Happy Birthday! By Jamie Kirkpatrick

Today is my ninth birthday. OK; so I’m not counting in human years, not even dog years. No; today marks the beginning of my ninth year as a columnist in this space—that’s 417 consecutive weeks of Musings, thank you very much. I’m not bragging, you understand, just multiplying. Since that first Tuesday back in February of 2016, my wife and I have added four more grandkids to the roster—now, that is bragging even though I had nothing to do with it. It’s also a good reminder that some things are more important than deadlines, but don’t tell a writer that.

I call these Musings my happy discipline. The very first one was called “Geese Not Groundhogs” or something close to that. It came to me when I heard what sounded like a traffic jam in the sky. I looked up and saw an enormous V of geese heading north. It occurred to me that those northbound geese were much better prognosticators of spring’s annual arrival than some groggy groundhog up in Punxsutawney, PA who never knew whether to get up or go back to sleep. So I wrote a story, sent it off to the Spy’s worthy Publisher who, to my surprise and delight, ran it as the lead article in this very space the following Tuesday. That was the very first Museday and I’ve been coming back ever since.

A writer’s life is not easy; just ask my wife. On many a morning when it’s still dark, she mumbles, “Where are you going?” as I rise as quietly as I can and head downstairs to my designated writing space in the living room. “I have an idea,” I tell her as she rolls over and goes back to sleep. On a few occasions, if I’m lucky, I’m able to get back into bed before she even realizes I was gone. I like that.

Now, in full transparency and shameless self-promotion, I confess this is not my only writing gig. In these past nine years, I’ve produced two compilations of essays, two novels (both historical fiction), a couple of short stories, a novella, and a children’s book (also a song) with lovely illustrations by a talented local artist and friend. And while I’m hesitant to say this publicly, I’m well along in my third novel, the culmination of a trilogy centering on the fictitious life of Declan Shaw, an Irish journalist who has been witness to many of the important events of the last century. (Here, my wife, who is also my Vice President of Marketing, insists that I insert a line stating that all these offerings are available on Amazon, as well as in many fine local bookstores. Well, not the novella; I’m still trying to decide what to do with that.)

Writers know a critical truth: writers need readers. One of my favorite parts of producing these weekly Musings is when I get to read comments from readers. They are almost always generous—almost always—and I am very grateful when people take the time to offer an opinion, gently point out an error, or simply say “thank you.”  I hope you realize it is I who should be thanking you for being a good listener and faithful reader. You are the fuel that runs this old jalopy…such as it is.

And while I’m at it, I want to express my thanks to other links in the chain: publishers and editors; proofreaders and book designers; independent booksellers and cheerleaders. You know who you are. And if anyone should happen to know a good agent who is in search of new (old) talent, please let me know.

I’ll be right back,

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives in Chestertown. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores.