Posted on by Phil Strawn

Why I Missed My Calling as a Writer


I was born too late to meet my calling as a writer. Instead of being birthed in 1949, I should have appeared in 1931, no later than 1933, then I may have had a fighting chance. By the time I began writing about serious topics, I was in high school, in the mid-1960s. We had the Vietnam War, Hippies, rock music, and pot to contend with. Writing about Hippies held no interest for me, but the war, music, and politics did, and so I wrote a few things for my high school paper and journalism class that brought instant grief my way. My mentor and writing coach, Mrs. Mischen, chastised me for the language I used, which, in retrospect, was a bit crude and too hip for a high school paper. However, she also gave me an “atta-boy” for having the courage to put myself out there. I wasn’t anti-establishment, anti-war, or anti-Hippie; I wasn’t anti-anything: only a rock musician playing in a popular band, and that’s about all I had to offer the world at that point. That’s why I should have been a writer in the 1950s, hanging out in the Village with Kerouac and Boroughs, and even Hemingway and Steinbeck in late-night bars, smoking unfiltered cigarettes, drinking whiskey, and arguing about the fate of America after the two recent wars that had led to a drastic shift in our country. I would have been a perfect cohort. Instead, I spent my childhood years writing in a Big Chief Tablet about neighborhood shenanigans and mailing my articles to the Fort Worth Press, hoping for a spot in the Sunday news, all the time, believing I was the incarnation of Mark Twain. Now, I’m too damn old to be the incarnation of anyone, and can’t remember what to write, and can’t find my notebooks full of ideas.

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27 Replies to “Why I Missed My Calling as a Writer”

  2. Keep on writing anyway. Words matter, especially when presented in complete sentences by someone skilled in their use. And genuine humor is welcome in this all too somber age.

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  3. Those authors would have been great to meet…also in the twenties and thirties they had the Algonquin Round Table which I would have loved to hear the remarks they made by Robert Benchley and Alexander Woollcott.

    I’m glad you are doing it now anyway!

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  4. I actually do understand what you mean. In particular ways you carry the spirit of those writers forward so those of us who appreciate them & still benefit with joy.

    You were practically born to write and I get excited each time you have a new post out.

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    1. Thank you, Jack and Dodie. I am blushing, but it might also be my blood pressure being a bit high tonight. Those folks influenced me more than I ever wanted to admit, and I must be careful not to plagiarize or channel their spirits, except on Halloween. I told my parents early on that I was born a decade or more to late. They thought I was an insulant little brat, which I was at times, but later in life, they agreed.

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  5. Your reflective writings are either thought-provoking, imaginitive, or comical-or all three. Erma Bombeck didn’t need to write a novel to make people laugh or think. Thanks for the great reads, Phil. 🙂

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      2. Sometimes we have to get our younger selves out of the way, experience the hard times, learn from them, and then around 50 or so we become reflective on our lives and try to pursue what we wanted to decades before. I hear what you are saying, and told to your students.

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  7. hang in there, Phil: it’s not too late for a short story or poetry collection or two: you’ve got plenty to say, you’ve got your own style, the world is waiting for a new voice: surprise yourself, set to work: you never know what may come up !!

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      1. pleasure, Phil; I have four or five poetry collections and am STILL working on a short story collection; me and the possibility of a novel have parted from each other long ago —-

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      2. Like the Mexican bandit said in Fistful of Dollars, ” Novel? We don’t need no stinking novel.” Hope that was the right movie. At this point poetry and short stories will do. Steinbeck wrote more intriguing short stories than novels, as did Hemingway and Capote.

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  8. I seem to have a bit of a connection to Mark Twain.
    (1) We bear a certain resemblance to each other (full head of hair; long moustache; general facial structure).
    (2) We were both born and raised in Missouri.
    (3) We both moved to Nevada and spent time in California.
    (Sadly, there’s no Connecticut connection.)
    (4) We both speak some French and have traveled to France.
    (5) We both have a witty sense of humor.
    (6) We both have a keen interest in religion and politics.
    (7) We both have written feature articles and novels.
    (8) Mark Twain wrote poetry, sang, and played the guitar; I write rhymed lyrics for a guitarist/singer.
    (9) Samuel Langhorne Clemens published under his real name as well as under his pen name, Mark Twain. I publish fiction under my real name but lyrics under my Sacem alias, LividEmerald.

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    1. Still trying to figure out which book to write. Should it be on my father’s history in country music, my history in rock and country, or about my street-rat crazy family on both sides and all they put me through? Still formulating.

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    1. Not to forward at all, I appreciate your input, and I have once again started today. A wise old Texan once told me that forgiveness comes from God, but if God is busy greeting folks or creating something, eat two Whataburger’s and say a prayer to Saint Willie and all will be good. Thanks for checking in and welcome to the Cactus Patch.

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