"How do you survive?"
"Upon the kindness of others"
An Appeal for Support:
"A Matron, a Patron, a Court Jester, a Friend.."
Benefactors: 'backers', philanthropists, donors, 'promoters' .. (an
I need to start meeting them and "make my case". "How do I do this?" --
it's part of my therapy. That 'socialisation' process. "Where are they?"
And I'm in search of living quarters "for a writer". Quiet, secure and
supportive. Probably private. Hopefully with brilliant minds nearby
Best and the Brightest". Where a "delicate blossom" can
be encouraged to bloom and help "point me along the way".
Perhaps they know "a friend of a friend of a..". Whereupon I shall
discover a fellow "independent spirit" who believes in what I'm trying
to accomplish and can help nourish it.
Or perhaps there is a grant somewhere for it (March 1980:
"Granted .. in whole" thanks). I'd be grateful if someone
could tell me "which one". Indeed, I'm a "babe in the woods" in so many
ways in all this and become easily lost in them.
Publishing has a cost: about $300 a year I'm estimating. As well as the
time involved. And setbacks (because you're vulnerable and can't afford
certain protections). And then there's food and "all the rest"..
I tried doing all the right things .. "I've just been poor" that's all. And would be more than happy to show them my Social Security statement
to prove it. With all those "zero's" since '93. "zero zero zero zero
zero zero zero zero zero zero zero zero zero zero" -- I don't know why
they all seem to look like "F's". I'm 59 and it all adds up to $265,857.
But if you can do nothing else (perchance you see me anywhere) "just
smile" and say "Hi Geoffrey" or something. It will suffice. And has done wonders already. Thanks.
"I've just been poor" that's all. "So what!" Here's why:
Self-esteem: I call it "the energy for pursuit". And it's hard to
explain that stuttering and low self-esteem thing to those one meets
briefly in this world. When they see me happy and delighted to meet
And do not wish to burden them with "the long depressing story". Perhaps
they have one too. That's even better. I'd like to hear it. Let's see if
they can. Here's mine:
Stuttering: it's no one's fault we live in an age of recording. And all
us "stutterers" are bound to hear it eventually anyway somewhere. And
become depressed, isolated and withdrawn. That "coming of age"
thing. Unhappily, it began at an
early age for me around the time my parents were divorced: that means "on your
own". Friends diminish and now gone with a new High School -- "highly
competitive". Late night unfinished homework. The sleep cycle shifts
(and permanently so: it's called DSPS) as you sit at your 'desk' getting
nothing done late into the night. For hours. Then try to stay awake for
classes the next day. Becoming severely isolated and depressed. And
terrified of being rejected by women: "Why ask?". Your grades are at the
bottom and being too depressed are grateful some people somewhere help get you into
a some college where "it just continues" struggling through that
constant 'fatigue' to get your BSEE so you could wind up "stuffing
circuit boards" and "do as your told". But you just never seem to "get
off the ground". Financially and with a career. Later, there's a little
'sparkle' and later some money. But you know "it doesn't matter" the
stuttering and self-esteem thing is always there. No one knows who you
Then you discover you're a writer. You've known it all your life but
never been encouraged in it because your father left an attic full of
it (that didn't interest you anyway) that he never published
those publishers.." and died poor.
And also struggled with these peculiar 'fatigue' issues that
were not his fault that no one understood and always seemed to
be in search for some cure for it and never did. Anyway, I'm trying to work on those life-long stuttering and self-esteem
issues. That's where it starts.
Publishing: it's the first thing that's ever seemed to be working for me
in my life. Using my "full heart and lungs". Technically and
'spiritually'--(I hate that confusing word, I believe in sanity by the
way). It means I can say what I wish. And there is much that needs
saying and much that needs to be known. This is a start and some of the
rest you'll find at "Oh, so much to write!"
I wish I could do better with the social-isolation and anxiety issues.
Investigative Journalism can make it even more so. The 'decoding' and
"worst case analysis" (I'm an engineer, remember) sometimes just gets
weird: "Word quietly comes down from the 'powers that be' that this
person is a problem". That one turned out to be a laugh. As well as
turning up another story (still unfinished): "Spooked".
You just have to go through this stuff I guess. Like jumping in the deep
end of a pool learning how to swim and see you'll survive it.
But as the stakes go higher it starts to creep back in.
And the craft of writing and web publishing itself is isolating
and time consuming. There is much left that needs to be
said and fear I may not have the ability to complete it all.
But find myself strangely driven by it all.
Anyway, whatever happens, thanks for the smiles.