I just got a box in the mail. Inside that box were three books…my book to be precise. I’ve seen the digital version. I mean, I’ve been holding the digital version in my “hands” for the past several years as I worked it out of my brain and into the computer. There’s something different about having that book in my hands though. It had a feeling of “real” about it.
It looks cool seeing the book up on Grandpa’s bookshelf too. He’s got a lot of books from a wide range of authors. Some of them are unknown to me, but the majority are from well known writers. Now, there’s my name mixed into the crowd. It’s like I’m rubbing elbows with the likes of John Grisham, Karen Kingsbury, Stephen King, Louis L’amor, oh and there’s Paul!
I always thought about writing. Well, not always, but since 4th grade when we did daily “Creative Writing” after recess I thought about how fun it would be to write a book. To be honest, I planned more on writing fiction than non-fiction, but now, non-fiction seems to have a greater appeal to me. Holding that book in my hand, feeling the weight of all of the pages, just brought it home even more. I love what I do. I love the fact that I have a wife that supports me sitting at Starbucks (when there isn’t a pandemic to contend with) writing all day instead of out there earning a more traditional buck. I love that my friends and family support my quirks and whims. And I love you, dear reader, for stopping in to read this and other posts. Thanks for keeping my dream alive!