Somewhere there is a husk of my old self just lying around. I can’t determine precisely when I shed it, but I hope it’s scaring the living crap out of someone. Maybe it’s haunting a nearby park or, better yet, a Walmart.
I’m hardly new and improved. But I’m taking steps to better who I am as a creative human being, a partner, and a father. I have always wanted to be a writer, but what extent was a mystery. A little scribble here, a short story there. Attempted novels which were basically barbecue fuel.
Community college was my hand-holder for more than twenty years. Some English, Sign Language, a little History. Astronomy, Math and Biology proved to be mind-numbing. I learned very well over those two decades the distinction between the Sciences and the Humanities. Literature & Writing are my true loves; the Sciences, though admirable, make me nauseous and wish I were single.
So, at 45 years old, I got myself into California State University San Marcos as a Literature & Writing undergrad. I might have had an aneurysm, or a lapse in judgement (both?). Thing is, it’s what I’ve always wanted for myself. So here I am, doing it.
I’m going to write about my experiences here because, well, Writing. Will the journey be enlightening? Okay. Will I change the world? Meh. Will I look back on this in ten years when I’m holding my Pulitzer in one hand, martini in the other, while laughing gleefully with Donna Tartt and Anne Lamott on either side of me, rolling their eyes? Baby steps, Sean, baby steps.