Slow Down

In my last post, I discussed a writer's identity and how we have to be willing to scrap projects when what we are working on does not fit our identities.  It's probably in the top 5 for posts on this blog that are actually meaningful, and potentially helpful to future writers and artists.  Anyway.  In that post I mentioned how I was sunk into writer's despair and thought that I would never write anything good or of value again.  I thought I had written two books before the age of 27 and that would be it, nothing good would ever again flow from my pen (I got some fountain pens for Christmas, hallelujah!).  What reinforced that thought was my notion that if I couldn't make the hockey book good, then I couldn't make anything good, and thus I wasn't actually any good at writing, and thus I should give up.  Whoa, now!

Since deciding to move on from the writing of the hockey book, I have realized that I need to slow down.  Yes, it's true that John Keats was dead and famous at the age of 25, and many authors do know fame before 30, and many authors do know fame, or at least some substantial success, with their first attempt, but I, and most other writers and artists, need to accept that I am not those people.  Perhaps it is because my writing is not popular writing, or perhaps it is because I'm not good at networking or marketing or anything, or perhaps it is because I'm just not very good or interesting as a writer.  Whatever the reason, I am almost 27 now and not famous, even with my first book out in the published world now for four months.  It's no cause for shame, however, and it's certainly no cause for me to try and rush into projects that are not part of my identity, like the hockey book, only because the dream of having yet another book is too enticing for an under-recognized author, and then only to be mired in a land of insecurity and fear.

What I and probably every other less-than-famous writer or artist needs to do is slow down.  Slow down and take stock of the positives.  For me, shortly after my 27th birthday, I will be able to say that I have one self-published book and one publisher published book out in the world, neither of which are trivial writings, and that I am married to a lovely woman... a lovely woman that, oh by the way, is devoted to helping me be a better writer by a) reading and editing, and b) taking over all the agent-type responsibilities that I hate doing, can't do, or simply am not good at doing.  Honestly, Danielle's presence in my life is perhaps the greatest asset that my writing career has: with her by my side, I will be much more likely to send essays and short stories to journals and magazines and such than if I were doing the single thing or married to some other woman.  There are a whole bunch of reasons why I love her and will be joyful to have married her, but I cannot hide how crucial she is to my future writing career.  I can truthfully say that without her, my writing career would be a big nothing.  So anyway, I will have a lot that many 27 year-olds do not have.  I will already have a legacy, something that I can pass on to my family and say, "Look, your [whatever my relation is to the person I'm talking to] published something smart."  I might also add, "Suckaaaah."  Essentially, once I published the first book, I had reason to be content, and in being content to slow down and ask the question, "Now what?"

Slowing down and asking the now-what, I can take more time on each project because I'm no longer in an urgent race against death.  I'm still in a race against death, but it's far less urgent--I've already published.  So why shouldn't I work only on the things that I want to work on?  Why shouldn't I spend a little more time on each project to ensure better quality?  Why shouldn't I relax a little bit and not demand of myself that I publish two or three major things a year?  Even if I didn't have other responsibilities and obligations in my life, such as my part-time job and my tutoring students and my preparing to be a pastor, I'd still have reason to slow down and enjoy life.  That's the now what: enjoying life.  I've done, at least partially, what I set out to do as a writer.  Continuing to write I will only do what I've already done over and over again, which is not reason to stop writing but it is reason to stop rushing.  Rushing only got me into trouble, and in fact slowed down my work because now my last four months have nothing to bring to the world.

Slowing down, I can work better and more joyfully, and produce a better product.  The aim is always to write to share with others, but there's no need anymore to rush to publication.

I guess the lesson here is to work hard and feverishly on a solid first work, and then rest easy knowing that you have secured your legacy and done your job.  Life and being a writer are never things we can coast through, because there are always more things to say or new ways to say it, so I don't mean "rest easy" in the sense that you should slack off.  I mean "rest easy" in the sense that, yes, there are always more or new things to say, but don't try to do everything all at once or even before your time is up here on Earth.  If you work hard, you'll probably create something fairly early in life, and once it's created it can't be taken away from you, so why wear yourself out trying to do everything?  Just do what your identity calls you to do, do it joyfully and do it well, and think about nothing else until it's done.

Have other life obligations in your way?  So what?  If you decide to, or if you must, work a job of some sort while trying to be a writer, or trying to follow through any other life dream or hobby, then so be it.  The advice remains the same: work hard and diligently to create a solid first product, and then slow down after that knowing that you are accomplished.  A rested heart will do so much more than a continuously heavy heart.

A Writer's Identity

A writer's identity rules.  Since I frequently interchange terms, I'll also say that an artist's identity rules.  I don't mean "rules" in the sense that a writer's identity, or character, outshines the personality of all other people.  That is probably true in my case, but I don't want to generalize.  Instead what I mean is that a writer's identity must rule the writer's lifelong project.

For the past few months, I have had a one-track mind.  This one track has often derailed my train.  What has the one track been?  Trying to finish a book about ball hockey that, once I started it, I definitely did not want to write. 

I love ball hockey.  I grew up playing it, was amazing at it, and wish that I had continued playing the sport now that I know there are world championships and other really cool tournaments.  There's a part of me that will always want to write a book about the sport because the sport is a part of me.  But that part of me is not who I am as a writer.  In this case, it truly sucks, excusing my language, because I had promised some old hockey buddies of mine that I would write this book... and that promise enabled me to extract some of their assistance in researching the book.  Yet I can't deny that after the first month of researching and writing, the only motivation I had for continuing to write the book was that I had made a promise.  In some cases that motivation is and should be a very forceful motivation.  All of those cases, though, involve deadlines imposed by publishers: if you make a promise to a publisher that you will have written something, then you darn well better write it, even if you don't care about writing it.  Deadlines are entirely other than the promise that I've made.  Good thing, too, because now I've learned a lesson about what I should promise to write and what I shouldn't promise to write that might come in handy when actual publishers play a role in my life, if ever.   

Why did I even start to write the book, then?  Well, as I said, I wish I had continued playing the sport so that I could take part in international tournaments--some old friends of mine had the opportunity to represent Team USA--I'm sure that I could have, too, but that's beside the point--and I thought that was just so cool.  Suddenly I was on a ball hockey kick reminiscing how great the sport is and wanting the rest of the world to see how great the sport is. 

Why is that book not part of my identity?  As much as I may want to in this case, I don't write histories.  I'm not a biographer.  And I don't write about sports.  Perhaps I may use ball hockey as an example of some larger, moralistic or religious concept in an essay, but I can't write about it for a book.  And that's the thing: the book that I wanted to write on ball hockey could not simply be about ball hockey; I kept struggling with making it into something more than that, and then being totally dissatisfied with the result.  I write humorous short stories that also prove the futility of living poor, unfocused lives; I write religious/political/philosophical essays that point to every individual's powerful, divine nature; I write to urge us all to live intentional lives, lives that revolve around a carefully crafted center.  That's my identity as a writer, and ball hockey unfortunately does not fit into that.

Why does any of this matter?  As I've said, the half-desire to write the book on ball hockey has narrowed my mind into a one-track mind.  Whenever I have had time to do anything writing related, I've tried to work on the hockey book.  At first the going was slow.  Then the going was crappy.  Then it was slow again.  Then it was utterly frustrating.  Then the going was not going at all.  When the going stopped going, I didn't stop worrying about the book and didn't stop feeling burdened by it.  Through it all, I had to manage the self-publication of my first book, the first official book release, and beginning to work with a publisher on my second publication.  I am fairly certain that all those life events suffered because I was working, sort of, on something that was no more than a burden to me.  Maybe you could also deduce that I have not written anything for a long time.  It's not for want of trying.  It's for want of writing the right things.  I have a lot of projects to work on that are actually part of my lifelong project, the lifelong project that suits and furthers my identity as a writer, but I haven't worked on any of them because I've had the notion that I should finish the hockey book first.  More or less it's been four months of useless activity.  Now I must scrap the hockey book project.

Through it all Danielle and I have discovered that the project of building a ball hockey rink is indeed part of our identity.   That is something that the both of us would enjoy doing and operating.  But writing a book about ball hockey?  No, not for me.  I will probably feel endless regret when the sport grows, and it is growing, to the point that the first historian of the sport will receive lots of accolade for his or her work.  "That should have been me," I'll say.  I will have to remind myself that, no, it should not have been me.  That job is indeed for someone else to take up. 

Through it all I have discovered that knowing one's writing identity must rule what projects we undertake.  More than that, if we undertake a project that doesn't suit our identity, being aware of and sticking to our identity will help us have the strength to scrap that project.  And trust me, scrapping a project that doesn't suit us is much better than struggling and/or drowning in self-loathing while working on projects outside of our identity.  Just writing this post a few hours after finally deciding to move past the hockey book and revert back to the projects I had been working relieves me more than you could know, and in that relief I once again feel the power and joy of writing.  I had feared that I would never write anything good or of value ever again.  In all seriousness, walking away from my identity for even a few months sunk me in writer's despair, a despair I hope not to experience again any time soon.  I feel so much better now, after deciding to move on, that I'm cutting into my sleep time to write this post: I had to share the good news with someone, anyone, and Danielle was already asleep.

All writers have an identity.  Some writers are more diverse than others, meaning that they are capable of working in more diverse mediums and in more styles, but those more diverse and probably more talented writers still have an identity.  All writers have an identity, a project.  Following through with that identity maximizes the writer's potential with each and every effort; following through with that identity maximizes the writer's sense of joy and accomplishment; following through with that identity limits the risk of failing miserably; following through with that identity is itself a success.  If craft a good identity for yourself and then let yourself be ruled by that identity, you are well on your way to being a good writer.

(Unfortunately I must end this post with an apology to all those whom I promised a completed book on ball hockey.  The best I can do is build a rink, further grow the sport, and hope that in a few years' time, our stories will be told by someone more fit for the task)

Administrating your Life

I've no doubt talked about this before, but the importance of working out a good schedule of work can never be underestimated.  It is absolutely crucial, especially because it can be easy for a writer or artist to be controlled by the present moment.  Ever hear of the tyranny of the present?  It's real, folks.  Even if you don't have a full or part-time job while you are trying to be a writer, it's still easy to get sucked up in our to-do lists: okay, I have to do laundry, change the cat's litter, do the dishes, call friend A, mail the bills, call friend B, check facebook, check e-mails, check facebook, exercise, take a break and watch an episode of The League, answer the phone, frick the day's done!!!  There's a lot of stuff that we need to get done each day, particularly if we live alone.  If we don't know how to manage our time well then we're screwed.  I'll be the first to say that I don't manage my time well.  Over the past few years I have noticed my complete inability to manage my time and have tried to come up with a laid-back system that can help me administrate my life better.  Hopefully what I share with you can be helpful, even if you aren't a budding writer or artist.

First of all, a physical calendar is a must.  Personally, since I'm all traditional and such, I refuse to own an i-phone let alone use my phone as a calendar.  But if your phone is always on you (mine isn't) then it makes sense to use it as a calendar because it can send you reminders.  There are countless good calendars that you can use on the computer and/or Internet as well.  Still, I'm serious, you should have a physical, print calendar that can fit in your bag or purse or whatever.  This calendar should be your primary calendar.  Write absolutely everything in it, from appointments to reminders to a to-do list.  The key to the calendar is that you check it every morning and every night.  If you write everything in it, then you can't ever miss anything or forget something; and, more importantly, you don't have to think about things until you get around to seeing them in the calendar and then doing them.  It saves a whole lot of mental anguish.  Saving yourself mental anguish is essential if you want to use brain power for activities other than working a desk job. 

When you have the calendar and are writing everything in it, you can better arrange your days.  If you are writing everything down in your calendar, then you are including chores like washing dishes and doing laundry.  When you are doing that, you can see how much time each day you'll be spending doing necessary chores so that you can decide whether you should write bills on Monday or Tuesday, call friend A on Monday or Tuesday, etc.  Once you know how much time you'll be spending doing necessary life events, you can allocate time to do less necessary life events like calling friends.  You can further allocate rest and relaxation time.  Then, once you have everything written down, you'll know approximately how much time you will have to write, or do whatever your hobby is.  You don't even have to write down when you're going to do an activity as long as you know that you will do that activity on a certain day.  Even better, you can start to arrange unnecessary life events all on one day, and then have the rest of the week to write in your free time.  If you aren't keeping track of all the things that you need to do in a calendar, though, you wouldn't be able to free up your time in that way. 

With a physical, print calendar it's also easier to review what's coming up for the week and when you'll have time to do your writing.  Of course, if you get into a routine, you might know that you'll have time for writing on certain days, but it's always good to have a calendar to look at and see all the time you've carved out for yourself.  Sometimes the pressures of life are overwhelming to the point that it seems like you'll never write again.  Having a calendar handy to work everything out on will ease your tension in such cases. 

You should only use your phone or ipad calendar, or whatever electronic calendar you're using, as a backup.  For instance, if you decide that you want to call friend B on your way home from a social outing, then you should put that in your phone calendar as a reminder.  And if you are the type of person who likes to arrange their days by the hour or minute, then use your electronic calendar to give you reminders at the time that you want to do certain activities.  Otherwise, the print calendar should be the way to go so that you can keep your mind clear, not get interrupted by buzzing, and still always stay on top of your life.

The next tip is to write everything down.  Yes, I've already said to write everything down in your calendar, but I'm now I'm not talking about chores and events and such.  I mean write everything down.  Carry around a small notebook or notebook paper with you everywhere you go.  Have another notebook by your bed.  Wherever you are you should be able to write something down if you need to.  Writers need this tip more than other people, but everyone should learn to start writing down every idea, every thought, everything.  I'm serious when I say that our minds can often get bogged down with things that we've forgotten, even if those things aren't important.  When we spend any length of time thinking we should note what our brainstorming has created.  If we look at our note a day or two later and decide it's worthless, then fine, but whether we realize it or not our minds spend a lot of energy trying to recall ideas that we've already thought of before.  If we can either store it away somewhere or let our mind know that we'll never be needing that thought again, then we'll be cleared for more action.  Seriously.  This is a serious piece of advice.  Start writing everything down your mind will be far more clear and productive. 

Obviously you'll need to work out some system for storing all your notes.  That is my third and final piece of advice on administrating your life that I'll give today.  You should have a solid filing system.  If you're anything like me, you won't often put away files; but it's important to know that everything has a place for when you're feeling cluttered.  Have a file for correspondence, for bills, for bank information, for your notes, for just about everything.  Your life will be more clean and, most importantly, your mind will be far more clean.  Seriously.  If you can free your mind from all the clutter and store the crap elsewhere, to be used later when you want it or need it, then you will be greatly productive. 

First Official Book Launch

A couple of months ago I had a book release party with some of my fiancee's family, and that was great and exciting.  Having that type of support is absolutely necessary, and knowing that there are people willing to host a party or drive to an event for you is certainly motivating.  But still I have yet to have an official and public book launch.  That will all change on Saturday, the 23rd.

I don't really know what to expect.  I don't even know how many people might be coming.  All I know is that marketing the book has had some serious ups and downs--most of the downs coming before I hired my fiancee as my agent, and most of the ups coming after that fateful event.  The very fact that I am having a book launch (at Harvest Cafe, Hudson, MA) is because of the hard work of my fiancee and my mother: one being my agent, the other my semi-agent.  I'm very excited, then, to have a book launch, but more excited that I've discovered a formula for marketing and publishing: have an agent!

My next post will be much more exciting, on the need of finding an agent, but for now I just wanted to document on my blog that I'm having a public book launch.  Since this blog is about the journey to writing fame, I figure such documentation is worthwhile, eh?

Fear

If anyone has seen Donnie Darko, you'll know how silly the simple dynamic between fear and love is.  You can't boil all of life down to a lifeline of fear and love.  And yet it remains true that the two greatest of human emotions, or two of the greatest anyway, are fear and love.  Love may not always be the best motivator, but fear is a very serious detractor. 

As a writer, fear manifests itself in many ways.  The first and most dangerous manifestation is writer's block.  Writer's block can be a very real phenomenon: a writer may sit down and concentrate very hard but nothing comes out.  I'd wager, though, that most of the time writer's block is a result of some sort of fear; fear that what comes into one's head isn't very good and not worth writing.  Surely, many a thing will flit through a writer's head that isn't worth sharing with those closest to you, let alone a wide reading audience.  I categorize the hesitancy to write down unworthy words as fear rather than prudence because every writer/artist should know that the act of writing is a positive act.  One sentence leads to another and, eventually, you hit upon some praiseworthy phrases, sentences, paragraphs, pages, and then maybe whole books.  If you instead sit around without writing anything waiting for some magical spark to pop into your head, fearing what will happen if you write down the nonsense occupying your mind, then you're lost.

The other major fear that might impede our progress in the act of writing is that of editing.  Once you have a piece finished you have to edit.  But you might fear that the entire work is crap and beyond salvation, so you scrap the entire project... or, worse, you put off the project.  Putting off the project--still wanting to finish it for whatever reason--is much worse than scrapping all of it and moving on to the next project, because often if you put off one project it will be near impossible, if not entirely impossible, to work on anything at all while the unwanted piece calls out to you from a secluded drawer.  Your mind can never concentrate on the task at hand when there's another task waiting to be done.  The editing fear is similar to the already-published fear: I've published something, but I'm too afraid to draw much attention to it because I fear what might happen if people actually read it. 

Unfortunately I've been dealing with both the latter fears recently.  The book that I'm working on hasn't been worked on for a long time, partly because of life events but partly because I fear spending too much time on the project when I have the time.  So I don't make the time.  Or, if I do make the time, I refuse to take advantage.  I think it's awful and I worry what will happen if I ever finish it.  27 Million Revolutions has been published for over a month now and I've hardly marketed it because I fear that, having done the marketing, still no one would buy it or care, and I can't handle that.  I'd rather no one buy the book because I haven't done the marketing than no one buy it because they don't care about the book, the subject, or about supporting me.  "I'm very, very afraid," in the words of Donnie Darko. 

Indeed, fear blocks the paths of most of us as we seek out our goals and dreams in life.  When we are growing up we envision ourselves being something totally cool... but then grow up and find ourselves thinking, "Eh, it's too much hard work, and I fear that I might put in the hard work but still fail and then be left with nothing."  Sometimes our fears so convince us that we shouldn't pursue our dreams in life that we are also convinced that our dreams are actually wrong or evil or some terrible nonsense.  I say this as someone who believes in God, and therefore also believe that are some life paths that should be off-limits: fear should not have such control over us.

There is some truth to the notion that the act of pursuing our dreams matters more than whether or not we succeed.  The hard work we must put in to achieve our goals does usually have positive effects on us as people. 

There is more truth, however, to the fact that if we are afraid, then we need to find friends and partners who can encourage us and hold us accountable to the lofty heights of our imaginations.  If we or God cannot remove fear from our eyes, then someone must; otherwise we'll never be a good writer, or a good at anything except mediocrity. 

Success!

Finally... after a number of promises, plans, disappointments, frustrations, more promises, more plans, more disappointments and more frustrations, and then a long wait... my book is actually a book!  I'm not even going to bother writing a post about this because... well actually because I don't know how I feel right now.  Obviously I'm excited, I feel accomplished, la di da, but none of it has hit me yet.

Anyway, buy the book, tell your friends, have them buy the book, make the world a better place.

Here's the Amazon listing.

Amazon Awesomeness

Self-Publishing and Confidence

After reading my last post you might understand why it's been such a struggle for me to really, indeed, come to terms with self-publishing.  It seems like a failure to me and has caused a great many rifts in the canyon of my mind.  The concept of self-publishing contrasted to getting published by a real publishing company is bad enough, but the fact that to self-publish you then have to coordinate various things on your own adds another struggle.  For instance, you have to provide your own cover art, do your own editing and formatting, find a company to print the book, and advertise yourself.  Most of these tasks I have covered with the hard work and support of my mother and parents--we are learning together; and the cover art will be provided by my ever great, supportive and understanding artist-friend Ms. Sherman.  I'm not worried about the final product.  However, having to learn all this and do it on our own has caused a great many delays, long delays, that have drastically pushed back my hoped-for publication date.  It's no one's fault, just the nature of self-publishing, especially for newcomers.  On top of that, and this is the worst part, I have constantly questioned how supported I really am... which in turn leads to serious questions of self-esteem.  You can only hear, "I don't have the time," or, worse, "I haven't made the time," so often before you think that some of the people you were most relying on can't really be relied on.

For a new, struggling, new, dreamy, new, inexperienced, new, very new writer, general emotions and confidence are apparently of the utmost importance.  I didn't know that when I first set out on this journey a year ago.  I thought that my love of writing and self-assessed skill as a writer would carry me through any issues.  That hasn't been the case at all.  Until I get a couple of publications out of the way I think that even the smallest of cracks in my confidence will continue to turn me against writing and change my assessment of my writing skill.  At the moment, for instance, I think I rank lower as a writer than Stephanie Meyer, or whatever the heck her name is.  Coming from my lips, or fingers, that's saying a lot.  And though Alexandra (aka Ms. Sherman) has tried to lift my spirits by saying that writing on my blog counts as writing, I beg to differ.  My writing on this blog has been a hate-hate relationship from the start, and now I'm on the hate side: the hate side of realizing that I'm only writing on the blog because I'm afraid to write anything real.

You could say that I'm a big baby.  You'd be absolutely right.  I am.  I'm begging for attention.  Am I wrong for doing that?  The answer is probably, "yes," no matter what, but I wonder if maybe I should beg for attention if it will help me serve the universal community by writing.  But then, do I still think that I can help anyone, or even hurt anyone, by writing?  Not at the moment.  I don't have the confidence, mostly because I don't have the support.  Can you believe that?  Since I feel like I don't have enough support, I have such a low opinion of my writing that I don't even think that I can hurt anyone.  If I pointed out the person reading this blog from two rows back, three seats from center, and said, "Hey, you're a *$#*$& and a &@$_@$, why do you continue to $(@@*^% live?" they would laugh at me.

How much of this has to do with self-publishing?  Only a little, but every little bit of insecurity gets magnified when you self-publish.  That's what I'm learning anyway.  And this process of self-publishing for the first time, to finally put the story of my bike trip, 27 Million Revolutions for 27 Million Slaves, has been absolutely brutal.

If you plan on self-publishing, good for you.  But understand that you'll either be the laughingstock of others or the laughingstock of yourself.  It should be an occasion of pride when the publication comes to fruition, especially if it's not just a bunch of blabber, but getting to that point, and even after, will almost certainly be full of a great many of occasions of self-questioning, depression, waywardness, and distancing from some of those people you are closest to.

Temptation

I've written before about how a writer should/must/does approach relationships.  It's not all romantic and crap like many people think after being exposed to ridiculous films and novels.  Being in a relationship with a writer or artist involves all sorts of awfulness that a majority of couples only experience in small doses.  The best thing that a writer/artist can do is acknowledge those issues, and then hope that the significant other can deal with it somewhat happily.  Oh well.  In this post I don't want to talk about relationships and blah blah blah, but only want to call up your memory of previous posts to put this one in context.

What I want to talk about here is that being a writer/artist will often mean that you confront the ugly head of Temptation more often, or at least more strongly, than most stable people.  Mostly, I think, it's because writers/artists are, on average, less stable than most.  I don't mean to play into a stereotype because in a strange way I don't agree with what I just said.  All I mean when I say that writers/artists are less stable than most people is that, as far as I know, as a writer or artist you will go through some serious ebbs and flows in confidence, motivation, inspiration, intentionality, reflection, insight, and all the other qualities that any good writer or artist needs to operate.  If any one of those qualities suffers then, in the back of your head, you will suddenly find yourself asking how worthwhile your vocation is.  When you find yourself asking such an important life question, Temptation lurks around the corner.

Yes, I do mean to capitalize Temptation.  In fact I debated whether I should just go with TEMPTATION.  Or maybe even TEMPTATION.  i CAPITALI... excuse me--I capitalize because the temptation I mean is not just the temptation to watch more TV than you should.  Or to watch too many stupid, mind-numbing, stupid shows.  That is a temptation to be wary of, but it is a temptation that should be indulged, perhaps, once in a while.  Perhaps; depending on how often you watch that crap to begin with.  No, the temptation I speak of is the type of Temptation that can ruin your life: cheating on a significant other, running around naked in downtown Boston, jumping off a bridge, or just plain giving up and hope that someone will pay for you to do nothing with the rest of your life, et cetera.  We often hear, or stereotypically think of, artists of various kinds engaging in these or similar ruinous activities because, as I have said, artists will often find themselves faced with this Temptation more than most people.  It makes for a tumultuous emotional/spiritual life unless you have superior willpower.  And all of it is the result of losing an essential part of the artists' life: confidence, motivation, inspiration, intentionality, reflection, insight, etc.  These qualities are so part of the artists life that they become the artist, and once losing one our inclination is to turn to something, anything, to recover the quality we have lost.  Hence Temptation.

I have no good response to this Temptation.  Even with an awareness that such Temptation can seriously screw me over, or make me feel so guilty and awful that I might as well have screwed myself over, and with a faith that tells me my God wants me to live a better life, I still often succumb to Temptation.  My record against Temptation is only about .500.  That may be good enough for the Seattle Seahawks to make the playoffs over the 11-5 New England Patriots in 2008, but it's really not very good at all.

I don't think, either, that such Temptation or the giving in to it makes a good artist.  I think many artists and writers would be far better if they only experienced the Temptation once in a while, realized the consequences, but never gave in.  It would be far better if the artist didn't undergo losses of confidence and motivation on such a regular basis that it would seem that our job is to condemn our own work.  We could get a whole lot more done, then.  But, inevitably, our imaginations are such that our dreams are big--for many of us, making it to the top of the world when we shoot for the stars seems like a failure.  Of course, that's just my reversing an expression.  If I made it to the top of the world I'd be happy, but hopefully you get my point anyway.

The Blithedale Romance

Recently read The Blithedale Romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne.  Since Hawthorne clearly inserts himself into the role of narrator, aka Miles Coverdale, and indirectly asks the question of how he is perceived by the world and how he should fit into the world, I really felt comfort in reading it.  I am constantly depressed and overwhelmed and exhausted by trying to live like everyone else, so it's nice to read that Hawthorne had the exact same problem, fictionalizing his thoughts on the subject often ("The Artist of the Beautiful" is probably his other most famous work on the subject).  It doesn't exactly make me feel better to consider Hawthorne's final conclusion in Blithedale, that he--and I--should simply avoid living normally in any context, but at least I know I'm not alone.  The major problem here is that Hawthorne had clear talent that I do not have.  So, maybe I will have to live normally and forego my writing.  Oh well.  Anyway, since I'm talking about it, I'll include the review that I wrote for Blithedale here and call it a day.

This book lacks much of what you might expect of Hawthorne and suffers because of it.  The "romance" that Hawthorne should be most recognized for struggles mightily to fit into the narrative.  What supernatural/mysterious elements that do exist are of a lower order; far less mysterious than one might hope.  The character Westervelt remains a mystery to the end, but unlike Chillingworth or Judge Pyncheon in Hawthorne's other major works, Westervelt simply doesn't make a whole lot of sense.  Truthfully, it's as if Hawthorne desperately wanted to write a story about his Brook Farm experience but, in writing it, found himself scrambling for some type of conflict to rescue his thoughts from being merely a long essay.  His solution is a half-baked one with Westervelt and Priscilla.  The cohesiveness of the plot likewise suffers because it must bear the burden of added, alien material to the text.

Aside from the fact that I was greatly disappointed in not finding Hawthorne in this romance, and the fact that the plot is a mess, there are a number of nice surprises in Blithedale.  As one example, Hawthorne explores the depth of personality in his characters far more determinedly than he does elsewhere.  Really authors everywhere could use Blithedale as a model for what we call "characterization."  Not that any of these characters are particularly riveting or inspiring, but Hawthorne has created characters that are extremely believable, realistic, consistent, and exactly like your next door neighbor.  They are timeless characters considering the timeless question of how and whether to develop a utopia.  Coverdale is a typical white-collar intellectual (like myself, I suppose), Zenobia is the hypocritical graceful person who lacks any real goodness or conviction, Priscilla is the loving and emotional but loyal friend, and Hollingsworth is the closed-minded "open-minded" philanthropist that we all know and praise but really shouldn't.  Typically for Hawthorne, there are very few characters introduced, and those all receive a great deal of time and analysis.  The only other characters than the main four are Westervelt and Silas Foster and Old Moodie.  Unlike Hawthorne, though, these characters are absolutely timeless and therefore rather educational as models or anti-models.

The major reason that the characters are timeless is that, not surprising at all in a Hawthorne piece, the driving force of the book is the question of a practical matter: creating utopia.  That sounds fantastic and impractical, but considering that people try creating utopias at least once a generation, and the very notion of government and social construction, convinces us that we are all constantly involved in the same narrative.  Because Hawthorne so often tackles romantic stories he rarely mixes his thoughtful and observant moralism with tangibly practical matters.  In doing so he has finally reached the height of his ability in developing characters, all of whom have clear faults and strengths, and the reader is left to determine what type of character is best to live in this world with.  Hawthorne purposely does not answer that question.  Nor does he directly answer the question of the practicality of creating the utopia; he simply emphatically denies his own suitability for such a task in having Coverdale retreat from Blithedale. 

At the end of the day, Blithedale is not a great story, sad face; but it is a great fictionalization of superb philosophical and theological pondering about the human quest for perfection, individually and socially.  Of all fictional authors I've ever read, Hawthorne probably has the best mind.  And thus he is well-suited for such a task as writing Blithedale.  He just unfortunately lacks the novelistic skills to carry it off in a more entertaining fashion.

For anyone out there interested in an author's including autobiographical material in fiction, Blithedale is also probably the best source for getting to know Hawthorne.  Since Blithedale so clearly reflects on Hawthorne's experience at Brook Farm, and Coverdale so clearly mirrors Hawthorne, you can see how Hawthorne may have responded to certain events in his life point by point.  Personally, as a writer struggling to find my place in the world, I find a lot of comfort in reading Blithedale through Coverdale's narration.  That's all I'll say.

Spiritual Life

Look people, I talked a few posts ago about how writers and artists have personal lives that we need to be respectful of, but now I'm going to tell you that we writers and artists need to be respectful of our own personal lives.

Seems like commonsense to respect our own personal lives, but many of us don't.  Now, when I title this post, "Spiritual Life," I don't mean to suggest that we need to believe in anything other than ourselves.  If you know anything about me you know that I do hope and pray that you'll believe in God, but that's another story.  What I mean by "Spiritual Life" is that we need to live intentionally.  Without doing so we cut into our potential for success, joy and contentment.  Seriously.

Now what do I mean by living intentionally?  Simple.  Instead of running through life from one moment to the next, from one job to the next, from one exciting idea to the next, without ever sitting down and understanding who we are and what our general system for life should be, we should always center ourselves in a knowledge of who we want to be and what we want out of life.  By that I don't mean that we can simply say, "I want money and a family," and think that's good enough for centering ourselves.  Look people, if you want to be successful or happy--how I loathe that word!--you sure as hell better start dreaming about what you want and who you want to be and then constantly integrating those dreams into your current reality.  With each passing day, with each passing life choice, you need to meditate on who you are and where you're going; why you're doing certain things, why you're dating certain people, why you're working in the career that you are, etc. etc.  I don't mean, either, occasionally sighing to yourself, "Why in the world am I doing this..."  Hating your life for a second or two doesn't count as living intentionally, though it may very well be a good spark.

I'm totally serious here, people.  If you don't have this type of spiritual life you'll feel weighed down way more than you need to.  If you are religious, a heavy dose of prayer, scripture-reading, worshiping, etc. are also a must.  The lack of a spiritual life weighs you down, drains your motivation, infects your work, and convinces you, generally, that life isn't worth living.  As a writer or artist, once you get to the "life isn't worth living" stage, you then start questioning what the point of being a writer or artist is.  And questioning your life's work can be the end of you.  Trust me, I'm also there myself.

Meth. Addicts

One of the projects I'm now working on is a journal--a print journal.  I am so incredibly tired of doing all this writing on-line and for a blog and blah blah blah, that I'm finally transforming a blog that I once worked on into a print journal.  And by golly, I'm going to force people to read it by sending it to them, for the first few issues, without their consent.

The journal is going to be called Meth. Addicts, short for Methodist Addicts.  Yes, it's going to be a religious journal.  A very short religious journal, of course, since I'm just one man, and the other writers that I have signed up are all busy people.  Like for my other projects I have to do a lot of research for this project, too, not the least including researching what churches I can force-feed my journal to.  In general the journal is so wonderfully conceived it's rather inconceivable.

Really that's all I have to say about Meth. Addicts at the moment.  You'll have to wait for issues 1, 2, and 3, all of which will be free (and forced on people nationwide) to see what it's all about.  You'll love the first three issues so much that you'll want to subscribe for issues 4 and after.  That's a guarantee. 

Research

It's hard for me to accept that one of the major tasks of a writer is to conduct research.  It's hard for me to accept because the main reason why I have done so little with my life in the past year is to take a break from the mental exhaustion of school.  And if we're all honest with ourselves, the life of a writer seems romantic partly because we think that as a writer we'd be able to write whatever in the heck we want to write.  Well, that's simply not true.

In a sense, yes, a writer or artist can do whatever they want to.  Of course, there are rules to follow or break (grammar, structure and plot lines are the major ones for writers, I think) while writing, but there are no rules about what can be written.  Culture may like or dislike what a writer has to say but cultural taste does not amount to a rule.  And, so, much of the writing that I have done in the past year has been whatever the heck I wanted it to be as I spouted off my thoughts without a care in the world.  Even my book about my bike trip (which will be published in a matter of weeks, finally) essentially was whatever I wanted it to be because I had already done the research long before I sat down to write it.

I've come to find, however, that such a life of whimsical writing cannot long be sustained.  For instance, as I started writing my novel--which has been on the backburner, way in the back, for a few months now--I realized that I needed to be accurate with my account of the streets of Boston or else people would notice.  I couldn't very well set my story in Boston and not know where my characters could live and work.  I couldn't say that my main character lives on Yawkey Way, because no one lives on Yawkey Way.  As an example.  That little bit of research didn't bother me since I am somewhat familiar with Boston and it doesn't take long to figure out where the many apartments in the city are located.

Recently my research demands have been much more heavy.  My main project at the moment is a book that uses the sport of ball hockey (or floor hockey, or street hockey, or dek hockey, it has many names) as a foundation for the question of how and why and when people should do what they love at the expense of other life opportunities.  Very rarely does the giver of the advice, "Do what you love in life," take into account the many compromises and sacrifices involved.  That's what my book is about.  In order to write this book, though, I needed to do a lot of research about the sport and the people who play the sport... even the people who don't play the sport.  Another project that I'm thinking about working on after the hockey project has been completed is a little series on reading authors through the lens of faith.  I covered Oscar Wilde in my undergraduate thesis, but now I want to turn to Hawthorne and Dylan Thomas.  To write that series I, of course, need to read lots of Hawthorne and Thomas and a lot about Hawthorne and Thomas.  So my reading lately has been entirely focused on Hawthorne.

Certainly I don't mind reading a ton of Hawthorne.  He's great.  But the fact that I'm reading him for research purposes and trying to do a whole lot of other research reminds me of something I said in one of my very first posts of this blog: a quotation of Hank Moody, from Californication, that being a writer is like one long homework assignment that never ends.  If you're a writer, you can't ever stop being a writer--in other words, it's on your mind all the time.  You can't go 9-5 and then forget about what you're doing at night or on the weekends.  Also, if you're a writer you're going to have to continually engage in all sorts of school-type activities like research.  It's not all fun and games or, better said, you better love the crap out of school.  Becoming a writer or artist isn't a beautiful escape from the dreary life of school, it's an eternal welcoming of school life. 

Moving

Life does happen to writers, even and especially the unknown struggling ones.  I, for one, have spent the last two months or so preparing to move, and then moving.  I'm now living with my fiancee way up in northern Vermont and have written just about squat that entire time.

I tell you this because, first of all, many people think of writers and artists as these obscure people who do nothing but write or paint or whatever.  Man would I love it if that were true.  But, as you may or may not have gathered in some of my previous posts, most writers/artists are either spoiled brats (just a term, not true) and can live off inheritance money or they are working on the side.  Or they are working, and writing on the side.  The idea that writers sit around in a crappy apartment for years on end is rather romantic and sometimes true, but most of the time writers and artists have other things going on in their lives.  To expect a writer or artist to have nothing else going on in their lives is a little ridiculous and rather selfish.

Currently I have to remind myself of this in terms of George R.R. Martin, author of the famous Song of Ice and Fire series.  It takes a butt long time for him to publish each book and it's rather annoying.  But, then, who knows what he has going on?  No one should expect him to work at a god's pace.

The other reason I tell you about my move is that since I started planning to move my life has been hectic.  Before the packing I had been extremely productive.  Now, with no job but many dreams, it's unlikely that I will write much in the near future until I can rest assured that my life won't jump over the guardrails.  There are some projects, however, that have been grandfathered in from the "extremely productive" period right before the move.  Those projects I'll tell you about in the nearish future.

One of those projects is directly relevant to what I'm talking about here and the fact that writers have real lives.  I'm trying to build a dek hockey rink.  That's right, I am hopping into the world of entrepreneurship and community development.  If it happens, my life will be all set: I'd make lots of money, the community would love me, and I'd have plenty of time to write, all while I continue my slow advance toward one day being a pastor.  Quite frankly, the tangible lives of writers can be very time-consuming, so the fact that we spend any time writing for your benefit should reward us with high amounts of praise.  I'm ready to listen to your well-wishes of thanksgiving.

Flagstaff and Hotel Monte Vista

For lunch the day of my arrival in Flagstaff I ate with a retired Army veteran named Henry on the train.  We had a very lively and fascinating discussion about his service, his life, and his thoughts about the direction of the country.  All of that was quickly forgotten, however, when I stepped off the train onto the streets of downtown Flagstaff.

I had two hotels to choose from for their proximity to the station: The Weatherford and Hotel Monte Vista.  The Weatherford has a more luxurious feel to it, but I chose Hotel Monte Vista because it screams old-town downtown Flagstaff like no other.  The hotel’s sign blazed above the Flagstaff skyline to welcome me.

Ladies and gentlemen, Hotel Monte Vista is a blast.  Unfortunately I fell down with a minor sinus infection during my stay and was thus unable to fully take advantage of the hotel, but it’s rather obvious how much fun can be had.  Hotel Monte Vista boasts two bars and special offerings every night.  If you’re visiting the area and are anywhere near Hotel Monte Vista I highly recommend going out for the day and enjoying whatever you want to and then returning to the excitement of the hotel.  You’d have a day packed with fun and, if you have some drinks at the bars, maybe some relaxation as well.  If you don’t drink and don’t care for the bar scene—I approve of your decision—you can still appreciate the atmosphere of the hotel.  Each room has a name; mine was the Anthony Hopkins Suite.  And each room, as well as the entire hotel, the entrance especially, will transport you back in time to about the 1920’s.  Modern amenities are also included, too, so you can pretend to be in the early 20^th century and still want for nothing.  Hotel Monte Vista is not overly comfortable, but if you’re checking out the attractions then you’ll be too tired to notice.

The city of Flagstaff is also rather cool.  I think that I could live here forever.  It’s certainly one of those cities built for artists that don’t like the bigger cities of New York, Boston, D.C., or L.A.  I count myself among those artists.  (My girlfriend would like to hear that Burlington, Vermont is another one of those small cities built for artists).  You can’t possibly look out any window of any building and not see something beautiful.  Plus, there’s lots of culture, lots of history, and an incredible amount of day-trips that one can take.  Some pretty sweet street art adorns the city as well.  It’s a college town, so you’ll see a lot of young people flaring up city-life, and also some fairly wealthy folk.  Since it’s so darn cheap to live here I don’t know why anyone who has any sort of small fortune who visits Flagstaff would ever leave.

I rented a car from Hertz, located in the Amtrak train station; when I walked in the service representative was being harangued for something out of her control.  It was then up to me to put a smile on her face.  Besides, she was quite helpful.  Why anyone would be angry with her, I don’t know.  The moral here is to be nice to people.

Also, you can’t go wrong dining out in downtown Flagstaff.  I didn’t wander out of historic downtown, mostly because there are numerous tempting restaurants.  I ate at San Felipe’s Cantina which serves the best salsa I’ve ever had; I also ate a couple of times at Mountain Oasis.  The waiters there seem to be all college students, which, for a person like me who enjoys supporting students, is nice.  It’s one of those international restaurants that offer menu items from a whole variety of cultures.  I had an Italian and a Greek meal, and both were fantastic.

All in all, Flagstaff rocks.

Grand Canyon and Painted Desert

Okay, folks, the reason why I came to Flagstaff is to see the Grand Canyon.  That much should be obvious.  Two years ago I thought that I’d see it on the way back from my bike trip across the country, but, as many of you know, that trip had to be cut short by five days.  Those five days proved fateful because I was then unable to penetrate Arizona and thus unable to see the canyon on my return trip.  Plus, the reason why the trip had to be shortened was that my friend who had been driving the support vehicle for me had been hospitalized with heat stroke and dehydration, so it would have been rather cruel to coerce him to the canyon with me.  Now that I’ve seen the canyon, though, I can’t put words to it.

During my trip the Grand Canyon I was able to take a helicopter ride over and in the canyon as well as drive through the Painted Desert to then walk down in Lower Antelope Canyon at the head of the Grand Canyon.  The Grand Canyon, Antelope Canyon, and the Painted Desert are all beyond description.  Seriously.  For that very reason, if you are a writer or an artist of any kind and you are not moved in some way by any of these Arizona landmarks, then you are a strange one, indeed.  Next to these landmarks you cannot help but feel insignificant, possessing inferior talent to that of Nature.  But I think that the form of despair one feels knowing that we can never match the creativity and talent of Nature allows one to feel more free.  The best possible works of art have already been painted or sculptured.  We can therefore let go of the desire to do the best, which then relieves our mind and pen of insurmountable pressure; the weaker the gravity, the higher we can jump.

Of course, we usually think of the Grand Canyon and such as artistically inspiring.  The sights I’ve seen have been inspiring in that way, and for that I am thankful. 

The Grand Canyon was also inspiring in the sense of “finding myself.”  I hate that phrase.  I hate blogging.  But someone keeps telling me to do it.  Up to the moment that I first saw the canyon I had fought against thinking of this trip as a “vision quest” or whatever.  I have always believed that God is the answer to everything so that if anyone ever feels lost or empty they need not move an inch.  Still, when I saw the grandness of the Grand Canyon I realized that I have been lost.  For quite a while have I been lost.  I suddenly realized this because seeing the Grand Canyon, even the helicopter ride, was extremely disappointing.  At that time it was obviously an amazing sight but it didn’t seem at all special to me.  I realized that I needed to return home, to return to God; and to stop running away from who I want to be, who I am, just like Ed urged me to. 

The next day, driving through the Painted Desert and walking through Antelope Canyon, was a far more delightful day.  Maybe I just prefer the brilliance of these landmarks over the Grand Canyon, but I am quite certain that the reflection and prayer and new resolve of the previous day had a lot do with the better experience.  It certainly helps, too, that I’ve been reading Kierkegaard’s masterpiece Either/Or.  Now what most matters is whether or not I can stay true to my new determination and plough through with my writing regardless of how difficult it may seem to publish the way that I want to.

If anyone is thinking of visiting the Arizona sights I highly recommend staying in Flagstaff as I did.  I’m sure there are other good options, but Flagstaff seems to be central to just about everything.  Flagstaff is also home to the Discover Canyon Store, whose staff is incredibly nice, helpful, and enjoyable.  They organized my trip to the Grand Canyon, gave me and eleven others a ride to South Rim sites, and provided one of the most personable guides I’ve ever met, Dave. 

Final note: In Page, Arizona, near Antelope Canyon, I ate at a place called Zapatas.  My waiter was a young man.  He was so great to talk to and helpful that I have to mention the restaurant.