Creating Something More

My wife left.

OK, don’t panic, she just took the kids to go visit her family a few states away for an early Christmas. I can’t get away, so I’m baching it this weekend. (Baching is short for “being a bachelor,” right? Well, that’s how I use the word, so deal with it.) Lord willing and she encounters no mad drivers, she and the kids will be back Sunday.

She left four hours ago.

I had all these grand plans for the evening: Grab some Chinese, watch some junk sci fi with supper, and then get writing. If my brain wouldn’t cooperate, dive into a book. Basically, enjoy the entire evening in creative pursuits.

Well, I did get the Chinese. I watched an episode of Star Trek: Voyager I had never seen before. And then.

Well, I played a game on my laptop for a bit. And I watched some YouTube videos. Wasted the evening.

It wasn’t even a case of writer’s block. I just never bothered opening a book or even a word processor. Putz putz putz putz. That’s what I did. Achieving nothing, hoping to become nothing, content with mediocrity and a Pepsi.

And then I watched a video of Gomer Pyle singing The Impossible Dream.

It’s silly – it’s some little clip from a show that frankly I’ve never seen before. But the song… it’s a song I know. And it calls for something more.

I think of my favorite books and movies. Lord of the Rings. Brenda Cooper’s Ruby’s Song. The Giver. I think of these stories that force me to think and grow and imagine and…

…and I am content to be a lump.

I want to be so much more. I want to craft narratives that grab people and lead them to change, to think in ways they’ve never thought, to consider viewpoints, to be changed through a crucible of tears and joy.

That ain’t gonna happen by being a lump.

The reason so few people create is that it takes leaving a piece of your soul in a product you have breathed life into. Pain is part of the process. So is joy, of course, but if that’s all it took, everyone would do it. Truly creating is not for the lazy.

So this is basically me saying to myself: Jon, get off your butt. Time to get moving.

Pick up the pen and bleed all over the page. It’s the only way to craft stories like that. Take up the keyboard and suffer. And in so doing, create something that may touch someone else.

Let’s get moving.

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