Time Is Not On My Side

That's right, the clock is ticking. We are only transitory beings who inhabit the earth for a tiny fraction of time before we are gone . . . Poof! . . . Kaput. In the ego of the brain, however, we think we are much more important than just the small impact most of us have on the world, never mind the universe. Still, while we are here, alive and breathing, we seek out ways to give ourselves more earthy status, if you will. We do this by as many different means as there are people to do them. Some of us are great painters, humanists, soul-savers, despots and these are only a few examples of how we put an imprint on what we believe is immorality. Not a few of us believe that we have something to share with the world, and that something is our life story. What crud! How egotistical is that? Since the explosion of the World Wide Web, however, has brought about a sudden increase in those of us who believe they are authors, poets, or men and women of letters. We are aided and abetted in this notion by the influx of Print-On-Demand Internet companies. This phenomena has given the lowest of us the notion that what we scribble down, no matter how inferior it stands up to the truly great writers of the ages, that we mean something. Finally, the common man (and YES!) woman, that our words and our thoughts count.

I am of the opinion that, yes, they do. Do the biggest majority of us who have to go the POD route really have something to say? I maintain that we do. It may be drivel to everyone else, but it is our drivel and I think somewhere in the Constitution of the United States there is an amendment that stipulates just that . . . Well, if there isn't it needs to be. But the sad truth is that for the most of us our writing is only for ourselves and those around us that we shove our books to in order to hear them say what a wonderful talent we have,, whether or not they believe it out not.

Why am I going on and on? Because I lump myself in with all the rest of the frustrated writers who have had visions of fame, fortune and respect of critics and world-wide recognition of our writing abilities and how astute our words really are. Sadly, I have come to the realization that fame, fortune and world-wide respect concerning my art will not come. At least in my lifetime. Actually, I am beginning to come to the conclusion that I should be paying more attention to a world that is set to denote into a full-fledged war. Actually we are in the first phases of the third world war, but too many people have their heads buried in the sand to understand this.

I'm been rambling on about things because I really hate getting to the point. I am having a helluva time getting started on Misdemeanors & Felonies, just like I thought I would. I'm not even sure I know where I want to start,, although I think I may solved that problem yesterday. I do know one thing, I don't want to write it from womb to the present, like a history book. Although I have chucked the idea of writing it in the novel mode, I still want it to be a good read. It'll come. I have not doubt that it will come, it is just hard to get started on the road to there. I kept saying that this was going to be difficult to write, but in the back of my mind I actually didn't think it would be that difficult . . . But it's going to be a mojoker to deal with . . . But deal with it I shall . . . But like this posting's title says, time is not on my side . . . Didn't go to the library yesterday . . . I will today . . .

MY NOVELS:

My Mother's Revenge . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/1132742

Margaret and David: A Love Story . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/1072842

Write To Murder . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/956621