Inspired to Flight

Sorry if this is boring you, but the walk down memory lane is just so refreshing (to me). I just came across a letter I wrote which confirms most of the earliest Swords of Fire work no longer exist.

This post ideally belongs on SOF - The People, and I actually started it there, but it ties closely to my earlier post on this blog, I Saved the Knife. The letter appears to be a dedication. I'm going to transcribe part of it. (If you think I'm dramatic now, wait until you read this.) NOTE: The Endos are an obsolete idea.

The organizing and compiling of the records of Madatar and the Endo family began in the year 1974. Ten years later they were still nothing more than fragmented thoughts within my mind, having no way to escape their prison and so find themselves in print in one form or another. Several times I tried to begin the tedious work of putting the many differnt thoughts down on paper, but always I would give up and cease the work, destroying the efforts which I had labored over. I lacked the necessary motivation to finish a work with the required energy and drive. I doubted the interest of others in the records of Madatar and the Endos.

Then, nearly ten years after their beginnings, the records were subjected to yet another effort of will to be written once for all. An interesting twist came about this time, however, and I found myself with a reader who eagerly sought to learn more about the Endos and how their lives became intertwined with that of Madatar's. The records themselves could not be altered, but [I was given*] considerable aide in helping me to present the records in readable form. Thus, from simple outlines of rough copy, [I was*] helped (me) to share with any who held interest the fascinating world of The Great Sea. [The*] eagerness to hear me tell a tale of history was the needed motivation to put me on the road to finishing the work and completing and fulfilling a lifelong dream: to be a writer.

* = replacement text added today

My first reaction to this letter is that it is horribly written. My second reaction is that I owe a lot to the one who became the catalyst for so much of what I have written and aspired to write. Before this, the only work I can remember finishing was The Monsters, which I wrote a bit about on The Great Sea, What Came Before May Be What Comes Next. This work became one of the many destroyed pieces of my creativity.

When the friendship died, so (apparently) had my creativity. I talk about working for thirty years on Swords of Fire, but the truth is after 1988 I let it sit unattended for a good many years. I made myself content to live a dull life doing a dull job until such time that I just quietly died myself.

And then Stephen found me again.

Within a year of his return I was writing. I picked up Swords of Fire and tried correcting the flaws I found. It was hard. I had never done this work alone before, but all attempts at enlisting past help were met with excuses - or silence. Yet I had Stephen, and while he was no help whatsoever in helping me improve my story, he was still inspirational. I was happy to have him back in my life. I think I spent the first six months of our reunion apologizing for letting so many years pass. Finally, he told me to knock it off. He got the message.

When he died, once again my creativity went to sleep. But Stephen had left me with something to keep me going. Stephen made the rounds with all of his friends in the last month before his death, leaving each with their own private admonition. The last words he spoke to me went thus:

"Bevie, I want you to remember your friends. Never forget your friends. And keep writing, Bevie. Don't ever quit writing. Ever."

Stephen died by accident on April 4, 2000. Lynahr died on September 11, 2001. It would take until 2003 before I would again take up the keyboard. Stephen is not around to inspire, but his words remain. There is a phrase I said about myself back in the early 90s. I said it then as sarcasm. Now I think it is true.

I Am an Eagle. It's Time I Learned to Fly!