My Dream Job (WordPress Daily Prompt)

My Dream Job (WordPress Daily Prompt)
Today’s Daily Prompt: “What is your dream job?”

If you’ve spent any time around here—whether you’re a long‑timer or you just wandered in with a cup of coffee—you already know my dream job: being a writer. Not “wanting to be a writer,” not “dabbling in writing,” but actually being one. Ink‑in‑the‑veins, stories‑in‑the-head, characters‑arguing-with-me-at-3‑a.m. writer.

Of course, kid‑me had a whole buffet of other ambitions. I grew up in the Apollo era, so naturally I wanted to be an astronaut. My dad was a pilot, so I wanted to fly. I devoured military history before most kids learned long division, so I imagined myself as a professional military officer. And at some point, I even threw “firefighter” into the mix, because why not dream big when you’re nine?

Life—and my body—had other plans, but the writing bug didn’t care about any of that. It bit hard when I was about nine or ten, and it never let go. By my teens in Miami, I was writing for student publications, then in my 30s and onward, Amazon, then online review sites,  then blogs. If it had a keyboard and an audience, I was there.

The real dream, though? To be a storyteller people actually read. Someone whose words make readers feel something—joy, nostalgia, heartbreak, recognition, maybe even a little hope. Whether through books like Reunion: A Story, Reunion: Coda, and Comings and Goings – The Art of Being Seen, or through short films like A Simple Ad, Clown 345, or Ronnie and the Pursuit of the Elusive Bliss, I’ve always wanted to create moments that linger.

As I write this in early 2026, I’m still very much on the road toward that dream. I’ve got four books out on Amazon. Three of them I’m genuinely proud of; the first one… well, let’s just say it was my “learning experience,” and leave it at that. They’re all worth a look, though, if you’re curious.

Will I someday make a comfortable living from my writerly exertions? I hope so. It may take time—and a lot more readers discovering my work—but the dream is still alive, still kicking, and still whispering, Keep going.