I tell stories.
I've always been drawn to the quiet spaces between words. Even as a child, when other rascals were racing around the playground, I could often be found in some forgotten corner, playing out new chapters of stories I loved. Then I'd rush home to write them down on our ancient yellow-text-on-black Olivetti computer. Those early tales were mostly inspired by Nintendo games (there's probably still a pile of Zelda fan fiction gathering digital dust somewhere), but they taught me something vital: stories are how introverts change the world.
Sharing words
The traditional path for writers never quite fit me. While I loved books, I wasn't the stereotypical bookworm. My favourite memories are of shared storytelling – my dad and I reading to each other or being captivated by audio books on the long drive down to Cornwall for our annual holiday (the revelation of the name "Slartibartfast" in Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is so, so much funnier when you hear it said out loud). That human element, that connection through performance, brought stories to life in a way that silent pages never quite managed for me.
For years, this created an apparent paradox that left me feeling adrift. Here I was, an introvert who preferred performing stories. Someone who found energy in solitude, yet believed stories came most alive when shared through voice and presence. It seemed to go against everything people assumed about quiet souls like me. I couldn't see my work just fitting into the neat rows of novels in Waterstones. I didn't just want to write stories, I wanted to tell them.
Like many introverts, I assumed this contradiction meant I was doing something wrong.
The power of quiet
But here's what I've learned about being quiet in a world that loves to talk: introversion isn't a weakness – it's a superpower. We introverts are natural observers, gathering information and processing it deeply before speaking. When we do share our thoughts, they tend to be worth listening to.
This thoughtful approach to creativity led me to question the traditional publishing model. Why should stories be confined to a single format? Why couldn't I tell tales in the way that felt most natural to me, and to the story?
Welcome to The Wayfinder
That's how The Wayfinder was born. It's more than just stories, and more than just advice on being an introvert – it's a celebration of our quiet strength, our thoughtful power. It's a story, an epic, that we're all a part of. It's a community of like-minded people who understand and respect each other's preferred ways of working. It's a place we can all reach our potential.
We're living in an age where independent voices can reach around the world, where thoughtful creativity can flourish without having to shout to be heard. Through The Wayfinder, I'm sharing not just stories, but everything I've learned about thriving as an introvert in a noisy world.
Stories can change minds, heal hearts, and shift entire civilisations. And sometimes, the most powerful lessons are learned in whispers.
Welcome to The Wayfinder. Let's change our world, thoughtfully.