the book that wasn’t

I often enjoy working on a book that I’ve actually been working on since 1996. I have written and deleted a thousand pages, still not satisfied with what’s been put to paper. It is a glorious story, and that’s the truth. Perhaps that is where the problem lies. Some things are so amazing that only your heart can capture their true meaning. That isn’t to brag. I’m simply saying that, from the longing of my own heart came a story that is so perfect to me that I cannot allow it to be undermined or limited, in any way.

The story was conceived of during long nights when one boy, or the other, couldn’t sleep or was under the weather. I’d sit in the old rocking chair that was between their beds and, long into the night, I’d spin this tale. The boys loved the story so much that they told a couple of friends. Of their friends, two have named children after characters in the story. That was more flattering than I can put to words. After that, my story was told to the lil ones who bore the names of my characters and, I’m sure, it will be told to their children, one day. So, you see, that’s why I can’t seem to get a grip on writing this amazing tale. Anything less than perfection…one word out of place…would do such a disservice to the characters that I love so much that others have come to love them, as well. And, I suppose, that there is a comfort level associated with knowing my story will carry on, even if I were never to write a single word. I think it might be my one of the biggest blessings in my life…just knowing that.

In spite of all of that, I still feel compelled to write the story. It’s as though the characters are already living and want their story told. I know it sounds silly. I’m going to try to devote an hour a day to writing my book, and not deleting the whole bit when I’m finished. It’s times like these that I wish I’d had some formal training…definitely college. My life didn’t work out that way, so I’ll play the hand I was dealt and see what comes of it.

I was thinking about taking some online classes. I’ve always wanted a degree in Criminal Justice. Or, if I can lose weight, I’d actually love to go to welding school. The oilfield is already loosening up a bit with Trump’s nomination, and I expect things to take off, the way they should, if he’s elected. It would be fun to work with Bennie’s old crew. If I only worked turnarounds, I’d have lots of down time between jobs. Anyway…who knows? I might just stick to the plan and find a brain-free job. I’d really love to open a tattoo parlor that only hosts visiting artists. I’m not sure that this is the right area for it. I really need to get back into the scene and find out what I can find out.

Well, I’m gonna go have a protein shake. Go me!

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