A Fair Introduction

When I was a much younger man (32 is the new 74, last I heard), I found myself writing far too much and for no reason at all. Aimless writing is much akin to masturbation, but instead at the end you realize you’ll never get what you want with this and go to bed later than you had planned.

At some point in High School and shortly thereafter, I discovered the wonderful world of freelance editing. Namely, I found that my schoolmates would pay a few bucks to have somebody look over their work. This eventually became tantamount to doing their work for them.

By chance, if you are a child or a student in any fashion and happen to find yourself reading this, please do not do what I did. Also, do not buy the services of somebody who did what I did. As students, it is your job to learn as best you can and writing is one of the few opportunities you have to express yourself in a way you are not normally asked to. Honestly, when else does an adult or person in power ever ask for your opinion on something as important as a war or a novel based around a war, the presidency of some great man, the tyranny of somebody else, or something in between?

Now, with the obligatory “do not do what I did” warning out of the way . . .

I found that I loved writing and I loved being intentional with my writing. Words are absolutely beautiful and ought to be exploited for all of their worth. Truly, you’d do well to remember how powerful a few words can be and how incredibly ineffectually a cacophony of words often are. This passion drove me to keep writing, though I also had to eat, so my own writing fell by the wayside while I continued to edit.

Now, as an elderly man of thirty-two, with a child only sixteen years away from college (right around the corner if you ask me), I finally have time to do some actual writing.

In the last few years, I have put a great amount of effort into a novel. You can check it out here. The novel itself is finished, but I have yet to find an agent. In truth, I don’t know if I ever will. Friends of mine who have had success with publishing their own work like to remind me that doubt is the armor all authors wear until it rusts away and whiskey becomes a better option. I’m hoping to keep my armor on, though. Anyhow, I prefer scotch.

While I wait until I find an agent for the novel, I decided it would be an apt time to make this website and begin writing and, with some luck, publishing short stories. From time to time I’ll post some stuff in this blog, though the limited time I have is better spent producing work.