About an hour into my first "real" day on the job, I had my first revelation. This writing thing is a whole lot like work--way more like work than I thought it would be. I guess I was expecting that I'd just sit at the computer and brilliant prose flow out of me and onto my computer's memory. Perhaps those times will come, but it wasn't working that way yesterday. I had to drag those words out one by one.
I did get some good work done. I outlined Project X and wrote the first 800 words, and I'm pleased with how quickly and how nicely the outline fell into place. Calliope was mostly absent, but did tap on my shoulder at sporadic intervals. I hope she's a more regular visitor as my projects unfold.
If you're not familiar with either Greek mythology or New Orleans street names, Calliope is one of the nine muses. She's the one who inspires eloquence and her specific realm is epic and heroic poetry.
I don't know if there's a muse in charge of hack writers and pulp fiction, but if I find her out there, I'll let you know. If I find her, I suspect her name will be either Chloe or Wynona, depending on which project I'm working on.
I figure that if I can write about a thousand words a day, I should be able to crank out a couple of projects over the course of the coming year.
Today, I'm going to ask Calliope to imbue me with the flash of inspiration needed to begin Project Y.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
What this is about
First of all, I don't believe in horoscopes. I've always thought that they are written so that anyone can read a little of themselves into any of the 12 bits of bogus daily wisdom printed in that day's newspaper.
A little aside (oops, I haven't begun and I'm already doing "asides". Oops, there's another one.): Back in the early 80s, when I was just a couple of years out of journalism school (Go Dawgs!), I found myself the news editor of a struggling daily newspaper in Homestead, Florida. Every so often there would be a snafu at the syndicate we used and we wouldn't receive a week's worth of horoscopes. This was a big problem since it turns out that many, many of our faithful readers didn't share my disdain for astrological mumbo jumbo.
On those occasions when the horoscopes failed to arrive, the usual procedure was to take the horoscopes from an old edition of the paper (a year or more back) and then type them in with the astrological signs and copy for each sign scrambled. It worked every time. Nobody ever noticed and nobody ever complained. On my watch, I preferred to take a more "honest" approach and write the horoscopes myself from scratch. "I'm writing the horoscopes," I'd shout to the newsroom. "Who wants to have a very good day tomorrow?" I was a bit dismayed to learn that several of my colleagues were genuinely horrified that I was writing "fake" horoscopes.
All this is to say that I never read my horoscope, and I have no idea why I did this morning. But here's what mine said for today, June 29, 2009:
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)Do some writing. Once you let go and let the words flow, the process is enthralling. You never know what's inside you until you take it out and look at it. You'll be surprised at what you learn about yourself.
Okay, that's just spooky. If you bear with me a bit longer, you'll see why.
My name is Hank Henley, and I live in Helena, Alabama, an exurb of Birmingham. I'm sure you'll learn a lot about me anecdotally as I write this blog--marriages; one happy, one sad--my 15 years in New Orleans and departure after Hurricane Katrina--my innermost thoughts, should I happen to have any--etc.--but for now this is the least you need to know about me:
I turn 50 in less than two months.
For most of the last several decades I've been a salesman or sales manager peddling college textbooks. It's a noble enough profession, and I earned a fair living at it for all those years. But I became bored and worn out from the cumulative effect of the road. I once reckoned that I've spent nearly four years of my life on the road on business. That's a lot of nights in Hampton Inns, my friend.
One day in the spring of 2008 I was in the biology department at Jacksonville State University looking for the microbiology professor so I could sell him our latest and greatest text. He wasn’t there but he had the following quote posted on his door:
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain
I had never seen that quote before, but the truth of it hit me like a ton of bricks.
You see I've always wanted to write books, but life took me in another direction. Now on the cusp of 50, with the realization that nearly any writer I could think of had already produced his or her best work by the time they reached the age I am now, I knew that it was truly now or never.
So after a lot of planning, some saving, and the support of my beautiful wife Teri, on June 1, 2009 I left my employer of the last 14 years to explore, dream, discover.
Teri and I are giving this project one year. If, after one trip around the sun, I'm sitting at home eating bon bons, watching Oprah and have produced nothing, then it's back to the salt mine for me. That is assuming that a 51 year old can find a job in whatever passes for an economy 12 months from now.
I'm an optimist by nature. Most salespeople are. So I've dubbed the coming 12 months "The Best Year Ever".
Teri and I kicked off "The Best Year Ever" with a trip to France. Some of our friends joined us as we spent some time in Paris and then floated through Burgundy on a barge. The trip culminated in a 50th birthday party for the two of us on our last magical night of the trip. For Teri the party was a bit overdue (she turned 50 in May) and for me it was a tad premature. But it was the best birthday party I've ever attended and a fitting beginning to a new decade and a new phase of life.
Having returned home from our trip and after giving myself a week to recover and get my affairs in order, today, June 29, 2009 is the day I had preordained to begin my career as a professional writer. And, at about 7 a.m. today, over my second cup of coffee, I happened to see my horoscope. I still believe astrology is nonsense, but you have to admit that my horoscope today was just plain weird.
I have three goals for the next year:
Goal One is to write a book length manuscript and see it well on the way to publication.
Goal Two is to lose 60 pounds. My years on the road and my lifestyle of sloth have moved me to the wrong side of the obesity dividing line on the BMI chart. And I have discovered that being fat at 50 is much worse than being fat at 40.
When I went to my doctor for a physical a few weeks ago, he asked me if I had any health issues.
"Yeah doc. I'm fat, my blood pressure is too high and my feet hurt like hell all the time," I said.
"I've got a cure for all three of those," said the very wise Dr. Marshall.
Other than the occasional course of antibiotics when I've caught a bug, I've never been on any prescription drug for anything, and I don't even like to take as much as an aspirin if I don't absolutely have to. But that day my doctor gave me a scrip for high blood pressure medicine. "I'd like to bring down at least one of your risk factors," he said ominously. For a guy who has run a half marathon and innumerable 10k races, I find this situation intolerable. If I can lose 60 pounds, I'll be one pound on the good side of the "healthy" line on my BMI chart, according to my bathroom scale. Of course my bathroom scale cheats a few pounds light, but I'll be satisfied with that, and I'll bet Dr. Marshall will too.
Goal Three is to learn something--about myself, about the world, about relationships, about God--something, anything. A little reflection, exploration and discovery is intentionally built into this process. That's where this little blog comes in. I'm going to keep this as a record of "The Best Year Ever", and if I learn something along the way, I'll let you know.
A little aside (oops, I haven't begun and I'm already doing "asides". Oops, there's another one.): Back in the early 80s, when I was just a couple of years out of journalism school (Go Dawgs!), I found myself the news editor of a struggling daily newspaper in Homestead, Florida. Every so often there would be a snafu at the syndicate we used and we wouldn't receive a week's worth of horoscopes. This was a big problem since it turns out that many, many of our faithful readers didn't share my disdain for astrological mumbo jumbo.
On those occasions when the horoscopes failed to arrive, the usual procedure was to take the horoscopes from an old edition of the paper (a year or more back) and then type them in with the astrological signs and copy for each sign scrambled. It worked every time. Nobody ever noticed and nobody ever complained. On my watch, I preferred to take a more "honest" approach and write the horoscopes myself from scratch. "I'm writing the horoscopes," I'd shout to the newsroom. "Who wants to have a very good day tomorrow?" I was a bit dismayed to learn that several of my colleagues were genuinely horrified that I was writing "fake" horoscopes.
All this is to say that I never read my horoscope, and I have no idea why I did this morning. But here's what mine said for today, June 29, 2009:
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)Do some writing. Once you let go and let the words flow, the process is enthralling. You never know what's inside you until you take it out and look at it. You'll be surprised at what you learn about yourself.
Okay, that's just spooky. If you bear with me a bit longer, you'll see why.
My name is Hank Henley, and I live in Helena, Alabama, an exurb of Birmingham. I'm sure you'll learn a lot about me anecdotally as I write this blog--marriages; one happy, one sad--my 15 years in New Orleans and departure after Hurricane Katrina--my innermost thoughts, should I happen to have any--etc.--but for now this is the least you need to know about me:
I turn 50 in less than two months.
For most of the last several decades I've been a salesman or sales manager peddling college textbooks. It's a noble enough profession, and I earned a fair living at it for all those years. But I became bored and worn out from the cumulative effect of the road. I once reckoned that I've spent nearly four years of my life on the road on business. That's a lot of nights in Hampton Inns, my friend.
One day in the spring of 2008 I was in the biology department at Jacksonville State University looking for the microbiology professor so I could sell him our latest and greatest text. He wasn’t there but he had the following quote posted on his door:
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain
I had never seen that quote before, but the truth of it hit me like a ton of bricks.
You see I've always wanted to write books, but life took me in another direction. Now on the cusp of 50, with the realization that nearly any writer I could think of had already produced his or her best work by the time they reached the age I am now, I knew that it was truly now or never.
So after a lot of planning, some saving, and the support of my beautiful wife Teri, on June 1, 2009 I left my employer of the last 14 years to explore, dream, discover.
Teri and I are giving this project one year. If, after one trip around the sun, I'm sitting at home eating bon bons, watching Oprah and have produced nothing, then it's back to the salt mine for me. That is assuming that a 51 year old can find a job in whatever passes for an economy 12 months from now.
I'm an optimist by nature. Most salespeople are. So I've dubbed the coming 12 months "The Best Year Ever".
Teri and I kicked off "The Best Year Ever" with a trip to France. Some of our friends joined us as we spent some time in Paris and then floated through Burgundy on a barge. The trip culminated in a 50th birthday party for the two of us on our last magical night of the trip. For Teri the party was a bit overdue (she turned 50 in May) and for me it was a tad premature. But it was the best birthday party I've ever attended and a fitting beginning to a new decade and a new phase of life.
Having returned home from our trip and after giving myself a week to recover and get my affairs in order, today, June 29, 2009 is the day I had preordained to begin my career as a professional writer. And, at about 7 a.m. today, over my second cup of coffee, I happened to see my horoscope. I still believe astrology is nonsense, but you have to admit that my horoscope today was just plain weird.
I have three goals for the next year:
Goal One is to write a book length manuscript and see it well on the way to publication.
Goal Two is to lose 60 pounds. My years on the road and my lifestyle of sloth have moved me to the wrong side of the obesity dividing line on the BMI chart. And I have discovered that being fat at 50 is much worse than being fat at 40.
When I went to my doctor for a physical a few weeks ago, he asked me if I had any health issues.
"Yeah doc. I'm fat, my blood pressure is too high and my feet hurt like hell all the time," I said.
"I've got a cure for all three of those," said the very wise Dr. Marshall.
Other than the occasional course of antibiotics when I've caught a bug, I've never been on any prescription drug for anything, and I don't even like to take as much as an aspirin if I don't absolutely have to. But that day my doctor gave me a scrip for high blood pressure medicine. "I'd like to bring down at least one of your risk factors," he said ominously. For a guy who has run a half marathon and innumerable 10k races, I find this situation intolerable. If I can lose 60 pounds, I'll be one pound on the good side of the "healthy" line on my BMI chart, according to my bathroom scale. Of course my bathroom scale cheats a few pounds light, but I'll be satisfied with that, and I'll bet Dr. Marshall will too.
Goal Three is to learn something--about myself, about the world, about relationships, about God--something, anything. A little reflection, exploration and discovery is intentionally built into this process. That's where this little blog comes in. I'm going to keep this as a record of "The Best Year Ever", and if I learn something along the way, I'll let you know.
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