Some Election Day Musings

It's nice to believe that a hero is going to step in and save us all from our collective suffering, but the reality is that hero doesn't exist. It's a myth we've created to help ease our suffering as we all go through the events of our lives--a fantasy, a lullaby.

For some reason, the increase in suffering only seems to magnify that belief in a benevolent savior out their just watching over the collective and keeping us safe from, ostensibly, each other, and maybe the occasional natural disaster--although, many of what we call those today are actually also man-made or at least made worse by man, like Fukushima or the earthquakes caused by fracking and mining, but that is neither here nor there if someone is just going to come along and make it right at some point when it gets bad enough.

Aside from the damage we do to our planet in the name of convenience and progress, most of the time the reasons for the things that actually cause our sufferings are a result of decisions we've made in our individual lives and because of actions we've taken or not taken. If you knowingly do something wrong and do it anyway, and then suffer the consequences of that, it is one thing, that is on you; however, it is entirely another thing when you do something you have been led to believe is the right thing but then have to find out the hard way that it is decidedly not. For a subset of people, that seems to happen more often than it does for others, so maybe some things that we see are universal truths just aren't. How much of what we know and believe is actually just conditioned into us by other seriously flawed individuals, and maybe our own gut instincts are just wrong because of this?

Maybe some people just continue to follow the same path and make the same mistakes repeatedly, likely just repeating the same patterns of mistakes our parents made, is because what we call our instincts about what is right and good in the world are actually just some persons' opinions that have been bred into us through some generational societal Pavlovian experiment, and the keepers of the experiment today are operating in bad faith. These opinions and behaviors are being forced onto us so we just go along with what works best for the benefactors of this experiment, these fascist power-hungry individuals who have such little faith in other human beings that they feel the need to make everyone else battle each other and suffer so they can stay at the top. The Trickle-Down theory is nothing more than a pyramid scheme.

However, I don't think it has to be that way. We don't have to keep falling for the con.

Our relationships with the world and to each other don't have to be so fraught with violence and just this generational cloud of negativity that hangs over and brings us all down and pits us against each other. Life doesn't have to be a competition, or maybe we can just reframe the competition aspect to what it truly is, us collectively struggling against the limitations of the natural world, the effects of what we've done to it that are now irreversible, and the universe at large.

While it's important to keep the things from the past that work well, an inherent part of the American experiment is that the idea can be altered to fit what the moment demands a necessity, and this ambiguity could either be its biggest strength or its worst weakness, but if the changes are made to truly ensure that society is protected--even from itself--that's when it's working at its best. Being adaptable when new evidence presents itself is one of the fundamental principles of the enlightenment and also just science, in general. The constitution was never meant to be a be-all-end-all. The evidence of that? The Bill of Rights. A built-in way to amend it.

Maybe we just need to start by being more adaptable, in general, as individuals, more amenable to change when new evidence presents itself. There is nothing wrong with admitting that you've been wrong about something, and changing yourself to improve your situation. That's how we grow. 

Our biggest mistake as a society was thinking of ourselves as the best. And because we're the best, everything we do is the best That is an arrogant way of looking at the world. We stopped striving for actual greatness because we stopped to pat ourselves on the back for too long. We decided that we were the chosen ones, and fuck the rest of the world. We were the direct recipients of all the light and glory, but we didn't take into account that when the sun was setting here it was rising somewhere else.

It's highly unlikely that anyone is going to come along and save the day; in fact, this is usually when someone much worse takes control and takes society down an even darker path because these types of people are good at convincing enough others that they are the savior they've all been waiting on. But hey, maybe there is a certain point where the lessons of the past need to be repeated to save future generations. The problem with that is there might not be any future generations if this thing gets bad enough. The doomsday clock has never been this close to midnight.

Rather than nuclear war, nowadays, the biggest threat: scientists are saying that we are at the beginning of a mass extinction event. It even has a name, Anthropocene, and it's called that because it's largely what we Anthropos are doing to the environment that is causing it. It doesn't have to be that way but it certainly can go that way and it's looking more and more like it will. 

Maybe entropy is the fundamental law of the universe. Maybe it's too late. Maybe no matter what we do at this point, it won't matter. 

It certainly won't if we take up that mentality. It's a flawed way of thinking about it. Maybe I was wrong when I said that heroes don't exist. Maybe instead we collectively are the heroes of our own stories. If anyone can affect a lasting and impactful change, it's us. We should be saying that it won't matter unless we do something now. What that is, I have no idea, but I think one step in the right direction is to elect more responsible leaders, and by responsible, I mean a sense of responsibility to society and not just to themselves. That is what should matter over any party affiliation.

If only we could collectively agree on that.

A Dreamy, Breezy Post about Sunshine & Rainbows & Shit

Or, What I Do in My Basement is Wholesome so Fuck You

[Sorry, I don't Mean to Sound So Defensive, I Just have to Keep My Online Persona Consistent As to Not Draw Any Attention to the Fact that I Might be a Dynamic Human Being Capable of More than One Trance-like Emotional State]

There's not many better feelings than driving through the countryside on a sunny day, the brightness carefully suppressed from damaging my eyeballs by my Bob Dylan shades, stretches of trees and farmland flashing past on either side, the windows down, a cool almost moist breeze wrapping it's invisible scarves around me and through the cabin of my car, the sun-bleached asphalt unwinding ahead, with music blasting, me singing out at the top of my lungs--

That's one thing I need to do more, but I have nowhere really to go right now. Of course, I would also have to wait for a nice day. That might be a while, at the rate things are going. I mean, I could drive somewhere just to drive--just to leave the house. Get some fresh air.

There is something to be said about driving around on a gloomy day, too: the window cracked, the fresh drops filling my nostrils with their perfume, listening to the Allman Brothers Idlewild South, the slow slosh of the windshield wipers--back in my twenties I would have had a cigarette, the menthol and tobacco wafting with the rain scent creating a sort of intoxicating potpourri.

This weekend has been more like winter than early May, though, and the only thing fun about driving around in winter is driving at night when the snow is blowing, an X-Wing Pilot flying through hyperspace. "This is Red Leader..." As fun as that is, I am not in the mood.

That's Ohio for you, I suppose. Instead of going on a drive, I have barely left the basement. I have spent a long, seemingly endless amount of time down here, re-arranging my shit--getting my organ bench from the garage, sitting my trunk on it and using the combined structure as a table for my synth and my drum machine, and moving my guitars and drum set around to make it all work. This might actually be my favorite basement setup yet.

This space really works really well as a one-man recording operation (and maybe eventually for live-streaming) but it would only be conducive for a full band if it was like a three piece or four piece, max. Four piece might be stretching it, actually. It would definitely be loud and sweaty... Gross. No, I like the idea of doing a one-man band thing, and I like the idea of being a member of a band, but I wouldn't want that band to actually practice here after we gain more members than my brother and me.

We'll see. We really just even need to actually practice more than once or twice to really be considered a thing. I mean, what else have we got going on?

One thing as a musician that I strive to do, really as an artist, in general--because actually this is also kind of the essence of writing fiction--is take my audience to a specific time and place, and fusing these two disparate media together can help make it even more real, more present... And it has been a dream of mine to do for a long time.

I did kind of a proto-version of it with my novel, Escapes, creating a playlist on Spotify that covers music mentioned in or relating to the story. I am listening to that now, actually. It has a weird mixture of jazz, rock, punk, alternative, metal, and pop, as the story covers a lot of territory musically.

With my upcoming short story collection, Asshole Years, I would like to take that idea of combining music and reading to the next level. After I finish editing and proofreading it, the collection will go into production and I can set a firm release date. While that's taking place, I will start working on an accompanying soundtrack--think Pink Floyd but with a noise punk-alternative-new wave edge.

That's really why I got an analog synth. To add to the space rock-psychedelic ambient flavor of my sound. When I used to perform regularly, I would often get compared to Syd Barrett or Pink Floyd. I don't know if that's actually true, but that's what audience members (and totally different people) have told me after performances, on more than one occasion. Anyways, I plan to start composing the new, mostly instrumental songs for the collection soon, and I will include a download code or something with the book, and really lean into that.

And actually, to tie it all together with a neat little bow, driving around seemingly aimlessly is one theme that does carry through the collection, somewhat. I guess it's good that I'm in that frame of mind. Maybe I need to go on a road trip for the inspiration.

If the goddamn weather ever cooperates long enough.

Music That Kicks My Ass and Other Three, Four and Five-Letter Words

Today's blog post is brought to you by the schwa and 40 oz bottles of Miller High Life. I plan to spend the better part of today figuring out how to play the guitar solo in the Kingsman classic version of "Louie Louie" because to be quite frank, it's about goddamn time.

By the way. I also really love the original, the Richard Berry and the Pharaohs version, and the Toots and the Maytals version is also high up there. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts? Hell yes! That version slaps too, as the kids say. I wonder, did the Ramones ever cover it?

Unfortunately, it does not seem like The Ramones covered  "Louie Louie" (that I could find in a 30 second Google search) but, of course, if they did, it would probably kick ass!

Anyways, I am getting a bit off topic, or least on a different tangent about the same topic, and I do really want to talk about this guitar solo. As a self-proclaimed "Louie Louie" super fan and someone who's been playing guitar for roughly...25 years...Jesus...I feel a great amount of shame that I don't already know the entire Kingsmen version by heart. The rest of the song, of course, is a cake walk. I am determined this time around to get it, though. Give me a few years and I will get a bar band together that will play nothing but EVERY goddamn version of the song I can find.

This solo, when I have attempted to biff my way through it before, like what ends up happening most of the time that I attempt to learn someone else's song, I always end up jamming on my own thing. Call it a habit or call it a curse. I'll let you decide. I guess that's probably why my guitar playing has never gotten real complex. I have learned a bunch of catchy riffs but never the complete song unless it's just straight chords. I have also learned scales and chords and shit, but the best way to learn how to apply the theory is by learning to play songs...Naturally...And I have never really really done that on a serious level.

Giving up on learning it is not an option this time, though. And I am going back to other songs learn them in entirety, as well. I am hoping by the time this whole epidemic things is over, I will come out of it a better guitarist (and a better drummer too...but that is a whole different blog post).

It's taking a while to get to a point where I am ready to record, and that's okay, but I hope to start before the end of the year, and I think that timeline is totally reasonable at this point. I might tide myself over by getting out the old drum machine and throwing something fun together for old time's sake.

At least I don't need to work a whole lot on my bass playing to get into recording shape. That will more be a matter of coming up with the bass lines, and that I usually just improvise because that's what works well for me, I think.

Anyways, what it all comes down to is that I am going to use this time I am stuck inside to create something to listen to, hopefully. We'll see. I will certainly give it the old college try.

On that note, I have some jamming to accomplish. See all you crazy folks on the other side!

NOTE:

BOOKS page updated.

Dreams.

Taking into account all advice that I have received so far, and based, more importantly, on my own intuition, I think I have come to the best compromise to getting a publishable piece.  It involves taking a few key scenes from Side: B of Outside the Garage and strategically placing them in Side: A, to give it a frame narrative.  I guess, since, when I first started, in addition to The Great Gatsby and Catcher in the Rye, I was also quite heavily influenced by Kurt Vonnegut and Chuck Palahniuk, so, it makes sense, then, that it would turn out this way.

Last week, when I was bored, I experimented with the manuscript and made a third person, present tense version.

This gave me a basic to work from, since I was already working on it, and felt good about it, but felt like something was missing.  Coincidentally, around this same time, my friend gave me her feedback from reading a version, and it meshed up with other advice I have received, and that made me decide to take steps to get it to where it needs to be in order to be publishable--even if it means rewriting it.  So I read some YA Lit books and started taking notes, and did some writing activities to get my mind refreshed.  Then, I took everything so far into consideration and thought about where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, and I decided that, if a non-linear plot is what it takes to get it to that point, then so be it.

Then I went back to books I had been reading and studying over the course of this past semester, and it occurred how I already had a frame, and I could easily make it more cohesive from beginning to end.  So I take the moment where Evie/Edie is shot, which is a climatic moment about 2/3 of the way through the third person, present tense version, and made it the opening scene, thus giving myself a firm external piece of framework for the beginning, and then I sparsely interspersed into Side: A scenes of him coming back into cognizance, dreams that he was having during that time frame, and him having a mental breakdown, so that there is a sort of natural progression between the internal story and the external frame.

This all gives it a natural sort of progression from the beginning to the end, which was always there, but it was as evident without the external framework.  This also makes some of the more outlandish narrative stuff I have put in there make sense within the context of the story since it all makes sense as a part of his mental state.

Then there is a moment, about 3/4 of the way through, where he comes back into full cognizance, and the last bit of it is kind of like the coda.

That's why I made the design make it look like it is two halves of a rock opera, with liner notes and stuff in the beginning to complete the effect.  As I believe it has a sort of musical quality to it, I feel like it is fitting and natural, for me, to do something like that, since I was, of course, the one making rock operas through my twenties--I don't know that they were any good since I am not a very good singer--but I enjoyed making them, and so this is kind of a tribute to that, when I was also beginning to start writing fiction.

While I wouldn't say that I am successful (I am not that delusional), I have been doing it long enough that I either need to put the pieces together and really try and make it work, while I find a job to pay the bills, and continue reaching for my dreams, or just fully devoting myself to a career, and giving it all up.

I am not willing to do that, though.  It is a dream, but it is also a hobby, and that's what they are for, right?  Ways for us to pursue our childhood fantasies?  I can do both, and just do it.  The best material comes from life, and I have a lot of great ideas for future projects, that have come out of living.  If I have to work somewhere else while I am doing it, that is okay.  I keep telling myself that, anyways.

If there is one thing I have learned, as a writer, it's that you have to keep attempting to grow, experimenting and seeing what happens.  At least my writing will be honest.  That's all I can hope for anyways.  That is my dream.

Following Hope

Now that I truly have free time, no classwork, no papers, no lesson planning, no grading, if I truly want to be a writer, and make a living doing it--because, let's be honest, isn't that the goal--then I should probably take the advice that my friend, who works in the industry, gave me--especially since her opinion has been reinforced.  What's more significant is not that I have work to do to get it to a place where it is publishable, it is the fact that I do have something to work with, that is potentially publishable.  

I just need to overcome my stubbornness and get over myself and do what I need to do in order to get it to the place where it needs to be.  While it might take more of an overhaul than I have previously been willing to give it, if there are bigger possibilities on the other side of that then it is worth it to try. There is nothing definite, and it might not, in the end, work, but it has more a possibility of leading towards success than any other avenue that I can pursue right now as a writer.

At least I am nearly finished with grad school, where I will have the actual time to pursue it--even if I have to get a full time job.  I would rather work 40 hours a week some place and be able to come home and do whatever I want with my time than continue being a student where I have no free time.  I have my own studying to do, my own work to do, my own goals to pursue.  I find that it is easier working full time being a part time writer than going to school full time and being a part time writer.

That means I have to find a job.  That is the tricky part, actually.  On one hand, I will have a master's degree, on the other, I am in Ohio.  It could be worse, I suppose.  Ten years ago, I worked, and struggled, and had no degree, and no hope for the future, and now, my life is completely different.  That's something at least.  While I might not be as successful as I would like to be right now, the fact that I have progressed gives me hope.

One difference between successful people and unsuccessful people, besides luck, and connections, is persistence.  If I have an avenue towards success, even though it will take hard work, it is the way I must go.  I can either be stubborn and accept obscurity or I can follow that little glimmer of hope and see where it takes me.  Time to stop being stubborn and self-righteous.

Catching the White Whale

Yesterday my wife and I bought tattoos for each other for our birthdays.  Mine was a few months ago, but we had to move and all that at the time so we didn't have any money.  The tattoo artist, Cynnamon at Kustom Culture in Talmadge, drew her rendition of Moby Dick for me, and, I must say, she did an amazing job!  I will definitely go back to her for future projects.  :-)

Moby Dick has significance for me on a few levels: first, I am a hug fan of Melville and have read and studied most of his books; I am also writing about Israel Potter: His Fifty Years of Solitude for my thesis.  Second, and probably more significantly, I have finally harpooned my white whale: I have finished this first novel, Out in the Garage, and I promised myself that if I finished it I would get a tattoo as a memento of the occasion.  I released the book for sale last week.

Anyways, my arm is still a little achy, and it's red still from the trauma of the tattooing process, but I am glad that I did it.  While I am only a DIY operation, it does mean a lot to me, and I hope that this tattoo helps me mentally switch gears and continue plowing ahead.  Before I know it, this will all be over, and I don't want to have any regrets.  As the Flea sings in the Red Hot Chili Peppers song, "Deep Kick", "But the Butthole Surfers said, 'it's better to regret something you did do, than something you didn't do.'"  I agree with both him and Gibby Haynes.  It is far better.

Rambling with Volunteers on the Headphones

We can be together 

Ah you and me  

We should be together 

We are outlaws in the eyes of America 

--Jefferson Airplane*

I think, what I am finding is, you have to find a place where you are happy with the content, and the style, and you just have to make sure it is nice and proofread.  It's important to understand the weaknesses and limitations of it, and focus on the strengths of it, and make the strengths genuinely outweigh the weaknesses.  And I am trying to put out a professional quality product.

I feel like I am capable of doing all of these things, and now I am to the point of ordering a proof and really going through and proofreading.  I republished my short story collection after having done so, and I feel like I have caught the majority of my mistakes.  There are still some, but they aren't as noticeable.  I think.

There is always a certain amount of insecurity, but I feel like if I focus on the quality and make both an artistic statement and also putting out something that has the guise of legitimacy, I will be success eventually.  The next thing I will have to learn how to do, as I start writing my next manuscript (and I have started.  I have about 2,000 so far, after one sitting).

I have learned a lot so far, and for that I am grateful.  I can't wait to see what the next year holds as I finish up grad school and get a job (hopefully.  I am already looking).  On top of all this I have to make sure I kick ass at school for like four more classes and my thesis.  Then I will be home free, and with a killer GPA.  I feel like I earned my grades, too.  I am thinking part of my marketing strategy will also hinge on me getting some of these papers published.  That will also take a lot of work, but if I am successful, that will only lend more credibility to myself as a writer of literature.  I am thinking I have some papers by now that if I continue to work on them and get advice on them from my professors, I will be able to get something published.  I am also going to do some conferences at the school so I can get some more experience doing that.

Maybe after I work for a few years, I can go back to school after I get my shit paid off and some credit built.  Maybe I will go back in my forties.  If I did, it would depend on my level of success as a part-time writer as I work a full time job.  If I can make it worthwhile, then I might have a justifiable enough reason to keep going, eventually.  For now, I just have to make money.  I don't want to be a selfish prick or anything, I just want to break free from my debt and start over, finally, with two degrees under my belt, and future prospects.  

Indeed, as I sit here, thinking about my life right now, and my career, it makes me feel like I have better things than I would have just by accepting things that way they were and pushing forward without a second thought.  I could easily be somewhere else, doing something else, just working hard and not feeling worthwhile.   Just feeling all interpellated and numb.  While I might eventually get there anyway --- at least I prolonged it to my thirties.  It was bound to happen eventually.  Still, some of the most significant writers of the last century worked other jobs or had other people to support them.  They weren't fucking making money doing it, either.

Maybe we are just cogs on a mechanism no one can truly understand, the only possibility being placed on the hopes of eternity past material existence --- of which proof I have seen no evidence of and can never be sure about.

Maybe I am just fooling myself, and we are all just fooling ourselves?  Aren't we all just as strong and smart and capable as we think we are, and if we admit to weakness we become it?  That is true if language is how we define our finite universe.  

So I guess that also means life is how we define it?  I think that is something I can take away from this rambling.

Note

*"We Can Be Together" lyrics courtesy of lyricsfreak.com.

I also am going to break my rusty cage and run.

In spite of all the work I have had to do lately, I have managed to sneak in working on those last few pages of my book.  I have about... 15-20 pages left to go through.  Then it's proofreading like crazy time.

Another aspect I have been working on as a way to promote this project coming out is a Spotify Playlist of songs that inspired me as I was writing this thing.  The only thing it doesn't have is the Beatles, which aren't on Spotify.  There are many songs that I have referenced in some way in the book, and this is a chance for people to hear them and also the many others that remind me of this time period.

I am also looking forward to finishing up the cover design.  It is a work in progress.  This is my working cover, that will act as a stand in until we finish the real one.  Luckily, I know an artist or two.

I feel really good about it, and I am really looking forward to holding the final version in my hand.  Nothing beats getting a proof and knowing that you have finally gotten it all together.  I have experienced this joy with my short story collection, but this one will be even more rewarding because I have put about four more years of effort into it, for a total of seven years spent on it.  It's a long time to be working on one project, trust me.  You start to get batty after a while.

I am so close I can taste the freedom.  I can feel it on my skin and on my lips like I am standing naked in the rain forest.  "Me Tarzan, you Jane." [I look at the time, and realize that I will be leaving soon].

As I think about the approaching night, "Up All Night" comes on and it sends me back and forward at the same time.  Good times had, good times coming.

Time to go.

Introspection

I think I have it.  I think I know what I am going to write.  I get that first kiss feeling and put my fingers to the keyboard, although sometimes I prefer pen to paper.  It matters in the moment.  It's that impulse.  That naked outside by the poolside on a sunny day feeling.  Smoking a cigarette without regret of the consequences.  There are always consequences, aren't there?  I am not sure anymore.

I put my pen-tip to my tongue in my mind in my position of thinking while I type at the keyboard at my fingertips.  Jimi Hendrix and Hunter S. Thompson.  I am trapped in a different time, in another place, in my mind.  Was I really born now?  In the future that Science Fiction authors used to envision?  Haven't we at some level made it to that point?  There are resonances of dystopia all around us.  "Do you want a dystopia, sir?  Erase dystopia from the dictionary."

As the semester draws to a close, I sit here, oddly relaxed, entering in and out of oblivion.  I am watching a documentary on Hunter S. Thompson, and it is both inspiring and disturbing.  That's how Dr. Gonzo would have wanted it.  That was how Raoul Duke wanted it.

I don't want my life to be like that.  Aside from recognition, what did it get him?  I look up to him as a writer, but I can't accept that being creative and expressive necessarily leads one down that road.  Same thing with Kurt Cobain, someone should have told him (and probably did), "Buck up man, you're a rock star now."  I am sure that it's fucked up beyond what I can possibly imagine, but seriously, if you can just chill out and ride the wave down slowly, you will enter into a new sort of cognizance, which is only possible through time.  Through relaxing.  Through not letting the things get to you. You move on.

You grow up, you learn to deal with life in a different, invigorating way.  I can't imagine the type of things they went through.  Even though I feel close to them as a fan, I only know them through the things they wrote. The stuff written about them.  While some might argue that is the best way one can truly know anybody, as through language is how we define our world, I am not so sure that is even that accurate.

There has to be another middle ground other than suburbia.  Something not so soul-sucking.  I don't want to just accept my materialistic programming and try to make money as my take on religion.

That's why I write.  Not because I hope to be a bestseller, because it is what renews me, over and over again.  I sit down at the keyboard, close my eyes, take a deep breath, and I am reborn unto the pages.  That for me is enough.  Enough to keep going.  To keep hashing it out, to keep making the effort to keep going, to keep living and breathing and learning and making new connections with people.  It is easy to be pulled into the dark void that seems to be opening up below us, but, like Wile E. Coyote, as long as you don't look down, and keep looking ahead at your goal, you are not going to fall.  Whatever you do, don't hesitate, don't stop, keeping going, keep looking ahead, and breathe.

I need this, oh baby, I need this...

It's that time of the semester -- weeks 12 through the end -- that I turn into a zombie whose singular goal is to strip the flesh from every book, article, and wayward student to feed my unquenchable thirst for words...  Wooordss...  Gurrr...

In a flash, it's a doozy, because I'm boozy, but eh, it's after nine o'clock...  For the record, I am completely sober --- unless you count the latte I made for myself earlier.  If I didn't have a meeting with my professor about a paper later, then I might slip some whiskey into the next one.  Maybe that will be something I will do after class...

James JOYCE!  James JOYCE!  Let the world rejoice!  It's James JOYCE!

Four more weeks!  Four more weeks!  Grading sucks, let's get on our feet...  And grooooovve baby, grooove baby, groove baby grooove!

I wouldn't stop the world and melt with you, I'd melt with you and we'd turn into mecha-godzilla and stop the world.  BWaahahahahahahahahaha!

Andy Kaufman is, in fact, still alive and living in my basement.

go-time

Right now, my focus is on making the language and the descriptions pop in Out in the Garage.  The next step will be to go through it very carefully and solely focus on typos.  My problem right now is that I am having an increasingly hard time focusing.  I guess I just need to blow off the steam and get it out of my system, though, so I can really buckle down and get accomplished what I need to get accomplished.

I do want to order a proof soon, which is the beginning of the second step.  That way I can also double-check all of my formatting.  I have also been hard at work in making the book's description and my bio sound more professional -- well, better written, anyways.

My goal is to make sure it is as entertaining-yet-thought-provoking as possible.  The story I am happy with, and I am not doing any major rewriting -- no craft stuff.  I do want to make sure every word, punctuation mark, and blank space, not function properly but also look how each one will look best.   It's important for me to take pride in my work and make sure it is of the highest quality possible, which means there won't be an exact, final version until it is actually published and I can't take it back.  I am not looking forward to the online formatting, which is another reason why I am going to focus on the print format and make sure everything is right before I even worry about anything else.

I do want to be done with it long before October 18 (and am confident I will be, since I am on a very challenging time frame right now with school, and what-not).

I do think that because it has take so long for me to put it out, I do have to take extra care to make sure I am satisfied with it, which is no easy task.  I do feel like setting a concrete deadline makes me focus on it and do it right, since I no longer am able to procrastinate.

It's go-time, right now, at this very moment.

A Post, Post

Sometimes, especially lately, I feel like I have gone through my book so many times, I just have to let it be "as it."

However, in spite of this, I still feel compelled to proofread it one more time before I print a proof and then I will proofread it, and proofread it again (and all right in a row) and this will be my final effort before I publish in October.

My goals are to improve the language and eliminate the typos.  I want every word to be what I intended, whether it makes sense or not.  It's a lot easier to justify something that I planned than to explain a typo -- which seems like it should be a whole lot easier of a problem to fix.  HA!

The next novel I am in the process of brainstorming and fully planning out.  I expect to be started writing officially soon.

This, of course, is all in addition to my thesis, which I really have to get started on researching.  I just don't want my summer to be over yet.  I have to give myself the right amount of time, so I don't go crAZY!!!!

Then again, that was probably too late a long time ago.  Oh well.  What the fuck ever.

NOTE:

Updated the book description for Tales from the Fringes.  I think this one is better.  We'll see if it helps.  Now I need to start really looking into getting reviewed by someone at least semi-legitimate.  Looking into getting onto some forums where I can subversively self-promote and advertise without really doing so.  Will continue posting to Facebook and Twitter.  I am trying to post more writing than advertising because that certainly gets annoying quickly.  The best advertising/self-promotion is the kind where it doesn't come across that way.  Really just trying to get this book on people's radars.

NOTE:

I'm working on some ideas for some posts.  Unfortunately, I don't have time to write any extended posts right now, but stay tuned, and, in the next day or two, I will definitely get to it.  I have some ideas that are stewing in my brain and will shortly be ready to serve.

Working on marketing, branding, and all that, which are all a part of self-publishing, and really, publishing, in general.  Not that I am trying to be rich or anything, but, I definitely want to build an audience, and I am working on some ideas on where I can do some recruiting.

Basically, I need to define who my audience is and what my appeal to them is and get my writing to them.  I have figured this out, so the next step is in doing some researching, developing my strategy, and getting it going.

Writer's Block

It's right on the edge, toes kicking dust and stones plunging over, falling, spiraling, diving down into oblivion, falling through to the otherside to these words.  The idea, it's not ready to take the leap.  I can feel it's presence there, the trembling, making my heart beat a little faster, my skin tingle, the rapture working it's way from the center of my cells and bursting out like the first rays of sunlight.

But the idea, it is non-committal.  It doesn't know the effect that it has on the rest of me as I sit here, trembling and glowing.  I can't force it, if I try it will rip apart, exploding into a million pieces and splattering all over the inside of my mind.

I try to nudge it, fill it with confidence, but it won't make the leap.  It won't come.  It keeps dancing around the rim.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, sending a wave of calmness through my system.  The idea dances to a dirge.  No matter how hard I try, I can't convince it of providence; immortality.  The transformation of it's soul from fleeting electrical impulses to ones and zeros.

But I can't force it.  If it won't make the leap, then it will inevitably be forgotten, idea Hell.

I plug in my headphones and put on There Satanic Majesty's Request and know that as much as I want to be in control of my thoughts, they have free will.

Living in the Decline

I agree 100% with this song.  Every time I hear it, blast it in my car, on repeat, sometimes for weeks on end, it makes me glad that I am not the only person who notices these things.

As other millennials my age will attest, we were raised to reach for the heights, to push harder, to strive farther, to be idealistic and do better for our society and our species and our planet.  But it's really fucking difficult when the generations who currently maintain power continue to fuck everything up, and will continue to fuck everything up to the point where there is no possible hope in fixing anything.

Thanks for leaving us a giant pile of shit.

Assholes.

I can only hope that I can teach the coming generations, and indeed those other folks in my own who aren't as fortunate as I have been, to think critically, question everything, and write what they think and feel in an effective manner, with evidence to support their arguments.

It's time that we empower each other, stand up against the violence, the hate, the unwillingness to cooperate and compromise and make our society and the world a safer, better place.  It's time to stop being complacent.  It's time to stop buying into the constant barrage of propaganda and bullshit and to stand up, like Howard Beale in Network, and shout: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!"

It is our civic responsibility to make things better, and not worse, and right now the people who are in power are failing miserably.

Too often people resort to violence in some misguided attempt to make this point, but in reality that only makes things worse, gives the misguided fools more power, because they are empowered through fear and ignorance.

It's time to stand up, thinking outside the box but yet with two feet firmly planted inside it, and let these charlatans know that they we aren't going to accept their greed and apathy any longer.

Updated Information on Tales from the Fringes

All information is tentative; however, less tentative than before.  Probably won't change too much.  I have submitted to Create Space Again.  When they approve it, I will print another proof, and go through it one more time.  My goal is to not have to change anything but typos.  Hopefully there aren't too many.  I will announce an exact release date soon (should definitely be by May 1).

Price: $7.99 paperback; $4.99 e-book

6" x 9"

15 stories/154 pages

ISBN-13: 978-1482787474

ISBN-10: 1482787474

BISAC  Category: Fiction/Short Story

Description:

Whether it's working at a McDonald's and playing in a band in "Greasy", mugging people to pay a violent drug dealer in "Survival", or accidentally starting the Zombie Apocalypse in "The Bananamen Prophecy", Tales from the Fringes finds people struggling through a variety of situations, with mixed results.  Mainly set in the Midwest, these stories capture the essence of what it's like to live on the fringes, where money is hard to come by, sex is often an obsession or a compulsion, and people are more often than not completely invisible to the outside world, and to each other.