Back on the street again*

There's never a day that some young person or another doesn't ask my advice about pursuing a career in journalism. Most days, several do. Over the years, although I've always tried to be encouraging, I also always try to stress the following message: "Don't be like me."

This might seem to be hypocritical, but my advice has a certain logic to it. Twenty years ago, as I traversed my first mid-life crisis, I asked several writers I respect what I would have to do to become a great writer.

They all gave a similar answer, "Be selfish." One of those who advised me in this manner was Peter Matthiessen, a writer I admired, but whose advice I ultimately ignored.

Why? Because at the end of the painful personal and professional transitions that I was experiencing at that time, I chose love and family over the chance at greatness.

Do not read me wrong. I'm no saint, and there are a ton of reasons, some of which are psychological, that I have often turned away from the most aggressive or lucrative options in favor of something that feels more comfortable to me, as I am.

I have no illusions that I am a great writer. I know I am a good writer, but too much of my life is devoted to other pursuits -- raising my children, being a good friend to those who need me, and helping various non-profits and startups get off the ground, as regular readers of this blog understand very well.

Maybe I have followed Peter's advice in a different way; maybe I've been selfish about love and family, parenting and friendship. What I haven't done is focus on my own development as a writer. There is so much I still do not know, and therefore cannot do. Becoming a better writer requires a focus that I have never been willing to steal from the other aspects of my life.

There's more on all of this, but tonight is not the time to speak it. This is a dark night for me. My life and security have been upset; now I need to rest and consider what kind of new future might be possible.

Out where I'm hanging, the only one who can reach me is the greatest of all American poets:

*Im a rollin' stone all alone and lost
For a life of sin I have paid the cost
When I pass by, all the people say
Just another guy on the lost highway

...

Now boys dont start to ramblin' round
On this road of sin are you sorrow bound
Take my advice or youll curse the day
You started rollin down that lost highway

-- Hank Williams

-30-