The Universe & The Scent Of A Woman
If you want to be a writer you have to do the work. You have to put in your time and figure out how to bend the words to your will. You have to tickle, squeeze, beg, slap, and bother them to change positions and assemble upon command. In between it all you have to read like a man possessed.
You have to stick your nose in books and newspapers about anything and everything. You have to cultivate an over developed curiosity about the world and ask why. You have to be willing to offend and praise.
Tell that woman she is the most exquisite and phenomenal creature you have ever seen.
Compliment her on her eyes and intellect and then explain that you are a writer and you want her to sleep with you for your next book. When she tells you to go to hell explain that you write what you know and you want to know her in the biblical sense.
Do this enough time and someone will say yes, or so I once heard.
“Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
The universe and I have an understanding about this. I told it that I was tired of being fed signs that weren’t direct and easily understood. I expressed a desire for clarity and it responded to me in a dream, promised that if I had faith and worked hard things would happen.
Well they happened and they happened again. My bet is that if I keep pushing they will continue to happen.
I can’t tell you if it is the universe making these things happen or if I am being rewarded by the efforts of my own labor and ultimately it doesn’t matter because what I want I get, or at least come close to.
I know things. I have seen things.
Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Out of order, I show you out of order. You don’t know what out of order is, Mr. Trask. I’d show you, but I’m too old, I’m too tired, I’m too fuckin’ blind. If I were the man I was five years ago, I’d take a FLAMETHROWER to this place! Out of order? Who the hell do you think you’re talkin’ to? I’ve been around, you know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen. Boys like these, younger than these, their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there isn’t nothin’ like the sight of an amputated spirit. There is no prosthetic for that. You think you’re merely sending this splendid foot soldier back home to Oregon with his tail between his legs, but I say you are… executin’ his soul! And why? Because he’s not a Bairdman. Bairdmen. You hurt this boy, you’re gonna be Baird bums, the lot of ya. And Harry, Jimmy, Trent, wherever you are out there, FUCK YOU TOO! Scent of A Woman
That is one of my favorite scenes in a movie. I love it. Don’t know why but it reminds me a bit of We Were Alone In The Stacks.
Maybe it is the passion and or fire. Maybe it is because it feels like Col. Slade is undergoing a reawakening and I am too.
Today was a day that I’ll remember because it was a day where I got a raise and a promotion. It was a day where I reminded myself that when you bust your ass you make good things happen.
When you push hard the universe conspires to push with you.
If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.
A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.
George Bernard Shaw
If you want to be a writer you have to be willing to just write. Send your words out for consumption and see if they are puked up and spit back at your or savored and delighted upon.
If you want to be a writer you have to risk having your heart savaged and your ego destroyed.
Failure to do these things may prevent you from being all that you can be, but what the hell do I know anyway. I am just a man banging away at the keyboard.