Just read through my screenplay again. Like I said, a while back, I had sent the disk off to Curious Cat Productions in Gautier, Mississippi. She formatted the disk into “Movie Magic” in no time and got it back to me. I sent it out for contests and to others/movie producers, but never did get any hits. Got some good feedback, and some helpful hints. Tried to take it well, by the way, the good criticism with the bad. Paul Cooper, found him on the Internet, especially, I liked a lot of his advice, except for the part that said to do away with the Indiana cycling trip altogether. Just couldn’t do that. I’m sure the play still needs work. It is my very first screenplay, after all. (Still have a few long dialogue passages. My partner disapproves, but I just cannot seem to shorten them. Not for now anyway.)

But with some improvements, I can sure picture my screenplay as a movie. And there’s this great Neil Diamond tune, “Jazz Time” that would really set the mood for cycling. Check it out on an old tape of his, if you can sometime.

Well, I’m going to hop off this review kick of mine tonight and take a break but I’ll “hop on and write” again tomorrow. This is just another literary journey for me, a fun, long ride I’m trying to enjoy until the destination comes within sight. I don’t know what kind of turn to take tomorrow, what path I’ll travel down. Later. Time for some funny Late Night Show stuff.

(The next day.) Well, the turn I took was a procrastination stop. Took some time out to visit my sister and nephews. Took my one nephew out to dinner too and we got caught up on each other’s lives. He’s a teenager these days and I like to stay tuned in.
The thing is part of our conversation ties in with the theme of my book here, so I thought I’d share it with you.

I’ve been writing books for a long time, self-publishing books since 1998. But it occurred to me once again, another reason why this route sucks. Here I’ve got a loved one, a vulnerable teenager on my hands, in my car and I’m always dishing out the optimistic philosophy type of stuff. You know because I want him to believe in things, create a fulfilling life for himself. But he’s getting older now and wiser. He’s not an impressionable kid anymore who believes everything his Aunt Gail tells him.

He’s like so many kids out there in the world, a bit overwhelmed with tough studies at school and figuring out his life, and now, it seems, filled with doubts. He said to me, “But I’m just not sure all my hard work will even make a difference or be worth it. Sometimes I just wanna quit school and go get a job.”

So I, being the eternal optimist, or always trying to be, professed right back at him. “It all makes a difference Kris. It will all be worth it if you just keep on trying. Because the opposite of that is just negative thinking, that nothing works and nothing makes a difference.”

We talked for a bit longer and we both just went about enjoying our ride and dinner out.

But later, I thought to myself, I’m probably not having much influence on him anymore about this hard work mattering or it will all be worth it, or even “try, try, try again.” Why? Because here I sit again realizing, and understanding that he probably doesn’t take me all that seriously any more. Sure I write books, one after another. But can I be taken seriously, really be a writer if I don’t sell many of those books?

So now you see one more motive I have for being taken seriously as a published writer. If a person is going to keep on spouting off about “keep believing in your dreams and keep working toward them,” then the person trying to motivate certainly should be able to show and tell that it was all worth it for himself or herself too.

Can I do that? Well, I’ve got my nursing. I’ve got my B.A. I’ve certainly lived many of my dreams and I am one of the luckiest and perseverant people on earth to have crossed the U.S. on a bicycle. So I guess I can talk, motivate, or keep trying to.

But, until this book gets into the hands of millions and read, truth is, as a writer, not to me, but to my nephew and so many others, it doesn’t look like it was worth it.

We all have tough periods in our lives. I feel like this is one in mine. I’ve waited. I’ve persevered. With each book I thought I’d “break through.” Well, it hasn’t happened.

So, yes, it’s tough to begin again, in a way. But like I said, the opposite of that, to me, seems to give up. I’ve always felt that if I, as a writer, can make it, then anyone who keeps on trying can make it. If I can’t, with all my continued diehard efforts, then that means that so many others can’t too, because I’m out there with the toughest, as far as trying.

And I don’t feel very good at all when I’m not trying. So this book is like a lifejacket in an ocean of conflict and adversity. I feel all alone out here, but I know I’m not. I practice survival skills every day and it helps. I look for company and sometimes I find it, in a book, or the story of another struggling writer, especially someone who finally made it, or I find solace and strength, of course in prayer and faith, and yes, my optimistic posters on my bedroom wall. I believe in myself and my motto lives on in my heart, always I hope. “Live Believing, die believing, it will make all the difference.”