Inside Billy’s Brain
I'll finish with a little note I scribbled to myself a long time ago. It sits on my desk, but has never been used until now.
“Funny how things go, my eyes are just beginning to open, when they’re just beginning to close.”
I heard or read this quote a couple of decades ago that said, “The surest way to lose family members or friends was to become a writer.” I didn’t understand it very much then, but the possibilities are becoming clearer as time progresses.
There is sometimes a “Love Her a Lot, Love Her a Little Bit Less” relationship that happens in our home when I hand over an article for her to critique and edit. Regina does an excellent job with the nuts and bolts editing – thank you Regina, but Margaret does the honest heartfelt telling it like it is part that can dampen an otherwise jovial spirit. She gets the first read and educates me on the parameters allowed. The advice I seek is genuinely solicited and appreciated and thusly, unflinchingly given straight forward, mostly tender.
It’s been a couple of years now since I started submitting pieces to the Republican, along with some other local publishers, but far and away, it has been the Osmond publication where it has become a standard. *I hope it isn’t out of pity. And that it continues.
The main goal, besides just the shear enjoyment of doing it, has been to practice my skill/talent or luck – or whatever you wish to call it, and to become more proficient on the keypad as well as hopefully to gain a future audience for larger literary works. Win, lose or draw, following a dream is never a bad thing.
The piece I turned in this afternoon to Mrs. Ryan was met with a fair amount of skepticism and woe…or rather Whoa! As in no. “Why!?” I asked, as I reheated some pulled pork pot pie I cobbled together last evening.
"You're going to ruffle feathers and it's not your style. It's not what your readers want,” she said. “You said last week that you loved Osmond.”
I replied, “That is correct.” “Well this doesn’t show it,” she retorted, waving the printed copy at me. “Dammit!” I was in disbelief. As I lean back in the Lazy Boy trying not to scald my tongue or lips on the overheated concoction of excellence, we discuss the pros and cons of the current article in question along with several others that have been shelved.
The subjects could range from the absurd to the exotic to the deep psychological abnormalities that bounce around in my head; or perhaps in other people’s heads with whom I come into contact. Thoughts and comments that are in contention with the current thinking of the readership at large, or any relay of actual local events that could frighten or irritate the populace are ill advised.
So I humbly ask you for your preferences. There isn’t anything too much beyond the pale that I don’t or haven’t thought about, but actually putting it down on paper is extremely unlikely. Examples are varied and numerous, such as: Slice of Life: Turning down a Hollywood starlet’s invitation to go dancing. Humor: Hitting on a pretty girl from grade school at a funeral in K.C. who happened to be a nun. Political: Saddened that 47 out of 47 spineless Democrats voted the party line against Pete Hegseth for Secretary of Defense. Surely somebody in that crowd has danced on the table with a lampshade on their head. Hypothetical: Extraterrestrials write stories for newspapers. All In a Day’s Work: Vaguely retelling conversations overheard on the school bus.
Confidentiality is key. Or Local: School Consolidation.
Do you want to laugh, or cry, or ponder an idea? Do you want opinion, historical factoids relative to today’s world, or the complete utter destruction of a new social moray that threatens our future? I have briefcases and computer file folders full of topics. What say you? Variety is the spice of life and my moods alternate, but I adjust well when needed.
Send me an email at [email protected] and let me know.
