I poured myself some Honeycomb this morning and Rocky came out, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Hey bud,” I said.
His reply: “Hi dad. Why didn’t you become an astronaut?”
Surprised silence. “I don’t know.”
“Is it because you really just wanted to be a door salesman?”
I bounced back and forth at this point, between weeping in my cereal and laughing at the boy. Yes, doors were my dream son, and now that I’ve reached the pinnacle of my ambitions I am just coasting through life.
As a dad of three who struggles to get the mortgage payment in every month I have thought a lot lately about what I’m doing. I started down the path of being a novelist shortly after I married Anne, so it’s been about six or seven years. I don’t really remember when I submitted my first story for consideration, but I’d say that is the day the ball really got rolling.
I’d always hoped when the day came that I stood before Rocky’s class on career day I wouldn’t have to tell them I am a Door Opening Solution Specialist. Well, at this point I’m probably looking forward to Ginny’s future career day to avoid that eventuality. I’m in it for the long haul though and if it takes until mystery child #4’s career day to be able to say “I’m a novelist” then I guess that’s OK.
As far as I’m aware there isn’t a career day scheduled, so maybe I have time to compose the right presentation. Off the top of my head:
- Hi kids, I’m Mitch Inkley and I’m a damn good door salesman.
- Howdy kids, I’m Mitch Inkley and I can hook you up with the doors you need. Even if your door swings both ways I will help you. Hashtag equality.
- Hello children, I love hinges. The way two leaves swing apart on lubricated ball bearings, only to swing back together in a metallic embrace…
- Hey there folks, no matter how many doors I sell you the NSA is still watching.
- I hope you’re happy kiddos. I sit at a desk all day long and if that doesn’t seem like fun than consider the fact that you little twerps are going to have to pay for our countries deficit. You’re going to make Greece’s little crisis look like a walk in the [phrase removed to maintain PG rating] park. Enjoy paying for our generation’s college educations and the half-finished wall on the border.
Just spit-balling here. I’ll have to give it more thought I guess.
I am currently rewriting my last novel and ironing out an outline for the up and coming. I’ve slacked off on querying agents and need to get back on the horse. (BTW, the western cliché in the last line takes on a whole new meaning when auto correct changes horse to whores).
I recently heard of an author who had to send 200 query letters before striking gold. I guess I just need to plow ahead, before I’m forced to employ the descriptions above in my kid’s grade school.
This rant seems a bit self-indulgent when every other FB post is telling me that the world is sure to implode next month. Thanks Rocky, for making my morning deeper than I wanted it to be.