Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Snowball Effect
I remember clearly the first days of that journey almost a decade ago. I volunteered for a layoff from the high tech company I had been cubiclized within for 3 years, and decided on a whim it had to be then or never. I wrote, tentatively at first, plodding circuitously, until a few rough-hewn nuggets fell to the page. Momentum building, furious, frenetic bursts followed. Alabaster pages filled, one by one, with the cumulative trappings of a mind set free. And the more I wrote the more I believed I could write; that I was supposed to be writing. That I was meant to write.
I also beleived the book would be published within the year, and fame and fortune would follow. What a dumbass. But I can live with being a dumbass. What I've struggled with is being a dumbass who no longer writes. That's crippling. Debilitating. A bloody cancer that'll eviscerate you, if you don't take your meds.