I typed this title as I was reviewing my novella for publication. Monday I received confirmation from the Library of Congress that my documents had been copyrighted. So, it was time to get on the Kindle Direct Publishing site and make my books real. I know you can over polish the stone, but each time I have thought that I had a perfect file, when I review the digital proof, I find a problem. So I keep polishing the stone. That alone would drive you to drink.
I'm going to ramble here. Now that publishing is becoming a reality, the reality of people reading and criticizing my work is also real. I know I write for me. I know that everyone will not like my stories. I know that I decided to publish and share them because I think that for some people, they will be a happy thing. But Oh My Goodness, I hope my skin is thick enough to handle the negative reviews. Or the total lack of reviews.
I know I am completely disregarding many truths about Ernest Hemingway. The chronic pain from injuries, the adventurous lifestyle, the multiple wives, the cats. He was a much more complex and interesting individual than I am. But, I think all writers, all creators, experience incredible anxiety about our creations.
The other thing that is driving me to drink is the current state of affairs in the United States. A couple of weekends ago, my husband and I went to a cruise night. This is an event where people with antique, classic and specialty cars gather together to appreciate their car hobby. There is typically music, and food and a lot of congenial conversation about cars.
That night the DJ played Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American" followed by Toby Keith's "Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue (The Angry American)".
And it was like I was punched in the stomach. I'm not proud to be an American right now. The current administration has turned this country into something I don't recognize. I didn't know whether I was more sad or more angry.
The line in the Toby Keith song, "Now this nation that I love has fallen under attack"? We are under attack from within. We are under attack from the xenophobic, misogynistic, racist administration that separates families and puts children in camps. What have we come too?
On this July 4th, instead of feeling like I can celebrate a great nation, I am left instead mourning what has become of America, and fearful of how depraved we can get before the ship gets righted.
So I know why Hemingway drank. And I hope that we can get out of this dark place.
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