It’s 11:30pm and this Florida bookstore is filled with teenie-boppers (and a few middle-aged folks) waiting to cop the latest installment to the Harry Potter series. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about my boy Harry but I’m not exactly here on my own quest for a copy. I’m also not upset that my wife and I are here with friends because now that we’re living in a small town, we actually have the time to enjoy doing things like this. I should disclose that what you’re reading right now is not the book. This is the story about the book. My book, I mean.
While waiting for midnight to arrive, I figured it was as good a time as any to buy a book for myself. After all, everyone else here would be leaving with something to take home and get lost in for the next couple of weeks. Why not see if John Green has released something new for me to escape into?
And now it’s been 20 minutes of “In this adventurous novel, Jenny is spending the summer in Tuscany. Everything is as it should be until she meets a boy..”
With a book in my hand, ready to chuck it at the next kid to bump into me in their Gryffindor costume, something hit me. Not physically but mentally. I heard it, clear as day:
“Why don’t you just write the story that you’re looking for?”
Whatever voice it was that I heard was absolutely right. Why don’t I just write the book that I can’t seem to find in these shelves? What would it be about? A boy from Brooklyn! But not an autobiography, I’ve hardly lived. What if it was fiction and some of the stuff was kinda true? For instance, it could take place in NYC because, duh, it’s NYC. And who wouldn’t want to hear stories about a kid from Brooklyn? I could talk about the way things were before the hipster movement got aggressive in ’07. It could be about love and friendship but dope enough for my boys to want to read (I checked and they’re about it. They already can’t wait to read it).
So the refurbished, “gently used”, 2013 Macbook Air that my wife and I purchased off of Amazon arrives sometime between Thursday and Tuesday. It took quite a bit of convincing before she gave in to why I needed a machine solely for the writing of this book and how it could pay off in a great way if we made this $354.99 investment. I believe her exact words were:
“We can buy it but you have to give me a book. Pinky promise?”
So, I’m writing a book. And I’ve known for a while that I should and that I could but now I actually feel like I want to. And you shouldn’t begin a sentence with “and” or allow it to run-on but that’s how I prefer to tell my stories and so here goes nothing. Or everything. I want you to join me for this adventure.
I’ve found that every time I’ve witnessed a monumental thing, it’s always happened in an instant. Like, one moment there is nothing and then in the next moment, there is something. (That might be good for the book). Anyway, two nights ago, I didn’t really have anything as I fooled around in a Lakeland book store with my friends. But now I think I’m onto something. I really think you’re gonna like it.
There are some cool things that I’m planning to keep you updated on. There are some tabs in the Menu Section of this site that will take you on a small journey on getting to know who I am. Each day I’ll upload a new post
about this journey and you can find that on this site too. I really want to invite you to walk with me through this process. Cuz, idunno if you heard but I’m writing a book. In all seriousness, I’m excited about the cover design and the creation of the story. I can’t wait to develop the characters and weave my thoughts until they create interesting conflict. I want you to know the characters and love them like they’re yours. I want you to see the Brooklyn I’ve seen. Know the NYC that I know. I think I’ve got a pretty cool story to tell.
I’m calling it “Bro.” (Anyone know how to go about copyrighting this?)