Tag Archives: inspiration

Wednesday Morning Ramblings


Today, my youngest son turns six.  In some ways, those six years seem like a fraction of a second.  In others, they could be from a different lifetime.  Finn is an incredible child — scary bright, perceptive, strong as an ox, sweet, mischievous, and shy.  I call him my clone because he looks so much like me, especially when I was that age.  Sometimes, when I look at him, it’s like looking in the mirror 34 years ago.  He also acts a lot like me, stubborn, headstrong, and independent.  Whenever I allow myself to think about how he’ll be in 10 years, I honestly get a little scared because I’m certain he’ll be as curious about the world as I was.

Every father should have a son who looks at him the way Finn looks at me.  It’s pure, unconditional adoration, and it melts me every single time.  Collin loves me, but whenever he looks at me, there’s an element of hurt and anger in his eyes because of the scars left by the divorce.  Finn was too little to remember much from that time, so he doesn’t carry the same wounds. All he knows of me is the man who calls several nights a week, the guy who gets them a couple of times a year and showers them with attention, and the daddy who sings him to sleep every night he’s with me.  I know the day will come when he no longer looks at me like that and no longer wants me to sing; I’ve already gone through that with Collin.  Honestly, it will be a hard day, but for now, he enjoys being my youngest child and soaks up the attention.

Finn and I didn’t bond right away.  I was working two jobs and barely saw him for the first year of his life.  Back then, because Collin and I had bonded immediately, I felt tremendous guilt for not having that same connection with my baby boy.  Then, during one of first times they stayed with me just the three of us, it happened.  I had a porch swing and would rock him to sleep each night.  I felt the moment we bonded as clearly as I had with Collin.  We were on the swing, swaying back and forth, me singing about the tenth song to him as he fought sleep.  He buried his head into my chest and wrapped his arms around my neck and shoulder.  He pressed against me as hard as he could, and in that moment, we became father and son.

No amount of time is ever enough with my boys, and nothing will give us back what we’ve lost, but nothing will ever break the bonds we’ve formed, either.  Finn proves that to me every time he’s with me.  Despite having lived the majority of his life outside of my home and barely spending any time with me in person, he loves me deeply and knows I love him.  He’s an amazing child with unbelievable potential, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.  One day, he will accomplish great things.  I love you, my son.  Happy birthday.

Sunday Afternoon Ramblings


My good friend, Stephen Zimmer, tells me all the time I’m too sensitive and need to grow a thicker skin, but negative reviews always bother me.  My rational, analytical side understands that as a writer I can’t expect to please everyone.  Some of the greatest books ever written have received terrible reviews through the years.  People’s tastes range across an infinite spectrum of likes and dislikes.  Rationally, I recognize that worry over a negative review is wasted time and energy.

However, it bothers me on an emotional level.  Each book I’ve written is nearly as special to me as my sons.  I work extremely hard to develop my skills and craft my stories.  Eight years removed from writing book one, I do recognize some of the flaws, especially in the first three to four pages.  However, I still believe it’s a good, solid book that sets the table for the larger series.  There’s foreshadowing in book one (Hell, in chapter one) that I’m still drawing on in book four.  Yes, if I were writing book one today, it would probably be a better book because I’ve improved as an author, but honestly, I wouldn’t make many substantive changes because it’s a good book.

I’m not going to waste my time refuting negative reviews or defending book one point by point.  Enough readers have enjoyed it that I don’t feel like the book needs defending.  I also recognize that most of the recent negative reviews, like the most recent from Allison’s Book Bag, have not been personal, and I don’t take them as an attack on me.  Two of them did feel personal, but I won’t give either of those individuals the attention they crave by responding to their personal embitterment from whatever shortcomings plague their lives.  All I’ll say is after eight years, three published books, and a new one on the way, I’m still here and still expanding my audience.

While negative reviews do sting and do bother me, I won’t allow them dissuade me from following my path and my style.  I will try to learn from them and improve myself as a writer because I do that even with the positive ones.  I’ll also recognize that negative reviews are a sign of reaching more and more people.  The wider the net, the more likely the series will land in the hands of people who don’t enjoy my style.  That’s just part of it.  I’m going to keep polishing book four, keep learning as a novelist, and keep reaching out to more and more readers.  And when the next negative review comes along, I’ll swallow the bitter pill, grit my teeth, and remain professional about it.

As we used to say in sales after getting a solid no, “Next!”

Tuesday Morning Ramblings


This is my opinion and nothing more.  I don’t typically write advice to other writers or aspiring writers because it feels too pretentious on my part.  Also, the world is already full of authorities who spend the majority of their time and energy telling others how to write, but this particular topic is rather important to me, so here goes:

Writing at its essence is a solitary endeavor, one of the most intimately solitary activities a person can do.  If you need applause and cheers to motivate you to create, you should be a musician or a stage actor, not a writer.  Live performers have live audiences.  Writers spend the vast majority of their creative time alone staring at a computer screen or notepad, allowing ideas to flow through them onto their medium, with virtually no feedback from anyone until after the project is complete.  This solitude can lasts weeks, sometimes even months or years, before an author gets feedback on their project, and usually that first round of feedback is from an editor or first reader who points out most of your mistakes.  It can take literally years before your work reaches its intended audience, if it ever does.

If you need instant gratification, prose writing is not the creative endeavor for you.

That’s not meant to be harsh or put anyone off from attempting to write.  However, it’s a basic reality all serious writers must accept.  You will create alone in a vacuum with no promise of your work ever being read by the people you want to reach.  If that seems too daunting, do something else with your time and save yourself a lifetime of frustration.  Writing is not a glamorous profession.  It’s not hip or cool or sexy.  It’s damned hard work that requires a level of commitment and personal sacrifice that can crack the souls of even the most ambitious and talented who attempt it.

I’m a writer.  At the core of my soul, that’s who I am.  For twenty-two years, I’ve dedicated my life to learning my craft, honing my skills, practicing, failing, getting up, failing again, trying harder, failing again, absorbing criticism, learning, growing, failing even more, and scratching out a meager existence.  A smarter person would’ve given up years ago, but my Scots-Irish obstinate nature won’t allow me to quit.  I’m proud of each and every small victory of my career, but those are not what motivate me to write.  I do it because I must, because the story and the characters demand to be shared.

As I wrote book four this summer, I posted updates each night on Facebook and Twitter to let my friends and readers know how the book was coming.  I did this not because I needed their “likes” and words of encouragement but because, after the years of delays that plagued books two and three, I wanted to assure them that I was working as hard as I could to make certain book four was completed on time.  While their feedback was appreciated, it wasn’t needed for motivation.  The only sustainable motivation is that which comes from within.  External motivators are temporary bandages that can never bolster long-term success.

All that said, if you want to write and need writers’ groups or NaNoWriMo or any other social network to prop up your self-esteem to get you through the draft, then, by all means, use whatever helps you.  If you need to dream of instant riches and overnight arrival to keep you focused, then dream of those things.  You may be that one-in-a-million who gets lucky and has sudden success, but in my experience and after a lifetime of studying the careers of other writers, I know the odds say you will be disappointed.  As for me, I’ll write because I have to.  I’ll follow my personal process for self-discipline.  I’ll edit and spit and polish until I’m tired of looking at the words.  And then, I’ll do it one more time just for good measure.  After I’m happy with the manuscript, I’ll send my baby out into the world to be enjoyed, criticized, praised, ripped apart, lauded, and laughed at.  I will do all of this with no expectations of monetary reward or literary awards or delusions of immortality.  I’ll do it simply because it’s who I am.  I’ll do it because I’m a writer.