I am an artist, in that everything I love to do has never paid the bills. Haha! Music and writing have always been my biggest passions. Around the age of twelve, after hearing Def Leppard's Hysteria, I decided that I wanted to pursue a career in the music business. In 1995, at the age of twenty, I joined the Air Force, and that largely made the music dream impossible. After eight years, I was discharged (honorably), and decided to give the music thing a serious go.

That didn't happen. I hardly touched my equipment, I stopped writing songs, the dream was over. So to speak.

When I turned thirty, I decided it was time to hang it up. But even then had a difficult time giving up the dream. The fire was gone, but spending nearly twenty years pursuing a goal--and not achieving it--is a hard thing to give up. I was on the fence for nearly two years, wanting to go right, but looking left with sadness and indecisiveness. So I stood there, immobile. But then I read Stephen King's "On Writing," and this passage hit me like a Mike Tyson right hook circa 1991.

Talent renders the whole idea of rehearsal meaningless; when you find something at which you are talented, you do it (whatever it is) until your fingers bleed or your eyes are ready to fall out of your head. Even when no one is listening (or reading, or watching), every outing is a bravura performance, because you as the creator are happy. Perhaps even ecstatic.

And that was all I needed. So very simple. I have that on my wall now, right above my computer desk. I just cannot explain that moment and do it justice. A moment of clarity if there ever was one. Like I said, I'd been struggling for a few years at that point, just confused as to which way I wanted to go in life. I had too many--two!--options and couldn't choose. That passage turned all the pretty, tempting colors into stark black and white. And then the answer was clear. I sold all my music equipment and walked away.

And I'm happy.

Writing has been a constant throughout the years. I've always written; it's the only thing I've always done, no matter the circumstances. And like countless people out there, I've always intended to write a book. I wrote for music magazines and zines--album and concert reviews, editorials, etc.--for close to fifteen years, so the written words flow easily enough. But it wasn't until late last year, when I read "On Writing, that I dusted off the old dream of becoming a full-time writer. I pulled out my book of story ideas, and went to work. Those ideas were old and full of cheese. In two words: they sucked. Haha! So I started fresh.

And here I am. I have about twenty short stories finished and a handful of others in draft form. I still make mistakes, things that I once knew but have since forgotten, things that can be overlooked when writing album reviews and editorials for small zines, or when you don't really care. But I am smoothing out the rough edges as I go and in the next few months I'll start submitting stories for publication.

We'll see how it goes...