Floundering again April 14, 1985

 


Dear Rita:

Ah yes, it’s me again. A long break in communication, I know.

Things are harder than I’d like to admit, even to myself. Down times crash in on me, and only then let me think clearly – clear by dismal.

The last time we saw each other you confronted me with an essential truth, which I was not at the time capable of accepting.

I’m not saying I’m any more capable now, or more stable or secure, but I am in charge of my senses and can see the inscription of truth here and there, even though it is painful.

Realizing my own ignorance is perhaps one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. And in ignorance, I am hardly blissful.

My writing seems to collapse under its own weight, a bunch of useless words strung together without merit or meaning.

I am, after all, just a 10th grade dropout with all the ego problems that entails. Although I do think I have at times something to show for that ego such as Scrap Paper Review and a few stories worthy of being published.

I am writing to you because a gap has opened up in my life. I’ve come to understand the limitations created by my lack of basic skills and I don’t know how to catch up. Or how to start making my stories work. They don’t presently. Not for the reason you quoted last fall. I’ve crossed that hurtle (almost) and now see the miles of hurtles still ahead. Many of them are personal. Many of them care created by own blatant stupidity as a youth, and stubbornness as an adult.

I’m in a down time currently, and down times are always tough, caused by circuses in and out of writing. But these are also times for reflection that leads to new discoveries. The depression last fall led to a batch of story writing that was better than before. Now, the words have lost meaning again. I seem forever to be writing junk, and it hurts.

I seem incapable of seeing my own mistakes as I write. So, the warped version is the version that seems correct.

Anyway, this is an apology for my silence with hopes that you have not lost too much faith in this currently floundering soul.

 

Yours always

Al Sullivan



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