One of my dearest friends Duncan has finally reentered the blogosphere. We went for a walk the other day up the canyon and he had already decided to start writing again, but as so many writers, suffered from that obdurate block that stands in the way of fluid communication, of cohesive words that can bring so much release for that stopped up writer, and perhaps some relief for those reading. He is an incredible writer, but we struggle with the same problem. The first word.
There is so much to the very first word. It starts off an entire feeling, an experience, and as a writer I often feel that if I don’t get the first word right, none of the piece will be worth reading. This is partially because I am an addict, and always telling myself that I am not worthwhile, not worth it, and partially because I’ve read so many things that didn’t start off right, and then finished wonderfully, but it took so much to get to that finish because of the start. Duncan has started. With his one word, leading into a beautifully written and candid piece about himself, about how he ended up rowing circles in the same boat as I presently occupy. Though our stories are polar opposite, there are so many similarities, one cannot help but see SS Sex Addict written in bold letters across our little dingies. I am very proud of him, as he has taken a huge first step in his recovery. Sharing on a grand level, allowing for maximum recovery, as well as understanding.
My very first word also happened yesterday. As I walked around the Vogue Theatre, speaking with CEO’s and Presidents of Tourism or Chamber of Commerce type people, I went from a weak and timid voice, a voice that was so uncertain of the possibility of this, my new truth, to a strong and sure writer, dedicated to my craft, and interested in the story. It was amazing. Yesterday was the first day I’ve told people I’m a writer. This is what I said.
“Hello, I’m Jennie Ketcham, a writer for The Daily Truffle. Its very nice to meet you, and I’d love to ask you a few questions…”
The statement was well received, as was I. It didn’t start like this. The statement, the first go round, came out something like this:
“beeeehhhp, urrrr, I’m Jennifer Kethcam. I mean, Ketcham. I’m um, we like the social life at Daily Truffle. Yeah, Social life and Old stuff. I mean Monuments. I mean history. Stuff. Fuck.”
Fortunately I ran this statement by Whitey, who was entirely out of place in his search for a job at the New Supperclub LA. And being that they haven’t even got water, let alone a guest list, his desire for occupation may be just a bit presumptuous. So it worked out fine. In fact, the entire thing worked out fine, because I was able to come home and write up my experience of this rare event, and Caroline, my girl at the Truffle, liked the piece and said she’ll only be editing a few things, which is fine by me. So here’s to something new.
In fact, as soon as the article is posted I’ll provide a link to it for those who wish to read. I owe a special thanks to all the unknown soldiers that have been planting the seed in my mind since the birth of this blog. WIthout your support and gentle pushing to pursue a writing career, I don’t know that I could have mustered the confidence required for the actual follow through. I humbly thank you, and dedicate this new adventure to you.
Speaking of adventure, I am currently trying to negotiate with a certain cruise line to change my cruising date with sweet Angel Pie. I’ve been asked to appear on a show, and that show’s filming date happens upon the exact date which we are supposed to set sail. Hopefully RC will be understanding, but I can understand if they are not. More to come about this show, but as the balls is still flying around my pinball machine, and the lights are flashing and the sound is blaring, I’m not ready to stop everything and talk about it. I don’t want to drop the ball right down the middle and lose the entire game. Not yet a pinball wizard, little one, not yet.