I have shut the doors to a creative writing website I created about two years ago. It grew out of some people who had been writing fan-fiction at the Highlander Bulletin Board a few years back. It's first incarnation was called The Writers Post but the owner pulled a big hoax on all of us and when confronted, locked the doors. I created The Writers Outpost (TWO...get it??) and it flourished for some time.
Around the same time that TWP was started, I joined another creative writing venture on-line, this one revolved around role playing. (For those of you who still hold the Baptist fear of D&D...this isn't it!...I'm not going to hell!) About a year ago, I split off from that one and joined another one, much smaller and more intimate. My writing skills exploded. My on-line character grew and took on more meaning and nuances over the year.
I was enjoying myself! I was creatively writing at TWO and the on-line role playing. Both were therapuetic. TWO allowed me a place to delve into different genre's and try them out. It also allowed me to post humourous stories I had heard from others. In time I started a BLOG at TWO but then decided I wanted a place to really open up and let it all out.
I started the Blog of the LostDog.
Now I was writing in three different places. One of them was going to suffer. Unfortunately, that was TWO. Others on the board founded their own boards so as to concentrate on their particular brand of writing. Some stuck around and many just drifted off never to return.
After a lot of thinking I decided to shut the doors at TWO for a while. It wasn't an easy decision as I've truly enjoyed writing with many of the folks there. Tinsel, JG, Whey spring to mind. I loved reading stuff from Highland Heather, Ghost07 and The Young One. But I couldn't hold it on my own anymore.
So I shut the door and moved on. I re-opened this blog and I still write at the role-playing board and NaNoWriMo is coming up in just 5 short months. (NaNoWriMo - National November Writing Month...http://www.nanowrimo.org).
This has been a year of changes. I don't know if it's coincidental that both my wife and I are turning 40 this year or if it's just God's timing/sense of irony. Like I said, we both turn 40, our oldest will be an official teenager in December, we took our kids out of their school and they will be attending University Prepatory School come September and we left our church of 6 years.
And I ordered a Utilikilt.
And I want a motorcycle.
Plus I bought a pair of black Converse Hightops with red flames on them!
My mother thinks I'm headed for a mid-life crisis...maybe...most likely not though.
I guess I'm at an age where I don't care as much what people think anymore. That if I'm trying my best to live the way I'm supposed to; love God, love my fellow man, etc., etc. then what does it matter if someone doesn't think I should ride a motorbike? I'm more careful now than I was at 21. I can afford it. (My son would LOOOVE for me to have one!) What does it matter if someone thinks my thoughts on life, the universe and everything are not the status quo? It's their problem if you ask me. I'm not harming anyone with my beliefs.
(This has been the part the intro banner refers to as "rambling"....)
As I am ready to close TWO, Tinse wrote this as a parting gift...
The waves gently broke on the beach, far beyond the horizon the sun continued its journey round the earth, now the sky still carried some of its light but this was now fading to an inky blackness. I sat on the balcony and taking a drag on my cigar sent smoke rings scurrying after the setting sun, a warm breeze tugged them apart before they had travelled far and their destruction distracted me from my thoughts.
The room was now deserted, the empty bottles and glasses stood as a testimony to the fact it had once been full. Some glasses, and some bottles as well I guess though I couldn’t be sure because of their opaque glass, had the remnants of drinks. In some cases the holder had staggered away having had their fill, others had simply forgotten where they had put down their drink and had ordered another.
In the corner lay a powder blue sweater. I remembered the owner, a tall blonde who had had more than enough before the sun had even touched the sea. It was doubtful she would still be awake as this night formed.
Far out to sea, possibly beyond the horizon, lightening flashed as if nature was trying to make up for the missing sun. The storm would be heading towards me. Draining my glass I knew it was time to go, I had business in the night, obligations, that would not keep me here.
The sound of the doors to the balcony closing echoed slightly as if to remind me that I was on my own, I caught a bottle with my feet and it rolled away to one side it coming to rest on the blue sweater, as if to remind me to take it with me. Gathering the sweater up there was a faint smell of perfume, enough to make me think of the girl again. Yes, in the morning I would pay her a visit.
At the door I took one last look around, the empty chairs and table, sofa, glasses and bottles, then, with a flick of a switch they joined the night. Outside I threw the sweater onto the back seat as I got into my car. For one moment I wanted to go back inside, pour a drink and pray the storm wouldn’t find me. But it was coming. I started the car and drove off to become part of the night.