Sunday Confessions

Plus a personal announcement...

The morning fog hovering over the Tuscan hills - a powerful visual metaphor that aligns beautifully with my reflective message. ¦ Photo by Jack McNulty

I’ve never sat in a confessional and revealed my sins to a priest. Come to think of it, I’ve rarely confessed any personal weakness to anyone except my wife just after we met in 1996. I warned her I was not an angel; I had many skeletons buried in a past I preferred to forget about. That degree of truthfulness was a good idea. It felt decent to begin our relationship on a clean and honest foundation. It’s also reasonable to consider that an honest foundation is one reason we remain together today.

But as a child, I never understood why I should tell an unseen adult who probably smelled like frankincense and myrrh that I threw a dart into my brother’s leg in a fit of anger. How would that make me feel better? I already felt like shit, and I was fairly certain a morality judgment, or worse – a severe scolding – would make my life more unpleasant.

Looking back, I guess it would have been helpful if I confided in someone (preferably a responsible adult) whenever I did something wrong or unethical. I would have learned earlier the importance of confronting my faults and shortcomings by talking about them...instead of wishing them away, burying them, or worse – lying about them (mostly to myself).

Huh...I never anticipated these thoughts when the younger version of me contemplated how the older version of me would turn out. But then again, the younger version of me never dreamed I would move to Switzerland to pursue a career as a chef. No, the younger version of me always believed the older version of me would become a professional baseball player – preferably for the Giants. What else was there in life?

It turns out there’s quite a bit more to life, and that brings me closer to what I’m trying to confess.

My wife and I had a chat around the beginning of 2019. Both of us were feeling a lack of enthusiasm toward our company. We felt bored with our cooking and wine classes. Our catering events were fun, but man...all of that planning and post-event clean-up took a toll on our collective energy levels. It was time for a change.

We sold our business two months before the worldwide pandemic and moved on in a new direction. I wanted to pursue writing. Like cooking and baseball, I always enjoyed writing...and foolishly, I thought I was good at it.

Writing involves much more than...well...actual writing. The writer’s lifestyle is different than I considered...or expected. It’s difficult to sit for hours after years of spending 12-15 hours on my feet. It’s lonely. It requires a lot of patience and persistence. It usually feels like no one is paying attention. It’s the perfect breeding ground for self-doubt to thrive.

I’ve been busy the past few weeks trying to figure this shit out. I’ve scanned through motivational writing books. I’ve listened to podcasts. I’ve searched under many rocky piles of advice for clues. I thought about the positive messages from my favorite mentors. Finally, something stuck – a bit like the dart I threw into my brother’s leg – shock, followed by pain.

I was shocked to think about the wasted years I’ve spent trying to convince myself I was a writer instead of, well...actually committing myself to writing. Stephen King, in his excellent book On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, wrote these six bits of advice:

• “...most books about writing are filled with bullshit.”

• “...if you’re just starting out as a writer, you could do worse than strip your television’s electric plug-wire...”

• “I’d lie to myself, telling myself there was still time, it wasn’t too late, there were novelists who didn’t get started until they were fifty, hell, even sixty. Probably plenty of them.”

• “...the hours we spend talking about writing is time we don’t spend actually doing it.”

• “But if you don’t want to work your ass off, you have no business trying to write well—settle back into competency and be grateful you have even that much to fall back on.”

• “If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.”

I don’t know why Stephen King hit a home run in my mind, but suddenly, I felt stupid and exposed. Like an alcoholic recognizing what everyone else already knew, I became aware of my lazy nature – I have turned into a lazyholic...when it comes to writing, at least. I do whatever it takes to avoid the hard grunt work. I would rather clean my toilet than sit down and confront an empty page.

Recognizing this character fault has been painful. Like a frightened childhood version of me confessing sins in the darkness of a small booth - I feel exposed.

I stare at ageism and the unmistakable recognition that I am older than most novice writers.

I’m standing too close to my fear of rejection, and that repels me as much as a good whiff of Red Bull and nicotine on a crowded morning tram.

My ego, the evil one on my left shoulder, whispers lies into my soul to convince me I am better at this writing gig than results otherwise indicate.

Perhaps I’m being too hard on myself. I’ve successfully changed careers twice before. I’ve met the challenges associated with making a lifestyle change. I learned new languages later in life. I’m learning a new sport. And I’ve never approached any of these challenges with a lazy mindset; I’m happy doing the grunt work. Developing my writing career should not be any different.

The Next Step

Stephen King also said, “fear is at the root of most bad writing.”

With that in mind, I’ve decided to ditch my fears and become a writer...and for me, that means doing whatever is required to write my first book.

This will not be simple, but my approach will be to write one word, one sentence, one paragraph at a time. I don’t know if my book will ever be published, but that’s not my ultimate goal or reason for taking on this challenge. More than anything, I need to write this book because I feel I have something to contribute – something useful to say to whoever reads it.

I shall reveal more about this project in the next few days and weeks. For now, I can say the project will begin right here on my VeganWeekly space. This new section, which I shall call The First Bite, will be available to all paid subscribers beginning soon.

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