Leo Cristea is an aspiring fantasy author, hailing from somewhere quite posh and green. He has terrible navigational sense, but tends to make up for his geographical failings with a very fast “problem-idea-solution” way of thinking. That, and his vast imagination.
Holding degrees in Creative Writing (a Bachelor degree, with honours, and a recently acquired Master of the Arts award), Leo hopes that this wasted time toiling away at university, pandering to tutors who dismissed genre fiction as “pointless, unrealistic work” will have at least taught him the basic lessons of craft and structure that will help his work grow. Or, he hopes to rely on the natural talent his junior school English teacher claimed he had. Either method is fine by him.
Having put his university years behind him—gladly!—Leo is currently working his proverbial behind off on getting his work “ready” and his first fantasy novel—written when he was fifteen and ignorant of the word ‘marketability’—is presently gathering cyber dust in a dark recess of his computer’s hard drive. Rumour has it that if the novel sees the light of day, somewhere in the world, something terrible will happen—probably involving a great evil and a prophecy, as these things go.
Whilst the novel was a horrid attempt at his chosen genre, Leo took from it all the lessons a teenage writer can, did his “university thing” and is now sitting on what he hopes to be “the book” that will make him proud. (Sort of like a first-born son.) Technically, books—with an “s”—since the novel he’s currently spilling his soul into is only the first of a trilogy.
Once the trilogy is done and dusted … well … there always have, and always will be stories in his head—most of them clamouring to be written. Loudly.
In the meantime, however, Leo toils away daily at his wee little brainchild, losing himself in a far-off world of his crafting. When he’s not sitting bleary-eyed at his desk, or staying up late finishing a fantasy book, he can usually be found engaging in general geekery (video games, anime and manga, and roleplay), or sitting in a coffee house with a worrying (to passersby) glint in his eye as a light bulb moment of inspiration flashes by.
The White War, the first novel in a trilogy that really needs a name (he has titles for the two following novels, just no encompassing title) has been rattling around in his head for longer than is good for his sanity, and for the sake of continued peace (in the Cristea household, at least), it’s probably about time he got the whole thing down.
