Becoming An Author

I jokingly tell people, if I would've known then what I know now...I never would've become an author! Being raised on a farm and ranch under the unique supervision of "real" cowboys, I've been cursed with the mentality that you don't start somethin' you don't finish, and "it's better to go twice a laughin' instead of once a cryin'."

Grandpa Ira Willis used to tell us this all the time, and even though Da passed away over four years ago, his wisdom and hard work ethic still flows thick through all his kids and grandkids. We love and miss him terribly, but we find comfort in knowing we will see him again someday.

So, once I decided to jump into the swirling pool of authorship with it's unknown depths and dangers, I knew I'd either sink or swim. Doggy-paddling my way out was not an option. That was around July of 2013, but it was far from the beginning of this crazy journey.

If I had to pin point the moment when this all began, I would have to take you back to my English class my freshman year of high school. 

I hated English. Not because I didn't enjoy writing, but it seemed, over the years, every time I turned in an assignment I would completely miss the concept the teacher was looking for. "Re-do" became the dreaded words of my writing experience. It was frustrating! I'd pour my heart into each assignment only to get slammed for it. But one day my freshman year, Mrs. Lyman called me to her desk. Now, I can't remember exactly what was said, but I can get pretty close.

"This isn't what I asked you to do." Her demeanor was uncharacteristically solemn as she held my paper in both hands. Surely my gaze dropped as my heart sank. "But...." The word was soft and foreign. Not the customary "re-do" I was expecting. 

I looked up confused. She studied my face for a second, and then held the paper out. I grabbed it, but it didn't release from her hand. Now she really had my attention. Staring at me with her serious eyes, she said, "I want you to finish this story."

I was flabbergasted. She liked it?

Without cracking a smile, she let go of the assignment, and said, "I'm serious! I want you to take some time this summer and finish this story. It's really good!" I'm still not sure what the assignment was supposed to be, she never said a word about doing it over, but what I had done was write an introduction to a story about my life. It was the highest compliment I'd ever received, and I'll never forget it.

Needless to say, I didn't finish my story that summer. I'm a farmer, remember! Summers are way too busy, and at that age, when your not working you're playing! Time came and went, but that little spark never died.

Eventually, I graduated high school, served a mission, finished a two-year college degree, got married to the girl of my dreams, and settled comfortably behind the wheel of a big green tractor. Life had finally allowed me time to reflect on that old spark. Gently, I began to fan it with ideas, plots, and characters that I felt would make my story the most enjoyable to share. 

That's when Airlis was born!

Years of day-dreaming passed. Then one day in July, I gathered my courage, and Tiffany pushed me off the cliff....

She really did! I wouldn't have done it without her support. She knew I'd fantasized about it for years, and finally got tired of me doing nothing about it! I know she regrets it now, because for six months she lost her husband. I would come home after work, open the computer, and write for four to six hours. It was not the most intelligent way to do it, I admit that now. Our marriage suffered, the kids suffered, and when I was asked to accept a calling in our church that required a high level of commitment, I realized it was time to put Airlis away.

I was discouraged. The story was only halfway completed, but I couldn't do it anymore. In my frustration I was about to throw it in the trash, but luckily I married an amazing woman. She threatened if I did, she'd beat me with a stick! Okay, there were no sticks involved, but she did say she would be very upset, and that was enough incentive to just put it on a shelf for a while.

Two years went by. Every time I thought about the project I had started but never finished...it drove me nutts! The only way to avoid going crazy was to force those thoughts into that box on the shelf and lock them away. Eventually, I thought about it less and less until it became merely a shadow of a hope.

Then life changed again. I was released from that calling. Life fell into a comfortable balance. Christmas came and went, and all was well in Zion. Then one sunday in January 2016, Tiffany was out of town visiting family and I'd gone to church by myself. While sitting in the back row of the Gospel Principles class I had a soft impression,  Finish the book.

When I called Tiffany later that evening, to my surprise she was extremely excited! We had learned a few things from the first go round, and decided, if I could find a better balance, we could make this work. Flames rekindled, I pulled that dusty box off the shelf.

Within a few days the fire started sputtering. I couldn't work all day and write all night and not expect to suffer some kind of consequences. In a desperate move, I went to Dad. You see, three of us run the family business now: My dad, my brother Ira, and myself. January is a slow month on the farm, but I was still nervous to ask Dad if he'd give me a few weeks off to finish my book. He and Ira were both very supportive, and their sacrifice became part of the mountain of sacrifices it'd eventually require to complete just one simple book.

I did it! In the process of two and a half weeks I finished Airlis! Slap a cover on it and put it on the shelf!

Bwahaha!!! Oh, that's funny.

That was the first part of February of this year...now it's December. Hundreds of thousands of hours have been spent by me and a plethora of others to refine, reproof, rewrite, reread, repent, and then restart the process over again since that day in February.

After months of this gruelling process--most all of this work being donated/sacrificed freely by others--I decided to hire editor Irene Hunt. I'm sure she had many sleepless nights debating why she had agreed to take on this project. With her help, not only did Airlis begin to shine like an actual book, but she also helped me improve as an author.

NOW it's finished! My very talented cousin Cassie is painting the cover as I write, and within a week or two Airlis will be on the shelf!

Words can't express the gratitude I feel for everyone who helped this dream become reality. I hope you know how much I love and appreciate each one of you. Especially my dear wife, Tiffany, who sacrifices all, everyday.

As for you, "reader of another man's journal", :-) it's my hope and deepest desire that your life is touched in some small way by this story and all who made it possible. God does bless our lives with miracles. Open your eyes and you'll see, they happen everyday! 

brian