Story of My Life: Introducing the Series

For my birthday one year, years ago (I think it was my birthday), my wife—then girlfriend—gifted me with a book. Knowing I was writing at the time and ostensibly pursuing a career in the medium, she understandably figured a book would be a fitting, if not perfect, gift. Gifting a book can be hit or miss, unless it’s been specifically requested or the connection between the giftee and the gifter is such that the real thought put into the gift by the gifter is not focused on whether it should be purchased at all, but on which of the giftee’s interests should be exploited in service of the well-intentioned tradition of birthday gift-giving among friends. This book, however, wasn’t just any book. I had to write the book. The pages were empty, the only text a prompt at the top of each one, with sections for childhood and teenage years and adulthood. The gift was the space and structure to provide a narration for my life. For whatever reason out of a number of reasons, none all that compelling or interesting, the book remained unchanged, the pages fallow, from that day until now as I finally begin to fill in the fields between the binding. As I go through this book, in no particular order to start, I will share my responses here as well. So, here goes the Story of My Life…