After six months of living back home with mom I've decided that laziness no longer suits me and that it's high time I start doing something slightly more productive than nothing. So here I am. It's 12:49 at night and I've just begun my career as a freelance writer. There are no pomps or circumstances (whatever those are) to announce my arrival....just Chris Martin singing a song to me from his wonderfully mediocre album Viva La Vida. It's okay Chris, you can do better next time, this blog is really just a prelude to a career...I hope. I'm tired.
Today I read a story by Ray Bradbury from his masterpiece of childhood nostalgia, "Dandelion Wine". In it a thirty year-old man (who is described as young...I found that comforting) meets a 95 year-old woman whom he had developed a crush on based upon an old photograph. I can already sense some of my would-be readers begin to cringe inside. Don't worry, this was no Harold and Maude; Ray kept their relationship to a comfortable, platonic level. The reason I mention this story is because I want to quote an excerpt from it. The old woman has just asked the young man what he wants to do with his life. So here is his response. It's coming. Right..............now:
"See Istanbul, Port Said, Nairobi, Budapest. Write a book. Smoke too many cigarettes. Fall off a cliff, but get caught in a tree halfway down. Get shot at a few times in a dark alley on a Moroccan midnight. Love a beautiful woman."
Pretty cool, n'est-ce pas? With a few ammendments I'd say this is pretty much sums up what I'm looking for, for in a way it demonstrates a lack of knowing what to do. It's more an ideology than a roadmap....a motto for all of us Lloyd Doblers out there who know more about what they don't want to do rather than what they do want to do. We have a sense of what we're searching for--something a ways off the beaten path, but our compasses are spinning and people are constantly shouting in our ears, "What, what what! When, when, when!"
So I graduated from college a year ago with a degree that I get the feeling people believe is useless and I'm ready for....what again? Oh, right, a career. So this is it, the beginning of a prelude. If you're still reading this, whoever you are, thank you thank you thank you. You're helping me find my way. Please check back in as I plan on posting various essays and hey, maybe even a few short stories. Please feel free to leave any comments for me such as, "Your writing is pretentious. What was that, French? You ramble on like a cracked-out hobo". Of course positive feedback would be neat too.
P.S. I wrote a letter to Ray Bradbury today. Stay tuned to find out if and when he writes back to me!
