Life ain’t too bad. I theorized earlier that we (as a species) waste so much time trying to give death meaning that we forget to live. I’ll worry about death when I get there. One thing going to war so much taught me was there isn’t any point in thinking about it. It’ll happen when its meant to and that’s it. Instead, I focus on living.
The need for more took me from the battlefield, to the hallowed halls of West Point where I rounded out my career, and into the publishing industry. Boy, was I underprepared for what came next. Publishers, editors, semi-professionals who consistently put out a poor to mediocre product. Throw in over a million authors and it’s no wonder the majority of indie authors want to throw in the towel.
Only, here’s the catch, I don’t know how to quit. Sorry, not my thing. I was trained to meet a problem head on and keep pounding away until its defeated. It may take years, maybe more, but I’ll be damned if I let anything keep me from reaching my goals. Sure, I’ll take my lumps and learn from my lessons. I’ll make all new mistakes just as I think I’m past that part and move on.
All things considered, life ain’t too bad. Besides, no one is shooting at me and that’s a good thing.
Since I’m feeling it, you all are the first to see the new cover to my upcoming rerelease of my combat memoirs. Bookstores are flooded with stories about the generals and people in Washington running the war. Isn’t it time for more books about the men and women who did the dirty work?