What makes a person believe he or she can attempt something truly outrageous and accomplish it? I've asked similar questions in the past. This tendency can be seen as bravery, foolhardy, naivete, even presumptuous ego or pride, and contempt for others to conceive of being so individually deserving of esteem or accolade.
At times in life I've been labeled with all of the above, simultaneously admired and despised from differing vantage. My intent never differs however: seize the chance to make the most of myself, to grow in experience. Compelled, as I've mentioned before, by
personal philosophies.
Not to upstage or overshadow the work of others though (an accusation I've suffered now and again); my aim is not the spotlight, only the pinnacle of my own self. That peak may exist in the dark unknown to the world, but with the drive satiated I am whole and at peace.
The limited accomplishments I've enjoyed serve to encourage me, upping the octane on the already highly charged entrepreneurial fuel. If the Nth-of-a-percent possibility of success is truly out there, wouldn't it be great if...? This is why I've gone so far as to verbalize
DaVinci, and why I now pour energy as it flows freely (at times unbidden) on a new series of ideas for (at least) a trilogy of novels.
I've allowed this to derail a few other long-standing but steadily moving objectives for now. The transcription of one of my
piano compositions, notes on a short story and prior novel concept I've been refining - the DaVinci initiative itself. Too many irons in the fire, maybe? I won't argue. But so long as they make progress, however scant, they serve their purpose of offering me refinement.
I'm just nuts enough though to believe that this latest idea has sufficient merit to survive to some stage of completion, and to become profitable. The original concept began life as a classic sci-fi "what if," with an added flavor from the writer's dream-book of untamed scenarios. Highly implausible, but too tantalizing to drop immediately out of hand. I began to think backward into what arrangement of the stars and fates might conceivably produce that rare intersection of realities able to stand with only standard-issue Suspension of Disbelief.
The prologue resulting from the exercise is tantalizing in its own right, suitable to bring to life as more than back-story and extending the potential tale by a book to a book and a half. Copious material has come along with it to round out the original "what if" into a more mature and engaging proposition. I've been slamming it into every device within reach, onto every page in uniform but inscrutable scrawl, outlining and drafting and spewing pieces to a large and unorganized puzzle. The challenge now is to complete the assembly with a glue of prose entertaining to a reader and capable of carrying the complexity which has resulted in the abstract rough-draft of the following timeline:
