Tuesday, July 26, 2016

I always wanted to be a writer...

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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