6-11-13

Got 4 pages written today on the non fiction side.  That is pretty good considering my recent pace of 0 pages per day. 

I am saving the fiction work for after the non fiction book rough draft is done.  With the non-fiction thing at 120 pages, it is probably 3/4 written.  Might even be editable into something worth reading. 

No surprise that the non fiction book is about our travels.  It's not like I am teasing anything here.  I think it will be pretty good.  Even if it doesn't sell, it will serve as a history for the kids.  A worthwhile project for sure. 

Now the fiction thing...that is kind of a secret. 

We will see if it lives.


What I was pondering tonight was this: What happened to those 10-15 page days?  Man, I used to feel so creative and enthusiastic about writing anything.  I loved it.  I was writing short stories for AFO and my own stories and going to school.  It was great.

Of course, I didn't have a job, Sarah was supporting me while I went to school.  And I didn't have kids. 

Well, I guess that answers that.  Still.  I have creative moments, they just don't often happen yet while I am sitting at the computer writing.  Instead they happen when there is little hope of getting them down.  Writing now is dragging prose, screaming and protesting from the dark corners of my brain.  I hope practice will make it better. 

A road trip tomorrow, so not much writing, but I will get something down. 

I have to, I promised me.

The Mountain

I picture writing in my head.  Throngs of people stand, milling about the base of a large cliff.  We are multitude wandering about, our shuffling feet stirring up large clouds of dust.  Each of us focused on the top.  Some steal glances and pretend to be checking the clouds, some stand back and measure with their thumbs and some just sit in meditation and unabashedly stare.  Most of us are in some stage of preparation for the climb.  We find gear, coil ropes and practice with our tools. 

Every once in a while, someone sets off.   Most take established routes with some sort of gear and even some training.  Occasionally some lunatic comes in screaming and just starts to climb with nothing but determination and fervor holding them fast to the sheer face of the crumbling rock. 

Almost everyone falls off.

Well, pretty much everyone falls off once or twice.  Some scream all the way down. Most are silent as they fall.  The graceful swan dives are fun to watch. The end result is the same, they crash to earth with a flat thud.  I am encouraged by their resilience.  They rise to try again.  Mostly.  Some leave smoking craters and are never heard from again.  Honestly though, unless you are looking right at them, you never see the climbs or the falls.  When you decide to go, with whatever preparation you find suitable, the mountain will challenge you in ways you can't imagine.  You will work, strive, fail, fall and return to keep climbing.  Every step you will somehow convince yourself that you have something special, a story or an idea so special it will propel you to the top of the mountain.  And one day, if you just keep climbing, keep working and never give up, you will come to that last lip and pull yourself over.  Where you will find yourself surrounded by a bunch of people milling about looking for mountains.  Turns out, a lot of people climbed this mountain.  Some had jacket made with little patches for each summit.  They have clubs and parties and what not.  A small amount get paid to climb, but I think most do it for fun, or for the challenge. 

I need to get climbing.  And after this post I also realize I need to work on my editing, it went on too long. 

Good to be writing something again though.