What The Forbes? An Introduction

Last updated on 09/09/2019

Hi, my name is W. Tanner Forbes. This is my blog

Generally, I do not like to state the obvious, but I felt at least for this first post it was important that at the very least I introduce myself. I am an author. That is a term I sometimes feel I have to stretch to have accommodate me personally, but hey, we all have to compromise with ourselves somewhere. For me, having a first novel finished, drafted, and pitched is the starting line of that author race. And I have just taken my place at that line.

Throughout my life I took many different turns before ending up here. I wanted to make video games (doing that much math every day would actually kill me, and I have trouble drawing stick people so that didn’t work out). I wanted to make movies. I wanted to do all sorts of things before I embraced what I really wanted to do.

I have never been the type to pick a realistic goal. Always I picked the fields that were too competitive. Too hard to get into. Too much work to stay in. I pushed for the farthest I could go, yet always staying in the safety net of possibility. Never trying what scared me.

Throughout my school years I was always praised for my writing (Crazy that I would want to get into an industry where people will tear it apart), I even won a certificate that looks great in a storage box somewhere. Yet as I exited High School, I did not embrace that unpolished skill. Instead I started going to college with no clear goal in mind.

As you might expect, I quickly got lost. I was working three jobs. I got no fulfillment out of any of them. I was more concerned with making enough money to survive than doing something I enjoyed. I did poorly in school, I was unmotivated and had very little drive. That is when I got a message from an old friend from High School. They had a job they loved. They wanted me to be a part of it. They invited me to meet their boss.

That is the story of how I went to a two-hour meeting for a pyramid scheme. Now, if you have never had to sit and stew in the betrayal that is being roped into a pyramid scheme meeting let me paint you a picture. Your friend (if they could be referred to as such after condemning you to the hell) sits quietly to the side of whatever beverage shop they have chosen to host the meeting, while some stranger shows you lots of charts that try very hard not to be triangles.

Rather than taking the opportunity to say mean things to a schemer (and trust me, the temptation was strong) I found myself instead in a moment of self-reflection. How desperate was I? I had never been the type to blindly go into something. I had not even asked for more details about the job or company. At the first chance to find a place that people loved to work, that they got fulfillment out of, I jumped at that chance. Only to be encouraged to sell multiple boxes of deodorant to my grandparents (because that’s good business).

After my two hours was done, and I nicely hit them with the old “I’ll call you”, I started the thirty-minute drive home. Again, I found myself reflecting. I still remember the exit signs I was passing when I asked myself the question “What do I really, truly, want to do with my life? What brings my joy?” I remember the fast food places I was passing when I realized I had always wanted to be an author. Why had I never pursued it? Why had I ignored the voice in me that was always whispering about stories? Because I did not think it was realistic. I thought, even though I had once been the kid who wanted to be a soccer player, or a game designer, then a director, I thought that being an author was unrealistic. Because it scared me. Because the stories I had in me were mine. I liked them. Sharing them would be too hard.

I found myself taking an exit far from the one I needed to take to get home. I ended up at my father’s house. My father has never been one to steer me wrong. Rarely have I ever made a decision without seeking his advice. I might not always agree with it, but it always helped me make the right choice. It was always empowering.

When I arrived, I asked my father a question I could not believe I had never asked him. I asked what his dream job had been when he was younger. My father is in the top of his field. He is great at his job, revered by his peers, and I strive to model his work ethic and humility at every chance I get. He loves his career. He gets fulfillment from it. So, I had always assumed it was what he had always wanted to do, the only thing he had wanted to do.

“I always wanted to write.” The words bounced around my head; I could not process what he had said. “But it wasn’t a realistic goal.” That floored me. The same dream had been in both of us. We had both thought the same thing. What the Forbes were we thinking? That it was not realistic. My father had gotten lucky. He had found a second passion. Yet I had not been so lucky. I told him that day, before anyone else, what I planned to do. I would write. I abandoned back up plans. Sure, I would work and advance and grow, but every big move I would make going forward would be in service of the goal of being an author.

Was it that easy to get to the point I am at now, four years later? No. Not even a little. Lessons were learned, ways of doing things changed. I had to grow as a person to get to a place where I feel I can stretch the definition of author enough to include myself in it. However, getting to the starting line of that race was an experience that I feel represents the biggest turning point in my life.

That friend that tried to rope me into that mess did me a favor in the end. Thank god for triangles.

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