Assuming you work days, there is a strong possibility that you might have a special connection to a second job that keeps you "in the running" financially speaking. The extra money earned does not always have to treated like it's your lifesaver. Some of that money should be going to a worthy cause, such as your retirement, or toward education (typical) or toward writing your way toward a new lifestyle, which is what you see demonstrated here.
I never worked so hard in my life as I did on the novel I just completed a few days ago. The only way I could have made it to the last page of the last chapter was to (you guessed it) quit my day job. Yes, I am a little poorer than I would have been if I remained enslaved to an occupation that does not need my blood; but, I am a lot richer in the sense that I am now a bona fide author...soon to be a published author! That's a powerful thing to say. Writing was my "night job" for more than three years, folks. I will be rich and famous some day because I never quit.
The business of writing for fun and profit appeals to me because it gives me the opportunity to imagine things are happening (that aren't really happening), and nobody calls the padded wagon! It's a pretty neat position to be in and I recommend it highly to anyone who has a story worth telling.
Hudster
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Finishing Touches
I think it would be a good idea if academic degrees were conferred, conditionally. One of the conditions being that we all write a short story about our lives when we reach a certain age, say, fifty. My finite wisdom has expanded noticeably since I became a serious writer, and I suspect the world would be a lot more interesting (and safer?) if every adult was required to pen their histories for posterity.
"Stock Power (The Novel)" became a life's work nearly two years ago when I envisioned the commercial value it might have when it finally gets published - sometime in March. Coincidental to the advent of the new year, I have been able to assess my outlook from an improved perspective. Since the day I wrote the first paragraph of my story, I have learned a lot about what drives drives me crazy, gets my goat, makes me tick.
Of course, a novel is a serious venture, especially if you want people to pay to read it. However, the process of putting something in writing after it swirls around in your mind is a fantastic thing! I'll take a minute and give you an example of what I mean.
I wrote about a woman I met toward the end of the story I'm writing. I described my feelings toward her along with the special moments we had together over the course of our eighteen month love affair. Trying to make it interesting for someone else to read was fun and challenging.
Last night, I read a passage from that section, for the first time in three months. Wow! I had overlooked the importance of the love affair. The greatest value of the relationship, for me, was in the fact that it could never last! In real life, I went overboard trying to make something work that had no chance of enduring a lengthy absense (the story's crisis). After I thought about if for a couple days, I was able to describe my motivation more honestly and with greater insight.
As a direct result from the effort that I have put into this project, my awareness of how I think and where my motivation comes from, has increased greatly.
Picture this: a notice comes to your mailbox in a large yellow envelope marked "URGENT". You open the envelope to discover that you are more than 30 days past due on a mandatory writing assignment. Subject: "What do you think you're doing with your life?" You're exempt if you write a novel.
Would that work for you?
BH
"Stock Power (The Novel)" became a life's work nearly two years ago when I envisioned the commercial value it might have when it finally gets published - sometime in March. Coincidental to the advent of the new year, I have been able to assess my outlook from an improved perspective. Since the day I wrote the first paragraph of my story, I have learned a lot about what drives drives me crazy, gets my goat, makes me tick.
Of course, a novel is a serious venture, especially if you want people to pay to read it. However, the process of putting something in writing after it swirls around in your mind is a fantastic thing! I'll take a minute and give you an example of what I mean.
I wrote about a woman I met toward the end of the story I'm writing. I described my feelings toward her along with the special moments we had together over the course of our eighteen month love affair. Trying to make it interesting for someone else to read was fun and challenging.
Last night, I read a passage from that section, for the first time in three months. Wow! I had overlooked the importance of the love affair. The greatest value of the relationship, for me, was in the fact that it could never last! In real life, I went overboard trying to make something work that had no chance of enduring a lengthy absense (the story's crisis). After I thought about if for a couple days, I was able to describe my motivation more honestly and with greater insight.
As a direct result from the effort that I have put into this project, my awareness of how I think and where my motivation comes from, has increased greatly.
Picture this: a notice comes to your mailbox in a large yellow envelope marked "URGENT". You open the envelope to discover that you are more than 30 days past due on a mandatory writing assignment. Subject: "What do you think you're doing with your life?" You're exempt if you write a novel.
Would that work for you?
BH
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Terra Firma
I believe it's one thing to make a costly mistake that most people wouldn't dream of making; but it's quite a different side of the coin to pick one's self up and begin a new journey. Leaving a sandpit of deprivation, demoralization and remorse to embark on a life devoid of callousness and nacisicm, is my most recent accomplishement; and I hope to build on it.
I have learned a lot about myself in the past two years during which, I made a commitment to finish an important project. The new discovery is that I need a challenge in order to preserve a sense of self worth. That is part and parcel of who I am, and I cannot change it.
Contributing to the community, my church and family are all well and good; while these deeds migjht be honorable, I view them as simplistic. My idea of personal growth is to solve new problems without cheating.
I want to help others make corrections, take new strides and rise over the adversities that can be construed as insurmountable.
Depression is an enemy that has sapped the energy of a great number of people who grapple with their talents and ambitions. I struggle with the realization that my goals are still distant, but I will persist. Past achievements give me the confidence to forge ahead to new heights. This time around, I hope to keep my spirituality in tact.
It's a challenge. I wouldn't have it any other way.
BH
I have learned a lot about myself in the past two years during which, I made a commitment to finish an important project. The new discovery is that I need a challenge in order to preserve a sense of self worth. That is part and parcel of who I am, and I cannot change it.
Contributing to the community, my church and family are all well and good; while these deeds migjht be honorable, I view them as simplistic. My idea of personal growth is to solve new problems without cheating.
I want to help others make corrections, take new strides and rise over the adversities that can be construed as insurmountable.
Depression is an enemy that has sapped the energy of a great number of people who grapple with their talents and ambitions. I struggle with the realization that my goals are still distant, but I will persist. Past achievements give me the confidence to forge ahead to new heights. This time around, I hope to keep my spirituality in tact.
It's a challenge. I wouldn't have it any other way.
BH
A Look Behind The Story
About thirty years ago, someone asked me if I would be interested in training to become a stockbroker. I told them, "No way! A stockbroker is a car salesman wearing an expensive suit," I quipped.
In 1999, a 12-year career on Wall Street came to an abrupt end. I had served hundreds of investors and enjoyed a fairly exemplary reputation for being a "cut above" in my field. A small number of clients thought I had wings. The time flew by quickly as I attempted to compete for larger accounts in an environment that rewarded tenacity.
My business plan worked a little too well. I wanted to reach a certain status in 10 years. It didn't really take that long. My market grew from being confined to the New York City area to a definable range between Rochester and Fort Lauderdale.
In the latter months of my tenure in the investment world, I fell into a trap that has been publicized too often in the news media. Competition for money and prestige took my mind into the evil cravasses of lust and self-aggrandisement. My vision was distorted by several distractions, including acceptance in a new, upscale community. My sense of morality gave way to an insatiable desire to acquire wealth. The fraud and deceit that I commited seemed miniscule, compared to the prize that I construed to be sufficient justification.
Eventually my tumultuous lifestyle came to an uncomfortable halt the day I was sent off to a state facility to ponder my misdeeds. That day marked the beginning of my recovery from a warped, myopic view of the value of money.
I began with a diary, at first, because I knew I wanted to write a book about my experience.
In 1999, a 12-year career on Wall Street came to an abrupt end. I had served hundreds of investors and enjoyed a fairly exemplary reputation for being a "cut above" in my field. A small number of clients thought I had wings. The time flew by quickly as I attempted to compete for larger accounts in an environment that rewarded tenacity.
My business plan worked a little too well. I wanted to reach a certain status in 10 years. It didn't really take that long. My market grew from being confined to the New York City area to a definable range between Rochester and Fort Lauderdale.
In the latter months of my tenure in the investment world, I fell into a trap that has been publicized too often in the news media. Competition for money and prestige took my mind into the evil cravasses of lust and self-aggrandisement. My vision was distorted by several distractions, including acceptance in a new, upscale community. My sense of morality gave way to an insatiable desire to acquire wealth. The fraud and deceit that I commited seemed miniscule, compared to the prize that I construed to be sufficient justification.
Eventually my tumultuous lifestyle came to an uncomfortable halt the day I was sent off to a state facility to ponder my misdeeds. That day marked the beginning of my recovery from a warped, myopic view of the value of money.
I began with a diary, at first, because I knew I wanted to write a book about my experience.
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