Tuesday, May 28, 2013

I Did NOT Write this (but I DID just read and "steal it")!!!

 
 
This is NOT Stephen King at the Harvard Book Store. (Photo credit: not Wikipedia)
 
 
Stephen King's book ON WRITING is probably the best book ever written on the subject (says Scott)
 
 
 
 


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Tag Archives: Tennessee Williams



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“It’s What I Do . . . “

 
 
 
Stephen King at the Harvard Book Store.
Stephen King at the Harvard Book Store. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
 
 
Why do I write, late at night, when sleeping would be wiser?
 
 
Why am I writing now, when I could be outside?
 
 
I will let a writer who possessed far greater ability than me answer that question. This, from Tennessee Williams:
 
 
“I wrote because I had to. There wasn’t anything else I could do. If no one ever bought anything, anything I ever did, I’d still be writing. It’s beyond a compulsion."
 
 
Is it true for me that there isn’t anything else I can do?
 
 
No.
 
 
I have successfully done many other things in my lifetime, and have been paid well for it. But, I’ve always been a writer, for better or for worse.
 
 
I can recall that, in my early years, (perhaps 11-12 years old), trying to come up with jokes to send to Reader’s Digest. And, around that same age, I took it upon myself to write a book about the lost city of Atlantis.
 
 
I couldn’t have filled a thimble with what I knew of that mystical, storied place, but that was irrelevant to me; I was going to write the definitive work – for all time.
 
 
I went to the public library and checked out every book that existed about this mythical, (maybe), city. Being somewhat naive, I was going to combine all of these works to form my “own” work, (which would have been plagiarism, an idea that I wasn’t familiar with at the time).
 
 
I began on sheets of lined paper, elementary school, double spaced lines at that, printing as neatly as possible. Well, a page or three into it, it proved to a lot harder than I thought it was going to be, and I dropped the idea as being impractical – but the desire to create through the written word remained.
In High School, I wrote for the school paper.
 
 
I was the sports reporter, which is ironic since I wasn’t remotely athletic at the time, and didn’t care anything about High School sports. Much is made of High School sports, then and now, so I figured I would at least get to hang with the cool kids and, maybe, by my association, get a date with a pretty girl. That didn’t work out, but I did well as a journalist. The athletes were more than willing to talk about themselves, so all I had to do was ask a question or two and let them go on-and-on.
 
 
In later years, in one of my MANY career incarnations, I worked in the music industry for what was then a major, independent record company.
 
 
I asked for, and received, the title and job of Director of Marketing and Public Relations.
 
 
Impressive, huh?
 
 
Well, I had been in sales for a time, selling everything from light bulbs, to business consulting services, to insurance, but didn’t know squat about PR. So, I hit the books again – bought computer programs, contact management software, and even taught myself graphic design. I determined to write press kits for all of the active artists, (which is an art in itself, because I didn’t always like the artists or the music that I was being paid to espouse). From this, an opportunity to write an article about one of our artists for a major music publication arose, and I said, “sure, no problem.”
 
 
No problem? Talk about ballsy! When I hung up the phone after committing to the editor, I was hit with a wave of nausea: “What just happened?”
 
 
I had never written an article in my life, and we were talking 2,000 words, here! That seemed like an inconceivably large amount of words at the time, but I did it – almost exactly 2,000 words – and it was published. Just like that, I was a published author.
 
 
I went on to write several other articles for different music publications, even being quoted in the hallowed columns of  Billboard Magazine. After five years, I left the music industry, and then my writing turned to personal journals. This is where the most powerful writing that has ever flowed from me found its home.
 
 
From these journals, and many encounters with Divine guidance, came my first book, Spirit of the Rising Hawk: How to Soar Through Life with Power, Purpose, Perspective, and Peace.
 
 
It finished at just over 70,000 words, so it really shows how what once seemed huge, (2,000 words), became a minor thing by a change in perspective. In fact, when I was writing it, 2,000 words a day was my goal, (because I had read in an interview with Stephen King that he did it that way).
 
 
Well, the only thing that Stephen King and I have in common are that we share the letters “g” and “e” in our names. Apparently, I was delusional at the time that I set THAT goal. I rarely hit 2,000 words a day, but I managed to finish the book in less than a year.
 
 
So, back to the beginning – I have to write. There may be few who read the words that I write in this blog, but, it doesn’t matter: writing is what I do.
 
 
Many people have taken something from that book to heart, and had their lives change in miraculous and positive ways.
 
 
I can take no real credit for this; any more than a typewriter can claim credit for a beautiful poem that came to life through the pressing of its keys. Most of that book was “beyond me” from day one; it came together seamlessly, and it was teaching me as much, if not more, than it would ever teach anyone else. The whole process was mystical.
 
 
I do not believe that there is anyone who benefits more from what I write than me. If you were to take the time to keep a journal – to regularly share your personal thoughts with a piece of paper – about anything, I am certain that you would be blessed in ways that you never imagined possible.
 
 
This is why I write when sleeping would be wiser.
 
 
Keep Soaring,
Rising Hawk





risinghawk

Virginia

 
Call me a shaman of sound, a writer, a teacher, a philosopher, a spiritual adventurer, jackass, fool, or whatever name appeals to you. My greatest hope is that something that I write will help others to broaden their horizons, or provide a measure of emotional healing.
 
 
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