Such a permanent little sentence, isn’t it? One often imagines it as the closing of a book, a final moment of quiet pause before it returns to the dusty dry shelf. But books, while they may imitate life, aren’t life. Stories end, but life keeps on going along (or aloft, if you’d like). By the action of closing one book of your life, you create space for something new. When you really look at it, The End of one thing is merely the beginning of another.
This is The End of Going Aloft– well, in this present serialized incarnation, at least. I have high hopes the story will find its way into tangible printed book form (so I can, in fact, close it and move on), and one of my goals for 2017 is to make that happen. There’s a lot more to this story that I just didn’t have room for. Whole months of my life, actually, that I couldn’t quite squeeze into twenty-six 1,200-word chapters. They’re all saved in a file on my computer, somewhere, as well as in the more ethereal stream of memory and consciousness. Eventually they’ll make it out into the printed word; after that, who knows?
But it’s not The End of this website, or of my writing career. Expect great things from both in 2017. You can count on more On The Water essays for Salt, as well as two more short stories in encore, and hopefully a few more new publications will join in the fun. And there are many other adventures both already experienced and on the horizon which will someday solidify into words. My stated goal in life is to live an interesting one, then write about it, and that goal won’t be changing anytime soon.
If you’d like to come along for the ride (and I quite hope that you will), stay tuned. Click the “Like” button on Facebook if you haven’t already. If you enjoy my work and would like to sponsor it financially, please consider becoming a Patreon. Or just shoot me an email and tell me what you’d like to read more of. One of the great joys of this profession is meeting the people who join you on a journey which began as a very personal one, but, through the magic of language, became an experience more universal that you could ever have hoped. I’m honored that you have joined me for the telling of this story. I’ve learned so much in the past year, and I couldn’t have done it without you, reader dearest.
So I don’t think of this as The End, even though it is. Instead, I think of it as The Beginning of even wilder explorations into the sea and into ourselves, a continuation of the voyage which left home’s distant shores many years ago. The ultimate goal of the journey, the star we are steering towards, is the realization of a truth, specific or universal (for truth has many manifestations). Without the daily ground work of experience and creation and sharing, the high pillars we have built will crumble. I’ll keep doing my part, conjuring words and crafting sentences, if you keep doing yours. A writer needs a reader. I hope that you’ll stay one of mine.
So I thank you, so very much, for coming with me this far. Let’s go even further, together.
Going Aloft, Ch. 26