Alaska

So I wrote a book. I don't know, can you call it a book if its never going to see the outside of a computer file? So let's say I spent the last few years typing out a 635 or so page computer file full of fiction. For those few years I thought quite a bit about the made-up folks in my made-up town. In fact, in those few years I got kinda fond of the place and everyone in it. I was giddy when I finished. I was energized and proud as a walking one-year old. And then I looked back over it all and I started to get embarrassed, bored and, quite frankly, a little discouraged with the amateaurishness (wow that should definitely be a real word) of the writing. To improve the file would take hours and hours more of work. But since I know what happened with Mona and Billy, and since I don't feel like the beginning, middle or end would get changed as much as everything crammed in the corners to support it all, I'm not motivated to do it. I met these good people; I know their story; they turned out all-right enough in the end; now it's time to say, "it was nice to meet you," and move on.
So I have an idea for another book that nobody will ever read (well maybe my older sister will, she indulges me like that - thanks sister!). I'm fascinated that I'm all jazzed and worked up about writing something else that won't make it too far past the moment I type it out. Why would I want to put in all the effort again for something so evaporative? Didn't I learn my lesson? But I've decided I must be writing not to be read, but because I really do like getting to know the people and places I write about. Its kind of like reading a good book...except slower and more painful...and with less artful writing. You know...it's just fun. Well, if I'm being honest I do like to imagine that there are going to be tons and tons and tons of people that go apes to read what I write, but I also imagine that I'm going to qualify for the Olympic Trials when I go out and run eight and a half minute miles. Enjoying and revelling in delusionality while fully aware of reality is one of my talents.
Anyhow, I've got some new friends and they've been hanging out with me more and more lately. I keep telling them I don't have the time, but they keep trying to butt into my life. I don't know their names yet - other than girl that comes to Alaska with her husband, crazy-hermit Mom, and wild man who I think has a dog. I'm pretty sure they live in Dundas Bay close to Glacier Bay in Alaska but I haven't been able to nail down when they live. I think it will be fun to get to know them and learn some more about Alaska...when the kids, the husband, the baby, the house, the church callings, the running, the million other things I want and need to do let me. I'll let you know how it goes.