Opening up

I was just out at lunch with my wife and friends and one of them asked me for the address of this blog. I noticeably blanched at the thought. It is one thing to write in this space, it is another thing to tell people about it. I of course promised to send her the link today. I don't really know what I was thinking. You see, this space was started for me. And while I have always considered myself a writer, I have only just recently started telling other people about my problem. Inevitably, I will have to prove it.

Writing is the one dream in my life that I have never tested. Everything else that I have done I have coasted through on work ethic and charm; both of them doled out equally. They have both served me well when dealing with other people. Here though, we have a different situation. Impressing oneself is the most difficult proposition of all. Smiling, joking, and showing up early everyday isn't going to work here.

This post then, puts the ultimate test into motion...whether or not I can satisfy myself. Nothing less than my life is on the line. I have been thinking of this day since I was 15 years old. Only one other time in my life have I told someone I would be a writer some day, and that was my brother Lou. I was 20 at the time, in love, and dreaming of writing a novel. I was brimming with confidence and wine and just put it out there for everyone else to see. I promptly haven't written anything for 11 years.

Should this new path end in failure, failure in writing that is, it will be a resounding success. I will have proved something to myself. That I am willing to put myself out there regardless of the consequences. That I am willing to trust myself. Most importantly, that for once I am willing to try something in which the outcome is not certain.

Here I am, back in the kitchen of my parents house 11 years ago and I'm telling you that I am going to write a novel. The only question is...why will this time be any different?