Welcome to my blog. And thanks for reading.
The day I turned 31 (August 25, 2011, to be exact), I did what most people do on their day of birth: I told myself, “This year is going to be different.” I’ve never been big on New Year’s resolutions, but I figured that I’d give the whole yearly optimism thing a try. As I sit here recollecting just one month from my thirty-second birthday, I can honestly say that 2011-2012 was different, and not necessarily in a “Wow! That was an epic year!” kind of way. It surely wasn’t the year I had in mind, and it almost makes me nervous what to wish for this year (a Keurig coffee machine, if you’re wondering).
While it wasn’t the year I had anticipated, I learned and grew. To borrow a cliché, what didn’t kill me made me stronger (or maybe that was the new exercise routine I started?). I was supposed to relocate to New York City, only my employer threw a wrench in those plans. I lost that job. I broke up with my live-in girlfriend. I went unemployed for months. I gave myself an enema. I moved back in with my parents. I found a job. I began online dating. I started using emoticons (because of the online dating). I had to upgrade to unlimited texting (because apparently dating today is done in 160 characters or less). And the list continues.
Through those experiences, I decided that I needed to start living — for me. And that meant tackling my bucket list. Perhaps the one thing on it that I can tackle — something that doesn’t require oodles of money and a life-changing approach — is writing a book. I’ve always thought about it, and the nugget of motivation that I needed happened when I spent an hour in Barnes & Noble on a hot, summer day in 2012.
After perusing the nonfiction section, I finally bought My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me by Hilary Winston (a funny read; I encourage you to buy it). I realized that many of today’s authors got their starts just like me. They have intimate stories to tell of their hardships, their experiences, their travels. Those accounts aren’t necessarily earth shaking or mind boggling; to be told, they just require some guts, a no-holds-barred approach, and a few hours a day. After a little writing on blogs or in journals, those manuscripts eventually become self-published and publishing-house masterpieces.
“What?! I can do that,” I said. So I decided to try.
You see, I’m a writer by day, a writer by night. Writing consumes me. Eight hours a day, it is my profession and my passion. I specialize in marketing communications (not necessarily creative writing, although creativity is certainly needed), so my articles been published countless times, only you wouldn’t know it because my copy is usually disguised under another person’s byline. My ads have been seen by plenty. My words have led to new business and a whirlwind of mentions on social sites. And when I’m not writing on a computer, my mind is aflutter with words, concepts, and ideas about how to make my writing stand out.
After 31 years, tackling my bucket list begins with writing a book. Whether my book ever gets published, this blog is my book in the making, my work in progress. And it is my personal, no-secrets account of what the hell happened between being a hopeful 31-year-old and a grabbing-at-straws 32-year-old.
P.S. Please share this blog with your friends, and help a starving artist.