The Story Behind the Storyteller

Ah… once again, the moment when I’m expected to speak about myself. That’s how it usually goes: if there is an author, there must be a biography.

But bare facts are dull to write, and — if we’re being honest — probably just as dull for you to read, my dear stranger.
And turning myself into some embellished literary hero would be just as strange.
There are no duels with rapiers in my past, no saving the world, no hidden billions, no dramatic twists crafted to entice a reader.
At least, not in the usual sense.

Still… I’ll try. And you may decide what to make of it.

Somewhere in the vastness of the Universe — out where the newborn light of the first stars still hasn’t reached — a galaxy took shape.
From the dust of ancient suns came worlds, and on one of them, circling quietly among billions of others, a planet was born.
No prophecy marked its sky. No divine signs split its horizon. No cosmic purpose waited for its people.

And on this wandering stone, one human appeared — perhaps unremarkable, one among billions. But he carried one trait that refused to let him go: a stubborn pull toward stories, an urge to watch how people live, and a need to search for meaning even in places where none should exist.

In time, that pull grew into the necessity to write — not for glory, not for applause, but for the attempt to understand human nature, which always holds more shadow than light, more mystery than explanation.

Out of those questions — out of curiosity, persistence, and the attempt to gather chaos into something like meaning — Sage R. G. Delirienne was born. Not a hero. Not a prophet. Not a legend. Simply an observer.

A voice that listens to the silence between words
and tries to tell a story in a way that might make even one person stop and think.

I do not hide my name for the sake of mystery. It’s just that Sage is its own entity — a separate voice. I create the stories; Sage is the one who tells them. We are not the same, and somewhere in the thin border between us, the pages you hold take shape.

If you’re holding one of my books, then we’ve already met —
somewhere between lines, between quiet and breath.

And if even one of these stories finds a place in you —
then all of this was worth it.

Believe me: in my books, I reveal far more of myself than I ever could in any traditional biography.