This has been a very strange week. A rash of lay offs at work has made the energy a bit strange. I’m standing secure, on dry land, while a few of my colleagues set sail for new adventures – thanks to a pink slip. I’ve only worked at my current day job a year and a half; yet, saying goodbye to people whom I’ve only known a short time has affected me more than I thought. I’m used to changes and moving on. I’ve said goodbye to so many people in my life that I’ve grown detached at the thought of goodbyes. Besides, the entertainment industry is a small one. We’ll all meet again.
This week has also been slightly stressful (in a good way) on a personal level. My book of short stories entitled Hitting the Water is finally developing as an actual, tangible book! As I pull together the final editorial touches before sending it off to my editor, I’m feeling drawn and quartered by all the work that goes into the self publishing empire I plan to create in order to rule the world!
Kidding. I plan on publishing my work so I can express the human condition, perhaps inspire others to lend a voice to the human race by encouraging them to self publish their work as well – or to even make them pursue their own destiny. So many of us have families and lives to support, that we tend to get lost in the day to day work grind. Some people are lucky – their forty hour a week job is a daily pleasure. For most of us, we end up losing sight of our dreams in the name of the dollar. We tend to banish our talents and aspirations as a fruitless journey, impractical, something to do when we retire. So, we end up going through life in a hamster wheel routine until one day we look at ourselves and do a David Byrne:
“Well? How did I get here?”
Four years ago, I saw my parents live out the rest of their days in a nursing home. During my lifetime – the chapter in their lives when I came into picture – they seemed to live unconsciously, waking up from time to time to live out their passions in music and travel, but only to fall back asleep into the day to day comfort zone. They were wrapped up in survival, keeping a roof over our heads, food on the table, and giving me a better life than they had as children. For that, I’m forever grateful. It’s in their death, that I see a life I need to honor. They gave me the world, yet throughout my adulthood, I took life for granted – living unconsciously in the name of a pay check and health insurance. I never found a husband, and never had children — so I am free to live, to honor life, to understand death, and in some way — to live fearlessly. In doing that – I’m thanking my parents for everything.
After so many years of dreaming of writing a book – I finally doing it. I’m writing. Seriously. Everyday – like it’s a job – because it is – or at least – will be officially soon. At the start of 2014, I challenged myself to write at least 1000 words everyday. As each successful (and not so successful) day turned into one story after another – ideas flowed forth like a river. It was awesome. Not only did I have a deep long list of short stories and essays – I also laid a ground work of projects to come. It’s profoundly gratifying. Something I never feel when I answer a phone or take a message for the boss. I’m still writing everyday, planning ideas, laying down outlines for books – and – touching up Hitting the Water. The writing is ongoing.
Hitting the Water is a nice, short read. The stories touch upon mental confusion, absence and loss. Perhaps there’s a bit of life affirmation within the sentences. I’m hoping people will find it touching. As I select my cover photo (which you partially see in the featured image to this post), have the interior formatted, have the marketing elements in place, get the copyright and all the legalities done – I’m lost in words, ideas, thoughts and generally just – freaking out.
I’m freaking out that I’m actually creating something. It’s the first step toward a new journey.
And on this Friday of a week where the axe has fallen at work – I could use a nice, stiff martini.