When I was younger, I wrote a book called “Glory Daze.” It was not just about my childhood; it delved deeply into my life experiences, challenges, and the lessons I learned leading up to that point. I was about 25 years old when it was written, full of youthful ambition and raw emotion, eager to share my story with the world and hoping to inspire others who faced their own struggles.
At the time, I attempted to publish it, pouring my heart into crafting the perfect narrative that captured the essence of my journey. Each page was filled with vivid memories and reflections that shaped who I was becoming. I envisioned readers connecting with my vulnerabilities, my triumphs, and the moments that shaped me. It was a raw and genuine effort to lay bare my soul in hopes of forming a connection with others who might feel isolated in their challenges.
However, the road to publication was not seamless. I was given an offer from a publishing house, which I ultimately turned down because they wanted me to shorten the book from almost 300 pages (I know, crazy!) to a mere 150 pages. This felt like a betrayal of my voice and the richness of the story I wanted to tell. I believed every chapter contained essential insights and reflections that deserved to be shared in their entirety. The notion of condensing my experiences into such a truncated format felt like it would erase parts of who I was and what I aimed to convey.
I couldn’t fathom cutting it down so drastically, and that moment became a pivotal decision point in my life. It left me grappling with the impact of that choice for years to come. There are not many things I regret in this life, but this is definitely in the top 3. Had I just put my 25-year-old ego in check, I could have had a life that resembled what I dreamed about as a child. I often think about how that decision altered the course of my journey, leaving me with lingering questions of “what if.”
Not to say my life turned out horribly, because I am lucky and blessed for many reasons, but being a writer was always something I wanted to do professionally. It was a goal that seemed unattainable after I turned down that publishing house. The weight of that choice has stayed with me, haunting me at times, reminding me that sometimes, the greatest risks can lead to the most fulfilling paths. Yet, in my case, it felt like I had forfeited my chance at a dream I cherished deeply.
Fast forward to about a week ago, as I was digging through a box that I have yet to unpack from our move 7 months ago. Among the disarray, I stumbled upon my manuscript of the book, my “poor man’s copyright” version, along with an old hard drive that contained the digital version. Honestly, I hadn’t read it in probably 20 years, so the curiosity struck me, and I thought, “Eh, why not crack this open and see what’s on this drive?”
I brought it into the house, popped it into my Mac, and opened it up. Wow! First, I still think it is a good piece of writing, even if I am biased. 🙂 Second, as I began to read, I realized that it was way too long and filled with a 25-year-old’s vision of what the world was. Boy, was I arrogant! I could see the youthful confidence in my prose, the idealism that only comes with being that age, and it prompted reflections on how much I had matured since then.
Looking back, there was beauty in that youthful ambition and energy, but there was also a naivety that mirrored my understanding of the world. The manuscript served as a time capsule of sorts, taking me back to a period in my life filled with hope, dreams, and a passion for storytelling that was palpable. Re-reading the words I had poured onto the page evoked a sense of nostalgia, coupled with the realization of how my perspective has evolved over the years. It reignited that desire within me to share my story, but with a new understanding of how to convey those experiences authentically and concisely.
This journey hasn’t ended; it has transformed and offered a fresh insight into what it means to be a writer. It has reminded me that every story holds value, every experience shapes us, and sometimes, revisiting the past can reignite the embers of our dreams. So, I have decided to brush it off, tweak it a bit and go for it again! Since I have limited free time, this will need to be a project that I work on in drips and drabs and it will most likely take quite a while to complete. I am more than OK with that timeline, and honestly it is giving me a new sense of excitement that I feel has been missing from my life for a while.
Here is a snippet of the opening paragraphs for your reading enjoyment. 🙂 Feel free to send me some feedback, or thoughts.
“In the summer of 1985, the thick, muggy air poured through the lowered front windows of our bright blue Ford Maverick as we sped down the road toward Boiling Springs Lakes, North Carolina. “One Night in Bangkok” blared from the sound system while my father, Greg, drove much too fast along the dark, one-lane highway through the Dismal Swamp.
My mother, Gail, always prone to nervousness, was especially on edge tonight. As Greg teased her, recklessly swerving the car and even turning off the headlights, her screams rose above the blaring music. “Greg, slow down!” she shrieked. My brother and I, crammed into the backseat with our mid-sized dog, Lucy, laughed at the chaotic scene unfolding before us.
As “Walk Like an Egyptian” began to play, Greg’s driving somehow became even more erratic. He was now dancing out the driver’s side window, much to my mother’s horror. “Greg, stop dancing! Pay attention to the road! Turn the headlights back on!” she pleaded, her voice rising in panic. He finally relented, just as a truly awful smell filled the car. “Who is farting?!” my dad demanded, turning down the music. I, of course, blamed Lucy, even though I knew full well it was me. My dad pulled over and unceremoniously kicked the dog out, assuming she needed to relieve herself. I, meanwhile, was in hysterics in the back seat, listening to them all plead with poor Lucy to “Go potty!”
That is all I will share for now, but this will be a fun adventure for me! Cathartic, exciting, revealing, and any other word I can think of to describe a great experience. 🙂
Have a great weekend!
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