When I was a kid, I knew exactly what I wanted to be if I ever grew up: I wanted to be Batman.
Looking back now, I guess that maybe possibly might not have been the most realistic of goals. Subsequent fantasies of becoming the President of the United States, a film actor, and a wealthy publishing magnate with my own line of comic books, pulp magazines, and a girlie slick to compete with Playboy and Penthouse (which, of course, would come with its own pulchritudinous army of counterparts to the Playboy Playmates and Penthouse Pets) were really no more plausible than my earlier dream of racin' around in a cape and mask and boppin' bad guys in their evil-doing schnozzolas.
That still leaves two more life-long ambitions: to be a rock star, and to be a writer. The former is not going to happen. But I am a writer. I'm not a particularly successful writer, granted; nonetheless, I am indeed a writer.
My bucket list has been pretty modest, I think. When I was 24 years old, I was fortunate enough to be paid for something I wrote, and I went on to be a hobbyist freelance writer for the next 22 years. It was strictly non-fiction: histories of comic books and musical performers and genres, album reviews, liner notes, interviews with The Ramones and Joan Jett. I never made a living at it--I realized years ago that I was never going to be a full-time professional writer, and came to terms with that realization--but I enjoyed it, and it was well worth it. In 2006, I stopped freelancing because it wasn't fun anymore. But I still love to write, I keep this daily blog, and I still pull at little mental threads with the hope of selling one of my pieces again.
I've had two big bucket-list items, and two secondary ones. One is that rock star thing, to perform with a band at least one night; the other big one is to write a book and get it published. The former's a pipe dream, the latter is...possible. Plausible, even. If I don't quite manage to write the great (or even so-so) novel I envision, I betcha I can put together a decent volume of my musical musings, especially a book collection of my ongoing series The Greatest Record Ever Made. I can't sing or play guitar, but a book? I think I can achieve my goal of doing a book.
The two secondary items on that bucket list? I checked 'em both off this week. I wanted to sell a piece of fiction, and I wanted to sell something that would appear in a comic book. On Monday, the good folks at AHOY Comics purchased my short story "Guitars Vs. Rayguns," a rock 'n' roll comedy text piece that will appear in one of AHOY's fine titles. Check and check. And, in fact, a check on its way to me soon. Writing for money! I approve of that message. I hope to do more of it soon.
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