Nicholas Hochstedler
I was strolling along when I was approached by a policeman warning me about a lady with dementia who had "escaped" from her family. I thought it would make a good cartoon or short story - really get inside her mind to rationalize her seemingly crazy point of view. I didn't put any work into it, but the idea stuck with me.
As I passed through college and my early twenties, there seemed to be an abundance of people telling me to follow their plan without giving a damn about my agency. I kept coming back to that day on the canal, the old woman who's escape had been validated in my mind. I started paying closer attention to how we create insecurities for people we're trying to help, especially in regards to elder and mental health care. My grandpa was aging, and I didn't like how we doted on the proud old man. My friend with a disability was moving through his twenties, and I didn't like how small we made him feel. The themes were all there, but writing a book wasn't a consideration then.
It all came to fruition after a long day at work. I had been worrying that my teaching was ineffectual, and that day had been particularly stressful. I felt inadequate, lost - I needed to get my mind right. I sat in my car and put on my favorite rapper Killer Mike. He was preaching about the grind, and he was really going hard. I got into it - reciting every word on point, head bobbing, hand motions, the whole bit. I knew that Killer Mike was built to rap. His versed forced me to wonder, "What is my grind? What is my constant? What am I built for?" The answer: writing. It hit me hard like an epiphany. When his verse ended, I stepped out of the car and went inside to write the best book ever; out came War in October.
As I passed through college and my early twenties, there seemed to be an abundance of people telling me to follow their plan without giving a damn about my agency. I kept coming back to that day on the canal, the old woman who's escape had been validated in my mind. I started paying closer attention to how we create insecurities for people we're trying to help, especially in regards to elder and mental health care. My grandpa was aging, and I didn't like how we doted on the proud old man. My friend with a disability was moving through his twenties, and I didn't like how small we made him feel. The themes were all there, but writing a book wasn't a consideration then.
It all came to fruition after a long day at work. I had been worrying that my teaching was ineffectual, and that day had been particularly stressful. I felt inadequate, lost - I needed to get my mind right. I sat in my car and put on my favorite rapper Killer Mike. He was preaching about the grind, and he was really going hard. I got into it - reciting every word on point, head bobbing, hand motions, the whole bit. I knew that Killer Mike was built to rap. His versed forced me to wonder, "What is my grind? What is my constant? What am I built for?" The answer: writing. It hit me hard like an epiphany. When his verse ended, I stepped out of the car and went inside to write the best book ever; out came War in October.
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