I’m taking the weekend off. Yes, I know that’s how weekends are supposed to work, but I’ve spent the last few editing my new book instead of lounging. Editing requires me to, in effect, read the book more than a dozen times looking for different glitches, such as unnecessary adverbs, missing commas, and excessive use of the word “that.” Reviewing my writing with the purpose of finding everything wrong with it is mind-numbing and demoralizing. I’m left in a confused mental state, unsure if my book is the very best it can be, thanks to my attention to detail, or the worst thing I’ve ever written, based on the number of errors I found. I can no longer be objective, so I’ve turned it over to the readers. That may be the best part of publishing: I don’t have to read it ever again.
Long Way From Home is a collection of two travel adventures. In 2013, eight members of my family traveled to Europe for a Grand Tour through Switzerland, France, and the United Kingdom. I was moved to tears and laughter over the course of the three weeks we were on the road, and I jut had to write it all down. The other story is about the opportunity I had to fly to, land on, and be catapulted off a US Navy aircraft carrier. In between, I got to spend twenty-four hours touring the ship, learning about Navy operations, and meeting some remarkable people. The book includes pictures from each of the trips, and I can only hope the photos will distract readers from any gratuitous adverbs or misplaced punctuation marks I may have missed.
I’ve been working on this book for one month shy of six years. Of course, that’s not exactly non-stop work. I have a full-time job, an addiction to television, and a propensity for sloth. Frankly, it’s amazing I got it done this quickly given the amount of content available on Netflix and Amazon Prime Video. This is my third book, and they’re not getting any easier to write, with all the available distractions on TV. Then again, they are coming faster. The first book took about thirty years to write, not counting the first few years of my life before I learned how to put words on a page. The second took almost ten years. At the rate I’m going, the next book should be done in two or three. I should probably get started on it, but, for now, I’m going to kick back and do a little grilling while I wait for the royalties to roll in. That was a joke. Let me assure you, I’m not getting rich from writing. While I wouldn’t be upset if I were to end up on the New York Times bestseller list or to sell the film rights—I’m looking at you, Matt Damon—that seems highly unlikely based on my sales from the first two books. I’m just hoping to earn enough to pay for another tattoo.
