Breathing Strange Air

Those Hipsters with their guitars, banjos and beards bring a tear to my eye every time

Hipsters and their guitars, banjos and rough voices make me tear up every time. I listened to a song that started out with the words “Old gas station hasn’t changed in a decade” and I almost lost it. That is it though; when certain areas of your inner being have been exposed to the blistering winds of tragedy and circumstance you tend to be sensitive to song’s about gas stations.

The song was about this rural area off the “Main Drag” about a man loving a woman in a simple life. Working, living and loving; seems like the kind of life that our society is quickly making scarce. The kind that could pack up and leave and find new roots no matter the circumstance. We are so heavy, burdened by the carapace of public visibility.

A book is a book is a test of my own metal

Writing a book is one of the things on my very short bucket list. It goes:

  • Write a book
  • Do a pull up
  • Have at least one person read said book
  • Meet that person
  • Die in a spectacular manner

So the book thing has been on my mind for quite a while and I am happy to say that the world building, history and a framework for at least 7 chapters is laid out before me like some kind of porous scaffolding upon which I will grow the flesh of a cohesive story.

I have lived a life time of having goals and aspirations only to consistently come up short and not really be able to achieve what my overly optimistic inner man suggests I can. However; in the latter part of my life I have begun to rely more and more on the one think that can cover my short comings. What wonderful grace we have.

 

Where they go and how far

It is breathing strange air writing a book. I was discussing it with my wife just a few days ago telling her about the world and story. She gave me this look and said.

“You might be more tortured than I thought”

I feel surprised at the amount of story, back story, and world that I have managed to produce. It is weighty and has enough words in it to be it’s own book. Unfortunately the world building is not in cohesive story format. I also recently spent about three weeks being stuck. Where do I take the story from here? What are the characters even doing in this place? What is the point of a large chamber with a mass of telepathic sin at the top of it? Oh I know because knowing your past is so very important.

Ready for November skies and a birthday of writing

When I have set-out to write a book; in the past I have simply started writing and found myself in a place where I have an unfinished book or a really poorly written short story. This time I am planning for the November skies of Texas. NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is coming. I plan to participate this year. My goal is to have the scaffolding for the story in place and then in November write 50K words.

Also November is my birthday month so hopefully I can give my self a finished first draft. I am unsure where writing a book goes. I hope it goes to more writing of books and maybe even some supplemental income for my family. What I really desire is that in this process I might come to know God more and my joy might be increased.

Photo by Jacob Aguilar-Friend on Unsplash


Also published on Medium.

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