I was never a great student during my Primary Education and while I am told that in my early education, the school I attended had tried out some ‘new’ teaching methods on my class and then promptly abandoned them the following year, leaving us without a foundation for the old system, the rest of the children didn’t seem to have an issue, but I struggled. Struggled and struggled, right through High School. My two worst subjects were Science and English and to this day I joke that English is my second language as I will never pretend to understand its complexity. So where does one come up with a passion for something they have little knowledge of and why would someone attempt to dedicate their life to pursuing a career at it?
Oddly enough, it began almost four decades earlier just three doors down to the south of me from where I sit right now. Struggling in High School, I was failing at a number of subjects and I’d not be graduating with my class the following year if I did not crack down. I like that term – Crack Down, because when someone is struggling to understand and simply does not get it, it is of course, the students fault. They are just not taking it seriously. Hopefully the education system today has improved some and kids like me are not trampled over, but lucky for me I was forced to attend summer school only it would not be at my school, but rather three and a half hours to the north at my families vacation home on Lake St. Catherine.
It was the summer of 1982 and all I wanted to do was enjoy my summer, but instead, I’d have to ‘go to school’. Math and Science would be taught to me by my immediate neighbor who by chance was a NY Certified teacher and English would be taught to me by a woman in town who was also certified in NY. The nice part was that having just earned my drivers license, I would get to drive myself to her house and back so I did look forward to that.
My biggest problem with English, besides not understanding its rules was that I didn’t like to read – or so I thought, but I was about to be blessed with a teacher who would think outside of the box and actually get through to me. And so it began, almost four decades ago.
She began by getting me to read. Not text books or teen books. Nope, she knew how to get through my walls. I loved cars, what teen boy doesn’t? I subscribed to many car magazines and she saw that as the key. Yes, she used Car & Driver, Hot Rod Magazine and many others to get me to read. I’d have to write book reports on the articles I read. A book report on the latest car build! How awesome was that, but it worked. I was years behind my fellow students and she had to make up for the failure in just 2 short months and she was doing great and then it was time. I had to break free of the magazines and begin to write about things – thoughts – ideas. And so it began.
Struggling with this new task she gave me a simple exercise; Go out to the lake and tell me what you see. Put those words on paper and bring it back the next day. So there I was, sitting on the hill overlooking the lake and I began to write about what I saw in front of me. It worked! It also stuck with me. I loved it, she loved it and I eventually made it through that summer and school and graduated with some very nice grades, but I was done with school for I felt it failed me and I would not be returning to a classroom anytime soon. No, my classroom was out here – in nature. This is where I will learn about life. Well, that is where it began and that passion never left me. It was put aside for a long time though I did enjoy writing letters to pen pals, bu eventually life gets in the way of passion and that passion died out, or so I thought.
The Spark was back, but not for long:
My next venture into writing began when I started an Employee Newsletter for work. I was the Editor (I am so not an editor), Publisher and Writer. I did the layout, the content placement and so forth. I was enjoying using this new ‘computer’ and listening to the dot matrix printer hammer out my work, but when my folks retired, the business closed up and so did my job.
In 2003 I entered the Real Estate market. Something that I had wanted to do for a while and finally took the leap jumping in with both feet, I was soon sinking, but I learned to swim and eventually had my own real estate brokerage by 2006. One thing I had wanted to do from the first day in Real Estate was to talk about it on this new platform – The Blog, but my broker at the time was reluctant to allow me such freedom so I started a Newsletter. I began, like before, publishing a monthly newsletter and it was a hit. This time my audience was not employees held hostage to my words, but neighbors, friends, current and former clients and it was a hit. They loved getting my monthly newsletter right up until the day the local Board of Realtors told me I could no longer talk about the market, talk about others listings – which were always in a positive light with full credit given to the listing agent. Nope, only they could release market data. So as quickly as it began, it yet again ended.
With the birth of Facebook, I found a new platform where I could write and anyone who follows me on Facebook will tell you, I am a postoholic. I even began a Facebook page for my little dog Lexie and people from all over the world would converse with her directly, but it wasn’t until I took a cross country trip in a newly acquired 1978 VW Bus, that I began my personal blog.
This blog began as a way for my family whom was not on Facebook and non Facebook friend to follow along on our travels, but what I never expected was the number of people who loved my writing. Wordy as it may be, punctuation errors and all, they were enjoying my style and that little spark that I though died out so long ago was back. This time there was no one in my way, but me. No one to stop me, no one to dictate what I could or could not write about, but we are our own worst enemy.
In 2012 I sold the lease to my Real Estate office in NY as well as my Property Management contracts and moved to Vermont as a temporary housing situation while I prepared to acquire a sail boat and move to Stamford Connecticut to both live on and learn to sail. I had already secured office space there for my Connecticut Real Estate and Property Management business, but things would soon fall apart and I would, as I joke, become Stuck in Vermont. I should have jumped on the opportunity then, but instead I simply dabbled in Real Estate back in New York while I figured out what it was I really wanted to do. I’ve stuck my hands into many things in the meantime. Construction, Garage Sales, Online sales, I still had my motorcycle parts business bring in some income, but nothing was truly in my heart except for writing.
A year ago last month I went to a writers symposium in the village of East Poultney just down the road from me which also happens to be the town where Horace Greeley began his apprenticeship. Yes, THE Horace Greeley! My spark began to grow but I was still holding onto the past, that was until yesterday.
Struggling with the task of nursing Lexie during her battle with Mast Cell Cancer, wondering what I will do when she is gone, how will I cope and where will I go, I was literally in Limbo and being in limbo is not good if you stay there to long. Then yesterday, while laying paver stones in an intricate pattern which caused me to be in a Zen like state it hit me…like a brick 😉
I am where I need to be!
This is where I fell in love with writing, this is where I am at peace. My only distraction is Facebook and if I can manage that, I can get to work writing. Yes Writing, really writing. Not Blogging, not Journaling, but actually writing. I have a dozen or more stories in my head at any given time, but I need to approach this as a business, just as I had done with all my other businesses. I need to jump in with both feet – Sink or Swim Larry – and just like that the path was clear, the decision made and I cut the strings to the past, turned the page and today I begin to take writing seriously. This is no longer a hobby, it is now my job.
Today I am a writer…
Now to get busy putting these stories down in print because writers are everywhere, my goal is to become a Published Writer.
