Indigenous Chapter One

I had planned to start the blog on the third book ‘Indigenous’ after Christmas.  However, as I am not in the mood to work on the fifth book, motivation collapse – I will start.

The book opens with George writing a letter to his dad.  Sometimes, when I read this letter, I find myself not totally convinced with having managed to present all the confusion George feels and his adolescent wisdom.   Of course in some places I would say I have managed to do this, but not everywhere.  (At this particular time in the book George is very confused and angry.  He is also seventeen, a time in my own life that was very volatile.)  I might rewrite the letter for the completed works – if I remember.  (Smile)

Naturally, I would be interested to hear from anyone, and what they thought of the letter.  Perhaps make a few comments or suggestions.  Interaction in this way is very refreshing for me.  It fills my motivation tank.

I think this is a more important question than the common. ‘how do you deal with writers block?’  For me, that question only applies to successful authors, those who have contracts and deadlines to meet.   A more appropriate question for those writers like myself who are still swimming around the huge fishbowl of Amazon eBooks, would be, ‘how do you stay motivated?’ 

Most of the successful authors have hidden email addresses, which basically means they are unreachable, which personally, I find sad.  Surely the interaction with the reader is part of the joy?  Okay, there are always a few extreme fans, but there are also ways around such problems, hiding should be the last resort, right?

If I ever make it to the ‘I can pay the rent’ stage as an author, I’ll write to let you know if my above comment was naive.  LOL.

Right now, I am hoping someone will write.  (Smile)

After the letter and tackling George’s dilemma, the next part of the chapter concerns the dilemma of his father – not his reaction to the letter.  The chapter shines a bit of light on the turmoil that an inexperienced man has as a single dad.  I know.  I have been there.  I can’t help but admire those mom’s that make being a single parent look so easy.

I have, in a lighthearted way, made fun of my own failings, in describing those of George’s dad.   A lot of this chapter I would describe as indirect personal experience.  It is not easy asking people for help, especially when it’s something as simple as – why doesn’t the stains come out of the blankets when I wash them? Or how do I talk to my daughter – I think maybe she’s becoming a woman!

Now, when we talk about the first five years LOL, we have a lot of laughs together, at my expense.  Today, they accept the fact that I can’t cook, and say things like – wow dad! This is much better.  Yeah, right.  After one month of living off goulash anything is better.

Also, in this chapter I defend Michael for not wanting to ‘move on’.  It is a term I do not like.  It feels like an excuse to devalue his feelings.   His wife is dead – but this does not mean he needs to move on – find a new soulmate.  How many soulmates are there?  I found mine, and then they left.  Should I look for another?  It all sounds too cheap for me.  So some doctor tells me (and Michael’s dad) I will feel better if I do, but is life only about feeling better?   When people were smashing my car, spitting on me, calling me a loser and telling me to leave because I am not wanted – I didn’t.  I certainly didn’t move on.  I stayed.  Bad cook, bad housekeeper, bad gardener, bad timekeeper, terrible lunch maker (the list goes on) but I stayed, I wanted to be there for my kids, because I love them.  I was not going to move on so as I could feel better.  Once I even asked them (they were small at the time) what they would do if I were to get a girlfriend?  The answer was clear – it doesn’t need repeating here lol, but it told me they didn’t want it.  So I didn’t do it.  I didn’t move on.  And yes, ten years later, I miss having an adult to talk to.  I miss having someone ask me ‘How are you?’  I miss the silence of simply sitting beside someone feeling ‘at home’ – but that’s only me feeling better.   I made them a promise.  They are happy.  Their dad is there one hundred percent for them – I have also improved in making their lunches!

In the book, I think I have managed to sum up the kind of dad Michael is with the comment that refers to YHWH.  He is not that kind of dad.   And as for myself, and what kind of dad I am?   I’m a slow learner.  A Boomer.  (My children love to call me this – if you don’t know what it is – ask Dr. Google lol) I am a person who has physically moved on all his life, from gig to gig, town to town.   I have tried to do my best.  Failed in places, and nearly made it in others.  LOL

I am sure this chapter does not show the correct way to be behave in the given situations, and probably the same applies to my own private life, but these are the choices we (George, his Dad, and me) have all consciously made.  Michael’s father does not regret it – and I do not either.  This very day, both my son and my daughter told me they loved me!  I win. And, although during the Christmas period the loneliness peaks, I am glad I did not move on.

And as for those of you, who wonder why I am suddenly being so open in my blog, the answer is simple – no one’s reading it.  LOL – (ask Dr. Google again) I have decided to make it partly my own memoirs, too.  But this does not mean I do not look forward to your comments!

Until next week.

By edwardholden

I have been lots of things to many people. Some nice, and some... well not so nice. Now I am older and less worried about what people think of me. My past is colorful, sad and happy. Filled with lots of unique people. I have been blessed in this way. I have walked with people in all walks of life, and I have loved each journey, and each and everyone of them. Now, I write. It is a new road. It is not a highway or a crossroad. It leads me somewhere though, and as I have always spent my life travelling, this suits me fine.

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