Author's Note: This story idea has niggled at my mind for a long time and won't leave me alone, so I ended up giving in and writing it. Enjoy, and by all means, let me know what you think of it! Accompanying pictures can be found on Tumblr (I'm lilyvandersteen there, too).

Chapter One: A Dream Come True

"This wandering storyteller is standing on an empty crate, which makes him tower above the spectators, and he's telling a story … oh, how he's telling it! His gestures wide, his voice loud, his face earnest and his eyes rolling. Around him stand a few men, many women and children and even two priests, and they listen with bated breath." (Thea Beckman, Geef me de ruimte!, my own translation, as I am not sure the book exists in an English version)

It felt weird being here right now, Blaine thought.

He'd always come here, every year, and several times, too. He'd come alone, to stock up on the newest comic books and get one of them signed by the author, hopefully with a quick sketch of the main character next to the autograph. He'd come with his class, to stock up on picture books and story books for the school library and to let the children soak up the atmosphere and fall in love with the written word just as surely and irrevocably as he had. And he'd occasionally come with a friend.

Yet he'd never witnessed the book fair being set up. He shouldn't have come this early, he knew, but he'd been so excited he couldn't possibly stay away a moment longer. Because this year, for the first time ever, he'd be here as an author.

K&B

Even before he could read, he'd always been drawn towards books. He loved the pictures, and when his mother or Coop would read to him, he floated away to the world they described effortlessly, dreaming about it afterwards, and recreating the stories with his Playmobil or Lego figures.

He was a shy child, quite withdrawn, and preferred to spend recess looking on and daydreaming rather than participating in the games the others played. Though he was teased about it with increasing frequency as he grew older, he always remained a starry-eyed dreamer. Yet when he was roused from his abstraction, he proved good at ball games and he could hold up in a fight, thanks to his older brother Cooper, who saw to his "proper training", as Coop called it.

When he was eight, a boy called Wes asked him to join his soccer team because they lacked a member to be able to play matches. He struck up a friendship with his teammates Wes, Jeff, Nick and Thad, and through them, he discovered another passion of his: music.

One day, they were at Thad's during the summer, splashing around in a big inflatable swimming pool in the garden, when they heard music floating out of the house.

"There we go again," sighed Thad. "I swear, every time my big brother has a girl over, he starts playing that guitar of his to serenade her as if he were some kind of rock star. And don't get me wrong, he has an okay singing voice, but the only song he's ever mastered is House of the Rising Sun, so it's the same song over and over again. I'm so fed up with it!"

"The guitar sounds nice, though", said Blaine. "I'd like one, too."

So the very next Christmas, he asked Santa for a guitar, and got it, too. Once he started taking music lessons, his mother told him she'd gladly share the family's baby grand with him, on condition he played for her once in a while.

In his teenage years, he started writing songs as well, both the music and the lyrics flowing out of him effortlessly whenever he felt something he couldn't express in any other way.

And then he started babysitting so as to add to his pocket money, and found another passion of his flaring up again: stories. Only this time, he was the storyteller. He found out quickly that when the children he looked after were bored, naughty or fretful, all it took was the four magic words "Once upon a time …" to captivate and enthral them.

At first, he would tell them his favourite fairy tales and adventure stories, but after a while he started making it up as he went, adding voices, shadow pictures and acting it out.

He loved being around children, and seemed to intuitively know just how to keep them happy and active, so it came as a surprise to no-one that Blaine wanted to become an elementary school teacher.

After his studies, he took to the job as a duck to water. To his class of eight-year-olds, he was a superhero, a wizard, a father figure and a superstar all rolled into one, and they looked up to him no end. Mr A made going to school quite an adventure. Every week, they would come up with a theme and everything they learned that week centred on it. So one week, they could learn about the sea - what animals and plants live in it, what makes the water salty (and did you know that salt simply dissolves into water? Let's try that out, shall we?), why do the waves move back and forth, etc. etc. Then, the next week could be all about supermarkets - marketing, packaging, selling and buying, calculating prices.

There was one constant factor, though. Friday afternoon was story time, and Blaine's young charges absolutely loved story time! So naturally, when the subject of a parents' day came up in class, they begged Mr A to schedule it on a Friday - "cause I want my daddy to hear you tell stories so he can learn how to do that at bedtime, Mr A!"

The parents' day came and was a huge success. The parents were impressed by Blaine's singing and guitar playing and of course by his storytelling.

One father in particular, Mr Thurnstone, went up to him and said: "I work for a publishing company specialising in children's books. If you ever consider writing down those wonderful stories of yours, please get back to me, we would love to publish them. This is exactly what we are looking for!" He handed Blaine his business card. When Blaine accepted it, a little stunned, the man gave him a pat on the back and repeated: "Think about it, will you?"

K & B

That was two years ago, and things had progressed so fast since then. Once he'd wrapped his head around the fact that someone liked his stories enough to want to publish them, it had taken him a few months to write out one of his favourite stories and illustrate it with watercolour sketches. He contacted Mr Thurnstone, who set up a meeting with his superiors. They were impressed with Blaine's writing and illustrations, and assured him they would love to work with him and publish his books.

In two years, he'd written four books, and each new one sold better than the last. Small wonder then that the publishing company asked him to tour around to promote his latest publication and sign autographs.

Today was extra special for Blaine, because this book fair was in his home town: Westerville, Ohio.