I always wanted to be a writer. I
had a subscription to Writer’s Digest before
my one to Soldier of Fortune. My mother said I used to sleep with an old
typewriter in my crib. Why? No idea. It might have been one of those old wives’
tales. Anyway, I remember using mom’s
typewriter and writing a war story in grade school using my plastic 1/35th
scale military models and friends. My only experience at that time was through
my Sgt. Rock comics and the war
movies I saw on TV. I do remember taping the pages together to form one long
roll. I held it up while I was on the kitchen stool and it fell to the floor,
so probably about 7 or 8 feet long. Also, my mother always said that Samuel
Clements’s dog ran across our dog’s path. Translation; I am distantly related
to Mark Twain. I have always liked to think some of his blood runs through my
veins.
Over the years I have been lucky
to have met and know quite a few professional authors. And some of my long-time friends have also
started to become writers, to the point where they are going to be published either
through self-publishing or through a publishing company. I can’t complain. I have had my shot. Let’s see; I remember writing a very small
article about the Bermuda Triangle; I think I entitled it ’32-year-old Bermuda
Triangle Mystery Continues.’ It was published in the Glasgow Missourian in
December 1977. I have no idea why in the
world they would publish that; I only got my info from books that I had read on
the Triangle. It was on the Flight 19 disappearance. God, the local paper would
publish almost anything at that time-being a weekly newspaper. I guess my being
at Kemper and that I had won the 8th grade science fair with my
display about the Bermuda Triangle; I guess I could have been a ‘local expert’
on the subject. I actually am embarrassed
by that.
Over the years I had two small
booklets of my poetry published. This would have been considered ‘self-published’
at the time and I had approximately 52 poems also ‘published.’ I say it that
way, as I had to buy the anthologies they were published in. It was just a way
to get people to buy overpriced books with their writing in them. At the time I
didn’t realize that.
I even ordered business cards that
said I was a freelance reporter from some kind of independent writing service.
I always wanted to think of them like INS from Kolchak; the Night Stalker. That’s who I always wanted to be.
I was on the yearbook staff as a
photographer and I did have one or two things published in the Kemperite. When I got to Mizzou, I joined
the Campus Town Journal as a features
writer. It was a publication to challenge the Maneater, which was the main campus paper. I remember that this was
before computers, when you still had to do mock ups. It was very much Ernie Souchak
(John Belushi’s character) from Continental
Divide. Two articles I remember writing; one was about heroes. Mine was
John Wayne of course. The other was actually a two page, center spread, on
Dungeons and Dragons. I would have been prouder of that, if they hadn’t screwed
up the columns, making it hard to read.
After that, I believe my next
claim to fame would have to be the d20 module I wrote for D & D; Red or White. I was part of the company
(Guildhouse Games) that put it out. I remember two reviews of it; one loved it
the other not so much.
Then while working for the Missourian I did have a few articles
published in their local writer’s weekend columns. The best, in my opinion, was the Safe House story from GenCon. Now I have a blog, Facebook posts, a short
Shenny story in fanfic, etc. A medium sized fish in a very small pond in my
mind.
I am very happy for my friends
who are writers-the already well established New York best sellers, and the up-and-coming
ones. Just something else that I almost was.
As a writer, the mantra is always
‘write what you know.’ I know a lot, I
think. Maybe. Sort of. The only thing I know is, well was, Kemper. And I have
written things about it. Sometimes the same thing over and over.
I just have to get over whether
it’s good enough. Talk about intimidating when you know men and women who write
professionally about things that they make up in their heads. Me; I’m just
telling what happened at Kemper. Not exactly
The Lord of the Rings, but for those
of us who were there or who lived it, much more real.
You have to forgive my slightly
self-deprecating writing. I went to the dentist yesterday and had 1 cavity
filled and three teeth extracted over a 2-hour period. So have been taking pain
meds; also haven’t been feeling 100%. I always get a summer cold, or just my
allergies acting up about this time of year.
Besides, not too many people will
read this. For me writing is a way to get it out of my system, out of my body,
out of my soul-a catharsis. For me the written word is man’s highest
achievement. More than fire. More than anything; we record our thoughts, events;
we send our words, letters and numbers out into space. Some say I am a good
writer. I think anyone can write something that brings forth emotion and paints
a picture someone can relate to.
I used to write long profiles for
the single sites I was on. I would go into detail, becoming ‘lazer-specific’ on
what kind of man I was and what kind of woman I wanted. And like a lot of woman who accuse men, I don’t
think many read all I had written. Or more likely, my picture scared them off.
Whatever. I tried to explain to someone
that I realize I wasn’t authorized a woman to love; wasn’t in my TO&E. Had to
explain what a TO&E was. They still didn’t get it, but then they weren’t in
the military.
Ok, pain meds kicking in. Out of
here.
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