JD.Dawson.Freelance.Writer
Since I have received countless favorable and encouraging reviews
of articles, websites, and blogs that I have written, I have decided
that I should turn one of my favorite hobbies, writing, into my new life long career.
I am being told, by many, that I should create them into eBook form
so that they may be sold on eBay and Kindle for all to have the joy of reading.
I have always known that I had the talent to become a writer. I wrote articles in school that were praised by the teachers, friends and classmates that I always got an "A" or "A+"on. It was why it was so easy for me to create all of our company documents, contracts, etc. that we used at Dawson Co., JD Dawson & Associates. But I really never thought of it as a trade, like I did with Architecture, drafting, estimating or owning a business.
I especially loved helping my grandma Figg proofread the articles she was crafting and loved being her assistant during the creation of one of her pieces. It is so very, very sad that people did not see her for what she had truly become. A very talented and gifted writer.
Now, granted, some of her hidden talent was of her own doing, since she insisted on writing under the ghost writer name of "Raven", which I swore to never divulge to anyone, especially family. Why?...because she wanted unbiased opinions of her work. Which is why on Sundays when a large portion of the family and relatives would gather at her home, she would all of a sudden pop the question to everyone..."Did any of you see that article about "The Woman At The Window" in the Sunday Star insert by the writer named Raven?"
Well now...there is no reason to persist on keeping her secret. I had hoped to help reclaim her name as a writer with the novel she worked so very, very hard on, day and night..."Grandma's House". What nobody knew is that the novel was close to being finished just before she died, but my Aunt Wilma and Uncle John sent my father and mother to my house to retrieve all of grandma's written possessions on the novel, once they realized that I had possession of all of it.
I have always known that I had the talent to become a writer. I wrote articles in school that were praised by the teachers, friends and classmates that I always got an "A" or "A+"on. It was why it was so easy for me to create all of our company documents, contracts, etc. that we used at Dawson Co., JD Dawson & Associates. But I really never thought of it as a trade, like I did with Architecture, drafting, estimating or owning a business.
I especially loved helping my grandma Figg proofread the articles she was crafting and loved being her assistant during the creation of one of her pieces. It is so very, very sad that people did not see her for what she had truly become. A very talented and gifted writer.
Now, granted, some of her hidden talent was of her own doing, since she insisted on writing under the ghost writer name of "Raven", which I swore to never divulge to anyone, especially family. Why?...because she wanted unbiased opinions of her work. Which is why on Sundays when a large portion of the family and relatives would gather at her home, she would all of a sudden pop the question to everyone..."Did any of you see that article about "The Woman At The Window" in the Sunday Star insert by the writer named Raven?"
Well now...there is no reason to persist on keeping her secret. I had hoped to help reclaim her name as a writer with the novel she worked so very, very hard on, day and night..."Grandma's House". What nobody knew is that the novel was close to being finished just before she died, but my Aunt Wilma and Uncle John sent my father and mother to my house to retrieve all of grandma's written possessions on the novel, once they realized that I had possession of all of it.
Then it was lost for all time,
withering away, decaying away in a drafty old garage where it was
stored none other but them. Forgotten like trash taken out to a
dumpster. Forgotten and kept from the rest of the world for
despicable, disgusting, foolish and near brain dead reasons that made
NO sense whatsoever.
Sorry, but when my Aunt Wilma died, I was not exactly grief strickened. In my eyes it took a very cold heart to take her mother's life work and throw it into an old drafty garage. Maybe that was her deep seeded revenge against her mother for something she hated her for. Why else would she have disposed of her mother's life work in such a way that she knew would eventually destroy it because of being exposed to the elements. It was as though that was her way of imposing slow death to her mother's life work. She did not even try to protect it by storing it in a safe place! Why!?!?!?!?!?! EVIL!!!!!!!!
I had regretted the day I went along with satisfying my parent's requests to hand over her life's work to those brainless idiots Aunt Wilma and Uncle John. I have never, nor will I ever, live that very, very stupid decision to not fight for what I knew my grandmother would have wanted. Had I known where Aunt Wilma and Uncle John were planning on storing grandma's life work, I would have NEVER gave ANY of it back REGARDLESS of what my parents, or anyone would have said!
Sorry, but when my Aunt Wilma died, I was not exactly grief strickened. In my eyes it took a very cold heart to take her mother's life work and throw it into an old drafty garage. Maybe that was her deep seeded revenge against her mother for something she hated her for. Why else would she have disposed of her mother's life work in such a way that she knew would eventually destroy it because of being exposed to the elements. It was as though that was her way of imposing slow death to her mother's life work. She did not even try to protect it by storing it in a safe place! Why!?!?!?!?!?! EVIL!!!!!!!!
I had regretted the day I went along with satisfying my parent's requests to hand over her life's work to those brainless idiots Aunt Wilma and Uncle John. I have never, nor will I ever, live that very, very stupid decision to not fight for what I knew my grandmother would have wanted. Had I known where Aunt Wilma and Uncle John were planning on storing grandma's life work, I would have NEVER gave ANY of it back REGARDLESS of what my parents, or anyone would have said!
It was many years later when I found
out where they had disposed of my grandmother's life work. I could
not help myself. I actually fell down to my knees cried
uncontrollably. It was though I was weeping for both my grandmother
and myself. I just could not believe what I was hearing!
The actual publication of her life's work in the form of a novel, WHICH she had intended on publishing in her REAL name, Lelia Figg. Why? Because it was her life's work that she wanted the world to know that SHE wrote, SHE created, SHE was putting her claim on, not just for the the rest of the world to see, but for other writer's far and wide to see. To see that SHE too, Lelia Figg, could create what would considered, by some, a master novel, a masterpiece.
My grandmother not only dreamed on my becoming a master pianist, but also a master in the art of writing. I have decided that I will devote part of my time to carry on her teachings that she so dearly devoted her very precious time to me and dreamed of my putting to good use one day.
Her words haunt me to this very day...when one day she said as she clasped her hands on both sides of my face...
She said ""Jimmy...I want to be a part of something great. I want to be a part of seeing that gleam my grandson's eye when he suddenly thinks of THAT perfect sentence, THAT perfect paragraph that he needs to put on paper before it escapes his mind. I can see it in you. I can feel it in you. I have nothing of value to give. You know that. I only have of myself. My teachings, I can give to you as a writer. It is all I have to give." I of course, humbly, accepted her so gracious offer.
I can still envision that day, so very clearly, I can still hear her voice cracking from age and ill health, ever so slightly, as I could see in her eyes that she was speaking from the depths of her soul. I still can not hold back the tears and a cry when reliving the event all over again. I NEVER want to forget one moment in time of that very dear and meaningful event. My grandmother and I formed a VERY special bond that day. One that I will always hold close in mind, heart and spirit, through eternity.
Grandma Figg would from time to time compare herself to grandma Dawson. Saying how grandma Dawson was able to do so much more than she could and could give more of herself, her gardening talents, her baking talents, having a car enabling her to drive to family homes, etc.
So I would try to confide in her the fact that grandma Dawson could not take of herself and put it on paper. That she did NOT have the talent to write a novel. THAT talent, a gift from God, was bestowed to only her. And that only SHE could give that of herself to any of us.
So now I guess I begin a new, but yet old unseen quest of becoming known, in my small way, as a writer. We will see where it takes me. You never know. Maybe that was my true life destiny after all. Some say that they discover themselves late in life. I have read hundreds of articles of that happening. Maybe this article for all of my readers to see will somehow, someday become an eBook within itself! Who knows? Another one of life's mysteries I guess.
The actual publication of her life's work in the form of a novel, WHICH she had intended on publishing in her REAL name, Lelia Figg. Why? Because it was her life's work that she wanted the world to know that SHE wrote, SHE created, SHE was putting her claim on, not just for the the rest of the world to see, but for other writer's far and wide to see. To see that SHE too, Lelia Figg, could create what would considered, by some, a master novel, a masterpiece.
My grandmother not only dreamed on my becoming a master pianist, but also a master in the art of writing. I have decided that I will devote part of my time to carry on her teachings that she so dearly devoted her very precious time to me and dreamed of my putting to good use one day.
Her words haunt me to this very day...when one day she said as she clasped her hands on both sides of my face...
She said ""Jimmy...I want to be a part of something great. I want to be a part of seeing that gleam my grandson's eye when he suddenly thinks of THAT perfect sentence, THAT perfect paragraph that he needs to put on paper before it escapes his mind. I can see it in you. I can feel it in you. I have nothing of value to give. You know that. I only have of myself. My teachings, I can give to you as a writer. It is all I have to give." I of course, humbly, accepted her so gracious offer.
I can still envision that day, so very clearly, I can still hear her voice cracking from age and ill health, ever so slightly, as I could see in her eyes that she was speaking from the depths of her soul. I still can not hold back the tears and a cry when reliving the event all over again. I NEVER want to forget one moment in time of that very dear and meaningful event. My grandmother and I formed a VERY special bond that day. One that I will always hold close in mind, heart and spirit, through eternity.
Grandma Figg would from time to time compare herself to grandma Dawson. Saying how grandma Dawson was able to do so much more than she could and could give more of herself, her gardening talents, her baking talents, having a car enabling her to drive to family homes, etc.
So I would try to confide in her the fact that grandma Dawson could not take of herself and put it on paper. That she did NOT have the talent to write a novel. THAT talent, a gift from God, was bestowed to only her. And that only SHE could give that of herself to any of us.
So now I guess I begin a new, but yet old unseen quest of becoming known, in my small way, as a writer. We will see where it takes me. You never know. Maybe that was my true life destiny after all. Some say that they discover themselves late in life. I have read hundreds of articles of that happening. Maybe this article for all of my readers to see will somehow, someday become an eBook within itself! Who knows? Another one of life's mysteries I guess.
Another adventure.
The Adventures of Jim &
Diane!
Love,
Jim
JD.Dawson.Freelance.Writer
jd.dawson.freelance.writer@gmail.com
317-759-3008
Love,
Jim
JD.Dawson.Freelance.Writer
jd.dawson.freelance.writer@gmail.com
317-759-3008
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