A Haunting Mistake

Life never lets you get away with your mistakes.

I was once an up and coming writer, living in a city thought of as an artist's dream, but really, a plethora of expensive prewar buildings, stores with expensive merchandise inaccessible to the layman and a bell which rings very early on each day to signal the start of the movement of all the money in the world from one wealthy hand to another.

Nevertheless, I could afford it - I had written two books, both about educational policy, that had made me the stuff of dreams of liberal college Professors trying to push their views onto untrained minds. Don't get me wrong - my writing accurately described the ills of for-profit education as well as the ills of a public school system which does not do its job. However, I offered very little in the way of solutions and yet, became beloved because I could point out obvious problems eloquently.

That is not to say I am a bad writer. I am an excellent writer with a background in sports writing and technical writing. I also have a very active imagination and love writing short stories. If it were up to me, my short stories would have made me the mandatory read of every Creative Writing major rather than my books being the mandatory read of every Political Science major.

One day, in my grief, I sat down to pen a piece about how true creativity is never appreciated. I did not consider my books creative works; I considered them as a means to get by. This is how the piece went:

"When I opine about Plato's Republic or critique the chancellor of our public schools, people listen. I consider those opinions just that - opinions! Instead, I want to speak about the creatures living in my imagination, the demons that haunt me and produce stories that could rival just about any writer you can name. And yet, I am stuck in a world that my devoted audience has created for me, a political mouthpiece, appearing on news channels, ready to brandish an opinion that is going to further a cause I am not  invested in anymore. At this time, I want to explore my inner world; at this point, I want to introduce myself to the world, not my opinions on someone else's work or a system created by somebody else!"

Unfortunately, I had eaten a heavy lunch that day and pressed "Enter" on my keyboard while dozing off on top of it. The post appeared on my Twitter feed. And everybody began to wonder about the "creatures living in my imagination and the demons that haunt me". In a world full of conspiracy theories, many began to wonder if I was an alien or if I was possessed by a demon of their choice. I became the laughing stock of the literary world. Professors took me off their shelves.

I eventually had to return to my parents' home in a small town, where, they suggested exorcism as the cure to my problems.