The very first post here, In The Beginning…, was posted on July 8th, 2013, a short time after Westercon 66. I talked about how much I love writing, and I gave something of a mission statement: Write every day, and if I’m not working on one of my stories, write something here.

That is a worthy, aspirational goal, which I immediately stumbled over and failed to achieve. I do not write every day. My time management is not that powerful. I think about my stories all the time, and there is some writing-like activity every day of my life, but I have not held with the intent of my mission statement, which is to create or edit words each day.

In the beginning, I didn’t know what I needed. I didn’t know what I was doing. To a certain degree, I still don’t know what I’m doing, but I know more than I did 10 years ago. The key is to find the balance and maintain it. Rather than focus on the word count, focus on the joy. I love writing. It keeps me happy and sane. If I’m experiencing joy and sanity, I’m probably writing enough. It doesn’t hurt to write more, but I don’t need to beat myself over the head if I’m not drafting all the time. Unless I’m under some kind of deadline, in which I need to write faster.

This has been my open journal to describe my journey as a writer. I had nothing published. Now, 10 years later, I have a novel completed, with the official release date just a few days away. I’m working with Water Dragon to get the pre-orders out, and last weekend, I had one of the best weekends of my life, getting to hold my book for the first time, and getting to sell my book to friends and strangers. My friend Mike Baltar, who is currently sitting across from me at this Shut Up and Write, read the book that weekend and told me it was a page turner. Other people I have given ARCs to have messaged me, telling me they’re enjoying it. As I sit here, a slightly damaged copy of the book is resting next to my laptop. I can look over at it from time to time and gather fresh encouragement from it, simply from it existing in the physical world.

These last 10 years haven’t been easy. There have been deaths. Melissa’s sister Patty, and her father, Don. Some people I loved as friends and family are no longer in my life, for various reasons. I’ve battled depression. Truth be told, I’m still battling it, though the last couple of weeks offered ammunition to help fight it.

There has also been joy and blessings. I am extremely fortunate. Privileged. Blessed, if you prefer that word.

In the last 10 years, I have taught High School kids programming in an after school program. I have played in several bands. I have completed 3 novels and dozens of short stories. I have excelled in my work at Trimark. I have survived Covid, President Trump, and some personal trauma that need not be displayed here. I have not let Imposter Syndrome hold me back.

In 1992, someone I cared very deeply about and respected immensely told me that I couldn’t call myself an author until I was published. In 2019, I successfully published a short story in an anthology. That little victory didn’t feel like enough, though. It felt like it didn’t count. In 2023, I have successfully published a novel. Again, it’s sitting right next to me, with the name my parents gave me on the top of the cover and on the spine. I really am an author, now.

Of course, whether you call yourself a writer, an author, a scribe, or a vocabunaut, it’s all the same. It doesn’t matter if people never read your work or if you make the New York Times Bestseller list. Call yourself by whatever name makes you the most happy, and just keep writing. Others might tell you what that one fellow told me in 1992, and if it gets you down, ignore them. If it motivates you to write harder, then let flow the gork.

In order to write, I had to make some sacrifices along the way. Those programming classes I was teaching? That was one of the first things to go. The bands? I had to drop out. During the years where I was most active musically, I didn’t finish any stories. Within 2 years of quitting the bands, I completed 2 novels and several short stories. I want to play music with people, but there is only so much time.

I like to think that if I had more time, I would write more. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? For me to write, I need time, energy, and either motivation or some degree of comfort. Covid hit in 2020 and I lost the energy and the motivation. I pushed through on a novelette for Michael Gallowglas, but it was one of the most painful writing experiences of my life. I had time during the pandemic, but there was a moment where I didn’t think I would write anymore.

I wrote 10 years ago that this was the beginning. Today is not an end. I’m not even sure it’s a middle. I’m still on my journey as a writer. I have achieved a life long goal, but that doesn’t mean the story ends here. I have more tales to spin, more books to publish, more words to put on the page, and more people to reach with my writing.

Let’s keep it going. Ten years down. Who knows how many more to go.