Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Its better to write to have a public then not to write to have no self...

A coworker convinced me to add The Shack to my Kindle; while waiting for its instant arrival the spirited moment became blank when reminded of my elementary school days when selecting a book was based on how cool the cover was.

Mike Mulligan’s Steam Shovel with its bright red face and black lettering showcased a manly I’m a tough guy approach never realizing how much of a classic it would prove to be to those that grew up ripping dirt piles apart with larger than life heavy metal Tonka trucks and tractors.

Is it wrong to admit I read Are You There God It’s Me Margaret because I couldn’t figure out why the girls were whispering?

Curious George did nothing while Clifford the Big Red Dog glamorized my love for pets. Both featured valuable lessons that could easily be incorporated into everyday life but there was something about that out of control monkey that invited more anger and disappointment than entertainment.

By third grade I knew something was seriously different when Mrs. Stephenson would handout the order forms to purchase paperbacks.

While the majority of the students perked up and shouted, “Wow!”

My heart’s interest invisibly conquered the soul with, “Whoa…look at the lion.”

Yep…a picture fanatic that constantly complained about authors destroying the surface of my getaway with words.

It’s not that I couldn’t read…I was a shy kid with very little to say. Shouldn’t the books I’ve casually savored while slowly turning each page at such an early age be the same?

I’m no different today; any book, magazine or collection of blogged words or Tweets and especially emails that feature more than a single sentence have to come with a voice or its rubble from a fallen imagination.

While dressed in adult clothes I’m an avid reader but only if it’s purpose has a voice.

Two clicks into The Shack and I was quickly introduced to Mack, a thirteen year old that didn’t have much to say. Stop! Now you’ve got my attention. Mack is a thinker not a doer. The only emotion I hold is to figure out a way to get a message to this Mack kid that deeply expresses, “Don’t do radio.”

Mack doesn’t say much unless you ask him directly. In an age of computerized finger talkers where does the tyke fit in? Thinkers are treated like aliens; verbally they’re always in the way, not a pity parade but an idea maker that experiences things differently. Yet every now and then Mack comes up with an idea worth investing a couple of minutes of your time.

One problem…after the conversation has concluded the tendency isn’t to friend Mack but to latch onto a rope and pull yourself away. Mack’s thinking but not doing approach tends to invite the visitor to look in a mirror, realizing what they do doesn’t seem so appealing to the masses inside a world where popularity and acceptance is the only way to gain.

When Mack talks he looks at it as being nothing more than a survival mechanism. Stop! You had me at hello! The Shack didn’t even come with a really cool cover with a steam shovel or bowling ball hitting a congregation of snotty nosed pins.

Maybe this is why it took me thirty one years to publish my book Halloween 78. Although it continues to serve the purpose of being the only reason why I didn’t drop out of school; cutting it in half in the middle to create enough space to add a classic Hollywood generated cliffhanger to a Twilight saturated generation allowed the thinker and not doer to accept artist Peter Max’s challenge and release all things created back into the universe.

Say what? Let’s just call this kind of talk The Mack attack. Not so many big words but a whole lot of vowels and consonants super glued together to resemble an idea that might become a voice.

Writing is personal. Letting go of it is like walking in on bedroom privacy. There is no fear grander than that of expected judgment. When thinkers begin to do the blvd seems less crowded but in the end what’s been done is what you were born to do…write.

Doctors, nutritionists, weight loss geek freaks, fat suckers, body part raisers and workout kings make a lot of money reshaping your outside cover while the true story bubbles beneath the fancy design waiting to be delivered.

It’s ok to be a curious monkey that dresses up in a big red dog costume while digging giant holes in the center of small towns only to learn the latest project forgot to include a way out… The original

Halloween 78 doesn’t conclude like the published release because one night while sipping on incredible wine the depth of my thinking did something undoable…I killed off one of the main characters only to sit back, laugh and calmly say, “Figure it out.”

The only judgment I require is the acceptance of self. That’s what feeds a popcorn seed on a journey to pop its head up above the soil only to be sporting a nifty cool graduation like tassel by summer’s end.

When you write your entire self is given room to breathe. If you’re hell bent on million sellers and popularity contests become a politician elected to office then connected to a scandal. You might get a 30 minute show on CNN or MSNBC.

arroecollins@clearchannel.com

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