In which Michael Jackson is a 300lb white guy from New Jersey
As I’ve mentioned on this blog before, none of us creative types really go it alone, despite our image as weird, crazy loner types.
In my case, I wouldn’t ever be able to put pen to paper (or fingers to keys, more accurately) without the love and support of my wonderful wife, Lisa. OK, let’s be honest — I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out of bed without her, much less do any sort of work.
Lisa’s stood by me and supported me through, well, everything in the last 11 years. She’s been the one to keep us afloat financially while I was being all arty and insufferable. She’s the one who tells me when the stuff I write is good, and when it could be better. And she’s also the person that makes me want to be the best of everything I can possibly be, be that writer, husband, or just plain old person.
So, to her I say, of course, Happy Birthday! I love you!