By Hal Walter
When I spoke to my son’s 5th grade class back in September, I did a short reading from my book Wild Burro Tales. I had a little postscript in mind, and after the reading I asked how many of the kids want to be writers when they grow up.
I was expecting one or two to raise their hands, and I had some premeditated advice for them. What I was not expecting was to see a lot of little hands shoot enthusiastically into the air.
I was paralyzed briefly. I thought, really? This many kids want to be writers? What exactly will they write in this day and age of social media, online “news” feeds and Kindle Shorts? And who will pay them to do this writing? Should I warn them of the frustrations, the long odds of “success” … the pay?
I struggled for a moment, fighting back the urge to discourage them. I had already told them that what I really like about writing is the ability to explore almost any topic of interest. I refocused to my original script and told them the really cool thing to do after reading to a group is to give a copy of the actual book you’ve just read from to someone in the audience. And then I gave that copy of Wild Burro Tales to their teacher, Mrs. Holycross. Years ago, I had given a copy to an elderly woman in an audience in Colorado Springs, and simply giving that book away remains one of the highlights of my entire writing life.
The enthusiasm of those kids wanting to be writers stuck with me for several days. I thought to myself afterward that I did not start out in this life wanting to be a writer. I never wanted to be a writer as a kid. Didn’t want to be a writer as a teenager, or at any point during my young adulthood. I hesitate to call myself a “writer” now. How the heck did I end up doing this? It was truly a rocky little trail that led to this place, and it seems to be getting rockier with the changing media landscape. When I graduated from CU’s journalism school, the commencement speaker said society would always need people who could produce a clear and concise sentence. Yet the CU journalism school is now closed, and I am left pondering the value of a good sentence in a world full of LOLs, BRBs and WTFs.
To be sure, not all of us can be engineers or investment advisors, or doctors or nurses. Not all of us can be cowboys or welders, either. It’s a curiosity how we choose our individual occupational paths, and/or how sometimes those paths seem to choose us, or are shaped partly or wholly by our chosen geography. And thus it has been for me with writing. It seems to be something people want from me and are willing to pay for, though it’s not necessarily something I always truly enjoy. While I like sharing my experiences, feelings and ideas, sometimes actually dredging them up and writing them down has all the appeal of stenography coupled with dental work.
Writing just sort of found me, and to this day it remains a big part of what I do, although there’s also editing, graphic design, photography and ranch work. It’s true I can manufacture words right out of literal thin air here in rural Colorado with minimal equipment or overhead (my “office” is literally a 2010 Mac Mini stashed in a closet with shelving for a desk).
Over the years I have periodically made fair amounts of money writing, but most of that has been writing stuff other people want me to write, like marketing and business copy.
I do have writer friends who write purely because they love it. My friend Terry is one of them. I met her for lunch in Santa Fe last spring. She wrote something like 5,000 words of her latest novel on the train ride from Albuquerque. She took the train specifically so she could spend that time writing. She looks forward to writing. She is absolutely thrilled when her work is published. She teaches writing and conducts seminars on writing. She writes because it makes her happy. When I think of a real writer, I think of Terry.
Author Jim Harrison recently wrote that “Unlike a lot of writers, I don’t have any craving to be understood.” There are meanings in his statement that go beyond the obvious.
This month I have a new book coming out: Full Tilt Boogie – A journey into autism, fatherhood, and an epic test of man and beast. I don’t know if my book is any “good.” I guess I don’t care. I wrote it with reckless disregard for marketability or for what anybody else thinks. I totally ignored some suggestions of those close to me who read early drafts. I sent it to three publishers, all of whom turned it down saying they liked it and liked the writing, but it just didn’t fit their marketing niches and genres. The experience left me feeling like traditional publishers are the new “vanity press” and seem destined to follow in the footsteps of newspapers and the other dinosaurs of print. I ultimately decided to self-publish. I am holding on to no presumptions other than I created this book using my own brain, heart and life experiences, and remained as true to myself as possible in doing so.
Coincidentally, this is also how I’ve gone about writing this column for going on 20 years. Recently at a dinner for Colorado Central supporters and contributors, I was humbled by the number of people who approached me with encouragement for my writing. As the holidays and new year approach, I continue on in this journey with your support and my gratitude. In the next few months, look for an evolving format here on the inside back cover, perhaps some shorter essays accompanied by photography, and maybe some poetry, too.
After speaking to the 5th grade class, Mrs. Holycross asked if I could come back sometime and talk to the kids more about writing. I agreed to return, but I can’t help wondering if perhaps those kids have just as much to tell me about writing as I have to tell them. From those who painted upon rock walls to those who post on Facebook walls, there have always been people who write, and surely there always will be. The medium is all that changes.
Hal Walter’s new book Full Tilt Boogie is available at the Book Haven in Salida, and also directly from him in paperback and e-book. Write to him at jackassontherun@gmail.com for details.
