A Writing Life (Part 21)

There is one final problem that is clear by now: you have never heard of me. I have had only a few things published (nothing that would give me any sort of fame worth the time needed to write about how I created different types of poems, stories, articles, essays, reports, plays and so on). Also, I have only skimmed the surface, as they say. Very little of what I have written here hints at any of the incidents in my life that were not directly related to writing and literature. There were many moments that led me to choose pen and paper as my method of communicating my feelings and responses. This work would be open to anyone willing to read my thoughts and ideas. Some of those moments are painful; others still make me laugh when I recall them. I do have many stories to tell and I see what I have written here as a sort of leap of faith; a promise to do something worthy of this very slight examination. If more of my work is allowed the exposure that I hope it receives and deserves, this effort will not seem so unnecessary and redundant. My wish remains to have this accepted after my other work has had some success. This is simply a step to something bigger than my own personal best.

It seems right that the last entry of this piece is coming out on Bloomsday.  Fellow Ulysseans, Re-Joyce!