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Who am I?
The other day I asked myself that same question. I’m Ken Musante, a 20-something living in downtown Manhattan. I came to this great city to seek my fortune. I’m from Stevens Point, a medium-sized town in Central Wisconsin; home of Point Beer and UWSP, my alma mater.
Hold out your left hand palm up. Say it’s a map of Wisconsin. Then point to the spot right in the middle. That’s Stevens Point. Madison is straight south in the meaty part of your hand, and Green Bay, home of the Packers, is up by your pinky finger.
Why New York?
In my opinion it’s the biggest and baddest city on the planet. There’s always something going on. For me it’s a symbol of America. There’s success and failure here. Everything moves so fast, if you take the time to say “New York minute,” time passed you by two minutes ago. You have to fight for the American dream, or it’s not worth getting.
I’m not a fighter or a fast mover. I’m not a big success or a big failure. That’s why I’ve come here. God doesn’t want lazy bones; he will make me better, faster, stronger. What better forge than the fires of New York City?
What do I do?
I’m a writer. I write fiction as well as articles and this blog.
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