If my childhood had been blissful, if my father had been more interested in raising me than in reading the New York Times, and again, if I had been enough of something to hold his attention, then I might have never found my love for travel, for dreaming, and yes, for stories. And that, too, is part of my childhood story just as much as his neglect and disinterest.
I don't remember when I wasn't interested in storytelling... I think the general idea of writers, especially writers who start young, is that they are learners, and they don't have friends, and books are their friends. I had many friends and I was quite a social child, but I was always drawn to storytelling. Not just reading books but also listening to stories, those of my friends and families.