Being a writer means you’re constantly juggling different demands. You have fictitious worlds and characters almost constantly at play in your head, desperately competing for intellectual bandwidth, and the only way you can placate them is by sacrificing time in the physical world, sitting down and organizing them into coherence with words. And I use the word ‘sacrifice’ intentionally, because the time to do that comes with an opportunity cost.

The Writer:
[the Writer typing on his computer]
Although I hadn’t seen him in more than ten years, I know I’ll miss him forever.
Gordon’s Son:
Dad, can we go now?
The Writer:
You ready?
Gordon’s Son:
Yeah, we’ve been ready for an hour.
The Writer:
[laughs]
Okay, I’ll be right there.
His Friend:
He said that a half hour ago.
Gordon’s Son:
Yeah, my dad’s weird. He gets like that when he’s writing.

Stand By Me (Columbia Pictures, Dir. Rob Reiner, 1986)

Being a Dad means a lot of different things. It’s also about juggling demands. You’re a provider, a teacher, a caregiver, a listener, a mentor, a fan, a protector, a cheerleader, a role model, and sometimes a horsey. And one of the most important things you can do for your kids is spend time with them.

Balancing a hobby like writing with fatherhood is a constant challenge. When your kids are young, you do a lot of writing when the kids are asleep, sometime falling asleep at the keyboard yourself. When they get older, you have a little more time, but it comes with guilt… are they on their tablets or other devices too much? Am I going to get up from the computer one day and find that they’re grown up?

To me, being a Dad also means I think more deeply about the content that I put out into the world. First Command and Fractured Command are written to be accessible to ages twelve and up. I try to keep the content family friendly, and limit the foul language, and ultimately publish stories that have positive messages because I know my children will read them.

A few months ago, I was actually invited to my youngest’s primary school to give a reading of First Command.

The ENTIRE SCHOOL had gathered in the gymnasium to listen to the first chapter.

The book, of course, opens with a problem… Astronaut Cadet Cassiopeia Requin has just completed her first faster-than-light transit, a process that gives her horrible motion sickness. Bubbled up in a space suit, her gut rumbles… she’s going to puke! And to make matters worse, this is a practical examination with flight instructors watching her every move.

I was nervous about reading, but the kids loved it!

So many writers I know worry about what their parents might think about their work. But here’s the thing, parents at least have been around the block. They probably know more about you than you think. But one take home message about being a Dad and writer is that your kids WILL read what you’ve written.

To all the Dads out there and those who step into the role… Happy Father’s Day!