Waited too long to start this. Little Man will be up soon. Breakfast. A changing. A little bit of PBS Kids and then we'll be off to the races. One of the best things about being married and having a child is that you never know what's going to happen next. Our days have routine, but the events within that routine vary greatly from day to day.
It rained last night. Finally. Everything's wet out there. Sun is not around. Sky is threatening more rain. If that's the case, it'll be an inside day. A book and movie and toys day. Maybe some Play-Doh. In any case, with Little Man's imagination taking shape, him wanting to play more on his own, and the weather cooperating, I might be able to get in more writing today. That would be good. It's very much needed.
Feeling cocky and strong lately. Not that I'm walking around causing trouble or anything like that. But inside I feel the old writerly confidence building. I'm ready to pound out some quality words. Write some stories that will make marks. Not only on clean sheets, between the covers, but also in the hearts and minds of those that read them.
I can say that I don't care about being successful all I want. I can say that I'm happy with the success that I currently have. But the reality is that I want to be the best. Better than anyone. Not because I want to be above anyone. Not because I want to be ranked. But because I want my words to stand out. I want for an agent, editor, publisher to say... “Hmmmm, this Stevens character. He can write. Maybe we should sign him up.”
But that's what all of us want. Some recognition. To be admired for our work. We don't wear it on our sleeves. At least we shouldn't anyway. And we must walk this earth as humble as we can without letting success muddy our roots.
I have plenty of time left. Don't need to have a best seller. Don't need to do book tours, TV shows, or readings. Guess I don't need anything.
It all boils down to want. And I want it because I know I can get it. If I keep at it. Working hard. Thinking. Putting together letters to make words the best way I know how. Without much fuss. Without all the fluff. By nailing down the meaning and serving it up without garnish, seasoning, or a side dish.
Yes, I'm hungry. Still hungry after all of these years.
Hungry for more.
I am home nearly every day. Being a Daddy. Keeping up the house and yard. Trying to be a fine husband. But always there's the writer. Old K.J. Stevens. Wanting to get to work. Turn the everyday into something more. Not only for myself and my family, but for all of us.
Because there aren't many of us left. Those who've not sold our souls. Or even worse, forgotten that each of us has one.
Tucked away deep. Coursing life through our veins with every step we take.
