The idea for Cereal After Sex ignited in March of 2022 during a lovesome stay at a fanciful loft in a small, ruggedly charming town in the middle of Tennessee. The spark had been incubating in my mind for a long time, but those few days in the wilderness of comfort and joy spit gasoline on it.

I’ve always struggled with not knowing what to do with my life, but at the same time I always knew what I wanted to do – write. My dream career just clashed with the reality of daily living for what seemed like forever. I spent year after year working for someone else and lining someone else’s pockets with the means to a greater lifestyle than my own while I was always two paychecks away from being on the streets.

My warmhearted and ever-patient later-in-life wife continually reminds me that it’s not the material things in life that are important. And she’s right. Deep down I know it’s much more than that. It’s about love and family and being kind and selfless in a world that doesn’t always value those things. I suppose my frustration back in those dark days was more about the seemingly pointless struggle one faces when you don’t love what you do with the added bonus of barely affording to survive while doing it. I’m sure I’m not alone on that.

About 13 years ago I worked as a content manager and writer at a newspaper in Missouri. That job paid me more than any other job I had ever had in my life. And yet… One day I found myself walking into my bank to deposit a quarter – that’s right, 25 cents – to keep from bouncing checks. I don’t even remember where I got the quarter. Probably peeled it from the bottom of a sticky cup holder in my Toyota Tacoma.

I frequently felt I was to blame for the struggle. It was all my fault because I couldn’t keep on top of my own life. It was all my fault because I didn’t finish college, I got divorced, and I had partied in the moonglow desert way too much just to deal with everything that was broken in my life. And so on and so on and so on … I tripped all over myself down the road of earthly existence.

But was it really all my fault? Are any of us fully to blame for our inner and outer struggles? Or is the world socially and divinely set up for us to fail and hurt? I don’t know. I suppose it could be a bit of both. I may tackle more on that subject later on.

Let me get my steel wheels back on the rails. I’ve launched Cereal After Sex because I wanted to have a place to display my love for the written word. I wanted to have a place to share my stories and thoughts and at the same time hopefully entertain and engage an audience. I wanted a digital balcony to lend my view of the world from. A view that oftentimes is a bit eccentric, a bit harsh, a bit romantic, a bit weird, a bit sentimental. In other words – human.

I’ve also been struggling with the fact that my real-world career no longer had a need for me and dumped me at a diesel-chocked bus stop in a hot city and drove off. Maybe I’m just in need of some kind of a sense of purpose. Maybe I realize that time is running out and I have to invest in myself rather than let someone else dictate my days.

Finally, my sincere hope is that what I’ve started here grows and develops into something that readers find worthwhile and valuable and fun. I’m eager to see what evolves. I want it to be a place where readers are eager to park their eyes and minds and stay a while. And don’t they always say, “do what you love.” So here I am, wandering around with a pen in my hand and a Tesla coil sparking purple in my head.

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