2000-11-01 - 19:26 MST

November 1, 2000

There But For The Grace

Good day here for me, got a little of the first of the month jazz taken care of, then went to the Mall with Heather. She left me at Barnes and Noble and told me she would come back for me when she was done and ready to go,

Heaven ? Yes heaven, for a little while I was happy to wander the aisles, pick up marvelous books and scan them a bit. Then to the book I had been drooling about, Stephen King's "On Writing."

I found a comfortable seat in good light and for two hours I existed as an acolyte at the foot of his adored master. I have always admired his ability to use words to their utmost meaning, with all the fat fried off, the nitty gritty, "right in the face" story. Not anything extraneous - just the fascinating story.

I went to the back of his book and read it first. He tells about writing, but the thing that was greatly inspiring was his account of being hit while walking at the side of the road, and the road to recovery he is still walking. It is easy for me to relate to as it is only a short time since our disastrous car accident. Short time ? Seems like it in ways and yet seems like more years than it has been. Sept 5, 1997, wow, over three years ago. Long agonizing months of recovery and physical therapy, some of which I still do on my own. And then realizing that there will be some residuals that will be with me for all time to come. It is pretty clear in my mind still - that which I was amnesiac about then - always will be that way, the blank spots never will be filled in, they will just be like stories told to me by some one in whose words I firmly believe. What my mind and memory have stitched together is pretty complete and contains the facts of the incident. It may be clear to me yet beause of the frequent nightmares I still experience -- awaking from a horrific nightmare and sitting on the edge of the bed -- putting myself back into the real world.

Differences between him and I -- the agonizingly long time to regain his ambulatory abilities, his multiple bone breakage and consequent surgeries and pain -- his external splints to keep his leg immobile at the knee joint. The dreary, weary physical therapy that he has undergone and probably still is yet.

I have been lusting for his book ever since I heard it was out, and after I read his recent story "Hearts In Atlantis," which was deeply stirring and yet right to the point. I was longing more yet to read his book on writing.

Getting into the front part of his book on writing, it is a smashing hit to me already. The magic words ? Strunk and White ! I hit S&W every now and then and try to follow their precepts, haltingly, but the effort is there.

I hope that his marvelous command of words and meanings and the study of his book will help me work and improve my writing and communication of ideas. I have always felt that he could write in any genre if he wished to. His book "On Writing." looks to me as if his non-fiction will be as riveting and informative as his fiction. His descriptions and conveyance of the meanings and moods in fiction usually puts me in the body of the main character as if I had inhabited it from birth.

So, it has been a good day, a few productive things done plus the enjoyable hours spent in Barnes and Noble starting into, "On Writing." Then a meal at "Soup and Salad" and home to read more in the desired book.

When I feel sorry for myself and moan to me about my troubles and hurts, all I need to do is look about me and think, "There but for the grace of God, go I."

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