I love the Alamo, the story of the Alamo, the massacre at the Alamo, all things Alamo. It was American tragedy at its best. Most American tragedies deal with slavery, genocide, or unrestrained greed. The Alamo was just a group of men, outnumbered, defending a fort against overwhelming odds. Please ignore the imperialism behind the story, just concentrate on the men, William Travis, Jim Bowie, Davy Crocket and a line in the dirt. You know the story, William Travis drew a line in the dirt and made it clear, “To cross this line is to fight with me to the death.” Those that wanted, could leave, but those with the courage had to cross the line though it meant certain death. But oh what a death it would be.

In America, we don’t like the idea of losing. We’re winners. When was the last time you saw an American mainstream movie where the hero loses? We don’t like it. But we love the Alamo because it was a few against many. We love the underdog.

I love the underdog.

Which is probably why I write books. Mario Acevedo says being a writer is most likely harder than being a navy seal because it takes years to become a writer for most of us. How long does it take to be a navy seal? Google it, baby, ‘cause that’s not my job today.

Writing a novel is like standing on the ramparts of the Alamo: my little book is just one book facing the hordes of books out there, one against many. Most likely I’ll die, but the line has been drawn in the dirt. It’s up to me to cross it and try. It’s a romantic idea. In reality, it scares the PB&J out of me.

I have a deep seated belief that I have to be the best, that if I’m not , I might as well not play. I have to be better than you, or I’m worth nothing. This is an insane idea and it fills me with suffering.

I like writing books. Other people have said they like reading them. Should I stop writing because I probably won’t be rich and famous? Should Davy Crockett have run off when he knew to stay was certain death?

Life is showing up, doing what you love, and struggling forward. Always. Fighting the good fight when all you want to do is cry and give up. I can do my crying in the grave. Now is the time to cross the line and fight.

And if I’m not better than you, well, I had a good time, and God bless ya.

One man fled from the Alamo. He failed to cross the line. His name was Moses (Louis) Rose. He died uneventfully. I won’t let the same be said of me.

So let us cross that line together, my friends. Let us make our stand in the words and sentences we write and let our paragraphs be our citadels, our books our fortresses, against despair and death.

http://library.flawlesslogic.com/alamo.htm