Do Not Go Gently . . . Third Clue . . . May 4, 2006

The Brave Few . . . May 4, 2006

Do Not Go Gently . . . Third Clue.

First and foremost, you see, I am a writer. I live to write and I ramble. I ramble because I don’t like to outline. My reasoning is selfish and maybe my efforts show. But you’ve got to see I want to take the same journey as the reader, to feel what they feel, to cry where they cry, to laugh where they laugh. The only way is to write not knowing what voyages lie ahead . . . And that leads to one of my secrets, I never know what I’m going to write until I write it. Find every passion.

And so, I am in the final edits of my new book, “Sins of a Father”. It’s a rough story of a boy who loses his father at the age of five and how it takes him on a winding course . . . My journey has been long and hair pulling, but it’s always worth the effort. As every writer that writes a novel, a first novel, I was surprised by the length, 330 pages, over 100,000 words. But all my life has lead toward the day the day I knew I was a writer . . .

How does anyone know what they’re supposed to be? Does a carpenter know before he pounds his first nail? When does a dentist know? How does a writer? That’s easy, we write, we have to write, each and every day. It’s not work, it’s my passion. My goal has always been to write something worthy of being read . . . You see I graduated from college at the age of 38. I’ve been to five schools and finally, I decided to finish. It was hard at first, I couldn’t write for spit . . . But after 1500 pages, I learned to carry a phrase.

The classes, I had left, were the ones no one likes to take, those the universities say round you. At age 38, I was ready. My last class before I graduated was an art. Watercolor, oils, chalk . . . It was my easiest “A”.

It was then I knew . . . I was in the wrong field. You see, I was a computer geek, after twenty years, learning eighteen computer languages and 15 operating systems. I could build and maintain any system. But that’s not my point . . . You see I struggled, from a lowly computer operator to CIO, Chief Information Officer. Sure I was successful, I was driven. But I never knew I wasn’t happy, until I found art. At that point I found the other half of my brain. You know the feeling of being full after Thanksgiving dinner, well that’s the way my brain felt. But that’s all in the past . . . And five years ago, on a trout stream, I had an epiphany, I became a writer.

Do you believe in God? I do. Do you believe in miracles? I’ve seen them. And one found me, on a trout stream, on an overcast day with two of my fishing buddies. Not your normal types of buddies. My buddies didn’t seem angelic at the time. You see, they walk on four legs, scratch and sniff in places well we just don’t like to mention. One was a cute little white pooch and the other a young lab.

Everyone that fish the Blue, knows my friends, only I’m not sure they see them for who they are. And every time I write this story, those two become more and more heroic champions of my heart, because that day becomes more and more important to me.

This is getting kind of long so I will end this by saying, To Be Continued . . .

Dan Hanosh
Dreams Are Yours To Share

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