Life’s been tap dancing on my toes for a while now. But each day this year has been better than the one before, and it’s possible that right now at this moment, I’ve never been happier.

I’m not exactly sorry I’ve been away, as I’ve been tending opportunity, and that is after all why I started a life online. But I did miss you and do thank you for the emails. It’s always nice to know when you’re being thought of.

Last week at dinner my mom said, “You know your last post is the video wishing Cindy a happy birthday, right?”

And though the month had felt like a week, the sun’s rotation rarely lies. It was odd to realize I’d unplugged from something I’d connected with daily for nearly two years. Yet even the most passionate lovers can sometimes drift apart.

I plan on posting as consistently as possible, though I’m not quite sure what that means just yet. Minutes are Evian in the Mojave right now, but I’ll do more to plan my sips a bit better.

So anyway, we’ve moved. Loaded the last of the boxes today. It is an immeasurable relief to have shed the dead skin of a previous life.

We bought the house five years back after falling for it so hard we would’ve gladly added it to our marriage certificate. This was right after I talked Cindy into leaving her job as a fourth grade teacher.

“Forget about your benefits, baby,” I gave her that grin that makes it hard for her to argue. “I’ll leave the flower shop, too. We can open a preschool together and stay with the children until they’re both in school.”

We were stretched near see-through at the time. Mia was three and Max the size of an oversized honeydew. Time was racing and slapping us on the back of the head as it whizzed on by. We both knew the first five years of our children’s life would vanish and leave us wondering where they went.

And they have.

We weren’t willing to let time win without a fight. So we bought the house, opened the preschool and stayed with Max and Mia each and every day.

We planned to expand our school, but soon found that a lack of parking meant the city would never allow us to expand our enrollment. The preschool was designed to provide us time with our children, but only delivered enough income to keep our heads above water.

It was clear we would need to move on.

Around this time I was discovering the writer inside me. That, sparked with my native entrepreneurial spirit, had us quickly closing a business with narrow walls and a ceiling low enough to crush the curls in our hair, in an eager exchange for the limitless potential of an online living.

The 18 months that followed were in many ways amazing. But they were also hard. Very hard. We jumped without a net, and though we landed a lot softer than we had any reasonable right to expect, it was still more like being thrown through glass than either of us anticipated.

We bought the house at the height of the market, the neighborhood transitional, but promising. Our realtor and close trusted friend urged us not to buy, suggesting we take our money and move to one of the city’s better neighborhoods. But a symphony of hammers and saws were singing in the air and you couldn’t walk a block without kicking a nail from all the new construction.

Rosy optimists that we are, we sold the pair of condos we owned outright, trading them for a downpayment on our new ghetto mansion.

It was an old Victorian, carriage house included. We lived on the top floor and ran the preschool from the bottom. A year into our new business, the housing market tanked and the neighborhood decided to race it to the bottom. Two and a half years later, at the soggy floor of the economy, Cindy believed in me enough to sever our only source of steady income.

I said I would Sink or Swim and meant it. Doggy paddling was more exhausting that I imagined, but then again so is most every other thing in this world that I’m truly proud of.

We lost the house.

Losing the house was hard, but it is also the best thing that could have possibly happened. It would have been a fool’s decision to continue paying for that house, we were so upside down, parts of our head were peeking up from somewhere in Peking.

And though I believed in the neighborhood, I was wrong. In the last month there were two murders within three blocks, both in broad daylight and on the street. The corner liquor store where we buy our emergency milk had a shootout just last weekend.

Losing the house was painful, but mostly because of ego. I’m glad it happened before the stubborn mule inside me stuck it out simply because I could afford to. We held on about six months longer than we should have as it was, mortgages hitting credit cards; six, seven, eight months in a row until finally I stared into the steely eyes of truth and knew it was better to swallow my pride than choke on it, and throwing good money after bad was about the most dangerous thing I could do to the people depending on me most.

The same trusted friend who told us not to buy, also happens to manage a place just steps from the sand, so we knew where we would be moving before the house was vacant.

We now live on a narrow peninsula; a thin strip of cottages with Alamitos Bay on one side and the scent of the Pacific on the other. The neighborhood is wonderfully quiet and every night seems to mute itself in anticipation of the rolling waves.

My family is safe and we are happy.

Making a living online is scary, but I’m really glad I took the plunge and lived the adventure. I’m fortunate to have a wife with unwavering faith in me, who teaches my children to have the same.

The worst is over and an amazing ride is just beginning. Dreams are expensive, and this last one we bought on credit. I’ve never been one to abandon obligation, and will pay every penny borrowed to make our dreams come true.

We lost the house, but gained a limitless future and the knowledge that we can do anything we set our minds to.

Though I don’t ever plan to directly monetize this site, it still has a job to do. If you like what you’ve read, please pass it forward through Facebook, Twitter, or maybe even email to a friend. Thanks!

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Yippe Skippee – There’s a shiny new Writer Dad!

I spent December scribbling ideas, tossing them away, then scribbling some more; desperately seeking a means to pull the awesome from Writer Dad I knew was waiting inside. I ought to be able to publish nearly every day without being boring, but it was a feat I had not managed in a while.

The answer was obvious: I needed to light my own fire. If I wasn’t passionate about what I was publishing, how could I expect an audience to be fully engaged?

Deciding on the precise content and future direction for this site was critical. I’ve learned a significant amount about developing content over the last year and felt that applying that knowledge to my first online home was long overdue. This development process is something Dave and I have gone through for every site in our syndicate as we prepared to head into the new year. Yet comparatively, those other sites were cake. I understand their needs on a fundamental level. Those domains exist for a purpose, created to carry me and my partners down a very particular path.

Writer Dad was born because I had nothing else.

I should understand it the most. But honestly, there are times I understand it the least.

I’ve dragged this domain all over the map. Veered direction, run against the wind and attempted to take it places it never should have gone, even occasionally sparring with its most natural direction. Thank you so much for being this patient with me. It is difficult sometimes. With only one to two percent of the audience providing feedback at any given time, it can be hard to know what will satisfy both the audience and myself in reasonably equal measure.

The primary difficulty I’ve had with Writer Dad is that I’ve never wanted to fit into (or write toward) a niche. Yet I have always wanted to see this site grow. By trying to serve two masters, most times I’ve pleased neither.

To correct this, I’m introducing features. I’ll start with just four, but more will be added throughout the year. Think of Writer Dad as the channel and features as the shows. You can tune in to your favorites, and hopefully share them with your friends.

If you turn your attention to the beautiful new sidebar on the right, you can see the features section and the four we are starting with: UPDATE: Sidebar not finished yet (oops!)

• Syllable Soup
• DAD!
• Life’s Better With the Right Words
• Children Write the Future

I’ll be giving each feature a short introduction throughout the next couple of weeks, with an entry to follow the next day. I am in love with this direction, and though it has taken an eon and a half to get here, I’m glad we are on this road and am eager to get going.

I’d like to thank David Wright for the awesome facelift. In the last month he has refreshed five of our sites and built two from scratch, in addition to all the client work he’s managed. The dude is a juggernaut of effort. Without him, many of my budding dreams would merely be idle domains.

Thank you, David.

Don’t be shy! I’d love to hear what you think in the comments.

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“Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man.”
~Benjamin Franklin

Happy New Year!

I hope your holidays were awesome. Our winter break was wonderful, with Christmas endearing and New Year’s exciting.

Santa delivered on his promises to both Mia and Max. And even though we spent days hopping house to house, we also managed to spend some much needed time relaxing with Cindy’s brother, who flew in from Houston and kept us company for two weeks.

New Year’s was wonderful. A dozen years back, Cindy and I started the ritual of ringing in New Years alone, making our resolutions over a pair of champagne flutes while dreaming out loud about the 12 months to come. This time we broke an old tradition in favor of a new one. The four of us spent the final day of last year and the first of this one with our good friends, the Martins.

With our children asleep at the back of the house, the four of us grownups watched the ball drop together, dreaming out loud about what promises to be the best year of our lives thus far.

I could feel the shift in my shoulders like cool air on my face.

I know a new date is arbitrary, but I’ve been waiting for the page to flip on this particular calendar for a while. Sure, December falling into January shouldn’t be different from any other month getting swallowed by the next. But it is, at least for me.

My brain seems wired to catalogue things year by year and I see a new one as an opportunity to put one album on the shelf and unwrap a new one, packed with pure white pages.

I will remember 2009 as difficult, brimmed with excitement, transition, and the endless but necessary building of infrastructure. Yet I see 2010 as budded with promise and potential just waiting to bloom. I’ve never looked forward to a new year more and am thrilled it’s finally here.

We returned home Friday afternoon, then spent the final Saturday and Sunday of the winter break doing little but lingering in the few final hours of rest before we’d be called to shake the Etch-a-Sketch and start all over again.

It feels tremendous to be back. I did miss you, but was gone for good reason.

Not only did I wish to publish the Four Seasons manuscript in full for anyone interested in reading it, I also wanted something running smoothly on autopilot while I worked behind the scenes to bring you the best Writer Dad yet.

Mission accomplished.

2009 was practice for many things in my life, Writer Dad included. I’ve never learned more in a single year than I have in this last, and I’m proud to deliver the strongest stream of content this site has so far seen.

Tomorrow I’ll spill the beans on our exciting new direction. Today I just wanted to say hi, let you know I missed you, and wish you a happy New Year before barging into the room and flapping my gums – something I’m constantly trying to teach Mia not to do.

I’ve never been more eager for a new year, and am thrilled to share this coming one with you.

See you tomorrow!

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Istarted Writer Dad last summer with a five day a week commitment and didn’t drop the ball once for the first six months. Since then I’ve been trying to hit a bulls-eye with a shotgun.

By the end of last year I’d written myself in a corner. I had succeeded in nurturing a wide, warm and loving audience, but had zip, zilch, nada to boost my online income.

Not cool. By trying to pour myself a business and pleasure on the rocks, I was only adding acid to each. I was making Writer Dad less interesting while also severing any opportunity to generate money from the site.

My solution, I thought, was simple: plant a few seeds in fresh dirt and see what I could grow. Yet with only so much fertilizer and water each day, I quickly realized I would need to take a giant step back from Writer Dad. I made the move to once or twice a week. I reasoned that less content would keep each piece focused. Rather than throwing a net over every subject that crossed my mind, I would keep the site focused on fatherhood, family, and those themes I thought my readers would enjoy most.

In other words, I would take the existing recipe then add a dash of vanilla and a heaping sprinkle of monotony.

Obviously I left a few typos in the strategy. I never asked the audience what it wanted and now I believe my instincts were wrong. I think I removed what the audience loved most: the consistency of checking in five days a week, even if nothing more than to say hello.

Truth is, I miss it to.

I miss the immediacy of a daily post. The great gift of being a writer is getting the chance to know yourself a little more each day, and publishing those thoughts is like pouring cement in your personal history. I also miss the explosive growth of this site. I am a creature of ego, no different than anyone else. Compliments and links, for me, are fuel and a heavy foot on the pedal.

I am a writer and a writer writes. There is no reason I can’t come up with enough content to keep this site running five days a week. It’s what I do. I make time for all kinds of writing, I need to make more time for the place that started it all. The solution is simple. I don’t even need to write more any more than I already am, I just need to share more of what I do.

In the last year that I’ve been writing, I’ve stockpiled quite a bit of this and that – much of it now ready to hang on the wall. Starting Monday, Writer Dad is back to five days a week.

Please allow me to ask for something in return.

I don’t get paid for writing around these parts and the extra minutes of my day are few and far between. This is not a money generating site, but I would still like to make money from it indirectly, at the very least as a vehicle to spread my voice as much as possible.

That’s where I need your help.

I make my living from the words I write.
The better they do, the better I do.
The better I do, the more I can follow my muse.
The more I can follow my muse, the happier I will be.
The happier I am, the better writer I will become.
The better writer I am, the more precisely I can tune my thought.

It is the right words that can help to change the world.

I will do all I can to deliver my best 5 days a week. Any time you like what you read, please share it in whatever way works best for you: link it or Tweet it, bookmark it or email it to a friend, but please do share.

It’s better than recycling!

Writer Dad

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Content creation is fun. I love writing sure, but creating content using many different elements is remarkably rewarding. The Collective Inkwell just created out first commercial for Potty Training Power, our system for potty training help.

David Wright did all the drawings, a buddy did the music, and I wrote the jingle then put it all together. Enjoy!

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Happy birthday Writer Dad! Today you’re one year old.

365 days ago Cindy and I made a decision that has since twisted the wind of our lives. I stepped online a tentative writer, but thanks in large part to a bustling comment section I was able to find my voice rather early. Those first few weeks were awkward for sure; I a Freshman trying to find the right table to sit at. I was fortunate enough to make a few friends early – one who has become a permanent fixture of my everyday life.

As filled with reward as this last year has been, it has also been the hardest of my life.

My son was born five years ago. He was then just as he is now; bright, beautiful and beguiling, though he did not yet possess the vocabulary to confirm our suspicions. Despite his amiable nature, he fought for his place with every fiber, handing us a year fraught with complications.

That year lingered, occupied by endless nights of crying as we nursed newborn to boy by forever attending to his bottomless need. Those early months were crowded with just enough struggle to point us toward a path that headed for a different horizon.

And here we are.

This last year lingered, occupied by endless days of writing as we we nursed newborn to name brand by forever attending to its bottomless need. Those early months were crowded with just enough reward to promise we were pointed toward the proper path and our horizon was sure.

In many ways the first year with our son prepared us for this last year of growth. We look at our boy now, a half decade taller, certain every drop of sweat was well spent. Infancy is difficult; attending to the endless needs of someone too little to say “I love you.” The beginnings of Writer Dad have been every bit as hard. I have poured 100% of myself into this site and every satellite project we hold in the hope that I will soon justify my family’s unfailing belief in me.

To celebrate Writer Dad’s first birthday, I would like to share a few of those things currently filling my dreams with the most helium. Please pick one you are not yet familiar with and enjoy. If you already have a favorite, please pass it forward to someone who might enjoy it just as much.

These are our balloons.

Collective Inkwell. The Inkwell is the online space shared between myself and David Wright (Blogger Dad), my online partner and constant collaborator. It is where we each share our ideas on writing and creativity as well as offer our services for copy, web design and branding. We have extraordinary plans for the Inkwell spread across the next several months and I cannot wait to see them to fruition. I am lucky to have a partner as talented, funny and creative as David. If we do even half the things we’ve discussed, it will be difficult to ever stop smiling.

Children Write the Future. In September, this site will soar. Right now the majority of words are passed behind the curtain. There is a thriving community within the email newsletter (monthly tips and writing prompts for children). Cindy and I have read some of the most wonderful pieces of writing from some truly individual voices. As the Inkwell is an online studio for Dave and myself, so is Children Write the Future for me and Cindy. For the teachers inside us, there is nothing on our plate near as rewarding.

Four Seasons. Four Seasons is a collection of twelves short stories, each taking place in a different month.  Each tale’s events are unique to their time, and should each one assemble toward something special. They are written minus an outline and I never know where the tale is going to turn from one month to the next. At the end of December, the twelve tales will be rewritten and joined together into a single book. As of last month, Dave has joined the project because, quite frankly, he makes my writing better.

Cindy Platt dotcom. This one isn’t really mine, but it fills my world with helium anyway. CindyPlatt.com is at a slow burn while my fair lady does the endless duty of taking care of our children seven days a week so I can stay upstairs like Dr. Frankenstein waiting to scream, “It’s ALIVE!” Come September, both our children will be at the same school for five days a week for the first time – all her brainstorms will shower.

Potty Training Power. The potty training system and attached blog are a branding product of the Inkwell. The blog offers tips, tricks and plenty of sound advice for potty training your child. The product is all kinds of awesome that includes a potty training ebook, potty training charts, a potty training quick tips companion ebook, an illustrated picture ebook called Number One and Two it! (written by me, drawn by Dave, and totally adorable) along with a companion video. All in addition to a couple of bonuses and full email support from Cindy and myself so we can help hold your hand through the potty training process. We’ve spent the last month polishing it to a shine, today is its official relaunch.

Available Darkness. I don’t have words for how cool this project is turning out. This debuted over at the Inkwell. Available Darkness is genre bending serialized fiction co-written by Dave and I with a new chapter unveiled each Friday. Behind the curtain, the story is nearing completion. We have big plans for the franchise, including ink later this year.

Ghostwriter Dad. My little spot on the web where I trade words for dollars with a smile on my face. I don’t get the byline, but I do get to play with language. Some of my business is SEO copy, but I also write love letters, wedding vows, fiction, speeches, and have even written a few (surprisingly satisfying) letters of complaint. Sometimes it is a joy to simply fade behind the copy. The homepage offers my services, but I write once or twice a week on the blog about the experience of being a ghostwriter. You can subscribe to the feed here.

One year back my best friend and I bolted our eyes and dared to dream. We no longer wished to live a life spent running around the track, craving a future of limitless sky instead of low ceiling. We have our sky and we have our helium. These are our balloons.

Writer Dad

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Today’s Writer Dad is some supremely light reading. I’m answering Marc’s meme. I’m not crazy about memes in general, but Marc is one of my favorite freelance writers and these questions seemed like a fair spot of fun, so here goes:

Who is the hottest movie star? Cinematic history is a bit too long to pull from so I’ll answer with one male and one female from our modern era. For a male I would have to say George Clooney. He strikes me as a little bit of a rascal, kind of a gentleman, and cool. He’s got an old school vibe, but can kick it with the modern clan no problem. For a female I would say Monica Bellucci or Salma Hayek – both beyond beautiful with intelligence behind their eyes.

Apart from your house and your car what is the most expensive item you ever bought? My desktop computer: a G5 iMac, the last model before Apple (wisely) made the switch to Intel chips.

What is your most treasured memory? Really tough question, but as I type this the most obvious answer would have to be the day my wife handed me her business card. Many of my most beautiful memories from the last dozen years were born on that day.

What was the best gift you ever received as a child? That would probably be the Masters of the Universe Castle Greyskull set I got from Santa when I was five. It was so awesome! Honorable mention goes to a tie between the long board I got for my sixteenth birthday and the Fender Stratocaster I got that Christmas.

What’s the biggest mistake you made? Ever? That’s difficult. I see mistakes as an essential part of life. I suppose any mistake where I didn’t learn from the experience would qualify.

4 words to describe yourself: Honest, loyal, intelligent, loving. Honorable mention: occasionally scattered.

What was your highlight or lowlight of 2008? The highlight of my 2008 was deciding to become a writer and then making the full transition to online entrepreneur.

Favourite film Magnolia, The Godfather, Kill Bill – all awesome and I could watch them without ever growing tired. Also, anything by Pixar.

Tell me one thing I don’t know about you: KLFDJ ljadfk ieoolak jfie i;alfjie jill afme.

If you were a comic book/strip or cartoon character who would you be? I don’t know the actual answer, but I’d love to say Batman. He is my favorite superhero because he has no super powers, just decades of dedication. I love his sense of justice, love that he is just a man, and love the way his legend has been handled (for the most part).

Leave an answer to any or all of the above questions in the comments below.

Writer Dad

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First off, I wanted to say thanks to all those of you who came by the Collective Inkwell to wish Dave and me well on our new writing and creativity site. We had such a wonderfully warm welcome. I also wanted to say thank you to those of you who subscribed to the Ghostwriter Dad feed. That was a nice surprise. At only one a week, those posts have the potential to be pretty cool.

With that gratitude neatly wrapped, I’d like to say a bit more. I think it’s important to thank your readers. I’d like to spend a few hundred words thanking some of mine.

Next week Writer Dad will officially flow into its second version. I’ll start on Monday by writing a rundown of my expectations for the site. Since we’re all here together, I thought it would be nice if we expected them together. Before I can do that, there is something else I must attend to. Each night before laying my head on the pillow, I like to acknowledge my day.

Before placing this first part of Writer Dad into the past, I would like to lend a round of applause to celebrate those who added so much conversation to the show.

As of this post, this site has seen 5,981 comments. That’s a lot of voices to bounce around such a small space. There is no way I would have been able to cross the chasms I did with the faith that I had were it not for many of the cheerleaders on this list, who propped me up, pushed me forward, told me I could do it and then said it again.

On paper, I could never have imagined that the compliments of people whose eye colors are a mystery could have collectively conspired to shape the first breath of my online voice. But they did and it is something that would do me well to never take for granted.

Thank you, in no particular order…

Kool Aid at Butterflies in My Hand is a wonderful lady. I started out with my moniker as a mystery, but Kool Aid has kept herself shrouded in shadow. That’s okay, Kool Aid, I know you have awesome taste in music and are a fantastic mother. What more would I possibly need?

Barbara Swafford from Blogging Without a Blog has built a community that is all about thriving community. Your comment sections are always full and the exchanges tend to linger. Once a week you shine the spotlight on a new blogger to ever widen a web of citizens.

Randi at Foreign Quang might just be the Writer Dad comment queen. Randi, your comments are always so wonderfully thoughtful and indefatigably sincere. Your appreciation for my family and who we are is evident in everything you’ve ever said. Your students are fortunate.

Cindy at Namas Daisy. Though her comments are rare, she has sat beside me and listened to me as I have read every single word this site has ever published. Sometimes with just a slight tilt in your expression, you give me the feedback I need to lend my posts that little extra polish.

Vered is a mommy blogger extraordinairre who might be the reigning comment queen of the blogosphere. Vered, you were  the first and only one to drop a comment on my first post. You said, “This was beautiful! You write really well. I am subscribing.” The instant hope bloomed from that single comment on my first day in the blogoshphere is one I’ll never forget.

Emily from Remodeling This Life is SIMPLY wonderful. I love how your site focuses on frugal living and extracting the best from each of our moments. It is beautiful, inspired, and in perfect alignment with a well lived life.

Janice is a musician and poet as well as  writer and certified life coach. Janice, you would certainly be the WD comment queen were it not for Randi. I appreciate your deep belief in me and unwavering faith that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing and that a bath of success is iminant.

Hayden Tompkins is all about rockin personal development. Though you have a multitude of appreciable qualities, one thing I have always loved is how you speak directly to my children. You comment TO them in a way that makes me certain I pass your thought forward.

Megan is my sister as well as one of my favorite writers. Thanks, Megan for believing in me and actually one time calling my writing “fancy,” even if you were mocking me.

Marelisa writes an outstanding creativity blog. If I didn’t have my own, it would totally be my favorite. Thank you Mare, besides your wonderful thoughts, I have to say my favorite thing about your comments is that wonderful beaming smile of yours.

Trina may have a site, but I have no idea as she’s never left a URL. Her comments are pure, genuine compliments. Thank you Trina for taking so many opportunities to comment on my words. We can never make more minutes and you have given many to me.

GreenJello wishes her readers well and hopes that they may live an interesting life. Thank you for always saying such succinct, intelligent and thoughtful things. Your comments have the measured pace of someone who chooses to absorb the world around them.

Eric Hamm talks about motivation like no one else I know. Thank you Eric for sending me an email out of the blue six months ago and asking if there was anything you could do to help. Few trails started in my inbox have gone further.

Lori is a space age sage with a black belt who is about to blow our minds with a brand new site. Thanks Lori for wielding wisdom so wonderfully. I love your comments and emails both. I enjoy your love of humor, sci-fi and all things cool.

Patricia has wisdom as any reader of her blog knows. Writing is her joy and connection is her purpose. Thank you Patricia for always leaving your comments unguarded. It is obvious that you speak from the heart and say what you mean.

Laurie, why don’t you have a blog? You have plenty to say and know how to say it well. I think you would look good in Thesis. Thank you for your constant compliments and incessant encouragement. Your belief in my abilities is warming.

Daisy is not my wife, but raises the wonderful point in her site that the “answer starts with you.” True that. Thank you Daisy for making me laugh on several occassions. I always looked forward to your comments and knew they would make me smile even if they were from the “other” Daisy.

Blogger Dad is a creative cartoonist with a colorful personality. Thank you Dave for making me laugh on a regular basis. Your talent is supreme and your editing makes me look smarter than I really am.

Maya is looking for happiness and balance in her life and career, while sharing what she learns with her readers. Thank you Maya for trying to pull the child from inside me and place it with your promising project. I’m looking forward.

Sal scribbles some nonsensical ramblings of a 20 something guy while managing to strike a balance between funny and thoughtful. Sal, I don’t know if you were here from the first week, but if you weren’t it was awfully close. Thanks for being a constant and always having manners.

Evelyn Lyn wants to help people transform lives. Evelyn, thank you for always drawing parallels. Your comments always have a way of joining our experience together. You personalize your comment by talking about your daughter, which makes me feel it ever more.

Friar is the author of one of the funniest blogs I’ve ever read. Thank you Friar for never being afraid to speak your mind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen quite the measure of humor and intelligence as you regularly display.

Marc is a freelance writer from Wales who, impossibly, cares not for the American version of the Office. Thank you Marc for supporting me everywhere I go and always being quick to respond when I have a silly question that I could probably answer myself.

Matthew Dryden is a bloody brilliant freelance writer. Thank you Matthew for your strong early support and never being afraid to stand up and speak your mind. That sort of courage seems at times a lost art.

Kyddryn writes in such an authentic voice that I can practically hear the lilt of her voice as she’s slinging her shade and sweetwater. Thank you Kyddryn for long comments that feel like they were written in the shade of a tree.

Melissa Donovan of Writing Forward authors one of my favorite spots for creative writing tips. (Quick aside: she was also recently named to Writer’s Digest’s 100 best websites for writers. High 5!) Thanks for helping to bring out the best writer inside me.

Jamie Simmerman of Blue Duck Copy gave me my first early lessons in SEO writing. Thank you for being so genuinely helpful so often. If there is a nicer person online, I have yet to meet them.

Mike Goad of Exit 78 reminds me of what is so wonderful about generations that have planted their flag before mine. Mike, your intelligence, work ethic, and clear speech are always a pleasure to read, regardless of which comment box I find them in.

Chase March writes in silent cocophany and is a teacher (I’m sure) like few I’ve ever had. Thank you Chase for always speaking your mind and being direct. I loved when you said, “I don’t buy Lucas as a 10 year old.” It made the subsequent compliments stand out in bold type.

Grammy is WriterDad’s Mom. She sometimes comments from her computer class or the library, but ALWAYS makes me read my posts out loud when she comes over for dinner each Thursday. Thanks for your support mom, even though you are crazier than a bag of brains left in the sun.

Bamboo Forest is funny, intelligent, and a bit of a mystery. Thank you Bamboo for being such a great conversationalist both in and out of the inbox. There are few bloggers I am more curious about or more eager to see where life takes them than you.

Kristin T claims she’s halfway to normal, but I beg to differ. You are wonderful Kristin because you articulate the confusion that is inside us all. No one is normal. Normal is probably only achieved upon the removal of the frontal lobe.

Steph is a professional editor and one of the first online people to steep my potential. Steph, your quiet belief in me helped fuel me forward in a way that was so perfectly ideal for that time and place. You say things so well, they never need to be said in other words.

Ian from Indigo Spot has a quiet, intelligent manner that is far too rare. Thank you Ian for always wishing others well and never failing to appreciate the things around you. The good things that are happening in your life are well deserved I’m sure.

Rita had an impact on the first few months of this site, both undeniable and disengenuous not to acknowledge. An episode I still don’t understand and subsequent surrender to “Satan with a side of hot sauce” left me confused. Regardless, thank you Rita for your early hoorahs.

Dave Fowler is still in the midst of dealing with blog burnout, but will probably end up owning the Internet one day. Dave, you are impossibly funny and I have laughed so often from your emails that I now giggle at the simple site of your name. Thank you for your early and unrelenting support.

Vodka Mom is a mom and kindergarten teacher with an awesome blog. More than any other commenter, you made me want to dig deep and finish RedBook. There’s an awesome story there waiting to be told. I’m looking forward to November.

Ryan Scott, sometimes known as Oktober5, is cool and a bit of a mystery. Thank you Ryan for always having such striking integrity and always being so willing to try new things. You present a wonderful model to follow.

Tara is one of my favorite mums. Her wit is sharp and love for movies enaging. Tara, I love our common interests and genuine banter. Thanks for being one of the first to show me that Twitter wasn’t just a tool, but a place to laugh as well.

Lance cuts his way through the Jungle of Life with gentle thought and reason. Lance, your sincerity shines between the words. I will forever remember that comment you left on Jamie’s site. It was a wowzer. Your site, by the way, is looking better every day.

Wendi-Kelly knows all about life’s little inspirations and passes them forward to each of her readers. Thank you Wendi for always having something thoughtful to say. I remember many of your comments clearly and some still speak to me to this day.

Stacey wants to create a balance, a worthy goal we all should strive for. Thank you Stacey, specifically for our email exchange not too long ago. Those couple of sentences meant so much, I repeated them later to my wife.

Susan Green isn’t a heavy commenter, but she has never been shy about filling my inbox with wonderful assistance. Thank you Susan, not just for being an awesome freelance copywriter who is so willing to share your experience, but for being so genuinely concerned about the welfare of my family.

Teena and Karen are two previous clients who strongly believe in what Cindy and I are doing. They have been unwavering in their support and cheerleading. Teena, thank you for every kind word you’ve ever said. I simply can’t count high enough to assign a number. Karen, thank you for letting us know how grateful you were for all we did. Gratitude covers more distance than most things in life. I love how often you’ve expressed it to both Cindy and myself.

Renee doesn’t have a blog, nor has she ever commented. She has, however, sent me more emails than I can count telling me how much my words mean to her. Thank you Renee for taking care of our children during those first few years, before we were able to do it ourselves.

Thank you to everyone for everything. I look forward to what is nex.

Writer Dad

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I may be a ghostwriter, but today I’m just a guy in an orange vest pointing you in a different direction.

My long awaited custom copy and design studio co-owned with cartoonist and journalist David Wright is now live. It’s called Collective Inkwell, where we do ink…well.

Anyone who reads Blogger Dad already knows Dave writes with wit and wonderful heart, and for those who appreciate constant change, he also tweaks the look of his theme on a semi-weekly basis. This is a testament to both his constant search for perfection and unending need to coax the creative inside him.

Jump on over and subscribe. If you are a blogger, writer, or creator of anything, you will love it. Though we have built it to service the needs of a client base who desire crystal clear copy and squeaky clean themes, we have designed it to inspire the artist inside us all.

Please hop on over, say hello, and grab the feed.

Writer Dad

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“The creative is the place where no one else has ever been. You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you’ll discover will be wonderful. What you’ll discover is yourself.”

~ Alan Alda

Writer Dad has been one of the most unexpected and edifying adventures to ever sweep through my life with a torrent of sudden change, hope, and revelation.

The site was started as a time capsule, capturing five thoughts per week, each spooled into 500 words or so.

I’ve discussed being a writer, being a dad, and other assorted escapades as I bandied about the online world, but behind it all this stoop has always been about my family; the legacy I leave and stories I wish to pass. Writer Dad has focused on fatherhood with well written tales about all the big and small that orbits my life.

The problem is, as long as this site is  my predominant dwelling, it is also the lone fabric for every thread that requires stitching. Writer Dad is all ME, but it isn’t ALL OF ME.

I now need a new front stoop where other sides of my self can wander out to play.

I need a spot where I can spit business, but Writer Dad isn’t it. I enjoy talking shop, rapping about my various projects, and discussing all that’s working and all that isn’t. Yet those topics probably were never right for this audience to begin with and are now off key enough to sour the tune. I prefer my music sweet.

Allow me to tell you about a new baby and a wee toddler.

First off is a project that’s been percolating since there was turkey in the oven and Christmas around the corner.

David Wright (Blogger Dad) and I are opening the doors of a brand new business – an online shop fusing what we each do well and then taking it to remarkable by doing it in tandem. But it isn’t just a storefront, it is a site committed to the creativity of blogging and the content to reflect it. The site will appeal to anybody out there who blogs or wants to blog outside the lines. The business itself will highlight an entire menu of creative services from web copy to custom graphics.

Dave is one of the most talented, funny, and overall amazing people I’ve ever met. He is my favorite person to write with and our first collaborative narrative will be featured on the site in weekly installments of aggregating awesome.

We’ll lift the curtain on that baby next Monday.

This site, my first online baby is now ready to toddle about while I sit on the couch pretending to read a magazine. From now on, Writer Dad will post twice a week and excel at what it’s always done best. I’m sorry for any times I’ve tried to cram too much into this little space, but now it can linger in what it was always meant to be. I love the idea of giving my posts a few more days to breathe. Too often I’ve felt the sting of pouring my heart into a post that is set to decay just twenty-five hours past the original point of publish. With a few days breath, comments can swell, conversation can linger, and the yawning thoughts I leave to forever no longer need fall from the front page in such a hurry.

On Friday I’d like to publish a few of my favorite posts from the last seven months. After that, I’ll see you next week for Writer Dad 2.0

Also, what was started as a niche site with Ghostwriter Dad is slowly evolving into something else. I guess it’s too difficult for me to just write about something and forget it. Ghostwriter Dad was a place for me to drop keyword posts to target search engine traffic. It turns out, now that I’m a ghostwriter, I’ve got plenty to say. I’ll be writing about ghostwriting once a week. You can grab the feed here.

Thank you everyone for everything. The first draft of Writer Dad was remarkable. If you have anything to offer regarding the old, any suggestions with respect to the new, or a favorite post you’d like to see highlighted on Friday, I’d love to let hear it in the comments.

Writer Dad

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