Prologue

We are known throughout history by many names. Some have called us muses, angels, even demons. But we are much, much more. Our existence defies logic and remains a mystery to even ourselves, but our purpose has always been clear. We –Oh shut it, you annoyingly rational freak!

Sorry, Nonfiction was telling me to hurry up. I can't help but fantasize things a little bit. Maybe I should restart though, make things a bit clearer.

My family and I have been around for ages. Though most of us aren't genetically related –there are a few exceptions –we live together. We're not exactly a normal family either. Some of us even hate each other.

We're all personifications of the fourteen main genres: nonfiction, fiction, historical, scientific, horror, suspense, mystery, young adult, romance, poetry, drama, sports, humor, and fantasy. We've been around for centuries, giving people inspiration to work. And of course, being genres means that we have certain stereotypes that we're bound to.

But it isn't our stereotypes that tie us together. It isn't our literary status or our abilities that come along with our genres. We stay together because we really, truly care about each other.

So that's who we are, but our story is much more than a simple description. Though where do stories really begin? Do they start at the beginning? If so, which beginning? Do they start at the incident in question, our lives, the beginning of time? To simplify our tale, I'll start at the beginning of the end. Let's –Seriously, shut up! I'm almost done!

Sorry, Nonfiction was yelling again. Where was I? Oh right, the beginning. Let's begin at the end of inspiration as humanity knew it.

What did you think? Was it a good way to introduce the situation? Do you like the story so far? Thanks for reading!

~C