It's very important to me that I focus on getting some work done and researching these writing projects. It helps me keep my mind off the medical and my personal problems. I'm dreading the holidays. Social nightmare. Isolation has really helped calm my spirit. That thing with the house flooding makes me nervous about being away. I need to be very careful. I don't handle stress the same anymore. No one lives forever. I need to focus my energy on completing some life goals. Before its too late. I cant waste more time. Ive wasted enough. Life's too short for going through motions. I still have to play along, but really I'm going to need to simply say it how it is sometimes. Never was a social butterfly. Can't expect that to change now.

Memories and emotions can be intense. That's why I like to keep some space between me and other people. I need to be careful with memories. Very careful. A mind can play tricks on you, like a bad dream. 

    I had a lot of memories come up today. It's better that I don't discuss certain memories. Some things... it's better for everyone that certain things are not discussed. Sometimes the past can stir up resentments, fear, or sorrow. There are some days that sleep is my only real escape. Sometimes, there is no solution. 

Research - Honor

    Honor was very important in the old South. I want this story to give a realistic picture of South Carolina in the 1860s. That's why I'm spending this time on research. It's not about proving anything. People I know have already made up their minds about me. I've tried many times in my life to impress people. I've had some spectacular failures. I'm not trying to prove anything about me. That's a fool's errand. There's people I know that think they have me all figured out. The hospital, for starters. Sometimes I still try to prove the hospital wrong, but a lot of people I gave up. I can't hold onto the past. I can't relitigate and play out the same old narratives, the same old arguments, the same old appearances. I could do that from now until the end of time, it would make no difference but make me miserable. I try to keep my distance. I don't have the energy for that kind of thing. 

    It took me a while to realize that I can't change people's minds. They have to want to change their beliefs, and most people don't want to do that. It's that famous saying about arguing... no one changes their mind in the end. I don't want to litigate my life story. I'll lose every time. It's not going to help anyone to relitigate my story. There is something I can do, however. I can try to do justice to a story about Greenville. I don't think it will be so hard to do that, because it's not about me, thank God. I may have been born here, but my family isn't from here. So, hopefully I can be impartial, because I really want to give a true sense of what Greenville was like back then. 

    There were a lot of sons that went to war, and I'm writing this story about sons. Young men have something to prove, if not to their fathers, then to society. There were a lot of young men that went off to war back then. Hopefully I can illustrate what it was like to live through that. 

    For example, there was a family that was very important to Greenville that I have mentioned, the Earle family. There were many Earle's fighting not just for the South, there were some fighting for the North, though I don't know if the Northern ones were related in any way. The Southern ones included some brothers and cousins. Joseph Earle became a Senator. Alexander Campbell Earle moved to Alabama to farm. George Washington Earle moved back to Anderson. Lieutenant Claudius Eugene Earle commanded Company B of the 4th Volunteers at Stone Bridge, Battle of Bull Run, and shortly thereafter jumped from the sixth floor of the Ballard House Hotel in Richmond. It's not clear why he committed suicide. He left a letter with instructions on distributing his property and referring to slanders made against him regarding a young woman. 

    Sometimes honor can drive men to do strange things. If I can learn enough and work out the plot and the dialog, then perhaps I can illustrate what honor led the men of Greenville to do. Or perhaps not. But I intend to try. That is what I hope to accomplish. With everyone so concerned about what I do and so confused as to the reasons, I've lost the desire to explain myself. It's exhausting. But I think I can explain Greenville. Anyways, I'm confident that explaining Greenville will be a lot easier then playing the appearances game. 

    Meanwhile, I have to finish getting all the paperwork in order for Accountec to start doing deliveries. 

Civil War Era Greenville

    I've been fascinated by this research into Civil War Greenville and it's inspiring me to consider writing multiple historical fictions. I find history so interesting. 

    From what I've discovered so far there were no major bridges across the Reedy in 1861, as the main street bridge wasn't built until the 1870s. The railroad connection to Columbia had only recently been finished. Greenville County tends to name most roads based on where they lead, though it turns out Parkins mill road wasn't the original Parkins Mill road. Originally, the road leading from Augusta Road was not called Mauldin Road. Before Mauldin existed, before even Butler Crossing existed, Mauldin road was Parkins Mill road. It led from Augusta road (The main trading road) to Parkins' old Mill, currently the site of the sewage treatment plant, which was built after the city of Conestee (Just down the Reedy River past Lake Conestee) sued Greenville for dumping raw sewage and industrial waste into the Reedy in a case that went to the state supreme court twice. 

    The Reedy became the most polluted river in the state and it is still advised not to swim in the water because it is supposedly too contaminated with E. Coli bacteria from human and animal waste. Some sources also advise that you don't fish in the River. At one point the Reedy had a nickname. It was called the Rainbow Reedy, because dyes from the textile mills changed it different colors. 

    Furman University was still located in Greenville during the city war and in fact it is said that James Clement Furman was instrumental in convincing Greenville to vote for succession, as it was traditionally a unionist stronghold. The University was located off of University Ridge Road where the old County square offices await demolition in preparation for a new commercial development that I believe will feature a rooftop cinema. Before it was county offices and after Furman left it had been an indoor mall. 

    Furman was closed during the civil war, as young men were expected to serve and many did, though Greenville was relatively untouched by the civil war and became a refuge for deserters and draft dodgers, especially in the North. The Baptist Female College (Furman's women's college) remained open at the corner of Academy and College streets. 

    Many of the families that the roads are named after (Earle, Caper, Elford, Perry, Jones) were involved in this time period of Greenville history and fought in the Civil War. I'm still tracking down family histories and I need to visit the library. 

    The city is coming alive to me in new ways as I learn more and map out the development. I'll have to compile some of what I find. I've yet to find one online source of Greenville Civil War history. It wasn't particularly eventful so many sources gloss over it. There was, however, an ambulance factory (the former Carriage factory whose building still stands by the Reedy downtown) and an ammunition factory.

    I want to have something to leave behind. After the dust has settled and the talk has died, I want there to be something left... something real. I want people to be able to read and feel connected to the story. I want them to feel like they are part of it. I want to connect with people through the words the way great writers do. Hopefully I can do that. 

    I don't like leaving the house. I worry about social pressures. I worry about intentions. I used to blend in somehow. That's become harder. 

    I want people to really know me. If I use the right words, then they can. I have to find the right words. I don't want to force my words or presence on anyone. But I want people to really know me. Words are elusive. And if I don't find the words, the narratives will be built anyways, and I'll be shut out. I took for granted that I would find the words. That people would know me. But if I don't find the words, what will they say about me? Judging from experience, nothing good.

    I have to find the words. Before it's too late. I really don't know if I'll find them all. I want to be able to give the world something meaningful. Something of true value. 

    What worries me is that I may fail to bring the characters to life. Social interaction hasn't been so easy in recent years. Not that I was ever a social butterfly. Will I be able to write lifelike people if I don't grasp all the social complexities? I need to be cautious. I don't have the energy to keep running into walls.

    I've gotten a touch distracted. I need to take great care. My desire is to finish some fiction. Something that people can enjoy. I'm still building up a well of projects. I'm generating ideas. I cannot afford to let myself neglect this.