I am forever amazed at the people whose life paths cross mine and those whose for a time merge with mine, parallel mine or criss-cross.
Today, I spent a little time with a published author who gave me a copy of his first book and autographed it for me. He is Steven D. Nielsen and the book is Two Runs of Stone, A Beckoning Call. I have not yet read the book, so I can't make any assessments of it, but I thought I would give him a plug as a thank you for the book. You can find more information at Two Runs of Stone. I have been enjoying the writing I have done lately and have been encouraged by more than one person to write a book or books, so I took advantage of the opportunity today to briefly talk of challenges, victories and experiences.
Endings are a particular challenge for me. I read with particular interest a post by another blogger on this site which stated that he always knew where the blog would end before he began it. I seldom know where I will end up or I spend so much time setting something up that I have lost interest or perseverance before I have developed the ending, so I often feel that I have let down not only my readers, but myself. I found that I am not alone in that. Mr. Nielsen (Steve) said that he had written much of his story without knowing how to tie it together and then one evening it came to him -- from where he can't say. He slept on the idea and when he awoke, it was still there. Revelations like that happen for me as well. Ideas sometimes come like gifts or like the pennies on the sidewalk.
I also learned from Steve about patience. He spent more than fifteen years writing his saga. Then he decided that the story was much too long to be only one book, so he split it into four stories where each is complete in itself, but each is also a part of the others.
He was told by a teacher in school that if one can write, one should. There is not enough good literature out there. That is an interesting consideration. We seem to have a flood of writing, of stories, of opinions, of wisdom, of foolishness, of seriousness, of fun, of poetry and prose. If I put my thoughts into words, do they touch people? Do those pennies from the sidewalk, invested, create wealth in this world or are they just bits of copper or zinc, better left ground into the earth from whence they came?
Find a penny pick it up, all the day, you'll have good luck.
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