So I Wrote A Book
Updated: Apr 11
So I wrote a book. I took a Cuban Cowboys’ song and wrote a book around it. I started thinking about doing something like this about two years ago and it seemed like a good idea at the time.
It was 2012, and life was simpler then. My kids were younger, I hadn’t started traveling all over the Middle East, and ISIS had yet to appropriate an acronym-name from what I had previously known to be a cheesy Saturday morning show from my youth for its Caliphate. Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Eric Garner and Tamir Rice were all still alive, and our cities’ police forces were only then quietly getting more and more militarized via U.S. Department of Homeland Security grants for military-grade armor and weaponry. Wall Street had only begun to be Occupied and an uprising against institutionalized racism hadn’t (finally) found its footing. Oh, and Taylor Swift hadn’t rebelled against Spotify. And, as of this week, there are two more dead cops and POTUS’ partial capitulation on Cuba. The Cuban 5 are free. The Jackson 5 remain forgotten.
I’m tempted to say, “same as it ever was” to that entire listing and call it a night so to speak. But I can’t. The outward condition of the world’s current state of affairs in some key ways mirrors what’s been going on for me internally. As many of you know, the past two years have been a bit more transformative than I expected. Physically (lost 30 lbs.), and in regards to my career as an educator, the changes have been great. And while I am happy to finally be diminishing distinctions between daily and artistic life, I realized something about myself this year that only writing was able to reveal. I discovered that I've been anything but an artist for most of my adult life. I also learned that I have known little, if anything, about love.
I'll explain precisely what I mean in the next post. For now, I just want you to know that:
I wrote and published a book
I'd love for you to read it. CLICK HERE to download it for free via iTunes or HERE to buy the Kindle Edition.
Writing is hard - more so because of what it reveals to me each time I attempt to do it.
I'll be writing more. Lots more.