The strange thing about chasing a book dream is that sooner or later it stops being just you and the page. You can hide in the drafts, dance with your ghosts, polish sentences until they shine like new chrome, but there comes a day when the work taps you on the shoulder and says, “Alright, kid. Time to get loud.” And that’s where I found myself this week—standing at the intersection of Word Grit and Real Life, realizing that writing the book was just the warm-up jog. The real marathon is learning to show my face, lift my voice, and talk about what I’m building.
And if you know me, you know that’s not my natural habitat. I’ve spent a lifetime moving like a monk with a side hustle—quiet, observant, a little allergic to the spotlight. As a Buddhist, the idea of self-promotion feels like showing up to meditation with a megaphone. My nature leans toward the humble, the low key, the anonymous contributor drifting through the world with a half-smile and a notebook. But the book wants more from me than quiet devotion. It wants presence. It wants a pulse.
The “book” wants the guy who wrote these pages to step out from behind them and say, “Yeah, this is mine. Here’s why it matters.” So now I’m staring down the reality that Word Grit isn’t just something I can release into the void like a message in a bottle. I have to talk about it. On video. On social media. In full view of a world that scrolls fast and judges quicker. And yet—there’s a weird calm settling in. Maybe the practice is the point. Maybe showing up is just another form of letting go. Maybe I’m learning that humility isn’t silence; it’s honesty without theatrics.
So if I can bring that spirit—the grounded, truth-forward beat of this whole Word Grit project—into the camera, then I’m not breaking my path. I’m walking it. One frame at a time. One post at a time. One brave, awkward, necessary step closer to the finish line of this book. Let’s see where it goes.
