About

I grew up in a weird time, and a weird place. A true 90’s kid, My family was two generations removed from the farm on one side and one generation removed from the methadone clinic on the other. My father named me Jesse James, and while I never robbed a train, The Outlaw’s tale of revenge and martial prowess clung to me, and impressed in me the difference in legal and moral. I was caught right in the middle of two very different mindsets.

So, I got to see a Hell of a lot of hard work, and a Hell of a lot of substance fueled shenanigans and creativity. It made for an odd mix of values, and a serious aversion to coffee.

Thankfully my parents, my mother especially, worked really hard to give me a better life and to try and let me be normal. It didn’t happen, but it happened enough that I got a lot of great chances. I learned that a man’s work speaks for him. To endure. To strive hard and lead by example. I even broke a few powerlifting records along the way. Spent a lot of time punching a bag with the best instructors we could find, pushed myself, and tested myself on the mat.

I also learned the value of an Escape, and the wonder of a Story. You couldn’t find me without a book. I learned that some people see and experience the world so differently, it’s almost not the same place.

Painting by Jacqueline Owens, my Grandmother (Nana). This is how she saw the world.

My Nana couldn’t always stay on the wagon, but she’d sure as shit drop me off and pick me up from the comic shop every Saturday for D&D. My Grandfather wasn’t a great example all the time, but that box full of Frank Herbert, J.R.R. Tolkien, Robin Hobb, and David Eddings gave me heroes he couldn’t emulate. Instead he gave me worlds full of them to be an example. While mom slaved away to support me, they fueled my creativity, and my father’s family supported my day to day life. They all sacrificed so I could grow physically, and mentally. I could be a fighter on the mat, and a Barbarian on the Tabletop.

So a Dream took hold, to make my own Story one day. My own Heroes. My own Legends.

But a man’s work doesn’t always speak for itself. I have to speak for it. Especially in this writing game. I have to give it to you, to show why it matters to you, to show you why you should read it. I’m having to learn every day to be better at that. Even scarier, I have to ask you to speak for it too.

Turns out, all that hard work needs a Voice, and a Vision. It needs color, and creativity to carry it’s commitment to the imagination of the world. It needs people like you, Gentle Reader.

It needs that little bit of madness my grandmother could show, any given song. It takes a community along with a commander to create a dream, and all the hard work of a Sheriff’s cattle calloused hands, or Mama Fain’s 12 hour shifts when my Dad was too sick to walk. That, like Conan, is a story for another day.

So if you are with me so far, I’m probably for you, and you are probably for me. Together we are going to build that Legend and fulfill a Dream. So take an Escape with me. I have tales for you. Some are already written, some are coming soon. Some of Sacrifice and Service. Some of the Lust for Revenge, some of the Sweetest Love or the Darkest Nights. All of them are meant to give you a world to step into, when you need heroes or to find your own voice between hard work and madness, too.

May We All Find What We Seek,

Jesse James Fain