The Karma of Words

It’s been several years since this blog -- now in its fourth iteration -- was launched. The initial foray was suggested by a magazine editor who rejected some of my work as it wasn’t ready for prime time. Her thinking was that blogging would serve as a platform to get my material out there while I honed my craft.

Although some of that early work was eventually re-positioned in print media, it must’ve been beginners luck. Soon after that came years of freelance work, and living hand to mouth; and that’s not living.

After a long while, I landed a gig as a legal marketing writer a few years ago. It's not very lucrative, but it keeps me off the street – and keeps me writing. Of course, the reality of the situation is that I write for robots that run on algorithms created by the evil geniuses at Google – a/k/a Big Brother (he's watching you right now).

The whole purpose of digital marketing is to create content that will be captured by web crawlers. It can be disheartening to crank out 2,000 words a day or so, knowing that your audience is a machine. Surely, individuals searching the net for legal info may find it, but content writing comes with no bylines – it’s either got no author or ghost written under the name of a client.

This doesn’t make for an enticing portfolio or very sexy reading either. Of course, the purpose of this blog is not to bring sexy back – that’s up to you.

Given my small cadre of readers, however, it's reasonable to question why I keep going, but the answer is simple: a writer writes no matter what. And it’s not above love. I don’t “love” writing – love is for people, not places and things…besides it’s written in the Book: love one another. Or is that love the one you're with?

But I digress.

In short, writing is what I do. Based on the results thus far, it is uncertain how successful this venture has been, but there's no quitting now — way too much sweat equity has been invested. And keeping this blog going justifies my workaday existence, keeps my mind sharp, and, hopefully, strikes a chord now and then.

Long before blogging (what a crappy word), I spent years toiling away writing poetry, songs and essays in anonymity. It was mostly a moonlight mission back then since I was on somewhat of a career path that eventually got derailed when a former employer succumbed to the market pressures leading into the financial crisis of 2008.

[Sidebar: another one is coming, with or without Agent Orange, and as it looks, it will likely be without.]

Seeing the end was at hand in 2006, I pulled the plug on the financial business and threw my hat in the ring of this writing game. Before I bid adieu, however, I started writing lyrical pieces for and about friends, lost loves and colleagues. And now and then I would “gift” someone with a line or two. Talk about a gift that keeps giving!

I had forgotten this period in my life as a tsunami of events left me a castaway in broad daylight – until the other day. A former colleague with whom I have not spoken in years messaged me via a social media platform. We weren’t friends but would have a laugh now and then when we worked on a project and I knew a little bit about him.

So, he sent me a screen shot of a poem I had written about his son that he keeps tacked to a board in his current work station – 12 years later. Frankly, the piece wasn't that good, but the gist of it was the connection between fathers and sons, which apparently hit home since he lost his father when he was young. His son is now 16 and from the looks of it, they are brothers in arms.

In the intervening years, my life's work – journals from my “ute,” notepads filled with free verse and song ideas, lyrics, essays – was lost in Superstorm Sandy. Needless to say, it was best to forget about all that and keep keeping on.

Anyway, seeing that screenshot of a simple verse reminded me that words sometimes matter, and can lift a person's spirits when you get it right. That, my friends, is why I write and will continue on, come hell or high water (we’ve already had plenty of both).

Here’s hoping you stick with me, and that some new friends come along.