Yes, I call them artists. They paint pictures with words. Look at Townsend, Lennon, Jagger / Richards … all of them, great artists. Kurt Cobain, another one … tortured artist, wanting to be heard, but not idolized … wanted to express himself, but did not set out to speak for a generation. He did. Did any of them want to have their words pored over like so many grains of gold in a pan of detritus?
I was inspired to write this poem, both as a way to express feelings, but also to paint pictures with words. A bus trip into the office, another mundane day of politics and BS, and this is what I came up with (entitled Monuments):
Bleak, winding roads lay before me,
No one in sight as I hug each bend on this journey.
I exist, I don't live, yet I have the one thing only I can lose, hope.
Nothing about this daily subsistence is life-affirming.
I go through the motions without emotion.
I strain even as I am constrained by my self-created prison, walls.
The dragon dares me to dance, but I demur.
I stand ready, but for what? For whom?
How I will get there is for greater minds than my own, self.
I'm only the docent on this tour I've chosen.
Standing perfectly erect, yet imperfect as I am.
I hear words murmured all around, still I walk purposefully, away.
I posted this on a literary forum site, but only got a few comments, all positive for the most part. Unfortunately, that particular forum serves those ten years old and older and I realize that it wasn't the best place to showcase my fledgling attempt at verse. There will be other places.
This week was fairly productive, thanks to the extra day off on the 15th. I finished the first draft of "Animal Control," SS#4. It turned out to be twice as long as my typical short stories (23 pages), but at first blush, I don't think I can shorten it. The goal is to finish the second draft this weekend (in spite of the two championship football games on Sunday).
I also wrote about six or so scenes in the second act of "A Perfect Tenant," SP#2. I'm pleased with the way it's unfolding right now. I would like to complete the second act this weekend, but it may be pushing it.
I've been good about keeping my three regular blogs up to date. I also added a new post to my Eleuthera Journal (http://eleu2.blogspot.com) blog, the first one in a few months. It's so difficult to read my own handwriting as I'm transcribing my words from 2004. Admittedly, I have to guess when filling in some of the indecipherable ones.
Another blog chronicles my attempt to lose weight - 55 pounds - by August 1st. That's pretty straightforward, though I do give more information than the number of pounds I lost since the previous week.
I really haven't started my book review blog except for posting the introductory text. I've completed two books I want to review, but I just haven't taken the time to write notes before doing the reviews.
No query letters written yet … admittedly, I'm a little intimidated. I'm not necessarily concerned about being rejected (I expect to be, many times). I just want to make a good first impression and do everything right. Obviously, once I do one, the others will come easier. It's on my list for this weekend.
I'm meeting some very nice people on MySpace, published authors who are very willing to extend words of encouragement or advice to a new writer like me. I would love to be able to meet with some of these people in person a couple of times a month, just to exchange ideas or share experiences - sort of an Algonquin Roundtable West, perhaps. Alas, I doubt it could ever be so. Knowing LA, if such a thing were formed, it would be overridden by star authors, Hollywood wannabes, and generally turn into a pretentious freak show.
I'm really a positive guy, really. Living in this town for over twenty years has made me a WEE bit cynical :-)
And so, I conclude this week's post and sign off as Garrison Keillor does in his daily The Writer's Almanac recordings on NPR: "Be well, do good work and keep in touch."
Michael
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