Micheal Joseph Murano

                      "Here's from me to you: an epic so vast that the only screen fit for it is your imagination."

                      "Here's from me to you: an epic so vast that the only screen fit for it is your imagination."


 

Thank you for dropping by. I am Michael Joseph, the author of the Age of the Seer, the doorway to the Epic of Ahiram.

"How does one write an epic?" you might ask. Excellent question. I don't know. Really. Perhaps there are writers out there who sat down on a beach one day and said to themselves, "Today, I'll write me an epic." 

This was certainly not my goal. I wanted to write a fast-paced, high-fantasy adventure to keep my kids on the edge of their seats. Well, when I started, I had a two-year-old and a three-year-old who were always sitting on the edge of their seats–and falling off, all the time. Still, I wanted to take them on an unforgettable voyage, and so, the epic began.

The inspiration for Ahiram came when I was fourteen years old. I went on a school field trip to Byblos, a city as ancient as time, where the sacrophagus of King Ahiram has lain quietly for thousands of years. On its sides, you could see the oldest alphabetic inscription known to mankind. After the tour, we walked on the shores of Byblos, and I began to wonder: how does one invent an alphabet? Do you sit down on the beach, fish for sand crabs, and sing "a,b,c,d,e,f,g..."? I mean, how do you actually invent an alphabet? 

This is when I saw Ahiram, as a boy, running on the sandy shores of Byblos; and running after him, I entered his world, and the story became a part of me as much as I became a part of it. 

I left Lebanon when I was sixteen, three years after war had broken out in my home country. My family fled to France and then later to Canada, where I completed my graduate studies. There I met my wife and eventually moved to San Diego, California. As our seven children grew up, they too became attached to Ahiram and his adventures, which made for anxiously awaited bedtime stories. Slowly, imperceptibly, the story became an epic of ten books which spanned fourteen years of writing.  

And now, I would like to share the wonders of this epic with you, who like me, might prefer the flying carpets of an improbable voyage to the panegyric of placid escalators in our mega-modern airports.

Welcome, dear reader, to the start of a great friendship.