#4 Things I wish I had taught my son... And still can
Aug/31/2008 07:21 AM
Write... And write... And write... Until it feels right.
I've written award winning ads and commercials. I've written songs for commercials, they used to call them jingles (a term I hated). I've written many songs for my wife, your mom. I've written a few songs for you along with your brothers and sisters to sing on Mother's Day. I've even written a Christian song with you and about 9 others. I've written poems which I have never shared with you. And perhaps I never will.
From 1998 to 2000, if memory serves me right, I wrote a daily email diary that I shared with my brothers, sisters and parents. I have those on some obscure backup drive stashed away.
I've written a book... A book that nobody read. Not even my wife or any of my children. When we were courting, I wrote a daily letter to my girlfriend, your mom, when I was in Austin, Texas and she was in Laredo, Texas and later San Antonio. She also wrote back to me every day.
And now I'm writing my "I wish I had taught my son" emails to you.
What you may not know is that when I was your age, I despised writing. My first three essay grades in English totaled 75. 25 each. I thought I would be thrown out of college because I couldn’t write. I had no clue about grammar. My vocabulary was pitiful. And all those ideas I had... They were trapped in my head with no possible way of jumping out to a page or a screen.
I struggled through college even though I had great grades. And I just wanted to get all my writing over with. Or so I thought.
Becoming a writer of stuff was not in my plans but I now thank God every day that he blessed me with the ability to finally understand how to organize my thoughts into something readable.
The lesson today is that you make writing a priority. It is a time machine. A portal. A journey. A friend.
Write on!
Your papi
I've written award winning ads and commercials. I've written songs for commercials, they used to call them jingles (a term I hated). I've written many songs for my wife, your mom. I've written a few songs for you along with your brothers and sisters to sing on Mother's Day. I've even written a Christian song with you and about 9 others. I've written poems which I have never shared with you. And perhaps I never will.
From 1998 to 2000, if memory serves me right, I wrote a daily email diary that I shared with my brothers, sisters and parents. I have those on some obscure backup drive stashed away.
I've written a book... A book that nobody read. Not even my wife or any of my children. When we were courting, I wrote a daily letter to my girlfriend, your mom, when I was in Austin, Texas and she was in Laredo, Texas and later San Antonio. She also wrote back to me every day.
And now I'm writing my "I wish I had taught my son" emails to you.
What you may not know is that when I was your age, I despised writing. My first three essay grades in English totaled 75. 25 each. I thought I would be thrown out of college because I couldn’t write. I had no clue about grammar. My vocabulary was pitiful. And all those ideas I had... They were trapped in my head with no possible way of jumping out to a page or a screen.
I struggled through college even though I had great grades. And I just wanted to get all my writing over with. Or so I thought.
Becoming a writer of stuff was not in my plans but I now thank God every day that he blessed me with the ability to finally understand how to organize my thoughts into something readable.
The lesson today is that you make writing a priority. It is a time machine. A portal. A journey. A friend.
Write on!
Your papi
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