Slaying the Beast, Surviving the 365, or Just an Excuse to Party?

When I was younger, I gleefully rang in the New Year like everyone seems to do. Friends, booze, food and music, party hats, buzzers, confetti, and some things I won't mention, were all a part of the event. It didn't matter WHY we were there. The general thought was WHY NOT?

As I've aged, the New Year celebration has become a complex beast to me. I watch the hordes of people in Times Square at the stroke of midnight and wonder WHY?, because WHY NOT? does not seem a logical or valid response to me anymore. I wonder if they all feel as if they've conquered some vile, horrendous beast that attacked their lives all year. Or are they just happy they survived personal, economic and social challenges for 365 days? Or maybe they're celebrating togetherness? That would be nice. The tribe of mankind hunkering down together against the evils of nuclear annihilation? Or maybe they've never been able to turn down a good party?

Oh, I imagine there would be good reasons to celebrate the end of a calendar date (albeit symbolic at best). Things like beating cancer, publishing your first book, being in the black instead of the red with the business you started last January, etc.. But what if you looked back and nothing spectacular happened other than the fact that you woke everyday, had your health, had your family safe and happy, wherever they may be. What if, like me, you gave thanks for these things every day? What would that leave you to celebrate on New Years eve?

I've steered clear of this celebration for many years now. To be honest, 12/31 feels like 1/1 to me every passing year. If I could be ten years younger on 1/1, I would certainly funnel champagne on 12/31 to celebrate. If I won the Powerball lottery on 12/30, I would probably be celebrating way before 12/31- 23:59, wouldn't you?

I watch the faces of people in Times Square, look for some indication of what they are actually celebrating, thinking, hoping that each had something significant that explained their over-the-top exuberance. But it's possible, just possible, that they like a good party. So be it. We make our own peace in the world and if that helps them to face another calendar year, I'll raise a glass of cider to their honor.

What did you celebrate this News Years eve? I'd like to hear about it!

Here's to good fortune, health and happiness for all in 2012!

Have You Failed Lately?

Failure, to most of us, is a bad word. It’s a last resort. It’s the one thing we try to avoid at all cost. We choose alternate words and phrases to mask this painful word. Words like ‘unsuccessful’ and phrases like ‘come up short’ or ‘almost succeeded’. Either way you dice it, if you tried to obtain a goal and didn’t succeed, then you failed at attaining it.

But is failure such a bad thing? Life is full of lessons and every lesson is defined more by failure than success. Where would we be if we didn’t learn valuable lessons in life. I like to think of a failure as a reason to try harder, a reason to keep on keeping on. I’ve failed at many things in my life, but I know I’m not a failure because do not accept the ‘failure’ attitude.

So, whether you’re a writer, a teacher, a student, a homebody, or just anyone, keep striving to reach your goals, to grasp your dreams, to succeed. Being a true failure is only possible when you give up on what you believe in and embrace an attitude of failure.

Spiffy fact: In case you failed to notice: Failure, or some form of the word, was used 11 times in this post.

Darn! I forgot I had this blog here!

Not really... just been so doggone busy. In fact, I'm heavy into learning all about ebook conversion software. Why, you ask? Because like it or not, the doors are blowing off the traditional publishing model. Ignore it if you want. It's a quick fix society...has been for years. I've played by the rules, played nice, followed the guidelines, waited patiently.

Nobody has ever said, "You suck as a writer! Don't quit your day job...", so I've maintained the course. But I can't ignore the technology, the tools that are available in a free society. Or the growing tide of self-pub mania. Oh, I've not completely pulled out of the trad-pub realm, just keeping my options open. It's like this...if I came to your playground with my dodge ball and I saw you and your friends playing like a bunch of octogenarians wearing depends and sporting walkers, the dust collecting on the ball as it sailed through the air in some odd (and very slow) time warp, and was told I would have to be voted in to play, I would go form my own dodge ball game. I wouldn't care if yours was the Queens dodge ball league and had been around for 150 years. It's that simple.

My first book has undergone a metamorphosis that would put The Fly to shame. I've done all I can do with it, but it will be published. I will not surrender. My second book is coming along nicely and I just did a line edit on the first 200 pages. I've also "sold" a story to a literary publication that will be in print by January and I'm fishing around another short story as I write this. See? I have been busy!

Here's the deal with the trad-status, per say. I'm working with a trad-publisher to get my book in print, but when, no one can say. There is NO contract, just a "gentleman's agreement". I will not live forever. For the life of me, I cannot understand why traditional publishing takes so long! I know the ins and outs of the process, but there seems to be a floating lag factor that cannot be nailed down and stomped like the turtle-paced, snail headed monkey that it is. We've come too far to be operating like scribes from the 16th century. That's why I'm learning ebook stuff. Enough is enough. Sure, I know if I go that route it will be a struggle, but it will be a struggle that I have control of. It will be a struggle that will keep me engaged in the process and not sitting around waiting for the turtle-paced snail head to tell me what's going on.

Well, that was refreshing. Just needed to get that out.

What’s That Smell? Well, it’s NOT team spirit…

Along with all the good things about being a writer, there are a few that we’re not so fast to brag about to our friends and family. I’ve tried to list a few here.

1. First, there’s the “zone”. You know. That moment when your writing is smoking hot and nothing can stand between you and that Pulitzer Prize? When you’re completely engrossed in creativity of a divine nature so high in the planes of existence that you feel immortal? Okay, maybe that’s flourished-up a bit, but you get the drift, right? How you look and act to others is a different matter all together. To them you look “slightly out of it”. This is followed by, ‘Do you feel okay?’ and ‘Is everything all right?’, inevitably leading to the dangerous one, the one that you should avoid if at all possible: ‘Are you listening to me, dear?’

2. Time. Before you took up the task of covering writing media with words, time was pretty much a task master with specific lines, angles and rules. Day job? Arrive at 8, leave at 5. Movie? They’re scheduled for showing, so pick a time and don’t be late. Doctors appointment? 2 p.m. sharp! (plus one “not so sharp” hour while you wait for the doctor). But if you’ve truly taken up writing, truly committed yourself and jumped in with both feet, you’ll discover that “time”, for you at least, grows fuzzy, losing those lines, angles and rules. Appointments missed, trash not put out in time, missed the last showing of the movie you’ve waited months to see, and the list goes on and on.

3. Which leads me to that smell. My wife works outside the home. That said, I am left with the task of preparing certain foods over the course of the day. I’m good at getting it started. I’m just lousy at stopping it. (See 1 and 2 above.)

I mean, who can stop when they’ve got four injured/bleeding characters speeding to the hospital and one of them is about to lose her unborn baby, and perhaps her life, on the backseat of a half demolished minivan? Did I mention the fate of the world hangs on their success of failure? I’ve done countless mad dashes from my office to the kitchen once the smell of seared, burnt or flaming food has permeated my senses. Dangerous? Yes it is. Insane, actually.

I will have to find an alternative for this conflict of interest and necessity, but one thing is for sure: whatever the solution, it will not interfere with my Pulitzer Prize-winning work-in-progress.

Do you have quirks as a writer that go against the grain of the world around you?

Sneak Peek at Concept Cover for New Novel!

New cover art concept added on my website! Latest visual for my next novel. For bigger pic, click on it!

Encore! (Not)

Okay, I was trying to think of what to blog about next, but I couldn’t concentrate. Sentences jumbled together in my head, tripping over one another in a slapstick way. I almost walked outside without my pants on this morning. My coffee grew cold in the mug because I forgot it was sitting there. Why? Because of Gordon Lightfoot (is that an Indian name?) Yes, I’m talking about the Canadian singer/songwriter/poet, etc.. It seems my frontal lobe, in a conspiratorial fashion, booked Mr. Lightfoot for a marathon concert in my head. The song list consist of one song: If You Could Read My Mind.

It started a few weeks ago when I came across an article about this song. It renewed my interest. In my youth, it was one of many songs that came out of my transistor radio and made the summer months more enjoyable. Yes, I know. Why would a young boy be interested in such a sentimental song, right? Well, my musical taste varied greatly, even at an early age. But like most people, the actual lyrics were not all that clear to me. I loved the tune and most of the words. It wasn’t until I looked them up on the internet that I truly saw the lyrical beauty of Gordon’s words.

Two phrases that I never realized existed made this song familiar to my soul all over again. In one (I won’t quote these word for word) he said that heroes rarely succeed. This seems like such a raw and honest assessment of everyday life, and is probably why the few who do succeed are more endeared to our hearts. The second phrase was one of emotional candor that I thought was the crowning moment when the song becomes really, really personal. He tells the woman he’s singing to that for this moment, right now, let’s just be honest and stop all the pretense. These two phrases made the song special to me all over again. I saw it in a new light!

And that was the error of my folly.

I’m not a negative person. I am not an angry person, by nature. But I’ve had a few falling-outs with Mr. Lightfoot over the last week or two. Do you know what it’s like to be mad about something that only exists in your head? That in itself disturbs me greatly.

So, consider this an exercise in exorcising this song from my head. Yes, Gordon, it was and will always be a hauntingly beautiful song. No Gordon, I cannot live with it looped inside my head for the rest of my life.

Have you ever had a song to get stuck in your head? How did you get rid of it? If you listened other music to drive it away, did it work? Or did it get replaced by another song? Feedback, please, before they find me naked in the street screaming horrible things at Mr. Lightfoot and banging my head with a skillet.

And yes, he IS singing If You Could Read My Mind for like the 800th time today as I type this…[expletive deleted]!

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