I was telling a friend tonight about where I am with my writing at the moment: the book, getting back into the swing of op-ed writing, what have you. He asked me why am I writing at all: for fame and fortune or to get a message out that's burning my bosom up from the inside.
I want a bit of all of that, to be honest. After half a lifetime of battling demons, I still hope to find a little success as a writer. It doesn't have to be an awful lot of fame or acclaim. That's never been what this blog is about or anything else I've put my hand to for that matter. I suppose if there is a gauge I'm going by, it's that I wind up feeling like Dad would be proud of me. He never gave up on me and I want to do right by that.
Anyhoo, my friend said that if there was a message to be shared, that a true writer would get it out there. Even if it meant making graffiti art of it. That reminded me of this Beetle Bailey cartoon from several years back. Amazing how much wisdom there is to be found in a comic strip...
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