Where the Stories Began

 Michael has always been a storyteller.

He is the fourth of five children, all born within six years. When he was three years old, bedtime meant stories. The Boxcar Children. Coloring books spread across the floor. The quiet ritual of imagination unfolding night after night.

When asked about his childhood, his mother would tell stories of waterskiing, horses, and wandering the woods of the Oregon Coast. Soon, Michael began telling stories of his own. Always beginning the same way. “When I was a kid…” Then launching into long, imaginative tales that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than memory.

One afternoon in a busy mall, his mother lost sight of him for a moment. When she found him, he was standing at a public pay phone, speaking seriously into the receiver, telling one of his “when I was a kid” stories to the dial tone as if someone on the other end was listening.

It was not performance. It was instinct.

As he grew, so did the scale of his imagination. A fascination with Ancient Egypt took root early, shaped by National Geographic articles, the story of King Tut, and the mythology woven through early science fiction. The questions lingered. The patterns deepened.

The worlds he builds now are larger. But the instinct remains the same.

To tell the story as if someone is listening.