I’ve had a great life.
I met my life-partner (now husband) Mark when I was twenty-three, and was finally able to marry him in 2008. We lived in Hawaii for a year, started our own business, and work most days in our sweats, making the commute from bedroom to office in about ten seconds.
I am a lucky bastard.
When I started writing at the tender age of ten, I had no idea where this whole author thing would go. I also had no idea I was gay, though looking back, there were signs. I hated sports, loved stuffed animals and had no problem mixing Barbies in with my Star Wars action figures. :P
As I have often mentioned, my writing career, which I thought would take off in my mid twenties with my first novel submission, quickly crashed back to earth when all ten publishers rejected me. I often wonder how things would have gone if I had stuck with it back then - if I had picked myself up and kept going. I was at WorldCon last year and went to a panel with an author who started about the same time - and now she has legions of fans (and in a possibly related role, sits on panels at World Con).
Is it possible to be immensely thrilled for someone and insanely jealous of them too?
Now back to the lucky bastard part.
In 2013, I decided to get back into writing after my husband kicked me in my writer's ass. I was griping about having lost momentum once again, and he turned to me and deadpanned “The only thing stopping you from writing is you.”
Holy bat signal, Robin!
He was absolutely right, and he was also telling that he was okay with me spending the time I needed to write, and to finally get myself published.
Now here we are, six years on, and I have almost thirty published works to my credit, including six novels. “Ithani,” which came out today, caps my first trilogy, and my second one wraps in October.
I’m writing what I always wanted to - diverse, exciting sci fi and fantasy - and although I’m not making bank (yet), I have a bunch of loyal readers who love what I do.
Did I mention that Mark and I will celebrate our twenty seventh anniversary in April?
I’m breathing. I’m writing. And I’m living with the man of my dreams.
I really am a lucky bastard.