I have a job. I am paid to do a thing. To wrangle words. To make them sing. To shine their spotlight—focused and hard. And that's a thing.
But, I don't really look at it as a job. I see it more as a chance to enrich the research that SEEK so wonderfully does and make certain that the impact is elevated in the stories we tell.
I was born and raised on the west side of Cincinnati. Blue collar. Bruised. Bright shining. Yellow moon stare. Rough. Underdog. Red dirt tough. I believed that there was some calling on my life. That there was something I was supposed to do. Or be. I still believe that. The same as I believe that for every human being.
I used to sit for hours in honeysuckled woods staring at the sky and curious to know if I could taste a color. Sky blue. Sun yellow. Earth red. At some point, I fell in love with them—the primaries. Still, I would like to hear the sounds they each make.
I am supposed to name my favorite book. I wish the question was, “If trapped on a deserted island, what is the one book you would have with you?” I could answer that question easily. Basic Boatbuilding. Choosing a favorite book is hard. OK, I will pick one. T.H. White’s The Once and Future King. Well, maybe James Agee’s A Death in the Family. Or John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meaney. One of those three, definitely. I can choose. Definitely.
I've never been inspired—only provoked. It doesn't take much and it happens often.