I was on the way home from work Tuesday evening when I had the sudden urge to stop at the Cahaba River. I was glad I did, and I recorded my thoughts about the experience.
The camera was hand-held, so the stability isn’t perfect. See the video below.
making sense of a dysfunctional culture
By David McElroy ·
I was on the way home from work Tuesday evening when I had the sudden urge to stop at the Cahaba River. I was glad I did, and I recorded my thoughts about the experience.
The camera was hand-held, so the stability isn’t perfect. See the video below.
By David McElroy ·
Katherine came to see me as soon as I got to dinner Monday night. She had told me bits and pieces in the past about an on-again, off-again relationship she’s had with a man, but I had never expressed an opinion about it — because she had never asked.
Tonight, she wanted advice.
Rick had seemed to be the man of her dreams. He was good looking, charming, attentive — and he seemed to be on his way to being successful. At first, their relationship had been great. They had started talking about a future together and it seemed as though her dreams were coming true. Then Rick suddenly backed off.
She didn’t know why. He didn’t break up with her. Not exactly. He just kept her at arm’s length and seemed more closed. He eventually pulled away more and more, going days without talking with her and making excuses not to see her. She felt that she was being discarded, very slowly.
But when another guy started pursuing her — and Katherine talked to Rick about breaking up — Rick professed love and pursued her again.
By David McElroy ·
There was a time when I was idealistic enough to believe that if a writer expressed his thoughts clearly and simply enough, any bright and honest person would understand his point. I know better now. We all bring so many unconscious assumptions to the things we read that we often see what we expect to see instead of what the writer intended. This is incredibly frustrating to me as a writer, but I’m trying more and more to just say what I need to say — as clearly as I know how — and then ignore the inevitable responses which show that others perceived something which was not intended. I have to write for those who “get” where I’m coming from, not for those who see my words through personal filters that change my meaning. I hope my intentions are clear to you and I hope what I write can be useful to you, but if not, maybe my work just isn’t right for you. And there’s nothing wrong with that.