My life was dictated through my professions
As it decided my home, my life, and was a good postal marking for it.
At the young age of 12
I was an apprentice.
Food was my payment.
I then fulfilled a dream of working as a steamboat pilot.
The best damn job ever
But all good things came to an end
And a war was starting.
A fight among men, among families and I fought the losing battle.
But before the end, my group disbanded
Which meant I was heading for the west, further from the fighting
And I became a gold miner, I wanted money like everyone else.
I also wanted respect for my family.
But with no money, I had to try again
Which meant another job
And this was when my life took off.
I became a reporter
Where I finally used my apprenticeship to good use.
I became well known,
A storyteller like no other.
Then I travelled, continuing to write.
Even though I loved my life as a steamboat captain,
It turns out writing was where my life was taking me.