Skip to main content

Starships Were Meant To Fly

Sitting in a Wal Mart vision center while my daughter gets new glasses, I am struck by something. How amazing it is that I have so many people in my life who are willing to help me reach my dreams of being a world-class, award-winning, best-selling author (there's no point in going at the dream half-assed now is there?).  It's really kind of cool.

And as I get to know these people better, these authors and writers that are fast becoming friends, I am realizing the concept of the rising tide that we've talked about.

Basically, in our collective of writers (both in the Columbus group I'm part of and the Ashland group that I'm becoming more of a part of (I think I'm probably part of the group, at least by proxy, by this point)), we are both the tide and the ship in equal parts. When we are the tides, we raise the ships of our compatriots up--helping them grow and improve and getting ever closer to their goals, whatever they may be.

When we are the ships, in turn, focused on our dreams and hopes and goals, the tide of those around us lift us up and get us closer to reaching our dreams.

It's a simple concept.  The thought that for any of us to win, we ALL need to win. And the more successful we become in making our dreams come true, the more we are in a position to help make the dreams of others come true.

Can you imagine what the world would be like if success was not measured in what you personally "got," but instead was measured in how much you helped others get that which they needed?

It's a sobering concept to think that even if you hit every milestone you have set for yourself as a success-none of it matters if you don't help someone else reach their dreams.

I used to feel guilty, or like I didn't quite belong when I was around these groups. It took me a while before I felt comfortable in my own skin, to the point where I was ok with saying that I WAS a writer (I AM a writer). And even longer still before I felt like I had something to contribute--come new insight that maybe they hadn't thought of. But I know I am and I do. And I know that being a part of these groups, helping each other reach our dreams is going to propel me quicker than anything I could do on my own.

Definitely a rising tide scenario. So to CMC and NCOW, I say...thank you for welcoming me and let's do this thing!

#2 Random Train of Thought
This is the third or fourth post I've done now on the NEO2. It's taking a bit of getting used to, but overall, I'm still digging it. It's definitely giving me the distraction free writing experience that I've really been looking for.

And the fact that I can just pull this thing out, grab some space on a table or my lap and start typing is the bomb.

Alright, my baby girl has her glasses ordered now. Time to get back to work.

Peace out inter webs,
-A.T.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis. So...no, I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

Out of Sorts

Not sure what my deal is today. I got up this morning to go for a walk and it was spitting rain, but no biggie. My thriftstore Nikes were kind of hurting my feet, so that didn't help. But it felt good to go for the walk (other than the hurting feet). And it's all going well...and then I get into work and just turn into PMS-Man.  I don't know what my deal is. I just feel bitchy this morning and I'm not sure why. So..um. Yeah. That's all I got.

Post Con-Fusion

It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this morning. I was in the middle of a chapter that I started at lunch and had every intention of continuing this morning. But, much like me, it seems the characters wanted to sleep in today. They wanted to just hunker under the covers as the rain danced its hypnotic melody on my roof. The swoosh swoosh swoosh of the ceiling fan keeping time with the rest of the nocturnal orchestra.

So, I shifted gears. I am taking  a course on getting more words on the page. Something that I want to do need to do if I am to get all of these books that are floating around in my head out in to the world. It's not so much that I think the whole world will love and adore them, although I certainly hope that is the case. No, it's more the fact that it's getting crowded up there. I need to get these words on the page for my own sanity as much as anything else.

Sanity,…