As many stories do, this short story started as a dream. I didn’t keep the date of the dream, but I had it in 2006, then wrote about it in my dream log. Here’s the first paragraph of that,
I don’t remember all the specifics, but I was going through a room that was like an Arabian palace–close to it. To my left there were two or three people talking–people I knew, but who did not know I was there. They were sitting on creamy silk with a floral design. I think they were talking to me. I think this was one of the many rooms. I was searching for something, yet leisurely, as if exploring. But what I was heading into was a collection of mirrors–a maze of mirrors that rotated at random, opening and closing into themselves except for the path where I was. There was no danger of being hurt by the large shining, glass-like mirrors. I was still aware of the people in the adjoining/open room to my left. I was following a crystal–a pendant at one point in my hand, the next moment it was in the corridor ahead. But either it would twist or I would, and the mirrors would rotate again–shifting, turning. Sometimes those outside could see me, sometimes the reflections reflected only inside/into themselves.
The dream went on and became a vampire story, which I won’t spoil. Yes, this was before Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight was hugely popular and before the massive vampire influx into pop culture. The generation growing up on Joss Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire had yet to start publishing.
But anyway, so here I had this vampire dream, set in a mirror maze in an Arabian palace, and other elements to the plot were very Jane Austen-like. So I set down, wrote out a script, tried my hand at some character designs, and then began producing a page per week. Here are the first three pages. Don’t worry, my art improves! As with the start of any project, the beginning is always the roughest. You still have no idea what you’re doing.