3 posts tagged “inspiration”
Accordion Music for a Coming Apocalypse:
That is what I thought when I saw this image; it may become a title for a short story
(imagination cogs are turning).
(segments of this have been left as comments on the net, appear in my bio, and have flown about on Twitter. It is now posted in it's entirety)
These days, the Internet is filled with easily provoked, neophyte writers. They can be a querulous pack of writing prima-donnas. It seems that entitlement, haughtiness, and self-delusion has become a rampant disease. It affects more than just novice authors: the American Idol auditions are filled with neurosis and self-importance or a students belief in the 'collegiate experience' being the beginning of merited wealth and prestige--are symptomatic examples of this spreading social malady.
I have been writing since early childhood, but last year, I decided to follow my dream of being a full-time writer: I write as my passion and not with anticipation of becoming a best-selling author. I believe you should write for the joy of the art itself, while working towards becoming financially sustainable by virtue of your perseverance. I will infinitely write for myself, and for the people who enjoy reading my words; the act of writing is not concomitant of profitability or popularity, and it will never be conditional. Writing is a significant facet in the lineaments that define me.
The decision to become a full-time writer was sparked by two monumental events in my life: the birth of my daughter, and the death of my father. My daughter--simply put--is pure inspiration; she is my bantam muse. My father died alone. I never knew him and did not know his whereabouts. He was indigent, and a failure--he never did anything with his life--that realism opened my eyes. I decided that instead of making excuses and working string after string of abusive, dead-end jobs; I would actively follow my dreams. The pitiful tragedy of his death became my moment of affirmation.
When I declared to myself that I would become a 'professional writer', it was for the love of the craft; not for any expectant payoff. You do have to be realistic: it is not glamorous; it does not pay well (there are a few recent exceptions in the publishing world), and it requires time, travail, and tenacity. My expectation has always been 7 years before I saw even a mote of recognition. Anything that comes before this time or beyond meager earnings, is a fortunate reward. It is an honor to succeed as an author, a by-product of work and practiced skill: never an inalienable right.
Writing grants me escape; a peaceful place for a weary mind. I prefer to walk the halls of my own imagining rather than the dark alleyways of my past. My absolution is found in writing.
With love,
Schuyler
You may or may not know that Jay Lake--prolific writer and blogger--is currently dealing with cancer. This is the sort of thing that makes you step back and ponder your own life, priorities, passions, and regrets. I consider Jay’s blog an important part of my day; from his professional advice and methodologies, to his raw, candid, and often humorous glimpses into his personal life. I know Jay is driven beyond the average author, and he is passionate about the craft; this has been a constant source of inspiration for me as an author, and I thank him for his freehearted efforts.
I thought about the best way to honor Jay in this time of misfortune, the best way to give both tribute and commiseration, and the answer was patently simple: give the gift of the written word. The following poem is my version of a bouquet of condolatory flowers and a get-well card.
P.S. Jay is reminding people to give a donation to the Clayton Memorial Medical Fund. This is an emergency medical fund for Pacific NW writers having medical-related financial difficulties.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Determined Resilience (for Jay Lake)
A silent hope
Lay quiet in my mind
Is now declared in lines of verse.
May the spell of the dark invader be surmount and broken
So to give us empowered prayers
Showing determined resilience
Grow with time.
He must battle,
Let no force lay siege,
Fly the flags of perseverance.
And determined resilience will lead his victory procession
Letting us learn a finer lesson
That even the darkest hours
Succumb to light.
Of such hope, let me be--
A proselyte, a declarer
A true believer.
That though he may be an assailed soul,
Resilience is his mortar,
And mortal power.
So that death may be rendered only a jealous spectator
Of the fierce and deadly tides
Along life's journey.
I pray he who has many more years to live
He who has spoken of a fathers love, to his daughter
He who through words devising, expands realms fantastic and the arcane universe
Be given safe passage through this tribulation,
And through trials he can never fully understand,
Or prepare for.
Let the torrent subside--a cascade of grim reality--be dispelled
May his need for determined resilience,
Fade into a distant, trace memory
A memory fated to be conquered,
By gifts of smiles, laughter, love, and time.
© 2008, R. Schuyler Devin
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
