By Darvell Hunt
For the first time ever this week, I cut my ear shaving. My therapist thinks I need more sun. We keep a prisoner in our backyard, sometimes chained, sometimes caged.
Personal writing gets attention. When readers come to know your characters’ specific traits, fears, and ambitions, they often care more about them. That isn’t always easy to do. It’s hard to get personal with the person who reads your material, because you’re writing to a future reader you may not know. It’s kind of like reaching out to the future. Writing is, in effect, a time machine between the writer and the reader.
Yes, I do shave my ears occasionally. Men are hairy. A few years ago, my wife pointed out that my hairiness extended to my ears, so I’ve been attempting to correct nature with a sharp blade.
I’ve also suffered from clinical depression for years and have finally decided that since it’s affecting two of the most important things in my life—my family and my writing—that I should do something about it. It sounds weird for me to say, but after just two sessions, my therapist (that’s the weird part) thinks I need more sun to help improve my mood.
And, yes, if we don’t keep our dog, a mix of black lab and sheba inu, caged in his dog run or on a leash in the backyard, he runs away. As a young dog of just over a year old (in man years, which is probably about nine in dog years), he runs away faster than an almost-forty-year-old depressed man with a bleeding ear can go. This makes him somewhat difficult to catch sometimes, so I’m grateful to have my two teenaged sons.
There you go. I got personal. Do you feel like you know me better now?
For the first time ever this week, I cut my ear shaving. My therapist thinks I need more sun. We keep a prisoner in our backyard, sometimes chained, sometimes caged.
Personal writing gets attention. When readers come to know your characters’ specific traits, fears, and ambitions, they often care more about them. That isn’t always easy to do. It’s hard to get personal with the person who reads your material, because you’re writing to a future reader you may not know. It’s kind of like reaching out to the future. Writing is, in effect, a time machine between the writer and the reader.
Yes, I do shave my ears occasionally. Men are hairy. A few years ago, my wife pointed out that my hairiness extended to my ears, so I’ve been attempting to correct nature with a sharp blade.
I’ve also suffered from clinical depression for years and have finally decided that since it’s affecting two of the most important things in my life—my family and my writing—that I should do something about it. It sounds weird for me to say, but after just two sessions, my therapist (that’s the weird part) thinks I need more sun to help improve my mood.
And, yes, if we don’t keep our dog, a mix of black lab and sheba inu, caged in his dog run or on a leash in the backyard, he runs away. As a young dog of just over a year old (in man years, which is probably about nine in dog years), he runs away faster than an almost-forty-year-old depressed man with a bleeding ear can go. This makes him somewhat difficult to catch sometimes, so I’m grateful to have my two teenaged sons.
There you go. I got personal. Do you feel like you know me better now?
2 comments:
Hi Darvell! I didn't know you had a blog here. Nice seeing your writing again.
Wow, it's been awhile. Nice you see you dropping by our little space on the Internet. Welcome!
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