I have always been a writer, I just didn’t always allow for it.
From the first book of poems in fourth grade, to a flurry of articles generated throughout those semi-glorious middle school days, I have always been putting words on paper. Prior to that I discovered via some Irish genetics I loved to tell stories and really expand the boundaries of imagination merely to entertain anyone willing to listen.
My first audiences for some of those stories were my younger brothers and cousins but they were fairly kind as far as critics go. And, to their credit, they all caught on rather quick when I tried to pass off some of my tales as true. One summer, we discovered an empty grasshopper exoskeleton in the back yard and I was able to generate an entire saga about organized wars and troop movements among the insects, based on that find. A few too many details perhaps, but they figured me out by sunset. That and I couldn’t keep the grasshoppers I found in any notable formation.
Falling in love can deter some writing careers, and a young marriage needed real money, so my words would have to wait. Six years in the United States Marine Corps, and then two in the world of defense contracting offered a practical monetary solution. Then, my brilliant and beautiful wife embarked on her ambitious career as an engineer, which in turn, opened the door back up for this self proclaimed scribe.
Nearly eight amazing years of working in radio, writing news and sports copy, commercials led to a concurrent run as a sports editor in the great state of Wyoming. An absolute joy that involved more hours than were available in the week, and not much cash to show for it, but getting paid any amount of money to write offers a level of happiness not often found in life.
A move back to Colorado and a substantive downturn in both newspaper and radio jobs led me to a decade of retail life, owning a comic shop, and continuing my education along the way. Being surrounded by great stories and art and getting to discuss film and music with hundreds of customers and fans of the medium fit rather well in my meandering path as a wordsmith.
Now, just about one half century into existence, my calling was always clear, but now is the time to finish the stories, make up a bunch more and wait for someone to figure out my story is too weird to be true. Creative minds are easily distracted, and well, no one ever advised anyone to go off and dream of stories to tell.
Whatever else I do, published or otherwise, writing is life, and thus it truly begins.