Motivation

A chorus of birds heralded the sun as it broke through the clouds, which dissipated before his eyes. He took in another deep breath and smiled, then started on his way, jumping over the puddles that had taken over the tree-lined path. He didn't know where he was going, but at the moment, he wasn't going to worry about it.—"The Wanderer," from my chapbook, The Ever-Present Moment

It's important, as a writer, to write what you have to write, and then put it out there and hope for the best, sharing being second only to actually sitting down and producing it out of your mind womb.

These blog posts, I guess, are a sort of instant gratification, in that regard. It's a smaller albeit no less significant wave.

As I work on this post, I am also preparing some fiction to send out. It is a never-ending quest, or really, seemingly without end, for the time being. When I finally find homes for this set of stories, I will hopefully have finished the four I am currently writing, and start the whole process over again.

It gets easier with every passing year. I hone my skills more, continue the pursuit of the craft, just letting the words pour out of me.

As I find new homes for my writing, I meet new communities and find my place among them, sharing my stories and branching out, rushing headlong into the future.

The More Things Change, the More they Stay the Same...For A Little While Longer

I will be starting my Saturday blog posts this coming week. If you read my last post, you know that I intended to start it this weekend, but, well, it just didn't work out that way. Long story short, I need a little more time to plan things out and make sure I am getting it right.

Technically, though, as far as my goal of posting at least once a week, I am killing it right now.

I do need to be better about following through with posting on a regular schedule, though, and Saturdays seem like a good day to do it, as long as I publish early enough. Past three or four o'clock, and people tend to be more focused on getting ready for the evening. My goal, then, will be to post by early afternoon on Saturdays.

As I said before, the first one will be my perspective on whether or not writers should incorporate contemporary pop culture into their fiction, or whether that makes it less timeless.

Although, actually, my argument is more about whether or not that is even a relevant argument anymore, with technology extending our cultural memory beyond what it was prior to the internet.

Check back this coming Saturday, and you will get to read all about it.

Booking Marketing...Or Lack Thereof

Shortly after Scott Weiland died, I started writing a blog post about Stone Temple Pilots being my first concert, but the point seems moot now, so it will probably never see the light of day.

Today I am writing in honor of nothing but own shameless self promotion, because that is the name of the game.

You have to really whore yourself out to get any hype.

Luckily, I am not above that. I like skiing in those waters; although, I confess, I try not to let myself get submerged for very long. Otherwise, I might black out and wake up forty years from now, and find myself some sad old guy in a tux hitting on college girls I never had a change with when I was that age, either.

No, I can't let that happen.

Instead, I will make up for my lack of ability by calling it art and pretending it's sacred. My hope is that some day I will start to believe my own bullshit and get trapping in my own fantasy-delusion once and for all.

Oh Hell, who am I kidding? I have been submerged in those brown waters my whole life. Maybe that actually does make it art. If I am delusional, at least I am honest.

Some Random Weirdness on the Internet

*As it seems like some people might have already noticed, it's probably high time that I tell you that last night I modified the description of Escapes again. However, I think I have firmly established that I am a revisionist, and I have made peace with that...

Which totally makes sense why I have worked towards completely changing my process.

More and more, in fact, I try to focus on doing a really good job and get my thoughts out, just trying to make it all connect and seem deliberate, and doing it all fewer and fewer times each time. I try focusing on different aspects of the piece as go along along until I reach a point with the project where I am satisfied with everything. Then I try to read the whole thing through without making any changes. If I can do that, then I am free to click that button and make it visible to the world.

Believe it or not, this actually cuts down on the length of time it takes me to write and publish something. I rarely ever have to go back and make changes... Rarely ever.

I have had some pretty amazing ideas lately, if I do say so myself. At least I think they are amazing, and that's really all that fucking matters (to me) at this point. Really, if you can't write for your own happiness then whose happiness should you write for?

I think this is the sort of mindset that I stumbled into during writing the first one. Ultimately, if I don't first focus on pleasing myself (pun partially intended) with what is written, then I try to take too much advice, and, believe  me, there is such a thing.

At some point, you need to forsake the advice that doesn't fit and just go for it. Some advice just won't make the cut, and the people reading the final product will just have to deal with it.

Hopefully, your choices won't be an issue, but, if some or more of them are, you just take note of how you fucked up and make sure that you don't make those mistakes again.

Unless it's fixable; then, of course, you totally go for it.

We Are Our Own Barbarian Hoards

One of my biggest pet peeves about teaching is that I feel like the students think they know more than I do about the importance of being able to write and communicate ideas in a civil way.  How can I teach my students the importance of communicating as in a dialogue when it doesn't seem like anyone in the world is actually doing this?  It's no wonder than so many of my students are unreachable.  And I am not alone in this.  So many of my colleagues experience the same thing and feel the same way.

Glancing through forums, comments on articles, Youtube, etc, it seems like everyone is shouting out their opinions and no one is listening to each other.  Turn on the TV news and you get the same thing.  Why the Hell would you need to learn how to write an essay when people only pick what they want out of it, twist it, and start shouting how they feel about it instead of trying to create a dialogue?  It's no wonder our society, or even our civilization, is falling apart.  I look around, watch the news, look online, and it seems, more and more, like we are headed to a new dark age.  There is no such thing as common sense.  Or even sense.  Everyone is shouting and no one is listening.  One is ineffective without the other.

While I am probably overgeneralizing, as I am sure there are more people like me who are quietly watching everything unfold and are doing what little they can to make a difference--even though it is mostly not making a difference, or at least not any sort of noticeable difference fast enough to actually change anything--the fact is, society only works if there is some sort of social contract holding everyone is check, making sure that most people are following what they agree they should be doing, and that contract has been void for quite some time.  The only way to renew any sort of social contract is by having a dialogue, as a society, where all the disparate parts work together to communicate ideas, resolve differences, or at least agree to disagree, and figure out how to peaceably move forward in a way that mutually benefits everyone.  

But, looking around, seeing what I see, hearing what I hear, I don't feel like this is realistically possible as things are right now.  The only thing I see happening is chaos, like a cancer, stealing its way into every facet of society, sooner or later overtaking everyone and everything.  This is where we are headed.  Unlike the Roman Empire, we are not going to be invaded by barbarian hoards, we are our own barbarian hoards, and sooner or later, we are going to bring down our own Empire.

Another

Okay, so I guess if you are a fan of my fiction, then this is your lucky night.  Here is another from that same time period.  I think I had intended to tell the whole story, but, I could never really get past this point, and realized that maybe this was enough of a story.  I think this qualifies as micro-fiction?  I dunno.

The Big City

Her cerulean eyes glowed like that one perfect May day during the blossoming of our romance, when we lay together in the soft green grass, surrounded by our favorite flower – a weed to some – the dandelion, and just enjoyed the moment of timeless bliss in comfortable silence.

“Chicago,” her soft pink lips that tasted of berry-flavored lip gloss said, springing my mind back to reality.  “Let's move to Chicago.”

We sat together at our kitchen table – our forks lifting macaroni and cheese goodness to our mouths, chewing and swallowing, to satisfy our hungers built from a day's work at our low-paying jobs – and tried to predict the future: our future.

Prediction had, nearly a year removed from that perfect May date that bloomed our love and started our lives together, become a favorite past-time of ours, and an Ohio future looked bleak.

“How can we afford that?” I, the realist, at least between her and I, said.

She pursed her lips as her eyes bounced about and the wheels of her brain turned around – she was always careful to choose the right words, especially when trying to persuade an English major – and thought for just an instant about what to say.  The logic that she had used to justify it to herself swirled about in her mind, vaguely hidden behind her pretty face.

"Anyway we can..."

Bead Head by Gabe Gott in 50 to 1!

Please check out my story, Bed Head, in the current issue of the awesome online literary journal, 50 to 1. The URL is: http://50-to-1.blogspot.com/

Please also read the rest of what this wonderful magazine has to offer.

Thanks,
Gabe