I welcome you and ask you to join me in finding out what is on the other side of the fence.
I write for myself, my family, and now the people who visit my little spot on the World Wide Web. In the last few years, I have – by accepting my limitations as a man – realised the future is full of infinite possibilities. As a writer, I have committed myself to exploring them and taking literary chances.
In the fall of 1988, my mother dropped me off at MorganHigh School in Clinton, Connecticut. I had a tie on, a pen in my hand, and a notebook in my pocket. Without really understanding the significance of the moment, I had been given a job writing for the local weekly. I was instructed to cover the Morgan v. Haddam-Killingworth Varsity Girls Volleyball match. I’m pretty sure my editors knew I couldn’t drive. I’m pretty sure they knew I was only a freshman in high school. I’m pretty sure they knew I was 14. Still… there I was: a paid reporter with my first byline.
Since that frightful moment, I have been writing. Sometimes getting paid. Sometimes writing things worth reading. Sometimes meeting my deadlines. Writing for school, teachers, editors and myself. Despite writing for well over 20 years – minus a bit a vacation – I constantly have to remind myself why I do it. What is it I want to say? Who is it that I want to say it to?
This little space on the Internet I have carved out for myself will help me answer those questions. And hopefully create some new questions worth discussing.
Other than what you see here, I share my life with a wonderful woman from south London. She may not think so, but I know she is a brilliant person and nothing I write fails to cross her path first. She is my inspiration and my driving artistic force. We live in Barnstaple, England – a small, market town near the Atlantic Ocean in the county of Devon. It is nestled into a landscape mixed with sheep-filled pastures, thick hedgerows, a tangle of rivers and lots of rolling hills. This area was rumoured to have played a role in Tolkien’s inspiration for Middle Earth. I can agree with a certain “Hobbit-like” vibe. The people are friendly and welcoming, and I have quickly fallen in love with my surroundings. Although the locals are shocked when I tell them so, I love the weather. I really, really can’t stand the heat.
I have very strong memories of the heat as I came to this part of the world from Saint Louis, Missouri. I left a few great friends in the StL, but most importantly, my two daughters live there with their mother. They are both amazing girls and I cannot wait to help them grow to be adults and make them proud of their daddy in Britain. In addition to my American girls, I have gained a precocious 5-year-old who often thinks of me as her evil step-father. In my defense, I only want her to finish her vegetables. Evil is a bit harsh just because of green beans.
I also have a beautiful baby girl who has the distinct pleasure of being a citizen of two great nations. Other than being the youngest, this young lady may very well be the glue that holds my international family together when me and their mother move on to the other side of that big fence in the sky.
So… the major question remains: what is The Devonian Lionheart?
Simply, it is a representation of my wide-range of interests. Fiction, poetry, photography, books, expatriatism, fitness and history. I am throwing the contents of my brain into this from the outset. Over time, some of my topics may disappear and others may find their way into the mix. In a perfect world, this website will someday be the way I pay some of my bills.
But for right now, the only thing I hope for each and every posting is the same thing I hoped for my first article about that volleyball match in 1988: after reading it or seeing it, it makes you think.
Just think. What you think about is up to you.