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Frankly Speaking,

There often come times in human affairs, where we do things or say things, which are not well enough planned or thought out. These words and actions, may be described, as impetuous. Some people are more impetuous than others, and consequently, they often have shoe leather breath. If it weren’t for frequent brushing and mints, my plight would be the same. I am, too often, one of the more impetuous members of the species.

There is much evidence of my impetuosity, on this thread, from beginning to end. I just want you all to know that I recognize that.

After years of thinking, I might want to write something, the most I had achieved was a few halfhearted starts on outlines and first pages. Then recently, I said, “Outline be damned, just write something.” So I knocked out “Ward Nineteen,” not knowing where it was going, just wanting it to end. I spent a couple of days on it, taking out half the flaws and leaving a multitude.

At last, I was able to say, “I wrote a story.” I wanted to rush it out before others, to get the aforementioned feedback. Unfortunately I posted it in this lonely thread where it will sit and waste into oblivion - not to say that I don't recognize and appreciate, the positve comments from most.

We could perhaps, liken the careers of many authors, to the discovery and development of black powder... Some chinese guy was playing with some ingredients, maybe trying to make a better omelette. He probably haphazrdly threw some ingredients in to the pan, the flames licked the pan, and there was a flash in the pan... He probably messed his pants, and then started wondering if he could duplicate the reaction. Undoubtedly, that first guy ended up losing a finger or two, at the least...

Anyway, to cut the rant, I have a little talent. As a writer, I am still in the stage of infancy. With patience, diligence, and clarity of purpose, I may eventually, write something that I do not have to make apology for. I just wanted to let you know, that I know, that you know, but

Don’t cry for me, Argentina,

Wallace Freedman

PS.

For any that might wonder; I make no claims, and have no delusions of mistaking myself for the great and Holy, Elisha. I impetuously chose the name, because I have a great deal of admiration for him, one of the Holiest, and most interesting figures of the Bible. My first choice in this vein, was actually, Elijah.

The story of Elijah gives me a sense of the Might and Power of our God. It gives comfort to ponder that Elijah had actually witnessed so many miracles of God, and, because he was a mere mortal, still came to a point, where he temporarily lost faith in God’s protection, and had a moment of pride, when he assumed that he was the last Holy man left. God still loved him enough to send a chariot, for his trip home.

That gives me great hope, that at the very least, there will be a seat for me, on the last bus.