When I was four, I overhear a word my parents said that would change my life:
“What’s an entrepreneur?” I said (remember I was four).
“It’s someone who starts a business.”
“That’s what I want to do. I want to be an entrepreneur,” I said.
Really. I’m not making that up. At four years old, I found my life calling.
When I was seven, I would sit on the floor of my room with a piece of paper.
“What are you doing, Joey?” My mom asked. Yes, I was Joey then.
“I’m inventing things,” I told her. “All the other kids are inventing inventions and I’m so far behind.”
It would take me another twenty years to actually accomplish that goal. It started in July 2011 with a little blog called The Write Practice. I wanted to teach people to become better writers while learning how to become a better writer myself.
When I found out Talia was pregnant with Marston, I panicked. How the hell am I going to pay for a baby? I thought about college tuition, first car payments, braces. I know you’re supposed to be happy when you find out your wife is pregnant, and I was. But mostly I was stressed.
Over the next three months or so I wrote a new book, published it, and made my first $10,000 on my business, most of which we used to pay the hospital bill to bring our son home.
Now, The Write Practice is my full-time job, and it provides enough income for our whole family, plus a few part-time employees.
I probably feel proudest of this. Yes, I wrote a book and married the right woman and became a father. I’m really proud of those things, but I can’t take all the credit for those things, or even half the credit, if I’m being honest.
I can’t really take all the credit for my business either. I got lucky and had a few big breaks that I can’t take credit for.
But inside, that little four year old kid is jumping up and down: I’m an entrepreneur, and I have my 20s to thank for it.
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