I've always been an escape artist. As a kid between Cape Town and Pretoria - with Table Mountain the closest thing to real magic I'd ever seen - I disappeared constantly: into books, into games, into the stories I built in my own head when the ones on the page or screen weren't quite enough yet. I'm still doing it. I've just gotten better at building the doors.
What pulls me in is never the map or the backdrop, however beautiful - it's the conversation. Two characters saying just enough, meaning more, circling something neither of them will say outright. I'd trade a hundred pages of lore for one exchange that tells me who someone really is. People have always told me I have a gift for atmosphere, and I think that's why: I'm not building a world so you can look at it. I'm building it so you can get lost in it, the way I always have.
I'm currently shaping my portfolio around interactive and game-adjacent writing, with an eye toward studios that treat narrative as a living system, not scenery. Larian is, unsurprisingly, at the very top of that list.