Mom died in 2011. Her loss devastated Dad and me. We discovered that we had a choice…
“Get busy living or get busy dying.”
Let me explain… Dad and Mom met in high school. Within a few days, they were inseparable. They were best friends first. That was a time when it was unusual for boys and girls to have that kind of relationship.
Dad, Mom, and Jason years ago.
Dad was a tough guy, a boxer. Mom was also an athlete, a track star. They did everything together. She helped him train. He ran with her in the mornings. They spoke late into the night on the phone. Within a year, they had fallen in love.
After high school, they were engaged. Married. I was born. Our family from that point on as close as a family could be. Jokes and teasing were the norm; so were morning and bedtime hugs. Mom and Dad — two crazy lovebirds, an inseparable team.
So when mom died suddenly in 2011 — a heart attack with no warning — I was devastated. But for Dad the pain was unbearable. He plunged into an abyss. He lived in void. Mom was his life. He was lost. READ MORE
So you want to be a writer. You’ve picked a tough trade. Many try. Few succeed. But you’ve got an edge. One hell of an edge.
Writer Joe Hill, son of Stephen King.
He’s the world’s best best-selling author. Fifty novels. Fifty-million sales. Stephen King is his name. Most would kill for that “in”. You lucked out. The King of Scream is your dad.
You’re a lucky guy — the son of the King. As an aspiring writer, what do you do to leverage Dad’s name?
A crazy move most would say. You change your name!
What happens? You struggle for years. You write. Submit. Rejection, day after day. You soldier on with your “art.” You try not to get down. You peck away in obscurity. Just like every other writing schmuck.
Then, your stuff starts to catch. On your own, you become a best-selling author. Award-winner. Genre-shaper. Critical darling … before anyone knew you were Stephen King’s son. READ MORE