I wrote my first short story when I was twelve. It was titled Twelve and a Junkie. I persuaded my sister Karen to 'make it look professional' so I could submit it to the Reader's Digest First Person's Award. Ada, my mother, was mortified. Can you imagine? Small-town boys from Ohio, growing up in the 60's, hopefully, knew little about heroin addiction, or for that matter writing, but for me that experience opened a whole new arena of visual communication.
I didn't win the competition, needless to say, but I did uncover a link between my imagination and the written word. If I was willing to show up, sit down and spend some time alone, a story quite possibly could develop.
I left home early, at sixteen, and joined the military. By twenty-three I was a world traveler. I traded in my small-town upbringing for the City; Los Angeles first, then New York. For over twenty years I lived in the Big Apple, working in the hospitality industry, but I never stopped putting pencil to paper, fingers to keyboard. My introduction to professional writing began with musicals. My first optioned show was called Waiting. Head Over Heels and Lovers & Liars followed. Although Broadway was the goal, my shows never saw the light of the 'Great White Way.' But, my association and collaboration, at that time, with so many wonderful, talented musicians, singers and writers was a creative dream, a children's playground.
Several screenplays, a few novels and even a television script were developed, sent out and shelved. Some work gathered more attention than others.
Patience is the key in a writer's life.
And, perseverance.
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