Look, I generally don’t blog about my family, but I have to say a few things here.
First, my son. Bravest man I know, and that includes my brother, the police officer. My brother Jeff demonstrates bravery every day he puts on the uniform and goes on patrol. That’s a given. I don’t diminish that in any way. What I mean about my son, though, is that he gets up every day and battles against invisible forces. Forces in his own mind, telling him he’s not good enough. Forces in his heart–his huge, soft, generous heart–that give him the impulse to help everyone he meets but also denying him the confidence to take the steps he wants to take. So he fights off feelings of inadequacy and fear of failing every damn day and lives hour to hour having to battle. He lives with three people who seem to have achieved things he wants to, and those achievements appear to come so easily to us, and to everyone else he sees. He could rage at the universe for making his inner life so difficult, but he doesn’t. He just takes a deep breath and gets on with it. I’ve never met someone who has to be brave every second of every day and who refuses to give up.
Second, my wife. I’ve written about her more times than I can count, and she forms the core of most of my strong characters in my fiction. We talk about strength and too often we equate it with unfeeling toughness, or being impervious to harm. That’s not strength–as my son demonstrates, strength is often nothing more, and nothing less, than getting up off the mat and fighting another round. My wife has had things happen to her that shouldn’t happen to anyone, and has come out on the other side a strong, generous, and loving person. Plus she’s the most genuine person I know. Heart on her sleeve, emotions raw and obvious, completely open and honest in all she does.
Last, my daughter. I don’t even know how to describe this person. She’s multifaceted to the point of defying any kind of category or definition. Hard worker, brilliant, generous, joyful, socially unafraid (for God’s sake, she will wear a full body shark costume to work for no reason) creative, imaginative, and loving.
The reason I’m thinking of her is that today, just before I went off for my daily writing, she said she wanted to do NaNoWriMo with me. I’ve done it for many years consecutively, and I know she’s been writing too, but now she wants to do it with me–working on separate projects, of course, but still.
Writing is a rather solitary thing–as close as I am to my wife, we generally don’t talk about my writing, either as I’m doing it, or once I’m done. She will read (or, more accurately, listen) to my stuff sometimes, but again, being honest, she tells me she’s really not into it. So I find myself writing and, well, talking to you, Dear Reader, instead.
Now my daughter wants to see for herself how this works. I’m very excited and honored that she wants to do this with me. About a week to go–I’ll fill you in!
Be seeing you!
First, my son. Bravest man I know, and that includes my brother, the police officer. My brother Jeff demonstrates bravery every day he puts on the uniform and goes on patrol. That’s a given. I don’t diminish that in any way. What I mean about my son, though, is that he gets up every day and battles against invisible forces. Forces in his own mind, telling him he’s not good enough. Forces in his heart–his huge, soft, generous heart–that give him the impulse to help everyone he meets but also denying him the confidence to take the steps he wants to take. So he fights off feelings of inadequacy and fear of failing every damn day and lives hour to hour having to battle. He lives with three people who seem to have achieved things he wants to, and those achievements appear to come so easily to us, and to everyone else he sees. He could rage at the universe for making his inner life so difficult, but he doesn’t. He just takes a deep breath and gets on with it. I’ve never met someone who has to be brave every second of every day and who refuses to give up.
Second, my wife. I’ve written about her more times than I can count, and she forms the core of most of my strong characters in my fiction. We talk about strength and too often we equate it with unfeeling toughness, or being impervious to harm. That’s not strength–as my son demonstrates, strength is often nothing more, and nothing less, than getting up off the mat and fighting another round. My wife has had things happen to her that shouldn’t happen to anyone, and has come out on the other side a strong, generous, and loving person. Plus she’s the most genuine person I know. Heart on her sleeve, emotions raw and obvious, completely open and honest in all she does.
Last, my daughter. I don’t even know how to describe this person. She’s multifaceted to the point of defying any kind of category or definition. Hard worker, brilliant, generous, joyful, socially unafraid (for God’s sake, she will wear a full body shark costume to work for no reason) creative, imaginative, and loving.
The reason I’m thinking of her is that today, just before I went off for my daily writing, she said she wanted to do NaNoWriMo with me. I’ve done it for many years consecutively, and I know she’s been writing too, but now she wants to do it with me–working on separate projects, of course, but still.
Writing is a rather solitary thing–as close as I am to my wife, we generally don’t talk about my writing, either as I’m doing it, or once I’m done. She will read (or, more accurately, listen) to my stuff sometimes, but again, being honest, she tells me she’s really not into it. So I find myself writing and, well, talking to you, Dear Reader, instead.
Now my daughter wants to see for herself how this works. I’m very excited and honored that she wants to do this with me. About a week to go–I’ll fill you in!
Be seeing you!
RSS Feed