Eric Payne aka E. Payne

is creating is creating Fiction

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About

WHAT?

I was six years old and in first grade when I first dreamt about being super. I was wide awake — it was a daydream that I was having in the middle of a lesson when I was in the first grade. By then I had been fully indoctrinated with Johnny Sokko and His Flying Robot, Space Giants (Goldar, Silvar and Gam - a family of robot rockets), Battle of the Planets (G-Force) and of course reruns of the 1967 Spider-Man who aimlessly shot his webbing into the sky and managed to swing away anyway. I read the daily comic strips and lived for the Sunday comics, even if the stories there advanced only a few frames at a time. My parents fed this habit, buying me full hardcover collections of classic Superman and Batman classic comics. I’ll even add Peanuts in the mix because out of Charlie Brown and the gang, his dog, Snoopy, was definitely superior in skill and imagination to rest, fighting bad guys and flying fighter planes to save the day. My mother introduced me to James Bond, by taking me to see Moonraker and then told me there was a James Bond named Sean Connery who was better than this wise-cracking guy the credits said was Roger Moore. I wasn’t too pleased with who I was as a kid and being “super” and “exceptionally exceptional” in my mind was the salve I needed to make up for what I perceived were my shortcomings.

Back to that daydream, I wasn’t all-powerful, but the ground trembled at my feet. I could move things with my mind and I was very, very strong. But I was six. I was fighting people for no reason. The villains were simply fighting me just because. Since these were incantations of my mind, the presence of the bad guys was simply to validate my existence as the superhero. But as I aged, matured, and evolved so did my story. By then Spider-Man, X-Men, Batman, Superman, Transformers, and the stars of Street Fighter were all household names. Been super was no longer something I desired by myself. Reality set in and so did my desire for nice clothes and shoes, the attention of girls, and “making it” in corporate America. Marvel had been doing it better and longer anyway. Who was I to try to enter a space where I had no place?
And now I’m in my forties. I’m divorced and I’m eking out the “Chapter Two” of my life. I have a grown son who loves superheroes as much as I do. I have a daughter who watches MCU movies with me only because she knows I like them and we are living in the middle of a global pandemic.

But the daydream I had at six years old never went away. And 2020 has me so fed up and motivated that I realize that nothing and no one is holding me back from sharing it with the world.


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