Writing, Old Age and Experience
I don't really have anything to say, other than I am not dead. I am still alive.
It would appear that during this restful Christmas break, I have booked far too much. Thus, it is hardly a restful Christmas break, much less a break either, so I shall be calling it merely Christmas.
I'm still working on achieving my deadline for Dec. 31st for my book's structured outline. I will be thrilled to have that done as it'll be the first time I have accomplished such a task with my writing. My next deadline will be Dec. 31st, 2007, which will be for the writing process to be completely finished. After that, I intend to move onto other projects, while passively searching for a publisher. I'm not hugely eager to get this current book published, rather I am more interested in finish the book so as to prove to myself that I can create a complete piece of fiction, thus motivate me to work on other projects that are dear to my heart. Not to say that this one is not, it is just that I have had another project on my mind long before this one that is constantly on my thoughts. In all that can be said, I love writing and I love the creative process. I saw an old man at the mall the other day. He was somewhat hunched over and walking was no simple task for him. He was not aided by a cane, but you could tell from his face that he had lived many years. He looked polite and approachable, but something made me wonder what he did with himself in his old age. I never talked to him, I likely will never see him again. Yet, it made me think of how much I enjoy writing. Old age does not seem like such a dim prospect when I realize that I will be able to continue my writing into those years. Unlike my other hobbies such as hockey, or other ones that involve getting around, my frail legs will not prevent me from writing. Arthritis may take my fingers from writing, but my mind will last. At least until I get Alzheimers since it is in my family background (even though it is not genetic, or hereditary, if you will.
Growing old. Often I see the eldery pass me by and I wonder what great stories they have lived through, what stories they may tell if I ask them. Yet I do not know how to broach such a topic with a complete elderly stranger, let alone where would I begin to ask them about their experiences? I think it is a shame that the young do not learn from the elderly for they know much better than we do, even if they did live in a different era. There is much hardship and shame that the young could be saved from if they had only given ear to the old and wise. But what is to be said of experience? Perhaps it is overembellished. Do we strive to experience so that we may warn others with our new knowledge from the experience, though they do not ask of our experience?
I guess this is one of those blogs where I just write whatever I am thinking as it is processed in my mind.
Again, please note that I don't proof-read or edit my blogs, so it is THAT raw. Yes, you are worthy to read. =P
It would appear that during this restful Christmas break, I have booked far too much. Thus, it is hardly a restful Christmas break, much less a break either, so I shall be calling it merely Christmas.
I'm still working on achieving my deadline for Dec. 31st for my book's structured outline. I will be thrilled to have that done as it'll be the first time I have accomplished such a task with my writing. My next deadline will be Dec. 31st, 2007, which will be for the writing process to be completely finished. After that, I intend to move onto other projects, while passively searching for a publisher. I'm not hugely eager to get this current book published, rather I am more interested in finish the book so as to prove to myself that I can create a complete piece of fiction, thus motivate me to work on other projects that are dear to my heart. Not to say that this one is not, it is just that I have had another project on my mind long before this one that is constantly on my thoughts. In all that can be said, I love writing and I love the creative process. I saw an old man at the mall the other day. He was somewhat hunched over and walking was no simple task for him. He was not aided by a cane, but you could tell from his face that he had lived many years. He looked polite and approachable, but something made me wonder what he did with himself in his old age. I never talked to him, I likely will never see him again. Yet, it made me think of how much I enjoy writing. Old age does not seem like such a dim prospect when I realize that I will be able to continue my writing into those years. Unlike my other hobbies such as hockey, or other ones that involve getting around, my frail legs will not prevent me from writing. Arthritis may take my fingers from writing, but my mind will last. At least until I get Alzheimers since it is in my family background (even though it is not genetic, or hereditary, if you will.
Growing old. Often I see the eldery pass me by and I wonder what great stories they have lived through, what stories they may tell if I ask them. Yet I do not know how to broach such a topic with a complete elderly stranger, let alone where would I begin to ask them about their experiences? I think it is a shame that the young do not learn from the elderly for they know much better than we do, even if they did live in a different era. There is much hardship and shame that the young could be saved from if they had only given ear to the old and wise. But what is to be said of experience? Perhaps it is overembellished. Do we strive to experience so that we may warn others with our new knowledge from the experience, though they do not ask of our experience?
I guess this is one of those blogs where I just write whatever I am thinking as it is processed in my mind.
Again, please note that I don't proof-read or edit my blogs, so it is THAT raw. Yes, you are worthy to read. =P
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posted by SillyPickle at 10:49 PM
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