I’m new on Prism & Pen. This is my way of saying hello to Prism & Pen’s and Medium’s interested members. I hope it will be an entertaining and insightful introduction to a man who’s been on the planet a long time and has a chest full of adventures, triumphs, and defeats to relate.
Thanks for noticing.
Steve Alexander (alxfyv.Medium@gmail.com)
I’m a retired attorney. (The lawyer is the short-tempered, surly, mealy-mouthed, little SOB on the other side.) I love the English language. I love writing. I was a word mercenary beating up horribly on horrible people. Society not only approved…
In his article 100 Day Challenge For New Writers, Dr Mehmet Yildiz challenges new writers to follow several goals and gives several tips to increase their success. He urges them to produce an article a day for 100 days. One suggestion he offers to help make that happen is:
Post regularly. Send at least one post per day for the next 100 days. This is a crucial point. Don’t try to be perfect.
I’m afraid I must disagree.
I can’t help trying to be perfect. I don’t know how not to. It’s hardcoded in my DNA. It’s been a prominent…
Saying, “I love you,” is a scary thing. It should be. One should be frightened to one’s toenails. One should have no wits about oneself, they having fled on hummingbird wings out the portal. One should flutter in dread as rapidly as those wings.
To say “I love you” is the ultimate vulnerability; it’s an exposure to rejection, devastation, and betrayal.
But that very vulnerability is the best thing about loving. It is the most profound treasure one can vouchsafe to another.
A quarter-century ago, I gave that treasure in a poem to Ray, who crossed my path on his…
>>"Do you always read ...?"
For others' articles that appeal to me or interest me, I scan most all the comments and read many with care, especiallly where, as here, I've taken the trouble to highlight passages. For my own, I read every comment, but, lamentably, that's not a burdensome task. There are far too few for my preferences. (More about that in a bit.)
>>"Do you write ...?"
Again, when I'm interested. I don't write "nice job," or "great article." That's what claps are for. And, no, I don't reflexively clap 50 times every time. …
Do you always read comments from your own and others’ articles? Do you write comments? And why do you comment on a story? Do you feel put out if people don’t comment on your articles or reply to your comments?
Don't try to be perfect!?
I can't help it. I don't know how not to. It's as integral a part of me as my love of men. It's hard coded in my DNA. Like my sexual orientation, it's been a noticeable part of me since I can remember.
In Philadelphia in the early 80s, I was with a small law firm of 18 or so attorneys. My mentor was the firm's number-two man. He came to me after about six months and said, "Alexander, there's such a thing as being too perfect. It's more important to get it done and…
Don’t try to be perfect. We can never be. There is no such thing as perfect in real life. The optimal solution is to make pr…
Dr Mehmet Yildiz
You toss that line off so blythely it hurts.
"He" brought "his" husband.
You say it so smoothly, as if it's a right thing, as if it's 'the' right thing.
I am sad and happy, angry and envious at one and the same time. For the first sixty-two years of my gay life (1953-2015), no one I ever knew could have safely said such a thing. That you did, here, in writing, with no apparent concern, struck me like an open-palm slap to the face. I can feel my cheek smart even as I write.
My sadness, anger, and envy…
…In my entire life, I’ve never been happier to see another human being as much as I am to see Roger. He’s brought his husband, David, with him as well.
My third and last year in San Francisco was my last in law school, 1978. It was May. School was out. I had my law degree but not yet a license to practice. For that, I would have to pass the California Bar Exam. It was demanding and back-breakingly punishing. It was notorious for its high failure rate. It was coming that July.
I enrolled in a preparatory course — seven grueling weeks, ten hours a day Monday through Friday, six hours on Saturday. Plus three hours of essays to write each evening. There were perhaps 200 in my section…