Born to Dream: How I Became the Family Aberration

Born to Dream: How I Became the Family Aberration - and Learned to Love It

Growing up, I was a walking, talking mystery to my family. Honestly, if my dad and I hadn’t been so close, I might’ve been written off as an alien life form left on the doorstep.

You see, my parents were the definition of hard-working, salt-of-the-earth people. Good people. Honest people. The kind of people who fixed things with duct tape and cooked dinner while doing three other things at once. My mom could stretch a dollar until it begged for mercy. My dad could fix a car engine with a shoelace and a pocketknife. And there I was: doodling in the margins of my notebook, daydreaming about far-off lands and writing dramatic poetry about the moon.

When it came time for me to "learn a trade," the recommendation was solid: secretarial work. It was practical. It made sense. It paid the bills. And it made me about as happy as a cat at a dog show.

I spent forty years (yes, four-zero, not a typo) working jobs that made me feel like a square peg hammered into a round hole. I showed up. I smiled. I typed. I filed. Inside? I was secretly composing novels, painting wild imaginary scenes in my head, and wondering if anyone else had noticed how incredibly boring everything felt. (Spoiler alert: they hadn't.)

It’s funny looking back now because the advice came from a place of love. Parents want you to survive. They want you to have roofs and shoes and insurance policies. They aren’t trying to crush your spirit — they're trying to make sure you don't have to live off instant noodles forever.

But what no one told me — what I had to learn the hard way — is that you can't duct tape your heart shut. You can try. Believe me, I tried. I built a whole career out of trying. But that little voice, that wild, inconvenient, dream-soaked voice inside you? It doesn't go away. It just gets louder. And crankier. Like an old man shouting at the clouds.

So if you're standing there right now, feeling like the oddball at the family reunion, wondering if you missed the memo about being "normal" — let me save you some time: YOU DID. And that's okay. You are meant for something different.

Love your family. Be proud of them. Hug them tight and thank them for their good advice. And then? Go chase your crazy dreams anyway. Because when you're older (and trust me, I’m on the VIP guest list for that club), it’s not the practical choices you treasure. It’s the ones where you stood up for the wild, reckless, passionate pieces of yourself.

Listen to the voice in your heart. It's the oldest, truest, most loyal friend you have.

And believe me — it tells way better stories.

Comments

DIY Audiobook. A bit of equipment, good advice and lots of patience

I want to create an Audiobook - should I? Ever since the release of book one in the "Cannabis Preacher" series of thrillers, that question has been on my mind. The "Cannabis Preacher" books were quite long. To produce an audiobook from each of the four, including voice actors and audio production with a turn key service, I was looking at around $15,000 per book. Financially, that was a non-starter for me at the time. That amount represented a LOT of books and audiobooks to sell to recover the investment, and I shelved my plan again. With the popularity of the "Magical Papillon" cozy mystery series, I found myself coming back to the growing popularity of audiobooks. I knew that audiobooks could reach a wider audience and catered to busy readers who prefer listening while multitasking. The idea of bringing my characters to life through narration excited me, as it offered a new dimension to my storytelling. The cozy mysteries were only 60-65,000...

Writers, Don’t Be a Slave to Word Count: Let the Story Speak for Itself

As writers, we’ve all asked ourselves that nagging question: “Is my book long enough? Too short? How long should it be?” It’s easy to get caught up in the numbers, obsessing over whether our work fits neatly into arbitrary word count guidelines. But here’s the truth: Word count should never dictate the quality of your story. The heart of storytelling lies in the narrative itself, not in how many pages it spans. The Pressure of Word Count From NaNoWriMo goals to publishing industry standards, writers face constant reminders about “acceptable” word counts. A novel must be 80,000-100,000 words. A novella shouldn’t exceed 40,000. Short stories have their own limits. These guidelines are helpful, but they can also be stifling. We begin to pad scenes unnecessarily or trim meaningful moments just to conform to these benchmarks. I’ve been there. I’ve wrestled with my manuscript, forcing it to stretch or condense to meet expectations. And you know what happened? The authenticity of the...

The Glamorous Life of a Writer (Or, Mostly Just Staring at a Screen)

There’s a persistent rumor floating around that writers live thrilling, adventure-filled lives. Perhaps it’s all the dramatic author portraits on book jackets—moody, windswept, staring off into the distance as if contemplating the fate of the world. Perhaps it’s the movies, where writers are always dashing off to Paris to write the next great novel in a charming café (suspiciously never interrupted by spotty Wi-Fi or overpriced croissants). I hate to break it to you, but real writing? Not quite so cinematic. In reality, my writing days mostly involve staring intensely at my screen, willing the words to appear through sheer force of will. Occasionally, I engage in deep philosophical debates with myself—such as whether my protagonist should turn left or right down a hallway (the fate of the fictional world depends on it). And let’s not forget the highly intellectual process of naming characters, which can take hours because somehow every single name I think of is either the name of ...

Thinkingdog Publishing

Search This Blog