At a recent writer’s workshop a game was played whereby each of us had to give 3 statements about ourselves, one of which was a lie. The others would listen and then guess which one was false. My 3? —I was in jail with Dr. Benjamin Spock; I lived in a commune in the Mountains of Oregon, and thirdly, I rode ex-racehorses in San Jose California. What was interesting is that, without my realizing it, all 3 took place within a year of each other.
None of those 3 are significant events in themselves, but speak to the variety of experiences in my past. A year beyond these events I had the most amazing encounter in my life, when I forged a relationship with the Creator of life. Nothing has ever been the same…
Fifty years later, having married way over my head, having helped to raise a couple of boys, having put to bed a career in management, and having survived a battle with serious illness, a dream from my youth came back to me: to write the “Great American Novel.” My late older sister Diane, who also loved to write, would often banter with me about who would write that Great American Novel first. I always knew that she had it in her; she just never got the chance to unveil it. My hope is that I have the time and initiative to draw it out of my soul.
I love to try and express my feelings in words, to create a flow with purpose, not unlike the river making its way to the ocean. My hope is that in this space I can set down some ideas, and share some pieces of my novel as they come to life.
By the way - the lie? Well Spock was great, and Commune life was amazing. The horse…the truth is there was only one. But he (Red) gave me the scariest ride of my life…
댓글