• Writing

    For Fear Of Being Judged

    I started keeping a journal around age 12, but since the start, I always self-censored myself, never being completely honest, and leaving out any mention of emotions or what I was feeling.  I noted only events, happenings, ideas, and plans for the future; where I had been, what I had seen, heard, experienced, and where I dreamed of going next.  I always focus on the past; what was, what could have been, what should have been.  I have always terrified of someone reading my journal for fear of being judged. I never really opened up to anybody; I never told the entire story of my to anyone only a thumbnail…

  • Writing

    In Pursuit Of Greatness

    Beginning in the early 1990’s is when I started to take my writing seriously, in pursuit of greatness.  I was inspired by all of the so-called great writers who had written the classics typically added to high school reading lists.  It was in the late 90’s that I first began to receive feedback after putting some of my writing on the Internet.  It seems so very long ago, and yet I often look back to the early days wondering how far I have progressed with my craft and the realization that if I had never found love, I might very well have devoted my life to writing. I spent the…

  • Writing

    All These Things I Thought About Today

    I recently published an article about my 11th grade English teacher, the crappy wannabe writer.  Most of what I write and publish I feel could have been better, it could have been edited more, revised more, or I could have simply waited just a little while longer before publishing it online, thereby releasing it into the great big world for all to see. All these things I thought about today… The feelings of inadequacy, imperfection, and underachievement are common among creative types, introverts especially.  Sometimes I think back to my 11th grade English class where I would spend an hour writing one single piece, then my teacher would make me…

  • Writing

    That’s Just The Way It Is

    Recently it became clear that my long-time friendship with ‘G’ is over. When I first met ‘G’, we were both college freshmen at Marshall University, and it was clear from the very beginning that we came from totally different backgrounds; mine traced back to my roots in New York City, his from some place not found on a map, somewhere in rural West Virginia. When ‘G’ was in college, he was a scared and vulnerable character, and most of the people who knew him would say that they could see through him, just like one could see the skeleton inside of a dragonfly wing. ‘G’ and I shared a lot…