I almost did not publish.

I remember growing up in Alaska, taking early morning walks with my father around 4:30 a.m. — our way of spending time together before he started work at the command post on Elmendorf Air Force Base. My favorite memories were in the winter months. I’ve always loved the cold, the snow, the quiet glow of a campfire, and the way you can see your breath when you speak into the night air. That feeling has always meant home to me — a kind of nostalgia that never fades.

During those walks, my dad would share scripture with me and ask what I thought it meant. He spoke about manners, about opening doors for women — my mom and sisters — and about setting an example for my brother. I was only three when those walks began, but I remember describing them to my mom, who helped me write the words down. I still have one of those journals.
To me, it’s a threefold treasure — first, a life once lived; second, a memory relived within its pages; and lastly, the promise that I’ll continue that tradition one day.

When my dad returned home from work, we’d gather after dinner to read together — first scripture, then something we all enjoyed. He kept a collection of G.A. Henty novels, and from his voice I learned to love the rhythm of words. Those stories — of battles, war, betrayal — read in the old English tongue, awakened something in me.

While growing up near the Raleigh, North Carolina area, at the age of eight, I wrote my first book — a nine-page tale about Scottish men defending their homeland against impossible odds. My parents did what any good parents would do — they encouraged me to continue writing. Sadly, that nine-page historical fiction novel was lost to time, but of two things, it will never be published, and every word was misspelled in the most epic way possible.

Fast forward to August 2025: I compile a manuscript, begin the editing process, and hire a copy editor and typographer through my own publishing company. I look at my work and wonder — should I really put this out there? I like it, but is it world ready?

Sometimes, the doors we don’t open close off opportunities that might have shaped our future. Pursuit of excellence doesn’t live only in the halls of academia or the confines of a nine-to-five — it exists in everything our name is tied to.

This first book — one of many in production — was built with passion and conveyed in the most raw and reverent way I know how.

I almost did not publish.
What is it that you almost did not publish?

Sometimes, the things we put off become the very core of who we are meant to become.

The photo above: the day I became a U.S. Navy Diver.
I asked my father, James IV, Retired Master Sergeant, USAF, to pin my Dive insignia on my chest.