Let me tell you about my book
Breadcrumbs in the trail of a personal journey
It came to me over the last couple weeks as I was recording and editing the audio version of my first book how useful and personal a journey this thing has been for me.
That first book consists of 48 short pieces or stories that describe my world through the lens of running over 3 years of my life. It is more than a journal. It is a slice of my life that hangs together well.
As much as it pains me to admit it I write well. This execution of the craft of writing allows the stories to be more than just rote journaling. It brings a rhythm and flow that allows the passion not to be tied down by the structure of the prose. It creates a painting in which the lighting and perspective support and enhance the figures prancing in the foreground.
I can not only remember the events of this past when I read or listen to my words, I can smell and see and hear the picture. I can be transported to that time and place and viscerally live it again. The hot funk of Boston in ’04, the melancholy of injury and the joy of success, it is all there.
This was my goal when I was writing and still is today. These things, these events and adventures were so important to me that I tried to craft a word picture that would transport the reader to that time and place, inside my mind and body, to live it with me. And in a small way here I succeeded.
I’m glad I did it this way because it becomes a living, colored, sensory journal – and emotive tape recording of the past.
I never sat down with the intent to write a book. That’s not entirely true. I always wanted to write a book and have kept notes and chapters of various manuscripts that never made it out of infancy. It was not ability or time that kept me from writing that first book. It was fear. Fear of failing.
I was so self-critical that nothing less than a bestselling great American novel would do. The specter of this made me afraid to start and afraid to finish.
Then I started to mature. I started to run marathons. I qualified for and started to run the Boston marathon. I was compelled to write as a purgative way to get rid of the constructive noise inside my head. It was all made possible when I stopped taking myself so damn seriously.
Instead of the great American novel I decided to just write. Instead of 200,000 words I wrote 1500 words in the time I had with the raw emotions and experience in my pockets.
I decided to write for myself. I decided to write for the trash can. With this decision and maturation I began to write. With this freedom from expectation, writing what I knew, speaking of the incredible journey, capturing the epiphanies and mundane, a great flood of creativity happened.
I was in my mid 30’s and this thing happened. This period of personal growth.
Out of this period of running and transformation and flood of narratives a stack of stories emerged. From this stack on a long vacation in Cape Cod I edited them together into a compilation, into a book.
That was the birth of The Mid-Packer’s Lament. Through this process I learned all the ins and outs of publishing. The cost of hard copy printing and the procurement of ISBN numbers. I got my book onto Amazon and it was cool. I even managed to sell a couple hundred copies.
Now the whole process seems embarrassingly simple. I forget how wonderful and special it was and is. I guess that is the way I am wired; always looking for the next thing, always distracted by the next shiny object.
Since that time I compiled another stack of stories into a second book and made it into an e-book. I am now editing the audio recording for the Mid-Packer’s Lament from which will emerge an audio book. And the wonders never cease.
It’s been a journey for me, and an adventure. I have learned not to hide my light under a bushel basket. I learned it is ok to put yourself out there. I have learned to set aside the expectations of the world and write for the most important ear, my own.
It’s a book of running stories. It is a book about a journey. It is a book of lessons learned, growth from striving and transformation. It is a labor of love and I’m proud to have brought it into the world.
Chris,