Why I Came Back to Writing
There was a time when writing was the center of everything I did.
Before code, before film, before the long detours life tends to take, I wrote. I worked as a journalist in the 1990s, and what stayed with me wasn’t the deadlines or the structure—it was the people. I found myself drawn to the stories others carried. The ones they didn’t always tell the same way twice.
Over time, life moved in other directions. Work, family, responsibility. Writing became something I set aside—not because it stopped mattering, but because other things needed to be carried first.
But stories don’t go anywhere.
They wait.
And eventually, if you’ve lived with them long enough, they begin asking to be set down.
Reckoning at Chauncey began that way—not as a project, but as a return.