Hi all! (Or to my beautiful wife, Allison, who I will bribe to have her read this later so I know spending 10 to 15 "grueling" minutes on today's blog won't be in vain.

The life of an up-and-coming writer can be tough. I spent part of the weekend looking for a new bed and new recliners with my aforementioned beautiful wife. We selected a new bed, which I'm looking forward to sleeping in tonight, and two recliners, which will be used for reading, sitting by our pseudo-fireplace and, most likely, napping. (Again, the life of an up-and-coming writer can be downright tough.) My thought is that the new, comfy bed will help me sleep better, which will result in a clearer, crisper mind for brilliant writing throughout the day. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

Part of the weekend also included attending my stepdaughter's cheerleading camp, and sampling wine. Though this did not occur at the same location, nor at the same time. I'm thinking the camp would have drawn more parents, at least more enthusiastic parents, had the aforementioned wine been served. "Give me a 'G.' Give me an 'L.' Give me an 'A.' Give me an 'S." Give me another 'S.' What's it spell? Glass. Glass. Give me a Glass of wine! Rah! Rah! Goooooo wine!"

Oh, I also did some laundry. See, being an up-and-coming writer is not as glamorous as those Hollywood types make it seem.

Anyway, I'm awaiting some feedback on my first book. From there, I will go over the book once again, while also looking for a publisher. It can be a daunting process, but it's been a mostly fun and interesting one. Here is a sample from Chapter 1 in my book, entitled "It's Not Easy Being An Up-And-Coming Writer." Okay, it's actually called, "Home Run from Heaven."

I've received some help from some friends of mine, like Nathan Summers, a sportswriter who penned his first book a short time ago, and Christi Paul, an awesome lady who is an anchor for Headline News on CNN. She has her own book out. More on that later. Until next time, thank you for your continued support.

Thor, never afraid to explore, comes barreling out of the woods, almost as if he’s being chased by a swarm of bees. Galloping toward me, a huge, goofy grin plastered on his face and a huge branch clenched in his jaws, Thor doesn’t stop until he pounces on top of me, all 87 pounds of him.

“Oomph,” I utter. All the wind gets knocked out me.

Not even two years old, Thor is big for his age. Enormous, actually. His paws are gigantic. I sometimes think we bought a part-horse, part-dog when we got Thor.

“Where were you, big boy?,” I ask.

He looks me square in the eye, tilts his head just a bit and then does this thing with his eyebrows that always cracks me up. One eyebrow goes up and then the other eyebrow goes up. One goes up and then the other goes up. This replays for about ten times. It almost looks like caterpillars dancing on his forehead.

“Did you find anything cool out there? Did you find any prizes?”

Thor does one more eyebrow dance, then bends his head down and gives me a giant lick across my face.

“Thanks, pal. I love you, too.”

Thor has already been through a lot with me. My mom got him for me, my little sister, and my little brother when my dad was sick. Thor was there for me when my dad died. I know he will be by my side for a long time. He can certainly prove to be a handful, but I couldn’t ask for a better or a more loyal best friend.