Ralph Sellers

The new novel is coming along nicely. I hope to have it published sometime next month. That would be August 2020. I just finished designing the book cover. I chose a previous painting of mine due to the main character in my story having a significant interaction with a raven. As these highly intelligent birds are known for possessing mystical attributes in many Native American cultures, I thought it would be appropriate as a raven guides the quiet man to a power that will forever change his life… and potentially the world.

That was me in 1954. My mom was trying to get me to look at the camera. I guess not much changed over the years. It’s still not unusual for me to be distracted by a bird, bug, leaf, or my own thoughts, oblivious to what someone is saying or doing. When we were young and still full of wonder at the world, could we have imagined where our path would take us. I certainly didn’t. It is interesting how when we looked at the future from the eyes of our youth how distant it seemed. Now, looking back the other direction, it appears so brief.

Despite all the negative things associated with Appalachia, I feel thankful every day I was born there. Even now, I still cling to the innocence of those days. Was life perfect? Of course not. However, I learned some of life’s most valuable lessons, something that seems woefully absent in our current times. I learned how unstable life can be, to not take people and things for granted,how integrity, merit, and kindness may not make you rich and successful, but they are qualities to live by. Like all of us, I’ve had my failures, but strive to learn from them and be a better person.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating for everyone to grow up in poverty as a foundation to making better people, but for me, I think it helped. One thing is certain, no matter the financial status, the race, culture, religion, title, or education, there will always be people from all walks of life who are a threat to others. We can all push for some Utopian society, pass an endless amount of legislation, be the most politically correct nation on Earth, but will never change the one thing at the core of most of our issues… human nature. No matter how small it might be, it seems you give anyone power over others, they will far too often use it to benefit themselves rather than those around them. I am more convinced than ever, we are born who we are.

Step down from the soapbox.

Appalachia will always be part of who I am, just like where you grew up will always be part of you. I’m not saying it was any better or worse than anywhere else, but somehow it sure seemed that way.

It’s very likely most people think of Kentucky or West Virginia when they picture coal mining. Long before the opioid crisis ravaged the already impoverished residents of Appalachia, these giant machines ravaged the land in South-Eastern Ohio. They were the largest earthmovers ever built on the entire planet. There was the Gem of Egypt, the Silver Spade, and the Big Muskie. They were all within a few miles of where I grew up. When I was just a boy, some friends and I would hike the rolling hills to get as close as we could to watch these massive beasts devour the landscape. We would stare in awe as its bucket chewed away the topsoil to uncover the layers of coal beneath.

Growing up in Appalachia certainly left many unique memories. When I talk about it with my children, I often get the impression they think I grew up in the nineteenth century. Not having an indoor toilet or running water may have been responsible for that belief. Yes, the iconic images of poverty in Appalachia were real, my siblings and I experiencing them first hand. My father was in the navy during World War Two, fighting the Japanese in the South Pacific. Sadly, he returned home broken from the experience. They called it shell shock in those days. Now it is known as PTSD. He was no longer able to function in society, leaving my mother to be the bread winner, working in a glass factory painting precious metals on fancy stemware.

Most of the houses we lived in as children were owned by Hanna Coal Company. They had purchased vast areas of land, including former productive farms. The homes dotting the countryside had no value to them, so they would rent them for a token amount. It gave us an inexpensive place to live until it was time to uncover the coal buried there. I doubt my parents ever paid more than ten or fifteen dollars a month for rent. It seemed like we moved about every two years or so, the process repeating until I was in high school, when we finally moved into a house with indoor plumbing. It was owned by, and on the same property, as the factory where my mom worked, The Lotus Glass Company.

I guess we’ve all learned a lot about the word ‘solitary’ in this age of Covid-19 and social distancing. I thought this watercolor painting I did a few years ago was an appropriate piece for this topic.

The raven is most often seen as a lonely sentinel haunting the desolate canyons and rugged mountains here in Arizona. Native Americans attributed mystical qualities to this highly intelligent bird. This particular encounter took place on Montana Mountain as I explored the wilderness in search of a perfect photograph. Returning home, I reviewed the days photos and this one called out to me, inspiring me to paint it.

I think it’s interesting how many of us are drawn to places where we can find solitude from civilization, but when we find ourselves forced into a pseudo-solitude by the pandemic, we don’t find it nearly as enticing. Somehow, it feels more like solitary confinement. I don’t suppose the difference requires a lot of analysis. Being confined by the walls of human construct hardly compare to being surrounded by the beauty of nature, and, of course, choosing solitude is far more appealing than it being forced on you.

Despite the negative impact of the lock down, I hope it has also taught us a lesson, leaving us a little more cautious in regards to taking so many things in our lives for granted. Like Joni Mitchell said in her famous song, Big Yellow Taxi, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.”

Everyone has a story and most of us revel in telling them to our friends, families, and co-workers. Relating them orally seems completely natural, letting them flow from our mouths as easy as breathing. Why is it so much more daunting to apply it paper? Oops. I’m dating myself again. Who uses paper anymore? Well, other than during a trip to the bathroom.

Anyhow, like stepping in front of a camera , staring at a blank canvas, or hovering your fingers over that keyboard, the process of creating a permanent tangible record of what lurks in our minds far too often leaves us frustrated. My venture into this world of writing started a mere five years ago. Being socially anxious and an introvert all my life led me to trying to break out of that shell by various endeavors over the years. I can’t say any of them ever worked as I sit here alone typing this. But, on a positive note, the pandemic lock down hasn’t affected me at all. It was already my normal routine.

As I was saying, one of those efforts to become more social led me to the Meetup.com website. If you are not familiar with it, it is about like-minded people getting together to do like-minded things. Maybe you like to sew quilts, go canoeing, hike, star gaze, or practice Tai Chi. There’s likely a group nearby that does all these things. You sign up, join the group, and whammo, you get to hang out with people that share your interests. Pretty easy, huh?

I did just that. I joined a group called Coffee Talk, even though I don’t drink coffee. Sounds silly, I know. What interested me was its premise of discussion on a wide variety of topics and its free-form nature, and, of course, it got me out of the house. I participated for several months with mixed feelings, eventually getting the idea to start my own group. Sapiophiles of the East Valley was born from that original group. Its goal was to have people who were attracted to intelligent conversation come and share their thoughts. Unlike Coffee Talk, I decided to have a set topic each week. I did, however, keep the free-form nature as part of the new group. I’ve never been all that keen on telling others what to do or say. I had originally asked for input from members on the subject of topics, which unfortunately rarely came to fruition. Needless to say, the choosing of topics was relegated to me, which I accepted as it was my group.

The years went by and I met a lot of interesting people, some incredibly smart… and some not so much. Overall, it was by far a pleasant and enlightening experience. Okay, get to the point. In the course of time, I had been complimented on my writing of the subject matter for the weekly meeting several times, which in turn created the idea to pursue it as a career. Even though I have no formal education in either art or writing, in fact, I didn’t even finish high school, I never let that lack of a piece of paper discourage me from doing anything. Like Mark Twain said, “I never let schooling get in the way of my education.”

Adventures in writing

I will be seventy years old next year. Every time I think about it, I’m reminded of a quote I read somewhere… “I thought growing old would take longer.”

After spending most of my creative energy pursuing a career in art without success, I decided to switch gears and try writing. I shouldn’t say there have been no accomplishments with my art. In 2018, the pinnacle was winning artist of the year in Gilbert, Arizona. Here is the watercolor getting me the award.

Despite having won many ribbons over the years, my lack of marketing skills has left me unable to turn my passion into a financially viable enterprise.

For the last two years, my art has taken a back seat to my writing. I hope to find marketing my books easier than art, but perhaps there is little difference. Having just published my second novel, with my third well under way, I hope this blog will inspire others who struggle to achieve the same goal. I like to think I learn something every day, and I will freely share any of my experiences and knowledge here. Of course, I hope to hear from anyone out there with a question or a comment.

• 

• 

Survive was my first novel, followed up by A Dose of Reality three months later.

Both books are available through Amazon and other fine book sellers.