Sometimes
I wonder about this whole writing thing. I'm participating in
NaNoWriMo this year and unlike last year, I'm doing well. I have over
30,000 words or 30k as we used to say in the computer biz. I'm
enjoying it and I believe that I have a pretty intriguing story to
tell and that I will be able to find a publisher, or, what is more likely, with more hard
work and or, doing possibly my least favorite thing in the whole
world, “social networking,” (gah!) will be able to do it on the
cheap. I will have done something many people will have not been able
to do, but wish they could do. So, that being the case, why am I so
just, I even hate to say it, but not excited, yet? Will that happen?
Or,
is it because, I still have my heart in a sheet of music or in an
orchestra some where, playing and singing along with all of the great
harmonies that God intended us to give voice to, sounds that are at
once angelic and in the next instance brutally harsh and cold? Were I
still able to drive and not reliant on someone else for
transportation, I believe I would be playing in just about any
orchestra that would have me, especially now, that I have my tremors
under control. Pig-headed and stubborn to a fault I am; I should be
grateful as I had two very successful careers and both were doing
things that I loved. Not everyone can say that.
This apparently ended up in a garage sale or jumble sale, or garbage heap. I couldn't tell. I had my hacker vision on.
I
do love to create and writing is another way of creating. I do not
denigrate the art of writing, because it is so exceedingly difficult
to write beautiful prose and to write it meaningfully. It is hard to
write stories for entertainment and in different genres, as I am
finding out. I am such a newbie, or n00b, as my gamer pals call me at
this, although I did win awards for writing in university, but that
is so very different than this. This is about writing something that
people actually want to read and are willing to pay for, I guess.
Although, people do buy and read some execrable crap, witness the
publication of Paris Hilton's biography, “Paris Hilton: A
Biography,” by someone I never heard of, for 35.00
19.25. I know people must buy it and read it, but who? Maybe
the deeper question is, why? Why would anyone care about this
no-talent mediocrity? Because she's rich? Or is it because her sex
tape ended up on the Internet? How salacious are we as a society that
we pander to this?
Maybe
that's one reason I write. I enjoy holding a mirror up, so we can see
ourselves as we are, not as we think we are. Because there is so much
self-righteousness in this world and so much wrong done, in the name
of right. I really like to write for fun and just write silly
articles about my life. But I, as so many others around me here, have
had to deal with judgments against them that were perceptions based
on personal agendas, preconceived notions of how we all should behave
and just plain meanness against the weak and poor. If there is no one
to stand up for these souls, they are lost. Once they are lost, then,
as the German Protestant Reverend Martin Niemöller, who eventually
emerged as a public spokesman against Adolf Hitler and spent the last
seven years lf the Third Reich in concentration camps, said so
famously, after his release:
“First the came for the Socialists, but I did not speak out—because I was not a Socialist.“Then, they came for the Trade Unionists and I did not speak out—because I was not a Trade Unionist.“Then, they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.“Then, they came for me, and there was no one left to speak for me.
Martin Niemöller, postwar
The
thing about being in among the "writing
crowd” if you will, is I get to have a seat at the table here and
rub elbows with all of you. I may never sell or publish a book or an article, but I'm having a wonderful time and I have all of you to thank for this, my "seat" at the table. For the #ROW80 crew and all of the other people I've been led to and met, I want to thank you all. Because of you, I will finish NaNoWriMo this year. Maybe, next year, I'll be able to say I've published a book! If not, I'll still have had a ball at #ROW80!
