The other day I was thinking to myself “When did I start writing? Was it before or after I developed my extreme fondness for reading?” I’m not really sure, but my perception tells me they manifested at about the same time. Of course as a child I read quite frequently and even with my friends we were always playing and telling stories to each other. Yet, that was not writing. The first time I remember writing a story was when I was “talking”, with a friend of mine, through notes we used to put in each other’s mailbox. They were not exactly letters, they were more like the 80’s version of WhatsApp messages, but in handwriting, some were a lot more extensive and there was no shortening or contraction of words, which - by the way - I find it to be one of the most vile and hideous manner of stabbing a language in its written form. Anyway, our storytelling game started with a dream, or a nightmare depending on the perspective. Though I think it wasn’t really a nightmare, it was on...