A Tale of Two Writers….
I have a dirty little secret that I’m sharing with all of you. Please don’t tell everyone. It’s that important.
You see, I’ve decided to come clean on a few things about being a writer. And, for those of you who seek the deeper sides of such things, let me spare you the drama. It’s about being me, too.
In earlier entries, I’ve alluded to the whole roller coaster analogy of my life. Good days, bad days. Creative bursts, vacant thoughts. Happy, sad. Social, recluse. Well, the ride is just as wild for the writer within. I can focus intensely on a spiritual piece about rebirth in the morning, and then go to work on some edits needed for the gruesome murder scene for a novel.
In the writer’s world, we’re not supposed to do that.
For hundreds of years, the literary societies have boxed authors into one style of writing, for one specific audience. Anything that strays from the norm will be damned, left on the editor’s floor not worthy of a recycling bin. We become slaves to our readers, critics of our abilities to put one through the hoops — all net, no less — every single time. Touch the rim or, God forbid, use the backboard, and you’re out. I see it all the time.
So here we go, folks. Welcome to everything that goes against what those literary societies have been dictating all these years. It’s time to leave them scattered about on my editor’s floor (but my conscience is eating at me about the whole recycling thing…Let me introduce you to Mr. Shredder…).
Welcome to A Tale of Two Writers.
What follows is a Casting of My Fate to the Wind, a sharing of my journey to publish all of it–the spiritual, the psychological thriller, the philosophic, the rhetoric, the memoir, the fairy tale.
Hugh Prather, author of the historic Notes To Myself (published first in 1970), somehow reached thirty years into the future to capture my sentiment, right now, right here. Thanks, Hugh. You make this journey so much easier, giving me the strength and courage to believe in myself for who I am, and not for who others want me to become.
As I look back on my life, one of the most constant and powerful things I have experienced within myself is the desire to be more than I am at the moment — An unwillingness to let myself remain where I am — A desire to increase the boundaries of myself — A desire to do more, learn more, express more — A desire to grow, improve, accomplish, expand. I used to interpret this inner push as meaning that there was some one thing out there I wanted to do or be or have. And I have spent too much of my life trying to find it. But now I know this energy within me is seeking more than THE mate or THE profession or THE religion, more even than pleasure or power or meaning. It is seeking out more of me; or better, it is, thank God, flushing out more of me.
Join me. Let’s have some fun.