Thoughts Along the Journey


For some, there is no book living inside them. For some, the book is there, but it is never recognized as such.

For others, the book is there, on the outer edges of the mind, from birth. It may show its face to a toddler, poke a teenager in the ribs, or it may just sit there, collecting a lifetime of data until retirement and the Great Dreaded Empty Nest Syndrome.

Then it lightly taps you on the shoulder and whispers, “Relive it all. Write a book.”

Or itΒ “slaps you up ‘side the head”…and shouts in your ear, “HEY! It’s not the end, moron! How about making retirement a new adventure and WRITE A (bleeping) BOOK!

Here are some thoughts on one author’s journey.

12 thoughts on “Thoughts Along the Journey

  1. I love this! I’ve had that book inside me for years, but it seems like blogging was the way to share the memories that were screaming to be let out. The book itself is in progress, another of my many WIP’s that get put aside when the hands give out or the words just don’t come. Most call that condition “writer’s block,” but I call it MS relapse. I’m looking forward to reading more of your wisdom, Pearl. I have read Roger Moore’s wise words and wisecracks for a couple of years Some fine day I’ll post my very first poem for the amusement of all. And who knows, maybe some day I’ll post some of my published poetry, but for now the book will remain inside my shrinking brain cells — or inside the two or three that remain intact.

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    • Oh I like that: “MS Relapse”! That sounds a tad less insurmountable than A BLOCK! Mind if I borrow that term for a post sometime? – full credit given, of course!! πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€

      I really understand what you mean about blogging being an outlet for your that frustrating semi-cemetery of memories. When I first started blogging in 1996 (well, you actually had to create websites, back before you had to pay for them, and then free blog site templates were made an available substitute), that’s exactly what I used it for: sharing memories (and lessons learned) that seemed to burden me, even if they were great ones. Amazing that not sharing joy can build up and heavily as not sharing pain…

      Just to let you (all) in on a WIP: I’m going to use the content on one of my ancient websites for a book…I mean, why waste all that hard won life-education?!! If it looks good enough, I may even ‘book-icize’ some of the other, defunct, sites….if I live that long!!!

      As for getting up the gumption to post your own first poem ‘some fine day…’, all I can say is, “I feel ya’!” Mine are all so simplistic as to be laughable (no where near in the same class as Roger’s 😦 ), but may some day….

      Angie, thanks for the smile you brought with you! And, btw…in my opinion, as long as you use those last two or three brain cells to full capacity, they’ll be able to resist shrinkage forever!!!

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      • Pearl, you may use anything I say at any time you like. Thank you for this sweet reply. I’m smiling all over myself just from reading your words.

        I simply can’t imagine having to work that hard to set up a blog site. I’m in my 4th year with about 5 or 6 defunct sites, mostly deleted and hopefully forgotten, and it was hard enough just setting one up with WP. I used a couple of other venues and this is by far the easiest, at least when at isn’t crashing, but with several moves under my belt, I have also had several email addy changes. That’s where frustration takes over and words uttered during this time are not fit to print. I would marvel at the depth of my grandchildren’s’ knowledge of this electronic age if it were not for the fact that when the power fails, they don’t know what to do with themselves. I applaud the ones who were given the gift of imagination rather than the gift of electronic toys. The stories and memories I love to share have to do with my own childhood and the games we played, all without benefit of the eReader, iPod and all the other things deemed necessary in today’s world. And this reminds me that it is about time for me to post my annual walk down Memory Lane, more for the benefit of my cousins who share those memories than for the grands who don’t seem interested. I keep hard copies of those, however, just in case they want to know these things when I have sideswiped my last vehicle with my power chair and gone on to give the angels grief.

        I can honestly say my poetry improved after that first attempt at the ripe old age of 5, but never to the same point as Roger, who probably still doesn’t know he is one of my heroes. I don’t always leave a note or a “like” on his page because of, the partial paralysis that sometimes goes with the MS. My cooking skills seem to have reached that point today from the burnt smell emanating from my kitchen and the pressure still built up in the pressure cooker.

        On that note, I think I feel a blog post coming on about the perils of cooking while exhausted from a trip to the grocery. If I don’t get it written I’ll just direct folks to my reply on your site, :-), and let them read your wise words also. So now, on to my burnt chicken and then to the whipping post of my own making. Have a wonderful week.

        Angie

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      • You’re humour is hysterical!! I love it!!

        You know, that’s why I decided to make full use of the ability to self-pub. I have 10+2 children, well over 50 grands (aged 30and under) and at least 8 great-grands. Out of all that sea of humanity that I call family, there are a few who I think will be the history keepers and storytellers. I’ve kept my eye on all, to see which they will be, and it is they who will inherit those tomes of memories…and of course, those memories will include the ones passed down to me by my own parents and grandparents, so these books will be full and interesting.

        (you need to break down and get an old tape recorder and a bunch of cassette tapes. I just found mine the other day and cleaned it…just in case my eyes go completely)

        Well, I don’t know about wisdom, but I do know how to laugh at myself. Every site I’ve ever maintained has had a bit of the dry, self-deprecating, chuckle inducing silliness about it! Oh yes, my first website was in ’96, and I had to learn html code to create it! That was actually a lot of fun, especially for a 40+ year old!

        (By the way…in some cultures, I think it might be called “Blackened Chicken”. A veritable delicacy, you know!! πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ )

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      • Oh, how sweet of you to call my chicken blackened. I happen to love blackened chicken, so that came close to a fitting description. It tasted great, so that was a relief. And unlike my first attempt at the real “Blackened” chicken, I didn’t set off any alarms — smoke, fire, air raid siren, etc.
        I have a few tapes of my Mother telling me some of her stories, a real treasure in my opinion. I also have the skeleton of the book I began trying to write for the past 30 years. One of my WIP’s, setting there with a couple of quilts I couldn’t hold the needle long enough to finish, about 27,482,397 granny squares I really should sew together for the scrap afghan I’ve worked on since I was 12, a suit I was going to alter so it would look more like the 2000 fashion, which was when I began trying to make it fit right. Actually, some parts of that suit are in my pile of quilt scraps, now that I think of it. Sheesh! I should finish a few of those things. I only have 3 great-grands, but you just never know if one of them will be interested in knowing anything about a great grandma they’ve never seen before.
        Okay, I’ve fallen asleep and been awakened by my head hitting the monitor several times now, so I guess it’s time for me to head to my nest.
        I hope you have a wonderful night/week/month. G’nite.

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      • As Mama would have said, “Bless yer lil’ flea pickin’ heart!” (or “pea pickin'”, depending on her mood πŸ˜€ ), you have more gumption at your worst than I have at my best!!

        A scrap afghan and a patchwork quilt, eh? The Antiques Roadshow is one of my favourite programs and I recall episodes wherein was displayed history quilts made up of squares from baby blankets and nappies, toddler clothes, maternity clothes, boys’ and girls’ apparal, aprons and throws, and even part of a horse blanket! Each square told a story from multiple generations. Some of the squares held dates, names and quotes, printed or scripted in India ink and, more recently, Magic Marker…some were just scraps of fabric that children and adults, alike, made pictures on, using the same inks.

        Between your memoirs, whether you pen them or speak them, and your quilts and afghans (and cut up polyester suits!!), even if they are still but squares, you have already provided your progeny with ample ammunition to tackle the stories in your family!!

        Nurse your noggin and rest well, my dear πŸ™‚ and you have a beautiful night/week/month as well . Sweet dreams xxx

        Liked by 1 person

    • Well, you’re quite welcome, Roger! The “books inside” have all done that to me at one time or another, but when they all ganged up on me at retirement…! well, what other choice was there?!

      And that’s not to mention, of course, all the support, urging and bullying to “get going! don’t give up!” that I have gotten from family, friends and strangers who have become friends, right here on Old Fossil Writes and social media!

      And so now it’s my turn: “Keep up the good work, Roger!!” πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ˜

      Liked by 1 person

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