An Audacious Proclamation
I had a friend. His name was Brandon. He died. He was in his early 80s, so he was supposed to die, right? But Brandon had a goal. He wanted to be the oldest ever first-time-published author. I loved Brandon for this goal, and I thought he would meet it, because he was a damn fine writer.
Then he died.
One of the things I am thankful for in my life is that Brandon’s son called me and let me know Brandon had died. Brandon and I were writing group friends. We swapped work. We emailed back and forth. I got zapped back to me printed copies of my stories scrawled with red ink, the hell edited out of them. I knew Brandon, he knew me. But our interaction was in a limited loop. It did not include his family. Thus my thankfulness.
Now I’m picking up Brandon’s banner. I want to be the oldest ever first-time-published-Southern-phenom author. I am not talking about literary acclaim. I’m talking about accessibility. A FUNNY Southern writer. Okay, okay. I’m not gonna be the next Kathryn Stockett. I have limits to my aspirations. But I want my place in the pantheon. And, in Brandon’s name, I’m going after it.
here’s to creative synthesis . . .
JustDeb
Go for it! Great aspiration.
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Thanks!!!
Marisa
You’re going to make that goal, and while you may CLAIM oldest ever, no one would look at you and believe you!
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Thank-you – for both of these encouraging statements
Luanne
You go, girl!
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Thanks!