Observations

Going Incommunicado


I’m going to reduce my online writing for a short while – I am in the process of writing a third book, and I only have so many brain cells left to run my body and think of things to write, too. It’s a safety measure. I’d hate it if my heart stopped beating because I was thinking too hard.

The working title of the new book is “Shooting The Rapids in a Paper Kayak.” Here’s the introduction as it currently stands:

It’s 3:30 AM, and I need to write. I don’t know why – perhaps it’s because I can feel the ability to express myself slipping, and I still have things to say.  Perhaps it’s because I want you to read this, and say “aww, he’s still in there.” Perhaps I actually do have something useful to say, and God (or the Universe, or Ghu, or Xenu, or Whomever) wants me to say it. We both can decide later – I’ll finish writing, and hopefully you’ll finish reading.

This is my third book. The first was difficult to write, and at times I didn’t want to finish.  The second was still painful, but somewhat easier.  This one is more insistent, although I’m still not completely sure what it wants to be.  I just know it wants out.

I was not a very good writer in my previous life, before Parkinson’s disease. I was clear and precise, a technical writer, and the most effusive praise I received was that I wrote “just like a textbook.” I wrote for ease of understanding, but I was much more comfortable avoiding messy emotions or topics without clear answers. I was like that in person, too – interesting, but a little dry and hard to warm up to.

Parkinson’s disease has shaken something loose.  I may not be a better writer, but I write about better subjects. I may not be a better person, either, but I feel more deeply, and I have a better understanding of how important relationships are. These concerns exist within a mind that was trained first as an engineer, and then as a warrior of sorts. Somehow, it’s still all me. This book is an attempt to lay the pieces out and join them together.  You’re brave to come along.

During our journey, you may be angry; you may laugh; you may cry; you may even decide to stop reading. It’s okay. Although I write for you, I write for me, too. I know the boat is a little leaky, but it’s still capable of handling the rapids. And, although I don’t know precisely where we’ll end up, it’ll be a helluva trip.

2 thoughts on “Going Incommunicado

  1. vtelfhouse@gmail.com

    Loved this, Corey! You were always a great communicator and one of the funniest folks I worked with/for. I do miss our good times and am glad this hasn’t kept you down one bit! Funny how our personal challenges make us even stronger than we ever thought we could be, eh? Rooting for you all the way!

    Wendy H.

    Sent from my happy mobile world to yours!

    >

    Like

  2. Marty

    I’m really looking forward to reading your new book Corey. As you know, I’m going through a slightly similar situation myself and combined with the natural aging process, I always have to find new ways to achieve the simplest of tasks… I can do most things but it’s not nearly like it was. Reading your stories is validation and fresh understanding for me. I love the humor and positivity you emote while being fully aware of the situation. Anyway, I’m really looking forward to your book.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s