A Young Mans" Dream
It was late one night when the thoughts that were constantly floating around inside my mind were finally realized. I was twenty-eight years old, and not getting any younger. I thought of myself as bright, ambitious, and full of ideas. I had a thousand reasons why I should try to get my writing out to the world and not a single idea on how to accomplish it.
Id been writing for fifteen years, and had written some fairly good work. I would go to a coffee shop in the town I was living in at the time, and recite my works there. I have a very different style of writing, which translates into a very unique sound when heard aloud. There were a multitude of different types of people who had very different interests that hung out at the coffee shop. Punkers, hippies, metalheads, english professors from the local university, and all sorts of different shapes and sizes of people, both young and old, who I believed all had a common interest in the arts, in some way or another. Id read every Tuesday night, and I dont know if myself or the patrons were more excited. But when Id get up on the stage, you could hear a pin drop. The crowd it seemed would hit pause on whatever they were conversing about with their friends and sit contently while Id read. Often times I would tell the crowds, to have same respect for all the artists as was shown to me.
After a couple of months, every week I would have a new poem or short-story to recite. Some were good, others were not so good, to me anyways, but the crowd always seemed to enjoy the words that rolled out. Then, I stopped reading. I still frequented the coffee shop, letting everybody know there was something big in the works. The big thing in the works was a puzzle I started writing, a puzzle that took over four months to complete. I titled the work simply THE. Reason being, out of the eight sections THE contains, sections 1,3,5,&7 all are lines of simple, not so random flashes of thought, all beginning with THE. Sections 2,4,6,&8 are where the real ideas are.
It was a Tuesday just like any other when I first recited THE in its entirety, to the roar of a standing ovation. It was at that moment, I knew THE was something special. From that moment on, people Id never met would come up to me and ask, Will you read THE tonight? A humbling feeling would envelope me, because I felt I had made something that touched people in their soul. I decided it was time to take it to the next level. Try to get published.
I dont know if any of you have ever tried to get anything published before, but believe me, it is not easy. And if its poetry, its even harder. I researched publishing houses, periodicals, and poetry compilations, finding the ones who accepted manuscripts from unpublished authors. Most of whom I never received a response from, but I did not let that discourage me. I told myself no matter what, this would be heard by the masses.
Three months ago I set up a website at myselfiknow dot com , and placed the book up for sale. This is just the beginning. I am waiting for a copyright to be sent back to me for my other works. As of right now, THE is available for immediate download, and the audio rendition is also available.
Hearing my writing is a much more rewarding experience than reading it. So far Ive sold a couple copies, but it is like having the cure for cancer. You may have it, but if you dont spread the word, no one will ever know it exists. I am spreading the word.
Most of the people around me are telling me Im wasting my time, and to just give up. I dont understand where they are, to come to a conclusion of just give up. To me I think its that most of them dont believe in themselves, and therefore dont believe anything good can happen to anybody. But they are wrong. I believe, that is all that matters. And I will not stop Ever. This puzzle needs to be heard by the people. Believe me, this is good stuff. Every time I read it, I am amazed that I created such a wonderful piece of art. And If I dont sell any, the people who have the time to listen will always have THE , with all its dreams and ideas, in their souls.
Id been writing for fifteen years, and had written some fairly good work. I would go to a coffee shop in the town I was living in at the time, and recite my works there. I have a very different style of writing, which translates into a very unique sound when heard aloud. There were a multitude of different types of people who had very different interests that hung out at the coffee shop. Punkers, hippies, metalheads, english professors from the local university, and all sorts of different shapes and sizes of people, both young and old, who I believed all had a common interest in the arts, in some way or another. Id read every Tuesday night, and I dont know if myself or the patrons were more excited. But when Id get up on the stage, you could hear a pin drop. The crowd it seemed would hit pause on whatever they were conversing about with their friends and sit contently while Id read. Often times I would tell the crowds, to have same respect for all the artists as was shown to me.
After a couple of months, every week I would have a new poem or short-story to recite. Some were good, others were not so good, to me anyways, but the crowd always seemed to enjoy the words that rolled out. Then, I stopped reading. I still frequented the coffee shop, letting everybody know there was something big in the works. The big thing in the works was a puzzle I started writing, a puzzle that took over four months to complete. I titled the work simply THE. Reason being, out of the eight sections THE contains, sections 1,3,5,&7 all are lines of simple, not so random flashes of thought, all beginning with THE. Sections 2,4,6,&8 are where the real ideas are.
It was a Tuesday just like any other when I first recited THE in its entirety, to the roar of a standing ovation. It was at that moment, I knew THE was something special. From that moment on, people Id never met would come up to me and ask, Will you read THE tonight? A humbling feeling would envelope me, because I felt I had made something that touched people in their soul. I decided it was time to take it to the next level. Try to get published.
I dont know if any of you have ever tried to get anything published before, but believe me, it is not easy. And if its poetry, its even harder. I researched publishing houses, periodicals, and poetry compilations, finding the ones who accepted manuscripts from unpublished authors. Most of whom I never received a response from, but I did not let that discourage me. I told myself no matter what, this would be heard by the masses.
Three months ago I set up a website at myselfiknow dot com , and placed the book up for sale. This is just the beginning. I am waiting for a copyright to be sent back to me for my other works. As of right now, THE is available for immediate download, and the audio rendition is also available.
Hearing my writing is a much more rewarding experience than reading it. So far Ive sold a couple copies, but it is like having the cure for cancer. You may have it, but if you dont spread the word, no one will ever know it exists. I am spreading the word.
Most of the people around me are telling me Im wasting my time, and to just give up. I dont understand where they are, to come to a conclusion of just give up. To me I think its that most of them dont believe in themselves, and therefore dont believe anything good can happen to anybody. But they are wrong. I believe, that is all that matters. And I will not stop Ever. This puzzle needs to be heard by the people. Believe me, this is good stuff. Every time I read it, I am amazed that I created such a wonderful piece of art. And If I dont sell any, the people who have the time to listen will always have THE , with all its dreams and ideas, in their souls.
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