"To Open With..."
From the 23rd floor of a Laughlin, Nevada, hotel room I am staring out at the brown stretch of scrub that leads to the bare mountains marking the horizon. My head is tinged with a slight hangover ache and the bedside table is nicely burdened with $48, representing the $28 in winnings I’ve earned against a damnable 25-cent poker machine. I am giddy knowing that, if I leave now, I will be ahead for the first time in 30 years of gambling trips. Of course, I’ve got the room for two more nights, which has been billed to my credit card. So, in fact, I would end up in the hole if I skedaddled. The casinos have screwed me again.
But the searing human drama so inherent in my predicament compels me to tell the world my story. I could write a book – a memoir of sorts, or perhaps a stylishly impressionistic novel. But that takes so long, and would the publishing establishment appreciate my unique voice and point of view? There is the “self-publishing” route. That, though, is looked upon with derision by most in the know as “vanity.” And, again, it takes so long to write a book.
So I will start a blog! That’s the ticket. A bl ... well, I don’t know what the “b” stands for, but I know it’s some kind of a log, on the internet. A diary, so to speak. A place to share one’s life and its striking moments, and to comment on the world at large. Sure, it’s kind of like publishing yourself, but I think it’s free, I’m not “paying” to share my worldview. I’m very comfortable with that.
Still, does the world need one more blog? I hear there are quite a few out in the “ethernet.” But I really couldn’t tell you, since I’ve never seen one, though I read an interesting story about the phenomenon in an old copy of Modern Maturity at the dentist’s office. And, truth be told, I don’t feel an overwhelming need to express my opinions or detail my daily comings and goings. For instance, I can’t think of a thing more to say about Laughlin, other than the buffet last night was quite good, except for the catfish nuggets (too mushy).
I do, though, have a few pieces I’ve written over the years, various projects that, for one reason or another, have been consistently rejected, even by the tiniest, stupidest, most incompetent weekly rags and obscure trade journals. I mean, what the hell else am I gonna do with this stuff? Include it with my annual Christmas letter? Nah. Here, then, is my career, I guess, for what it’s worth. (All material on this blog, Copyright, Chris Callard, 2006)
But the searing human drama so inherent in my predicament compels me to tell the world my story. I could write a book – a memoir of sorts, or perhaps a stylishly impressionistic novel. But that takes so long, and would the publishing establishment appreciate my unique voice and point of view? There is the “self-publishing” route. That, though, is looked upon with derision by most in the know as “vanity.” And, again, it takes so long to write a book.
So I will start a blog! That’s the ticket. A bl ... well, I don’t know what the “b” stands for, but I know it’s some kind of a log, on the internet. A diary, so to speak. A place to share one’s life and its striking moments, and to comment on the world at large. Sure, it’s kind of like publishing yourself, but I think it’s free, I’m not “paying” to share my worldview. I’m very comfortable with that.
Still, does the world need one more blog? I hear there are quite a few out in the “ethernet.” But I really couldn’t tell you, since I’ve never seen one, though I read an interesting story about the phenomenon in an old copy of Modern Maturity at the dentist’s office. And, truth be told, I don’t feel an overwhelming need to express my opinions or detail my daily comings and goings. For instance, I can’t think of a thing more to say about Laughlin, other than the buffet last night was quite good, except for the catfish nuggets (too mushy).
I do, though, have a few pieces I’ve written over the years, various projects that, for one reason or another, have been consistently rejected, even by the tiniest, stupidest, most incompetent weekly rags and obscure trade journals. I mean, what the hell else am I gonna do with this stuff? Include it with my annual Christmas letter? Nah. Here, then, is my career, I guess, for what it’s worth. (All material on this blog, Copyright, Chris Callard, 2006)
posted by Chris Callard | 8:21 PM
3 Comments:
Hey,
We can always use another Blog to read. Look forward to your stuff.
Liked it.
You are a fantastic writer, who has an amazing way of expressing some things or topics that would otherwise be mundane to me, but are exciting to others no matter who writes it. This is the gift you have; and it surely would and should sell journals, newspapers, magazines etc. Those who turn down your work, will be like the publisher that YOU interviewed and wrote about, and will regret it many years later.
Your ability to interest me in the topics of
1. A specific tropical flower
2. An Actress
3. A legendary Publisher
4. Domesticated wild animals
5. 20th Century American composer
is beyond my ability to explain or describe. Obviously I am not a writer, or else I could! I had no interest in these subjects, but soon found myself deep within your literary displays. I read them, originally, only to find a 'taste' of your style and ability. I am very impressed. I have no clue why anyone would turn down such a talent.
May your work blossom continually
Respectfully,
Jeanetta (Aka Pepper )
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