How the YonanBo Saga Was Born

Every story begins with a moment — not a plan, not a dream, not a carefully crafted outline. For me, the YonanBo Saga began the instant I saw him.

It happened on an ordinary day. I was cleaning, halflistening to a documentary, when a few misheard words made me stop. Completely. And in that stillness, he appeared — not as a character I invented, but as a presence. Clear. Unshakable. Already carrying a weight I didn’t yet understand.

I wrote his name down without knowing why. I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know where he came from. I didn’t know what he wanted from me.

I only knew that something had shifted.

That was the beginning.

I didn’t start with a world. I didn’t start with a plot. I started with him — and the visions he kept showing me.

I bought a composition notebook and began writing everything down. Scene after scene. Glimpses of a life. Glimpses of a place that would eventually become The Great City, long before I knew its name or its history. The story grew in fragments, in flashes, in moments that felt more like memories than imagination.

Only after I committed to writing did the deeper questions begin to surface.

What is this story really about? Why him? Why now? What is the purpose behind all of this?

Those questions shaped everything that followed. They guided the worldbuilding, the symbolism, the emotional threads, and the generational layers that would eventually define the saga. The Great City emerged as the central stage — the place where the reader first steps into this world, the place where everything begins.

I didn’t choose to write a multigenerational epic. The story chose me.

It began with a moment. It deepened with meaning. And it continues because Yonan Bo still has more to reveal.