Here’s where I’m supposed to put something profound, I suppose. But the older I get (I’m 70, and don’t look like that photo on the left any more; the real me is below. But it has been 50 years, more or less!), the more I realize that shooting for profundity is a trap.
On April 22, at 8:24, a Sunday morning, my wife, best friend and confidant of almost 50 years died at home of cancer. That followed a brutal four months of hospitalizations and Hospice care, and I handled most of it in a daze. Enough time has passed, though. The house we rebuilt over 26 years is sold, and I’m taking a few months to live on the road, headed to the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps we’ll meet there sometime. Tonight, I’m in Wyoming, in the high desert west of Cheyenne. The wind is down out of Canada tonight, cool and dry, and the clouds are scudding across the full moon and I hear coyotes nearby.
I’m guarding against becoming comfortable, complacent. Something has awoken, and the Latin in the old family motto from the old days in the old country (England) is prodding me: “Nosce te Ipsum”. Know thyself. Yea and verily, I live in constant fear that I’ll fail to notice that I’m just phoning it in. Times’ too short to stand still.
But here’s a brief biography:
- Member, Academy of American Poets.
- Published a book of poems: “I Came From a Place of Fireflies”, available at the link, on Amazon.
- 10 years out of college working in a city office in Ohio as a fraud investigator/mediator
- Two years in grad school, walked away with a master’s in journalism (University of Oregon. Go Ducks! Unofficial motto: “Northwest of Normal”)
- Six years in voluntary slavery as a reporter and editor—aka “ink-stained wretch” aaka “paid informant”—at two newspapers, where I reported on local politics and everything else from high school sports to swine judging at the county fair; I then variously was a news editor, an assistant city editor and a managing editor at that paper and one other. I acquired a love of newspapers, of conciseness; I also absorbed and nurtured a hatred of lazy writers and dumb rich people (my advertisers, my publishers and the drones at Corporate).
- Ironically, I’ve become a lazy writer. I’m gonna kick my own ass. That’s why I’m here.
- Since the the news biz festival of joy days, I spent 26 years at a large university as a writer and editor, and –for 15 years in there somewhere–managing editor of the main web sites. Then I eased toward retirement by doing mostly research writing and managing our IT dept. This was all good. I was lucky to have been in a good place at the right time, and dabbled in technology and the intersection of communications, public service and the Internet. I was there at the beginning of the WWW and, if it doesn’t sound too immodest, saw what was coming before too many others. I managed to do some interesting things back in the day. I’m friends with a guy who was at the table when they invented the Internet. How ’bout that! Still, I’ve always maintained a private life of fiction and essay writing–mostly for my own sanity. There’s very little of the latter left, unfortunately.
- I’ve published two books of poetry. A novel is on the shelf but has possibilities. “Running Girl”, a detective/crime work of fiction. I’m about
60,000 65,000 60,000 055,000 words into it..
- I published a children’s book inspired by the children of a friend, “Mermaid Sisters: First Dive”. 🙂
- Married for 48 years to a courageous and sweet woman who left us after a final bout of cancer in April of 2018. We have two sons. One has a master’s in environmental philosophy at the U. of Montana and is a park ranger for the State of Washington and is getting married soon. The other works at Facebook, just moved to Albuquerque, and is as smart and gentle as they come. He travels the world and makes me laugh. They’re both amazing young men.
About the title…. I’m worried that you think I was thinking a bit much of myself. Not the case at all. I was a big fan of Earnest Hemingway’s work when I was old enough to understand some of it. I liked his writing philosophy, the brevity and economy of it. It seemed to help to remember what he’d stood for: write tight (what the best editors demanded) worked in newsrooms, too). When I was thinking of starting a blog, and it seemed more like a lark, ‘-play’ sounded like a little joke on myself, to keep me from taking it all too seriously.
All content in this site is published as a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerives license. Users may download these works, created by and owned by Doug Stanfield, and share them with others as long as they credit Hemmingplay.com, but may not change them in any way or use them commercially.