Introduction

Introduction

Silly title, I know. It started as a joke file name where I stashed some of my ridiculous tales. I wrote some of these originally in the 1980’s, when I fancied myself a humorist. I even submitted a typed copy of “Talent Is… One Thing” to National Lampoon Magazine, in an effort, to be hired onto their staff. They never responded. To be fair, the original title of that ditty was “The Rise and Fall of A Superstar”. In original form, it was awful! While that publication is infamous for raucous-and-even-bizarre satire, I’m sure their editorial staff found more humor in my pitiful attempt than my contrived and style-free ranting.

  These early works have an interesting history though, and that’s why I think I still have kept some of them. For example, “Talent…” is a culmination of some wild experiences I had as a musician in the 70’s, combined with some outrageous exaggerations. A few other such tales have evolved and survived from that era. One such transformation was a short-but-stupid story about my efforts to form a band via an ad in the classifieds (I don’t even remember the original title), became “Tripped Down Memory Strained” when I picked it up years later to re-write. That story took an unexpected turn on me. The current chapter under that moniker is completely different, and you probably should disregard my comments about it. Uh- too late?

I’m a complex guy. I have an uncanny knack for complicating the simplest message. This quirk of mine has not only frustrated everyone who ever knew me, but has effectively repeatedly thwarted my main objective as a writer: to effectively communicate.

I’ve always been a writer, even before kindergarten. I was drawing comic books with my early childhood friend, John. He was a couple years older, so he could help me with the words I didn’t know. And there weren’t that many! I remember my mom and dad’s adult friends marveling over my vocabulary far beyond a normal five year old. I would sit nearby playing or drawing, while my mother would help my brother Larry with his first grade homework. They didn’t realize I was paying more attention than Larry. By the time I was six, I could read a newspaper with understanding. And I loved to read!

Comic books, literature, TV, and movies fueled my creative fires. I was constantly writing or drawing. Some of my all-time favorite books I read as a youth. In my eleventh year alone, I read White Fang and Call of the Wild (both by Jack London), Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes, and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (talk about a tough read!). I had already found great appreciation for Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Rod Serling, Edmond Hamilton, and many of their science fiction compadres. I wanted to be one of them.

I believe that every good writer must love to read, not to copy another author’s style, or plagiarize ideas. However, knowledge is increased. Perspective is broadened. The mechanics of writing are honed. And out of the blender comes a unique voice, richer and wiser. I attribute my growth as an author largely to reading other writers’ works.

This book, my memoirs, really started taking the form of a book in my forty-ninth year. I had labored on my first book, More Than Songs, for about eight years, and an agent had been attempting to sell it to a publisher for over a year. My second book, Leaven of the Pharisees, had been about four years in the works, and was moving sluggishly. Simultaneously, I was also writing a sci-fi book called Song of Lyta. I was actively writing articles, and had several published online. I was working also on a companion Bible study curriculum for More Than Songs, as well as several teaching opportunities my church was offering me.

I read an interesting book called Running With Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. It was the memoirs of his childhood. Most unusual, funny, touching, and disturbing. Then, I was making a cheese sandwich, and the way I arranged the Velveeta on the bread reminded me of my mom. I wrote late into the night “Velveeta Jigsaw Puzzles”. I picked up a journal entry called “An Ever-increasing Difference of Blood” which I had not finished nor touched in about three years. Suddenly, it all just started coming together. When the muse to write tweaked me, it was in reminiscence. The entire project started taking shape in my mind. Some already-created works fit together with some new inspirations.

The chapters of this book seem to each focus on the influences of key people and events in my life. That’s probably not how it started, but it has just happened. I am more than the sum of my experiences; however, explaining “me” seems to work that way. It’s a thought process I rely heavily upon, detecting connectedness between events and relationships. It’s the way I make sense of things. When I was home-schooling my daughter Mindy for her senior year of high school, I utilized this method, connecting all of her subjects to her least favorite subject- history (I love history!).

The resulting hodge-podge can only be the fruit of perhaps delusional-thinking. It’s my nature to see connectedness, apparent or imagined, in everything. As I examine these memoirs and exaggerations, I find patterns. The events of my life, whether good or bad, have all served a greater purpose, each intertwined to pull me (sometimes not so gently) to where I am now. They have prepared me to become who I now am. This will continue until I leave this assignment, my life, and my mission here is complete. Maybe this delusion is a gift from God.

Some of the events in this book are completely true. Others are a blend of experiences and exaggerations, combined to hopefully entertain and inspire. While some events and characters are complete fabrications. Some names are changed, but most remain the same. I’m a writer, I can do that.