Greg was studying for law. Dick was studying for pharmacy. Russ was studying for accounting. Sonny was studying for medicine. Jack was studying for teaching. Ron was studying for business.
What was I doing there? I didn’t have a clue about what I was going to do. So I left college and got a job and enrolled in night school and took a course in Theatre. The professor assigned us to write a term paper at the end of the semester. I asked him if, instead, I could write a play. He said yes. I was elated and wrote a great play. He gave me an A on the play and an A on the course. The he asked me to come to his office one night after school to discuss my work. I thought I was on my way to starting a writing career. That’s when I fell in love with writing. But it didn’t last long.
When I got to his office he asked me to come home with him! I ran out of his office and it sank in that I got my A’s not because I was a great writer, but because my professor was trying to seduce me! I reread my play and, in the sobriety of daylight, realized that I had re-written The Glass Menagerie! It was a third floor apartment next to the Sixth Avenue El. Every time the train came through everything in the apartment rattled. Sound familiar?
So I fell out of love with writing and went on with my life.
About 30 years later my career came to a successful close, my children were gone and my wife was still very busy with her career. I was toying around with a few projects when I hit a bump in the road; I needed some serious surgery. Fortunately it wasn’t life threatening, but nevertheless the recuperation period was extensive and very quiet. That’s when I got to thinking and … writing!
First it was politics. But that was boring to everyone else but me. Then I hit on an idea for a story and started writing … and writing … and writing. Novels, short stories (a few published in newspapers), all fiction. I loved it. It was entertaining and vented my hunger for expressiveness.
I LOVED IT!
An agent actually took me on– bless his soul. He was enthusiastic about my writing and submitted my manuscripts to his publishing contacts. He was very disappointed with the rejection letters. I had to console him. “I had high hopes for you…”
So I continued to slug it out with the gods of rejection and wrote and studied and submitted and papered the walls with the rejection letters. And today I am a happy man, in love with my work: writing.
