As I have mentioned before, a deeper understanding of reality and the ability to write is complemented with both loneliness and melancholy. As Ernest Hemingway famously said: “Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. … He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.” Aristotle addressed the melancholy of those individuals with a deeper understanding of reality, when he wrote: “Why is it that all those who have become above average either in philosophy, politics, poetry, or the arts seem to be melancholy, and some to the extent that they are even seized by the diseases of black bile?”
And when a writer sheds his or her loneliness and his or her work deteriorates, the writer will long for those days when he or she was lonely and melancholic and their work was of a high caliber and quality. As Sigmund Freud said: “One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.” Barack Obama has said that what he misses the most about his past is the ability to walk into a coffee shop and bookstore without being noticed by anyone.
Also, shedding one’s loneliness and allowing for one’s work to deteriorate coincides with bowing to “special interests” and dealing with women to a certain extent, at least within an American context. I mentioned Barack Obama, who was an American writer of a high caliber in his late twenties and early thirties before getting picked up by David Axelrod. Before getting picked up by David Axelrod, Barack Obama was an obscure writer who was not known by many people in his late twenties and early thirties, but his work was of a high caliber and quality. However, in order to come out of obscurity and shed the loneliness and melancholy that afflict writers of a high caliber and quality, the tradeoff for Obama was to bow to special interests and deal with the headaches of women to a large extent.
I had a brief taste of what it is like to come out of loneliness, melancholy, and obscurity, only to deal with the headache of women and special interests this past summer. Unlike Obama and others, I did not have the energy or the wherewithal to bow to special interests and to the headache of women just yet. Moreover, I do not know if I ever will have the energy or wherewithal to bow to special interests and the headache of women. Although loneliness, melancholy, and obscurity are things that certain individuals – including myself – complain about at times, absorbing the mind games and negative energy of a particular female journalist in London and selling your soul to Eliot Cohen may be too high of a price to pay in order to come out of loneliness, melancholy, and obscurity. But as an entrepreneur and writer, one should also be open to negotiating. I am open to negotiations, under the right circumstances and conditions.