The Writing Affliction

As a writer, I have decided writing is an affliction, a state of being that, nonetheless, can be contagious.

I started writing short stories while in high school, through my college years, and into my pre-marriage years. I never once thought about publishing. During the trials of parenthood, while driving the kids from one place to another, my daughter would demand I tell her a story, but it had to be original. 

I did have a ready-made cast of characters—all cats—named Whitie, Blackie, Orange Juice, and Dumptruck. Eventually, there was a fifth character. As I was telling a story, we approached a railroad crossing as the gate came down. Emily said, “Oow, train!” Being a short train, soon the last car passed us, and she said, “Caboose.”  Thirty seconds later, the new character in the story bore the name “Oowtraincabosse.”

Those car stories became the seeds for my first two novels, A Vacant Throne and Sword of Trueterra, Trueterra being a world populated by cats and their nemesis, the squirrels. (Rats and mice do not appear in the stories, having long ago been eaten.)

I like to think that the car stories and the fact that my wife, Jolene, and I read to our children from the time they could sit up without falling over are why Emily now holds her master’s in creative writing and is the author of Great Divide, published by Unsolicited Press.

As a teenager, she had a “nickel” bet with me as to who would get published first. She won handily when the magazine Merlyn’s Pen published her story Peach Trees, which won a prize in the magazine’s contest.

As proof of her skills as a writer, I submit to you her one-sentence short story On The House.

My son, Kevin, took a different path to express his creativity: music and video. So, while I am bragging about my children, here is some of his work.  He has been experimenting with AI’s ability to help create images. The music is entirely his own. I will give two examples. The first is so dystopian that I wanted you to know he has a lighter side. Years ago, during the Q&A of one of his screenings, someone asked if he ever had a “bright spot” in his life. His humor can be dark. You may need to move your cursor to the top of the screen to turn on the sound. Each piece is around a minute long. Hand over the Waterand Processional.

I mentioned at the start of this piece that I see writing as an affliction and contagious. My wife of more than forty years is now writing her first novel. The process involves physical writing, dictating to her phone, and editing on her Chromebook.

Technically, this is not her first book. Years ago, when she and Emily were participating in competitive horse shows, during the long drives, they entertained themselves by reinventing Christmas carols with horse-related verses. She compiled them with vintage illustrations, mostly Christmas postcards, into a work called We Wish You a Mare-y Christmas, the intent of which was to raise money for horse rescue. Why our family created so much content while driving in cars, I cannot say. Simply passing the time, I guess.

All that said, she is writing with “the door closed,” so I only know hints and pieces. You need to imagine her sitting in a comfy chair, phone in hand, and a blanket across her lap with a cat sleeping on it. I’ve taken to doing all of the cooking and cleaning the kitty litter box.

Oh, and Emily’s son, Theo, is demanding “made-up stories.” The affliction continues, and that’s a good thing.