Once again, the time is imminent.
After months of interrupted effort, the latest scrawl transmogrifies to the point of publication readiness. At least, close enough to it by estimation of its author.
A fellow known for being loose with such interpretations, the reader is thus considered forewarned. While neither requested nor necessary, also provided here is explanation for disavowing earlier claims swearing off publication of future tomes.
Let it not be said a man was unaware of his numerous contradictions.
For like many blessed with an addictive personality, quitting one bad habit often requires collecting a replacement for it. Whether in the form of continuing education, new employment, treatment programs, recreational activities, or emotional entanglement, the cure most times can prove as dangerous as the illness.
A man hopes most for improvement in selecting these compulsions though neither trial nor error has so far proven foolproof.
History meanwhile, documents the factual basis of the above-stated opinion. In justification to myself alone however, the facts provide opportunity to continue delivery of unwanted literary effort to an unsuspecting world.
To be succinct, so long as a writer demands no remuneration for his time, the novels break even on their publication expenses.
I will state here for posterity I do not, for either its own sake or as result of acquired habit, like work. In fact, despite a reputation for doing plenty, that time is better spent avoiding it has been a consistent philosophical position in these parts.
A man however, does need something to do.
That lesson I received as a gift from my father, for whose unvarnished wisdom I remain ever grateful. As result, the only factually magical experience of which I have been party to, draws remarkably close.
As for this writer, his work alone provides the respite from a host of unrepentant maladies.
I thus remain more grateful for the freedom discovered on the written page than for anything beyond family in this most fortunate of lives. From the earliest boy’s poems to the many young man’s short stories, through the countless songs of Harwill to these few novels I’ve been fortunate to complete, only writing has ever satisfied an unyielding desire.
Now as ever, I remain as relieved as I am convinced it has been my purpose.
Though perhaps, more grateful now to have received it than in my youth. For there were long days when such an intensely experienced psychological burden was beyond my capacity to bear. In those times, my father’s wisdom would help me see what mattered personally, in fact, not philosophy.
For eventually, a man with something to do will find his way.
A man does his best to thank his dad for such gifts, daily if possible, but always when recalling the countless experiences of wonder, grace or brutality this life has so far provided. As in the writer’s never-ending work is found not only purpose, but freedom ever-lasting.
The big news here is a planned series of novels, with the first of them set for publication on or around the usual date later in the calendar year. Featuring an unmistakeably western Canadian private investigator named Mac Armstrong, watch the blog this summer for more news about ‘The Recalcitrant P.I.’.
To all who visit here or might read these occasional words, to those who review a novel or offer a word of support, know you, too, are the source of endless gratitude.
Thanks for sharing the blog.
- TFPJuly 14, 2018