So I was never a really popular kid at school, so the only way to beat that and stay sane, I made up stories. Stories about me, about other people, stories that wouldn't even make sense. One day my mom walked into my room, threw a journal at me and said, "Write them down rather, because if I get one more call from the principle saying that you were telling your Biology teacher that you homework was stolen by a gang leader, I'm going to lose it!" And I don't know what bugged me more to start writing, the fact that the principle called or the fact that I had used "The-Gang-Leader-Stole-My-Homework" more than once...