Blech. It's only September but I already have one of those colds that routinely kick my ass in the winter months. But I've moderated the doping enough to get this post off before I drop off into the sweet, sweet sleep of narcotics.
When I was a reporter, one of things I sucked worst at was enterprise journalism. These were the sorts of long-form, extended pieces they wanted us to write that won awards and made careers etc. I always had a bunch of good ideas, but for the most part they never got written because the day-to-day issues of covering the police beat always got in the way. I feel that way about blog posts too. I have several cool ideas for things I want to write about, but the day-to-day issues of life keep getting in the way. It doesn't help that I am created of the most procrastination-laced stock in human history.
For example, I have a post I really want to write about characters and how we choose the characters we read about and write about. But I can't because tomorrow (today) Is Spenser's second birthday and I'd rather write about that instead.
If you're talking about characters though, this little kid is one of the best. He's more of an anti-hero than your traditional type hero but he's been the greatest thing to happen in my life so far. I don't know that you can detect any major wholesale changes in my character as a result of his existence, but there has been a series of smaller changes that add up to a better, tired, me. Where I've noticed his presence most is in how I react to writing. I now fall every time for the kid in jeopardy tricks authors play with their readers. It's more fun now to read authors who have kids and see how it plays into their fiction. I'm also writing more stories about people who have kids. Granted, these stories have not always reflected a dreamy view of child rearing but I've been determined to present an authentic view of my life with kids and early on, that wasn't always a pleasant view.
At one point I debated writing a letter to Spenser instead of this post, but couldn't really find a way into it that wasn't cheesy or creepy so I'll just say that I love my little boy and would do anything for him. He embodies all of my hopes and dreams in a stinky little package that loves dinosaurs, SpongeBob, Elmo, cookies, Diet Pepsi, baseball, his light up Buzz Lightyear shoes, our dog, broccoli, Rick Astlye, and endangering himself and hates meat, littering, clothes, and sleeping.
Happy birthday buddy!