It was J.K.Rowling who said, “Imagination is the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not; it is the foundation of all invention and innovation.”
Ever since I can remember I loved being creative; drawing anything I could think of, building all that I could imagine from lego bricks; devising the craziest Hot Wheels tracks and constructing countless huts indoors and out. This boundless imagination is the reason I chose to study Industrial Design Engineering at University.
Here, I learned a greater sense of depth and a broader vision to draw more accurately and more effectively. For the weddings of my older brother and younger sister, I put these skills to good use, gifting them both a framed chalk and pencil depiction of love. During my studies and beyond, I continued to dabble in design, creating logos and websites for individuals and start-up businesses. In Product Management, design became of secondary importance, helping to steer engineers in the direction you wished them to. But later, when I moved into general management, I lost the time and patience for any such practices. And yet, though dormant, my creative urge was growing and bursting to be unleashed.
Throughout my studies and beyond, I often received compliments on the clarity and read-worthiness of my reports, and at parties and friend-gatherings I would regulalrly be asked to tell another anecdote of my experiences in a wheelchair. After some insistence, I wrote a book, published in 2003, called, “Wil hij een snoepje..?”, which translates to ‘Would he like a sweet..?’: A collection of funny anecdotes of life in a wheelchair.
Frequently I was requested to translate to English, but rather than trying to convert one mother tongue to the other (which is more difficult than you’d think) I decided to write a more complete and more open autobiography. Half-way through, while on holiday in the French region of the Dordogne, I became impatient with progress and to avert my mind, decided to write some wicked fiction. One murder followed another and before long I started to string a story together. Creating something out of nothing felt absolutely liberating and totally thrilling; I had found my new form of expression!
The problem was that my fingers could not keep up with this renewed eruption of imagination. High on creativity, my mind struggled between emotion and rationale; right brain and left, alcohol and caffeine. Even now, I have ideas for two books a year for at least the next five, but given a full-time job, family life, basketball as a hobby and the need to market myself, each novel takes around three years to complete.
Yet I remain driven following the feedback I have received thus far. Without exception, friends, family, but also those further afield consider my mind to be a very wicked one indeed. And this I consider to be one of the greatest compliments I could receive, even if this does make FAAS KRAMER be like Mr Hyde…