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Showing posts with label Hemingway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hemingway. Show all posts

June 21, 2017

A Pilgrim’s Walk


By Warren A. Johnson


I wrote my first novel on a whim. Sort of like Jeremiah Johnson, who ignorantly walked into a bear hunt. “That'll be far enough, pilgrim!” If I’d had someone say that to me, I could’ve avoided the dangers of moving into a wilderness full of awe and wonder, which drew me close to death. Well, to the point a writer gets when he loses the trail and the path contains nothing but tangles, briars, and killers.

I blame my friend Randall, a fashion jewelry designer. He hired me to transport him to the Javits Convention Center in New York City. I listened as he talked about a script. After he completed his tale, he said, “We’re never going to make the movie. Someone ought to write the book.” This is where the pilgrim thing should have happened.

As I sat in front of the blank screen, I discovered I’m a Panster. I sent Randall chapters to identify if I’d captured the plot. He and his wife liked it. Then I heard about writers’ conferences and the money vacuum turned on. ACW rescued me, except they told me, “Kill the first seven chapters. That’s all backstory.” What?! After the shock wore off, I took three years to finish the tale. No publisher knocked down my door—probably because I may have told a decent story, but it wasn’t a novel.
Like Jeremiah, without proper background and study of the art form, I lacked industry survival skills. But, I did know about Max Perkins. He edited Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and the like. I needed a Max. Then one day the phone rang and the guy says, “For three hundred dollars I’ll publish your book.” Well, a book in the hand is better than a manuscript in the closet. I found out later it’s not worth much.

I retired three years ago and followed my writer/editor daughter to a conference where I found like-minded, peculiar souls called writers. I also found excellent mentors who never judged my lack, always encouraged learning, and have never said, “Hold it right there.”

So, people start a writing career for many reasons. Without an education in writing, there are pitfalls, but they can be overcome. It takes fortitude to do it this way. If you didn’t start out to be a writer, what made you decide to write the first book?
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Warren A. Johnson writes magazine articles, devotions, and an occasional blog. He lives with his wife of forty-five years, Barbara, in the Catskill Mountains of NY. He fathered three kids and loves the ten child descendants they bring to the table. A public speaking venue, Haversack History, motorcycling and radio control airplanes use up some retirement time. His   Socail Media Links are: Blog Facebook Author Page Twitter  

October 8, 2013

Carved in Stone


by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine


While visiting favorite relatives in North Carolina this weekend, I joined them for an excursion to historic downtown Hendersonville, where their fine arts festival, Art on Main, was in full swing. We strolled the streets, encountering metal workers, portrait painters, authors, blacksmiths, and apple-flavored ice cream, though my favorite discovery was an enormous general store called Mast, a multi-story warehouse of curiosities which was like a Farmer's Almanac come to life.  Their candy department alone was a treasure trove of forgotten and obscure confections.

Taking a break from all our walking, we soon camped out on park benches next to a city building.  As I toothfully worked on my first-ever Big Hunk (a taffy-like creation of honey-flavored nougat) I couldn't help but notice a concrete memorial right in front of me, honoring Vietnam veterans. It caught my eye because of its unique shape (that of the Vietnam coast itself) and also because at the very bottom was carved "Designed by Jerry Gordon, 1947-1995".

I thought it was ironic that someone who took the time to design this tribute has himself been immortalized, to the point where his name will also be seen in this spot for generations to come.

It brought to mind that you and I will someday leave behind a legacy of our own. The question is, what will that legacy be? As writers, we may hope it will be in the form of a bestseller that's still available fifty years from now.

(clockwise from top: Poe, Hemingway, Twain and Seuss respected in their respective stomping grounds)
The great authors who came before us are not only remembered via the printed page, but were found worthy of their own memorials. The homes of Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost are popular Gracelands in their own right. Walt Whitman and Kurt Vonnegut have libraries named after them. A wax figure of Mark Twain can be posed with in more than one American city, as well as in Canada.

These beloved writers became beloved by leaving a legacy of literature that captured the times as well as  the hearts of their readers. The book you're working on right now may well become the masterpiece that defines 2013 to a generation to come.  A lofty suggestion, perhaps, but it's unlikely that Nathaniel Hawthorne ever imagined that his likeness would grace the place he used to embrace.
 
Our literary efforts may or may not earn us a concrete memorial or a statue in our local park, but it's something to strive for.  Next time you're thinking that writing is a monumental task, celebrate the fact that it actually could be.

Personally, I'd be happy if they'd just name a candy bar after me.  I like to think they already have.