So I gave in and decided to add my two cents to this thread.  Technically,
this thread isn't Spam, its a compilation of actual fanfics that just
happen to be based on the authors life. That's my justification for writing
this, and I'm sticking to it.

Adam Chris Leigh
Omicron@sprynet.com
--==Formerly known as "Tempest-"==--


	It used to begin with that flashing light in my eye at around 5:30 in the
morning.  Its my alarm clock's way of saying "You have to actually SET the
time."  Like I said, it USED to begin this way.  Until a few months ago
when I got a pair of 100 Watt speakers and I moved one of them between my
bed and the clock.  So now my alarm clock doesn't talk to me, so much the
better.

	These days I rely on my father to wake me up in the morning.  He has to be
at his desk at Panasonic, negotiating things for the American division of
Mashusta Industries, at about the same time I have to be at school. So we
work together at both end up on time... usually.

	The Urge starts about five to ten minutes after that point.  About halfway
through my morning shower I can feel my fiction calling me from my computer
on the other side of the house.  It sings it's enchanting song that I can
hear well over the sound of the water coming out of the shower head.

	I can see what I so desperately want to write.  I can SEE myself standing
along Tenchi and the gang, fighting off the powerful attacks of Katago.  I
can FEEL Pluto watching over me from her place in time.  I can almost smell
the horrible stench that Benton's body made when Sailor Mars was forced to
burn his body.

	Its unnerving and delightful at the same time.  Sometimes, I think I'm
going insane.

	At breakfast I tune in my television and once in a while I'm treated with
a commercial for Sailor Moon or Gargoyles.  I know then that David Xanatos
is just dying to get his hands on whatever process Sailor Moon and her gang
is using to prolong their life.

	It starts like that, you know.  I watch a show, read a book or manga, or
experience an event and I decide that it "has to be" incorporated into the
universe I've been making.  After that, it goes onto my list of Works In
Progress, gets a Title, a prelude, and then is pushed aside for about a
month and a half.

	Meanwhile, I've read my morning mail and put a few aside to never respond
to but mean to, and now I'm walking out the door and waiting for my ride. 
I stare at my car, a 12 year old Toyota Corolla, I'd drive it to school,
but I don't have anywhere to park it.  As I wait for my ride, I stare up at
the sky and wonder what would happen if one of USSD's Laser Satellites were
to fall in a suburban town.

	For the first few periods of the day, I return to my ancestral slumber and
my idea's disappear.  However, sometime during the day, my idea's spark up
again and peak when I arrive at work after school.  Programming computers
at a pharmacy can get really boring after the first month or so of it...
and I've been at it for 2 years!

	At work is where most of my idea's form into fics.  With four hours to
blow each day, I write notes. Not just little things, but pages and pages
of notes describing everything from the timeline to the characters to the
weather on the day of the fic.  One of these days I'll bind those notes
into something more structured, ahh well.

	Now I'm at home, my computer calls to me again and I rush to turn it on. 
I open up my copy of Microsoft Word '97 and now I have to choose from the
list of fics that I need to work on.  Today, its Full Circle because it's
the easiest to write and the quickest thing I can release. I open the file
and stare at the screen.

	Ten minutes later, I'm sick of staring at it and open my up Mail program
and look at the mounts of mail.

	Twenty Minutes later, I've read all the mail and have opened 'The Heroes
We Love' and 'Honor Bound'.  I've progressed no farther on either.

	Somewhere along the line I realize its 10 PM.  I decided that an influx of
sugar might help, so I drink about a liter of Iced Tea.

	Between the stomach-ache I have from drinking too fast, and the flood of
Idea's I just had, I can't decide if I should continue.  The computer
speaks to me again and I continue writing until its midnight. By that time
I've convinced myself that I must get sleep or risk sleeping during one of
my Important classes.

	Closing down my mail program and internet connection, I shut off my
monitor and lay down on my bed.  In the darkness, I wonder what Richard
Vedas feels each night as he lies down to sleep, or if he even sleeps at
all.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, my tragic counterpart who stars in
Full Circle warns me not to sleep, for his sister was killed in her sleep. 
I shake away the phantom images from my fictional counterpart and drift
into blissful slumber.

	At night, I don't dream.  Such a realization is scarier than any bit of
gruesome death I may include in my fiction.  I used to be able to, I used
to enjoy it.  I wonder what happened to my dreams, they left me in the
night and I think they haunt my day.  Perhaps my writing has replaced my
dreams, or perhaps there's something more.

	Every time I look around, at night, during the day, standing on the curb
in the morning, I am reminded of the quote by which I started my quest on. 
Or more precisely, my TREK into a world where I write what I feel, and
wonder what's next:

		It is the unknown that defines our existence.
		We are constantly searching, not just for
		answers to our questions, but for new questions.
		We are explorers, we explore our lives day by
		day.

					-Benjamin Sisko
					Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
					(From the Pilot Episode "The Emissary")