DesDownunder's Blog

Thank you, Des, very much, for a moving and encouraging essay.

I'd very much like to see you submit that for publication at AD and CW, if you would please.

Despite, or maybe because of, all the crud going on in my life right now, I have story ideas floating around, percolating (or fermenting) in my head, for the first time in quite a long time in any seriously productive way. That feels good. So far, some has found its way onto pages on disc, but it's still slow going.

I had noticed, back when I was writing a lot of poems, that I would write when I was strongly moved by something, and had a deep emotional response, a need to get it down into words. My story ideas tend to be a scene or a few chapters, likewise from a strong reaction or inspiration. I had also noticed that for the poems, having (or believing I had) an audience or an individual to write for, also helped get the poem or story out.

Lately, when I had said I didn't know how I was doing, wasn't sure of myself, and was feeling weighed down, and wondering if the depressive feelings would be a bummer or turn off for readers, or were squelching (limiting) my output, a friend wrote back on a forum that I should just write anyway, that what I had to say was worth reading and sharing my experiences through writing was helpful to others. Well, it felt very good to hear that.

Many of us have to put up with bad circumstances in life. Low pay or crappy jobs, not enough savings, relationship troubles of one kind or another, moving due to whatever reason, health problems, so many things can happen, and some are just completely out of nowhere, then bang, there you are, faced with it.

Yes, not only do we have to get desperate and mad enough to say, "I can't take it anymore!" but further, "I'm not going to put up with it anymore!" and then onto, "I want to live!" and even perhaps, "I have to make people understand this, it has to change!"

I get, all too well, that sometimes, people reach the first two of those and do feel, entirely, like stepping away, leaving. Sometimes in fact, that's very healthy, to say, I don't need this crud anymore, I'm not going to put up with it, I'm going. There are times we have to tough things out, though, for whatever reasons. That's hard. (Been through that.) There are also times when at least some of us feel it's so final, we want to give up and take a very final, irreversible step. Well, but that deprives the world of a beautiful, needed person, a voice for the very thing troubling that person. (And yes, I've felt that way too, before. And yes, I deeply miss more than one person who took that step and died.) They are liked and loved, whether they know it or not.

So how do we respond to all the crap out there in the real world, all the tragedy and horror? We are forced to adapt, to change. We are forced to say, I must somehow change. This must change. People must learn and they must change. A roar of defiance at the monster or the desolation, and a stubborn insistence that "I want to live!" and "I will fight this thing!" are the answers. Even a mild-mannered person who means no harm can be a brave hero who defies the chaos and despair and horror, simply by being himself or herself. And that is urgently needed these days.

Art and beauty are needed too. Entertainment is needed, a chance to set aside the things troubling us and have a good laugh or a good cry, to pick ourselves up and go on. We need that chance to look outside ourselves and see in a way that someone else sees for a bit. Just maybe, then we discover someone in common, a kindred spirit, or the band of friends to carry us through and fight the horrors away, or wade through the mire to the cleaner shores ahead.

Bravo, Des, and thanks again.