So my apologies off the hop, this one is a wee bit self serving.

I’m indulging myself with a moment of self congratulations. It took two years but I have finally published my newest book ‘BUBNA A Remarkable Woman’. It’s an historical fiction, a genre which along the way I came to understand is a giant play pen for a writer. I was confined only by the known historical facts but beyond that free to roam, to create characters, to create dialogue, to create a narrative capable of housing any number of different story lines.

In many ways it reminded me of a a jigsaw puzzle. At one point I looked over my writing desk and nearby walls which, four months into my research were covered with post-it notes, with the names of real and made up characters, story ideas, historical notes and sources, scrawled everywhere. My storyboard stretched the length of our extended dining room table. Yes, before you say it, old school, very old school. It was like spreading out all the pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle on the table before you begin. That’s the moment when it occurs to you that it will be a big challenge, but the picture will be beautiful, if you can do it. And what if there’s a piece missing? That is exactly what I thought four months into my work, not one word yet written.

“This could be a great story. Sure hope I’m not missing anything.”

And so you begin …

“The Countess Bubna-Litic walked slowly along the path …”

I’m proud of the novel. I’m proud, not knowing if it is a good novel, or whether it will be well received. I am proud simply because I set off on a significant challenge and if writing a 326 page historical novel is any measure, I succeeded. I learned early on that you write for yourself. That may sound a little self absorbed, but that’s not how I mean it. You write for fulfillment, you write because there is a story to be told. You don’t write for money, unless one counts how much money it takes to publish a book, you write because you are a writer.

It has taken me a long time to call myself a writer, years. I began writing after my retirement, this wonderful blank canvas of time and space gifted to me after my working life was over, just asking to be filled. My daughter Sophie gave me a gift, out of nowhere.

“Dad, I bought you a WordPress blog domain.”

“A what?”

“A blog Dad. You love to talk and write. You can do it here. I bought the domain as well, it’s tonywithacapitalt.ca”

I was like a kid in a candy store and dove right into the deep end, not knowing anything about writing let alone the technology, which would immediately allow me to post stories on the internet and then sit back to see if anyone cared to read them.

Three years later I have posted over 170 blogs and watch on my dashboard as people from well over 80 different countries read my blog posts. I can see trends in story lines or even by country. Right now as I write I am huge in China and Hong Kong. It is at one and the same time hilarious and gratifying. Now don’t get me wrong, when I say “I’m huge in China” I mean I’m tiny in China. I wouldn’t want you thinking my ego is getting ahead of my reality. No, that would never happen.

And it makes the world, at least my world smaller and more connected. Seeing real people from all over the globe read my blog makes me feel connected in a very human way. It is storytelling doing what storytelling has always done. It brings us together. Now, just a few years later I have written two children’s books, a travelogue of my own life (“I’m Dancing As Fast As I Can”) and am now working on a collection of short stories, ‘My Yarn Basket’.

Somewhere along that path, my self perception shifted. When I first began writing my blog, it was a lark, amusing to see my stories in writing, but no more than that. Absorbing as any new interest can be, great fun, but unlikely to sustain me beyong a few months. It has grown, I mean I write a lot, ever day in fact and I am still aware that I write for myself. Now though I have stepped over a threshold, one that I did not predict nor was I ambitious to achieve.

I am building a new website. I have written enough to create a content rich online portal, house my blog which is free to any visitors and be a place to sell my books. My web developer asked me a question in one of our earliest meetings.

“Tony, do you want an author’s website or is this just for fun?”

I was quick to reply.

“Oh no! This is just my writing. I don”t take myelf seriously at all, it’s just for fun.”

But the question had done its job. It had been asked at the perfect moment in my path, catching me as I was inwardly asking where I was going with all this. And my initial answer was wrong.

“Hi, uhhh listen you asked me a couple of days ago what kind of site I wanted.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, I want an author’s website.”

And across the Rubicon I waded.

All my life I have had a very crisp, clear answer when I was asked what I did.

“I’m a lawyer. A criminal defence lawyer.”

“I’m a broadcaster, a radio morning show co-host.”

Even in self deprecating moments, I was crisp and clear.

“I’m a bloviating blowhard.”

And now, “I’m a writer.” It is what I do. That is not saying I am a good writer, it’s not coopting a title I haven’t earned, it is just what I do. I am a storyteller and my medium of choice is the written word and while I live with the reality of a shorter and shorter runway, I will write for as long as I am capable, unassisted by artificial intelligence; well, for as long as AI is unable to mimic my writing at least.

Wait a minute that gives me a month. Hmm? Gonna be a busy month.

My new website will have the same url – tonywithacapitalt.ca

When it is launched you will simply find yourself on my new platform, loaded to the hilt with my writing. There will be no need to adjust your screen. Don’t worry I’ll let you know, but then again you knew that.

And my apologies once again for this self serving pile of ‘no one cares Tony’. I’d promise not to subject you to that again. But I can’t – keep that promise.

Oh! and ‘BUBNA A Remarkable Woman’ is available on Amazon, just in case … you wanted to know.