I’ve missed out on three years of storytelling.
Three years of traveling the world with my wife, a few months of that with my son in tow, and I really didn’t write much about it. Even if it was only for myself, I should have been jotting some of it down.
The truth is I was mostly dormant the whole time. I managed to get one book published, and to write a couple of short stories.
But on the whole, I was focused on the experience.
I saw wonderful things and met amazing people. At different times (and sometimes all at once) I was stressed, broke, depressed, lost, angry, elated, and filled with unrivaled awe.
I hope to write some of those stories down before I forget them forever. That means the timeline of my blog posts won’t make any kind of real sense. For example, right now I’m in Munich, but I just posted about a hike on the Pacific Crest Trail in California. Tomorrow I may write about a village in the mountains of Vietnam. Or about my favorite movies. Or maybe I’ll chuck a writing tip out there and see if anyone picks it up.
It’s a fractured diary, I suppose. Or a schizophrenic chronicle, if bigger words are preferred.
Either way, it should be interesting.
Thanks for reading.