The Story of Our Lives

Inspirational song: The Story in Your Eyes (Moody Blues)

I have to believe that things often do work out for the best. I thought a couple months ago that I was going to have a paying job, but there were some glitches, and now I consider the deal dead. I was just a little upset at first, but I'm finding that I'm not actually angry or even all that disappointed now. I would have been working more hours than I really wanted to, far away from home (too far to get the dogs outside for a midday potty break), and it just seemed logistically awkward for me. Since then, I have finally come up with a direction I want to take to turn these tiny little blog posts into a real full length book, and have had two more people request that I help tell the stories of their lives (that brings the total to three, but one I need to re-engage, because we haven't spoken in months, and I think her story would be wonderful to write).

Now that I have direction and inspiration, I need someone to come here and remove temptation. It's much harder to write when there are flashy lights everywhere I look, from the big rectangle on the wall, and on the little warm pads I hold in my lap and tap for hours. Without television and repetitive games, I could probably be much more productive. It's the writer's curse. I know we all do it. Well, nearly all. There are a handful who actually seem to put thousands of words into print, and still have lives. I want to be one of those. I can pretend that I would announce my progress here, in order to use my readers to hold me accountable. But I know that I would either find excuses or just stop talking about it as I wandered off to other projects, like I do. Or both. Most likely both.

Since I was a middle school kid, I've known that I wanted to be a writer. I allowed self doubt and economic realities to hollow out that dream, but it has always been there waiting for me. I've tried to go back to it more times than I could ever count. I told myself I wanted to write fiction, but it never seems to flow out of me. I never imagined, even as recently as last year, that I would be so excited by the prospect of being a biographer. I might have convinced myself that someday my autobiography would be interesting to someone, if I managed to do something else first to make my life have meaning. I'm discovering that my life already had meaning, and I think I know now how to write it down to show all of you. What's more, the idea that three people have come to me and asked me to tell their own stories is the greatest honor I have ever been given. Think about the level of trust that takes, believing that I could do justice to document their lives. It's exciting beyond belief. I'm ready to go. Let's light this candle.