Looks like Santa's reindeer have been upgraded this year. No updates this week due to Christmas spirit.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
An Unfulfilled Promise
I am way behind schedule. Back when I was a kid I thought that by the time I was as old as I am now I'd be a published author. Oh how I've let the little guy down.
This trip down memory lane makes me ponder the reason of why I actually write.
The year was 1993 and I was in elementary school. To say that I did not enjoy school would be an understatement. I wanted out, and I was desperate to find some way, any way, to quit school. Little me hatched what he thought was an ingenious scheme. For whenever he balked about going to school and asked the grown ups why they almost inevitably responded that I would need school to get a job.
"Why do I need a job?" I would ask.
"To make money."
Money, I found out at an early age, was the be all and end all of life. If I had it I could do anything, without it I had to play by the world's rules.
My dad had told me about this kid who collected stamps. He got so good at buying and selling them that left school. He was rich and got driven around by a chauffeur all day, he never even got his licence.
So my brilliant plan was to find something that I could do that would make me money. Just like the stamp kid. Little did I know (oh how ominous those words are) the path that this plan would set me upon.
How was I a mere grade school kid supposed to make money. I wasn't even old enough for a paper route. The answer came to me rather quickly. I would write. It was something that I already liked to do so I figured I could use it to get out of school. It all seemed so simple. But I had to make sure that my parents would let me quit school once I made my millions. Parents can be obnoxious about things like this. "Sorry son we don't care if you can afford to buy yourself a small island your still going to attend school."
And so I made them sign this:
They signed it. A sort of promissory note. Oh I had them now.
Or so I thought.
It was my promise that never got fulfilled. A promise I made to myself to get out of school.
Sometimes I wonder if I write because I really want to or if I have just hardwired it into myself because of my desperate need to escape school. Even now that I'm out of school that need to write is still there. I can't help but wonder if it's genuine.
But then I remember that I did indeed write a book. Way back before the promissory note. Back before I knew how to write. It was an illustrated story about a presidential election between Fire and Water. I still have it somewhere, I'll have to dig it up one day. Remembering it makes me think that maybe I really am a born storyteller. I mean if I was telling stories before I knew words that should count for something right?
At any rate both these events get to the heart of the question of why I write. They aren't the whole answer. I don't know if I can put the whole answer into words. It is something that is felt and thought and spoken. But this is part of it.
This trip down memory lane makes me ponder the reason of why I actually write.
The year was 1993 and I was in elementary school. To say that I did not enjoy school would be an understatement. I wanted out, and I was desperate to find some way, any way, to quit school. Little me hatched what he thought was an ingenious scheme. For whenever he balked about going to school and asked the grown ups why they almost inevitably responded that I would need school to get a job.
"Why do I need a job?" I would ask.
"To make money."
Money, I found out at an early age, was the be all and end all of life. If I had it I could do anything, without it I had to play by the world's rules.
My dad had told me about this kid who collected stamps. He got so good at buying and selling them that left school. He was rich and got driven around by a chauffeur all day, he never even got his licence.
So my brilliant plan was to find something that I could do that would make me money. Just like the stamp kid. Little did I know (oh how ominous those words are) the path that this plan would set me upon.
How was I a mere grade school kid supposed to make money. I wasn't even old enough for a paper route. The answer came to me rather quickly. I would write. It was something that I already liked to do so I figured I could use it to get out of school. It all seemed so simple. But I had to make sure that my parents would let me quit school once I made my millions. Parents can be obnoxious about things like this. "Sorry son we don't care if you can afford to buy yourself a small island your still going to attend school."
And so I made them sign this:
They signed it. A sort of promissory note. Oh I had them now.Or so I thought.
It was my promise that never got fulfilled. A promise I made to myself to get out of school.
Sometimes I wonder if I write because I really want to or if I have just hardwired it into myself because of my desperate need to escape school. Even now that I'm out of school that need to write is still there. I can't help but wonder if it's genuine.
But then I remember that I did indeed write a book. Way back before the promissory note. Back before I knew how to write. It was an illustrated story about a presidential election between Fire and Water. I still have it somewhere, I'll have to dig it up one day. Remembering it makes me think that maybe I really am a born storyteller. I mean if I was telling stories before I knew words that should count for something right?
At any rate both these events get to the heart of the question of why I write. They aren't the whole answer. I don't know if I can put the whole answer into words. It is something that is felt and thought and spoken. But this is part of it.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Progress Report
So to explain about my Progress report
Pages Transcribed is the amount of pages I've transferred from my hand written text onto the Computer.
Pages On Word refers to the grand total page number on my Word file. I have from time to time made some effort to get my story onto the computer. I took all these files and dumped them into one document. Also on this document are the pages that I've transcribed.
And just to give you a visual of the work cut out for me.
The stack on the left is what I've transferred into the computer. The Stack on the right is what I have left. And making it's second appearance on this blog, the the lovely flower print couch.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
An Update
So first off shame on me for not posting something sooner.
Second off I think I'm going to start posting over on the side there, a notice on how many pages I have gotten onto the computer. I'm trying to get my story which is spread over heaps of handwritten pages onto a word program. I got about twenty pages so far using my handy Dragon software.
So that's about all for now. I plan to update my page count every Monday. Hopefully this deadline will help me stay on track. If I don't make any progress then feel free to virtually kick me.
Second off I think I'm going to start posting over on the side there, a notice on how many pages I have gotten onto the computer. I'm trying to get my story which is spread over heaps of handwritten pages onto a word program. I got about twenty pages so far using my handy Dragon software.
So that's about all for now. I plan to update my page count every Monday. Hopefully this deadline will help me stay on track. If I don't make any progress then feel free to virtually kick me.
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