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It
was about twenty years ago when I decided that I was going
to write a book. I’d toyed with the idea for maybe ten
years before that. I knew that I didn’t have the credentials
to write non-fiction but those kinds of projects looked boring
anyway. I had spent a lifetime reading mysteries and they
were what I knew best. Besides, they were my favorites.
I
was reading a newspaper one day and was drawn to an article
by a picture of an old man, hands raised in a boxing stance.
It was a short article, maybe three or four paragraphs. The
man, ninety three at the time was helping out in his grandson’s
store when two armed robbers walked in and demanded cash.
The old man disarmed both of them and beat them unconscious
with his fists, then called the police. Seems the old guy
had been the heavyweight champion of Canada at one time and
had never stopped working out. Then about five years later
that same photo caught my eye again only this time it was
the man’s obituary. As soon as I looked at the picture,
I remembered every word of the earlier story. That’s
when it hit me… if your story’s strong enough,
it will make a lasting impression.
So
I set about writing an epic for the ages. I was unencumbered
by the challenges of success because I knew absolutely nothing
about the literary world with all of its rules and customs.
I forged ahead with pencils and legal pads until I had about
ten thousand words and decided that I was writing pure dreck.
I threw my project in the bottom drawer of a desk and it remained
there, undisturbed for at least six months.
When
I finally dragged it out and read it through, I realized that
it wasn’t as bad as I thought. So I began writing again.
When I reached the twenty thousand word plateau I once again
became frustrated and it went back to the bottom drawer.
Some
time later I bought my first computer. It was probably just
to help justify the expense of my new electronic toy but I
once again resurrected the old manuscript and laboriously
transferred it into my word processing program one letter
at a time. The more familiar I got with the computer, the
more I looked forward to the task. I began editing as I went
and soon I was over forty thousand words. It was then that
I realized that I had no idea how the story was going to end.
Finally I had the incentive required to finish it. It became…
The Unreal McCoy.
My
formal training consisted of one community college semester
of creative writing where we spent the entire semester studying
Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. I’m convinced
that, if you have a basic grasp of the language and a good
story in your head, all you’ve got to do is write it
down. Grammar and punctuation can be fixed. Don’t be
intimidated. Write!
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