Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Inspiration Doesn't Last Forever
The inspiration to write a novel entered into my being in Aug. 2008 around the time I retired. I was thinking about what differentiated sense, from nonsense and senselessness which led me, naturally, to think about my life. The hope of writing a novel slowly progressed from a possibility to an actuality. I was going to write a trilogy to be complete by 2010. It took me until Feb. 2011 to finish the first novel Drunken Duck and get it published. The story has many touch-points of what happened in my life beginning when I was eight years old in 1953 through 1966, but much of it is pure fiction or added on fiction to what actually occurred. I still haven't been able to make any headway to my satisfaction in the writing of the other two novels of my hoped for trio. By May of this year, my 67th year on this Earth, the inspiration disappeared and left my spirit drained. Seeking new avenues of artistic inspiration seems futile.
I wish I could find the motivation to write another novel or perhaps better said the tenacity but I have lost the inspiration to do so and have finally realized this very day that it will never return. But, then think, "Dum spiro, spero."