Dear Mom and Dad,
Mark Twain published Tom Sawyer in 1876, at the age of 41. He then published Huckleberry Finn in 1883, at the age of 47, give or take. Prior to this time he was basically unknown. He bounced from town to town, and job to job, trying to find his place in the world. Ernest Hemingway (a writer of some note) later wrote that “All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn.” Now, I am not saying that I can compare to Mr. Twain, nor do I ever expect to receive such a glowing review from Mr. Hemingway. What I’m saying is, maybe just calm down a little bit and try having some faith in me. It would go a long way toward making our phone calls a little less tense. Not everybody can figure their shit out in their 20’s, and I think it would be real nice if you would just…blah blah blah. Oh, fuck it. I’m just gonna drink some more wine and then make you stand in line for an autograph when I finally get published.
I will say this, though- A life without art is no life, at all. If I can make just one person laugh, or think twice, or even just feel something, every day, then I have contributed something of value to Humanity. I’m not built for a day job. Sorry. It seems to me that you should be proud of that. Or at least feel kinda cool. I mean, what parent really dreams of hatching a mid-level executive at a vacuum factory? I don’t expect you to see my point, but I’m glad I made it.
Hugs forever, Rob
PS: Apologies to any vacuum factory executives who may have taken offense. It’s nothing personal.