An idea that fixed him to one spot was that life was a death dance and that he had quickly passed through the spring and summer of his life and was halfway through the fall. He had to do a better job on the fall because everyone on earth knew what the winter was like.
- Jim Harrison, Farmer
I don't know that I'm halfway through the fall, but I'm definitely in the fall. And I've got to do a better job. There'll probably be two posts a week here for awhile; no more of this every-day-nonsense.
JK, the book agent, believes a fiction piece I've started has the potential to be the next, well, something. He's not alone. When I woke up that day and said hey, why don't I quit everything I've known and try and be a writer, I never considered fiction my genre. Writers use words like genre quite a bit. But a nanosecond's reflection and I'm very aware that fiction has held my heart captive for years. Maybe now, in the fall of my life, it's time to give in. Everyone knows what winter is like.
So, I'll continue to post here a couple of days a week, maybe more if I should win the lottery or discover I'm pregnant or something. But the other mornings, I've got to do better, I've got to put my hand to this plow called story and try and run the rows. If you think about it, I'd appreciate you saying a prayer or lighting a candle or whirling a dervish for me. The spring and summer have passed. I'm hoping this is a golden time for me, for her, for the three who call me dad.
One of my favorite fiction writers, Wallace Stegner, said we write fiction to tell the truth. Amen, Wallace. Amen. I shared that quote with a friend not long ago and he said what? but fiction's not true, right? Some will not understand. But the fall is not a time for catering or convincing; that's what summer strength is for. No, the autumn is time for changing, gradually, briefly, into something distinct. Winter's coming.