Usually this question is best left to those just leaving their teens. You hope that when you’ve achieved over a half-century of birthdays, you can easily answer this question. Since you’ve clicked to get here, it’s a fair assumption you’re curious to read my answer.
Writing comes naturally to me, much more easily than fishing. While I enjoy the relaxation that accompanies throwing a line into a quiet lake, my efforts usually net me sticks, other folks’ lures and a sunburn. Conversely, I seem to entertain when creating clicks on a keyboard. At least that’s what I’ve been told.
As a smartass freshman at a small community college, I found myself editor of the campus newspaper. My teachers were excellent, and with luck and hard work I learned to write reasonably well. “Falling in love” ended my collegiate career, sans degree, and I left college to return another day. Professional life began as a fledgling reporter for a small chain of newspapers in south-central Arizona. Finding journalism a poorly compensated profession, I moved into the printing field where I remained a good 20 years in various capacities.
Over the years, I’ve been a reporter/editor/photojournalist, radio news director, web pressman’s assistant, typographer, print salesman, over-the-road truck driver, and a few others I refuse to admit.
When my company outsourced my wonderful job as a desktop technician after 11 years, once more I enrolled in a community college. This time, at 49 years of age, I was a dedicated student. My goal was to gain acceptance to the school of radiography, so I studied my way to a 3.79 GPA in the necessary pre-requisites. My application was not accepted, the government (in its infinite lack of wisdom) told me I could no longer attend school, and I had to find a job to feed these snarling teenaged boys. Now, I toil behind the wheel of a city bus. It’s not what I thought I’d be doing at this point in life, but it pays the bills. Plus, I get to drive some of the most interesting people around Portland!
About 17 years ago, I began writing the epic novel. About 10 years ago, I abruptly stopped writing, nearly 300 pages from its logical end. For years, my writing was sporadically sparse. Since FTDS was born a year ago, I’ve remembered how much I enjoy writing.
So there you have it. Nothing too personal, hopefully direct and brief enough to give you a glimpse into why I’m here. I truly hope you enjoy what I offer. Greedily, I yearn to hear from my readers. Please feel encouraged to leave comments, good or bad. You can beat me up, stroke my ego, or give me pointers.
In the meantime, I need to get some rest. Bus driving is a tough job, and I have to wake up at 3:30 a.m. most days in order to get my customers to work.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you come back. Repeatedly.