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An Abbreviated Though Strangely Satisfying Picture

 

For some reason people want to know something about the people they follow; the path taken. Was it typical, "less followed", guarded in some way...or unique.

I can't guarantee unique, but originality is a personal goal.

The reason I write this blog, and others their's, is to make a connection. No one (okay very few) writes just to hear themselves talk (or, more appropriately, see their words on a screen). I guess for a connection to be real though you actually should feel that you have some idea who your are connecting to (or with). Some actually have to like him or her (though it is not strictly required for a group to accept the offerings from one another--it helps,  but is not a requirement). Well, this him is about to expound on his favorite subject and allow the passerby a brief sketch of the artist that I believe is me. My selfish hope is like, but I will settle for attendance.

To my story then...

Neosho, Missouri is a very small town in the extreme Southwest corner of the state where a little hospital shook to the cries of your blogger on March 21, 1966. It was midnight when the event occurred an appropriate time as it turned out. I have often felt as though I was caught between times (my dad said I was born on the 20th, the doctor recorded, and I celebrate, the 21st), so I am true to the date and time.

My parents moved to Kansas City (n whose area I lived until I was 21), directly after my birth. I grew up in a suburb called Claycomo (which as it happens is in Clay County MO) until  the age of nine, then was forced into the country surrounding the hamlet of Excelsior Springs (a bedroom farming community linked to Kansas City as well). The farm was boring and tiring at first, but my three brothers and I soon joyed in the woods and farm life. I cannot say honestly that I liked the drudgery of the farm at the time, but it has grown on me. Spending many years in cities has cured me of ever wanting to leave the country again.

At 21, I entered the Navy. I had previously been in the Air Force reserves, but they were going to make me keep a menial job they had trained me for if I went active, so I crossed them by entering the active Naval force in an occupation more suited, or so I thought, to my intellect. I became a Naval Nuclear Technician (they said engineer, but though I had extensive training, I was no engineer). The Navy, where I spent more than nine years, was a job...nothing more. It was a job where my performance was average, and where I felt stifled. In my nine years, I was stationed in: Orlando, FL; Balston Spa, NY; Norfolk/Newport News, VA; and, Groton, CT. I got out and went to school for something more attuned to my capability and taste.

After the Navy, I went to Southern Illinois University in Carbondale and received a Master's degree in mental health and substance abuse counseling. Oh, the stories I could tell (and probably will...names of the innocent redacted of course) of my years as a counselor. From 2000 until 2007 I worked for various nonprofits (all in California where I moved after school) and saw all manner of diagnoses and condition. It was not a boring job, but I had always had a dream, so again I left.

I moved back to Missouri amidst a messy "friendship" (mostly my doing) and tried to find something in the counseling line. I discovered that finding a job similar to the one I had left in California was impossible, so I worked at Home Depot for a little while until I finally decided to take a plunge. I became a full time freelance writer on December 8, 2008. Though close to an infamous date, it has not proven itself to be one at all.

Now this course of action has led me through scads of ups and downs over the past 5+ years, but I have done something I now realize I should have broached from my infancy. I should have always followed my dreams. It is not easy to leave the security of a bi-monthly paycheck to test the unknown seas of doing it yourself, but I had immense support. My parents (primarily) and the rest of my family helped me when I needed it and now I stand at the precipice again.

I am shortly going to move from the now secure waters of freelancing into the dangerous storm that awaits all self-published authors.

If you have read this far, know that my first book will magically appear on Amazon around the first day of June (2014). It is a (or "an" for those who want to sound smart) historical series about a young lady and her growing pains...and yes...it is somewhat romantic as all such tales probably are. It is set in Salem, AR (where I now live) in 1850...approximately.

The further telling of this tale will have to await the entrance of one Gurly Greene.

Thank you for reading this long-winded, though necessarily abbreviated, glance at my life. I hope you will visit often and get to know the person behind the blog posts as they will always provide the reader a new sense of the author.

Enjoy.