The Beginning (Something to Stem the Diminishing)
Every book needs a beginning.
The beginning of this book came to me one day as I was contemplating where writing comes from -- any kind of writing.
I can't remember which writer said it, but the quote goes something like this: "Writing is easy! Just open a vein and bleed."
So, what is the beginning?
This is the beginning.
The Beginning
I was successful by my own modest standards. At the very least, I didn’t worry about money anymore. In my dreams, I saw them there, and I said to one of them, “Teach me about pain.”
The person I spoke to smiled briefly, knowingly and said, “Fuck you. Get the fuck away from me.”
Winter comes and my company gives me a bonus. It’s apparent by the way my boss hands me the check that he’s worried about losing me—talent flight or something.
But no one is worried about losing those who suffer in silence. They suffer in silence—so we learn nothing about pain.
We are supposed to learn about teamwork at a seminar at work. I raise my hand and say honestly, “Shouldn’t we take a bullet in the kneecap before beginning our discussion? Before we can become a team, we’ll probably need to share something horrible.” The man at the podium has probably been informed that our company fears my flight of talent. I forget what I’m good at, but it must be pretty serious because everyone nods politely and compliments me on my taste in ties before moving on.
One day I drive into a neighborhood where normal people dare not go. I find a man on the street and I say to him, “Teach me about pain.”
And it’s strange. He straightens up as if he knows me.
“My son, you are flesh and blood, alive but fragile—you are human. If you do not suffer pain, then I don’t know what you are. Spare us this pretentious question and become one of us. Only when you admit your pain can your story begin—for all stories, even our comedies, are born of pain.”
My eyes tear up. Is this really the cost of a beginning? Do I need to once again find myself cloaked in agony? Do I have to die again?
I explain to him that I have something others call talent.
“True, this thing others call talent has made you wealthy. It has kept you warm and protected. But it will not make you human. It will not teach you pain. And without pain, there is no beginning.”
You can check out the book here:
Available on Smashwords and Kindle.
You can also download a free PDF file on Goodreads.
The beginning of this book came to me one day as I was contemplating where writing comes from -- any kind of writing.
I can't remember which writer said it, but the quote goes something like this: "Writing is easy! Just open a vein and bleed."
So, what is the beginning?
This is the beginning.
The Beginning
I was successful by my own modest standards. At the very least, I didn’t worry about money anymore. In my dreams, I saw them there, and I said to one of them, “Teach me about pain.”
The person I spoke to smiled briefly, knowingly and said, “Fuck you. Get the fuck away from me.”
Winter comes and my company gives me a bonus. It’s apparent by the way my boss hands me the check that he’s worried about losing me—talent flight or something.
But no one is worried about losing those who suffer in silence. They suffer in silence—so we learn nothing about pain.
We are supposed to learn about teamwork at a seminar at work. I raise my hand and say honestly, “Shouldn’t we take a bullet in the kneecap before beginning our discussion? Before we can become a team, we’ll probably need to share something horrible.” The man at the podium has probably been informed that our company fears my flight of talent. I forget what I’m good at, but it must be pretty serious because everyone nods politely and compliments me on my taste in ties before moving on.
One day I drive into a neighborhood where normal people dare not go. I find a man on the street and I say to him, “Teach me about pain.”
And it’s strange. He straightens up as if he knows me.
“My son, you are flesh and blood, alive but fragile—you are human. If you do not suffer pain, then I don’t know what you are. Spare us this pretentious question and become one of us. Only when you admit your pain can your story begin—for all stories, even our comedies, are born of pain.”
My eyes tear up. Is this really the cost of a beginning? Do I need to once again find myself cloaked in agony? Do I have to die again?
I explain to him that I have something others call talent.
“True, this thing others call talent has made you wealthy. It has kept you warm and protected. But it will not make you human. It will not teach you pain. And without pain, there is no beginning.”
You can check out the book here:
Available on Smashwords and Kindle.
You can also download a free PDF file on Goodreads.
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