Or Trevor A. A. Evans, as the book covers say...
Hey there, I'm Trevor... Adrian Alexander Evans
The story of my name, just like my life and how I became an author, takes more than a few paragraphs to explain. But before I get to that, let me give a brief overview.
I'm a writer who lives with my wife and daughter in Provo, Utah. Storytelling has always been a big part of my life. Some of my most vivid dreams as a child were my favorite stories, and I when I went to bed at night, I would try to relive them and tie them all together—since dreams sometimes don't really make sense.
I never thought to be a writer. I wanted to study law, which I prepared for as an undergraduate at Brigham Young University. But law school never felt right, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise. It crept in slowly, the realization that the best I could give the world was my stories. So here I am doing just that and loving it, along with the life I have been blessed with to support my family.
I'm here because my mom needed some water...seriously
It's true, kind of. My dad was stationed in Germany for the US Army and met my mother at a party. They liked each other, but lost contact. All seemed hopeless for future baby Trevor, but then something wonderful happened: my mom was thirsty.
She and her friends were out by a German lake looking for drinks after all the weekend vendors had closed down when they caught wind of some American soldiers nearby. GIs were known to always have plenty of refreshment, so they took a chance. My mom recognized one of the soldiers and asked about my dad, who was sick. She asked for my dad's info, got back in touch, and the rest is history.
They came back to America to get married after dancing so many late nights—Saturday Night Fever style. In 1982 and 1985, they intentionally had children. In 1988, they accidentally had a chubby little boy. If that weren't enough, they decided to name him Sasha. Yes, that's right. Not Frank or Bill or God willing David, but Sasha. My mother's German after all, so it made sense. At least it wasn't Voda Klappsaddle or Urmgard Hydapater. Or something that started with an A or an H. Still, Sasha...
My parents switched my name to Adrian a few months later, wanting to try something more masculine. Finally, an amended birth certificate later, the 1989 Salt Lake City baby chubby champion (only trophy to my name) finally had name, Trevor...Adrian...Alexander...Evans, or Trevor A. A. Evans.
Maybe that's why I wasn't much good at listening
I did my own thing growing up, which wasn't always the best. When I was four, I wandered a mile away from my family in a small Austrian village because I was bored and wanted to go back to the game room, and let me tell you, the rescue party was not thrilled to find me hours later. I talked a lot, was a pig when I ate, and could not sit still. I was a pain in the rear, simply the worst.
My imagination wandered everywhere it could. I treasured assignments for creative writing. Somehow, I still wanted to become a lawyer. I think I loved the idea of feeling important, and a lawyer felt like that. It made me forget that I should have been looking for something I loved doing.
All the while, I served a mission for my church, which I felt compelled to do after spending a month in Germany with my mother's family. It was there that I realized I truly believed the faith I had been taught as a youth and wanted to serve others. Two years in Canada was the result. It was hard putting life and family on hold like that, but it helped shape the person I am today. I'm grateful I went.
I needed my college days to figure things out
I was as determined as ever to get into law school when I started at BYU. I even studied philosophy to help me prepare, but the rigors of abstract theorizing left my mind restless. A life spent memorizing and applying laws and precedents just felt like the wrong path.
This realization didn't come all at once. It was a slow process that took nearly five years to reach its conclusion. For too long, I had envisioned exactly what my life was supposed to be. I'm not the type to change my plans on a whim. I needed time, and I was blessed to have that time filled with such wonderful adventures and friendships.
One childhood dream I had fulfilled in college was the friendships I gained. I had struggled making friends growing up. All the way until high school, the anxiety was so bad that I would regularly fake sick—almost to the point of failing school. I did have some friends, but I struggled to make deep relationships because I was afraid I would be rejected. One thing that made going on a mission so hard was that I was just starting to learn how to make and deepen friendships. When I got back, college presented another chance.
My roommates and I clicked from day one, as did things with those at my first college job—custodians until death! Person after person entered my life, even short-lived romances, and I felt like things couldn't get better. The future felt bright despite my heartless pursuit of law. I was convinced that I just had to endure that part. But I couldn't. All the while, a new love was resurfacing, that of storytelling. I finally started to embrace my passion again.
At long last, the journey finally began
School ended, and I knew I was going to be a lifelong writer no matter what else I had to do to make ends meet. I spent three months in Europe to get some ideas for stories. I had already completed the first draft of Crystal Palace, and was eager to work on even more. I didn't want to just write one thing and call it good. I wanted to create a life of writing. I wanted to be prolific, and that's what I set out to do.
Once my Europe dream was done, ideas fresh in my head, I started working to support my dream. Slowly, I built up Thirteen Crossroads Publishing. The name came from a poem I wrote in high school and my affinity for the number thirteen. I had a job to support my future in the meantime, but it was hard to think of anything but building something I had no idea of how to build. I wrote and published stories, but not a lot of people were listening. I wrote for the love of writing, but I needed time to learn and mature. But I had all the time in the world.
And then she came along...
And then Avery joined us...
Continuing the Adventure
Kristen, Avery, and I are lucky we found each other—I realize Avery doesn't have the cognitive capacity to recognize this and that she didn't really have a choice in the matter, but I wrote it anyway. Avery is, to quote Kristen, "our little angel baby". Days with the two of them get better and better. I am so grateful for this adventure we share.
What does this have to do with my writing? you might ask. Well, everything. One of my favorite quotes is from Confucious: "Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated." Few things in life are truly passions, and those are the things worth going all in on. Family is one for me. Another is the stories I write. There have been times where life got in the way, but now that I have figured out the last few years, it's time for me to dive back in and get going faster than ever.
When I'm not writing
You might find Kristen, Avery, and I on the road to Vegas where the in-laws live, or maybe on some crazy adventure somewhere in the world. I could be at a Real Salt Lake game, or watching the Jazz, Ducks, Braves, or 49ers play, or maybe I'm in the kitchen cooking something delicious—or at the very least trying to. Maybe I'm taking time for books, shows, movies, video games, or anything that gets my imagination going.