The Four Ancient Intelligences Epi 01 - The Writer With Nobody
My name is Arin, and I was a writer, though not the kind whose name anyone knew. I had no big office, no famous publisher, no wall of awards, just a small rented room above an old tea shop, and most days I wasn't even sure I could call myself a real writer at all. I was an orphan. I never knew my parents, and I grew up drifting between hostels and borrowed homes until I was old enough to fend for myself. Eventually I started writing small pieces for a local newspaper, comic strips, mystery columns, the occasional little horror story and sometimes they even published them. My dream was simple, to become the best horror writer in the world. But lately there had been one problem standing in my way. I had stopped getting ideas. Every night I sat in front of my old computer and stared at a blank page, whispering, "Come on, Arin. Just one good idea." Nothing came. I deleted half-written stories, threw away notebooks, and spent hours online searching for haunted houses, abando...