Those dreaded crossroads…


Since I had so much fun with it yesterday, here I go again…

Picture this:  A road, made of loosely packed dirt that’s the color of tan.  An easy color that makes imagining what happened to that blasted yellow brick road in that movie called The Wizard of Oz.  How I wanted to smash that road into smitherings as a child….

*ahem, back to the picture.

The road, on either side are fields, both lush and green, swaying in the wind with a come hither kind of sway that a sexy woman throws at the poor sap who is not in her league, but wishes he was.  On the right side are flowers of every different color, scent, and smell.  It’s your imagination so put in any flower you’d like while on the left side are trees, bushes, nature in its finest.  Sure there are some flowers too, but not quite as many.

Leaves of Utah mountain trees changing color d...

Klondike Highway - Mountain

Beyond the left side is a forest, it’s big, green, and tall.  The trees appear to be clumped in together as if there wasn’t enough space, blocking out the light from the sun above you while beyond the field to the right is a rather inviting mountain range with white on the top of it, but looks HUGE which means as you get closer, guess what, it’s bigger than you think.So you stand there, looking between each path and see that as far as you can either goes to the mountains or that forest….

Now, if you’re Dorothy, you go to the forest because there might be a cowardly lion there and you’re just that damn lucky.

If you’re Sir Gregory Everest, you pick the one to the mountain because you’re just that damn stubborn.

However, if you’re me (which I know you’re not) you stare at the crossroads and say “But I want to go both ways” with a very attractive pout that does nothing to remind you of the five-year old currently playing use the helicopter to knock over the mountain game………

Yeah, I’m in that kind of mood.

Despite the colorful artistry of my words, I’m being truthful about where I feel that I’m at.

The right path is the artist part of me, the one who enjoys my web and graphic design gig, that loves to wrangle with code.  It’s easier than the other path despite the mountain in the far off distance.  Easier because the actual process comes so damn naturally that it doesn’t challenge me any more.

I don’t toss and turn at night with the worries or if, neither does it occupy my thoughts.  I don’t sit in front of the TV sketching out my next design.  The mountain represents the business aspect which, I’ll admit, I hate.  It bores me, I have no interest in it at all, but understand that it’s a necessary mountain to climb if I’m going to attain that illusionary paradise on the other side.  So I struggle to climb it while asking myself “What the hell was I thinking?”

The left path is the writer in me, the one who enjoys creating worlds, problems, solutions, concepts, characters and all that other fun stuff.  It’s the harder path because it’s personal and while I like trees, who the hell knows what’s in the forest.  You’ll have the good and the bad mixed in with the crap.

It’s hit or miss on whether the acorn is going to hit you in the head or if that cowardly lion is really a sham.  He’s just waiting to pounce because you’re not Dorothy and luck has never been a strong motivator for me.Often times I find that luck lulls me into a false sense of contentment that is pulled out from under me in the next moment.  Unlike the dishes on the table, I feel as if I never manage to escape the carnage of it.  So, yes, that dark forest scares the dickens out of me at times because I don’t know what to expect.  Writing is subjective, there are no clear paths to making it and it’s all subjective.

The popular refusal e-mail of “It’s not for us” appears to be a catch phrase in the industry.  At the very least they could say, “But send it to so-in-so and they might be willing.”  But no, they won’t do that because then it would mean they have to encourage us, can’t have that now can we?

Most days, I can hop from one path to the other because they have a parallel quality to it, weaving closer to each other at varying intervals, but as I move from loving to write and keeping it to myself into the drive to share it and let strangers who are not writers read it, I find the lull to stay on the left instead of going back to the right.

So that’s my question for the day:  What do I do?  Do I keep jumping from one to the other?  Do I finally choose and take that leap of faith that is needed to stick to one path and one path only?  Or do I keep my options open?

No clue, at this moment, who knows….maybe I’ll get lucky and have the answer drop out of the sky and smack me upside the head….

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