|
Many of us have wanted to write a book. I wanted to write a book. In fact, I wanted to write a lot of books. I had all kinds of ideas that I thought would help people’s lives to be just a little bit easier or better…Attention Deficit/ Hyperactivity Disorder, Domestic Violence and a couple other topics. I had a dream.
Then one day, I said I wanted to write a book someday and the person responded, “Yeah, lots of people want to write books. The difference is that some of us will sit down and do the work.” “Wow,” I thought! “This guy just got me to understand that I was making excuses.”
It seemed a long time ago when I was a young adult, that a friend kept saying that she would one day see me writing self-help books. She said it and said it, until it nearly became aggravating. I thought she possessed either a good imagination or a better assessment of my writing abilities than I had of myself. Then, I attended a college English class, and my teacher told the class that she had intended on resigning until she read my final paper. According to her, she felt she had helped someone’s writing progress from average to noteworthy.
Coercions for me to write continued when I was made Executive Director of a secured juvenile facility and met a young lady who, I just knew, wanted to commit suicide. About a month later and following some acting out, this young lady told me her dark secret – that she had allowed her mother’s boyfriend to perform adult acts on her, from ages 6-8. “Really,” I said? “You volunteered? Well, let me tell you how he got you and why this man probably “shopped” for a mother with a small child. Let me tell you about pedophiles and predatory behavior.” After hearing the young lady tell me that no one had ever told her this information in the years and years of counseling she attended, she made me realize the importance of writing The Predator Game.
Of course, I still had not “sat down” to “do the work.” I was too busy to write or finish writing the book, and I still didn’t know if I was worthy to write. Another sign appeared when a friend insisted a fortune teller “read my cards” at Mardi Gras. “You are doing something creative that no one knows about…something in your home…something like writing. That’s where you will make your mark in the world,” the fortune teller said. My friend asked what this lady was talking about? “I can’t believe it,” I told my friend. “It’s a sign,” I chuckled.
The last straw arrived when I returned home from a dental appointment, and one of the staff telephoned me. Somehow in the conversation, she divulged that she had been “dumb” not to have detected that her former husband had violated her daughter. “Dumb,” I asked? “You weren’t dumb. These people have practiced a long time and are great chameleons. Let me tell you how he got your daughter; and why would you blame yourself for a crime committed by someone else?” Then, she told me about a male friend who intended to commit suicide because he had been forced to play The Predator Game when he was a child. “Please, write the book,” she pleaded. “You explain it differently. What if your book could save one life? Would it be worth it?”
And, that’s how I became an author. That’s how I “sat down” and “did the work.” I wish you luck with your dreams, and I hope my books help keep your loved ones more safe and make the world a safer place.
|
Bookmarks
Share
Save
[