When asked to write a mission statement, what flowed from my pen (along the keystrokes, actually) is something that works just as great as an update. Consider this a nice little teaser and cross your fingers that I stick around a while. I'm only at my best when I'm writing.
Where the hell have I been for the past year and a half? As it turns out, literally in a kind of figurative hell. More on that later. For now:
Once upon a time, a southern writer and journalist came to the Pacific Northwest. For more than two years, he honed his craft in a faraway place where he cultivated a whole new family, along with the esteem and respect of the men and women in the Central Washington community.
Talent for his craft strengthened as his popularity began to soar. After accepting an offer not his pride nor his ego -- and especially not his newfound vanity -- would allow him to refuse, the southerner soon discovered most of all that glitters truly is entirely too good to be true. For the first time in his life, the writer forced himself to to answer the most important questions of his life: What happens when "artist," the descriptor is removed from the artist himself: What kind of man is he otherwise? And how does he endure criticism when each of his other marketable skills are held up for review by the whole world.
Talent, creativity, and a passion for language aside, I'm equally ambitious, driven, hard-working and intensely loyal to my leaders and every member of my team. I'm requesting permission to come aboard -- this is a vessel on which I'd like to set sail.
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