Moments of Doubt Or “Did I read that sign wrong?”

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Aging Writer, Distractions, Do…or Do not. There is no try, Dreams, Finish, March of Time, Never Give Up, Never Giving Up, Overcoming Obstacles, Struggles, Struggling Writer, Survival Pod, Survival Pod Publishing, Surviving Life, Writing, Yoda

One more down. With four tales left, the finish line is right there.

Why do I feel like I have wasted two years of my life.

Note: This feeling is not unusual. With the exception of my kid, most of the time I feel like I have wasted a great deal of life’s joy.

Today’s anxiety is normal in my universe. It is a dark wicked place inhabited by mysterious old age pains, annoyingly habitual communication issues, and the constant companion of self-loathing. (Which looks quite like a Dementor, if you are wondering. Damn you J.K. Rowlings!!!)

Image Source:
http://skreened.com/

Having descended from a clan of worrisome and more than slightly neurotic ancestors, I am well trained in the art of screw yourself a.k.a masochistic mental masturbation. My whole life having been an exercise in crisis management; I should be, in theory, used to this.

I truly do know these moments are transitory. It’s as certain as science.

Why, then, does today make me feel like I’m Captain Quint from Jaws? Struggling mightily, thrashing about in Bruce’s robotic grip moments before becoming a piece of human sushi?

Is it the paranoia over my rapidly declining health and lack of resources to take care of it?

Could it be the widening chasm between myself and the vast world around me? Knowing it still exists and yet unable to find a way to participate comfortably?

You know what’s a better question? Why now?

Why now, when I’m so close to completing my greatest life-goal, am I letting the ordinary issues of life overwhelm me so entirely?

It is because I am a writer.

Life is a universe of distraction, the key is knowing how to block it out at the right moments. Without that, there is no way to ever do anything worthwhile in the world.

My problem is, recently, I seem to have misplaced that key. Life’s issues are distracting me and I’m where I am at right now as a direct result. So creatively, because I let the neurotic monster out of its box, I suffer.

Example: The longer I work on the final edit for these stories, the more my faith in them wanes.

While prepping the final PDF documents for KDP and CreateSpace over the last few days, I keep catching glimpses of work that rankles my creative vibe. Work that has been gone over with a magnifying glass, held not just by my hands but those of a professional copy editor, and I’m still not happy with the final product.

I had hoped by this point in the process, I would have come to some middle ground with my self doubt. Alas, that seems to have been too much to hope for but I’ve gone too far to turn back and abandon it now.

Real cash has been invested into this project. Endless hours lost to isolation. Dedication to an idea only I can see. Suffering endless mutterings and innuendo of how I have “given up on life” or “how I refuse to face the world.”

The word AGORAPHOBIC has been banned from my house.

Some days I want to go to the top of the Wells Fargo Tower and scream, “Don’t you think I wanted to do something else?! Have some form of ordinary life?! Would anyone go through this if they had any other choice?!“

I’m reminded of Bukowski’s poem, “So You Want To Be A Writer“:

“If it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it. Unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it.”

“Unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don’t do it. unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don’t do it.”

Almost two years of my life are just gone.

I’m broke, downtrodden, and in large part, a forgotten figure in everyone’s life but my daughter. This has been a hard row to hoe, and yet I have made it through.

Through the lonely frozen nights, I have sailed across a sea of missed moments. A laundry list of life’s lost luxuries runs like a stock ticker in my head, keeping track  of everything sacrificed to make it to this moment.

This one vainglorious instant when all the work suddenly means something.

There are but minutes left before t-minus zero on the clock to drop this bomb on the world. So, it would make sense that serious self-doubt would resurfaces now.

What if the reason no one ever talks to me about my work is because it really is shit?

What if all these years I have been fooling myself with a pipe-dream that never had any real chance of succeeding because I don’t have the chops?

What if that scholarly old professor who dressed me down in front of his class at the University of Cincinnati so long ago, was right?

What if I’m not destined to be a real writer?

Back story break…Cue out of focus flashback:

When I was twelve years old, right after my parents marriage ended one oddly quiet and slightly confusing, warm Texas morning; I had this terrifying dream that has haunted me my whole life.

A self-fulfilling prophecy, if you will.

In the sub-conscious reaches of my pubescent mind, I watched lonely and lost as all my friends went off; each familiar face abandoning me to happily go live their lives. It was only a dream but the loss was so palpable when I awoke that I have never forgotten it.

Flash forward to today: I look at my life and I realize that is exactly what happened.  Most of the people I have known and called friends in this world have gone on to success in their lives. Financial, emotional, spiritual; it all varies from person to person.

Not all of them are happy, mind you. Mostly because completely understanding or fully realizing what we have and enjoying it is a natural human flaw. But deep down, most of them realize they are on the right path.

Not me. I still feel lost everyday.

I continue to struggle down a path that was handed down to me as a child. Still reaching for a goal that has always seemed beyond my reach.

I am and have always been a writer. It is in my blood. Those ancestors I spoke of before, they were and are writers. Failed writers.

Example: My Grandmother Jean  along time ago gave me a hand illustrated book she created for me and my sister named “Mystery Island”. Who knows how long it took her to create it, who cares? She was an intensily creative person and sometimes she created things just because she could.

And yet “Mystery Island” with all its glorious map pencil colored drawings and pre-teen exploits were never destined for anywhere but my hands and you know why?

Because she didn’t believe in herself enough to commit the time and effort it would take for her to become a success in a craft she obviously had skill at. Life would not let her.

Husband dead. Two kids left to raise. Three other adult kids to worry about. Property taxes due on a house about to fall down around her… The world of literary repute was just beyond her fingertips. Why? Because she could shut life out long enough to just believe in herself.

That didn’t mean she stopped writing.

Seeing her write is one of the truly wonderful memories I have of her. Sitting in that little kitchen, sipping a half empty cold cup of coffee, scribbling away on her endless supply of spiral bound notebooks.

And what happened to all those notebooks when she died? Nothing.

Passed on to another generation of writers that life has already shut the door on their hopes and dreams. They lie dusty in a box, never to see the light of day.

I refuse to let that happen to me.

Thankfully for the internet and this blog, I know that at least some people see the words I write (even if they only come to snag one of the many images I pilfer from the net to accentuate my points).

This is not enough for me.

I made the leap of faith. Everything in my life has been tossed on the pyre to make this work: friends, family, health, money. Nothing has been safe in my quest for this golden grail of publication.

So again I ask, why now?

Why do I have to look at what I have created, at this late stage and go, “This is shite…”

Is there something else I just don’t know? Has my whole life been a conspiracy of friends and family telling me what I want to hear just to protect my feelings. Or am I in the midst of pre-release jitters accentuated by a neurotic need to leave some form of real legacy? Probably a little of both.

Is it going to stop me?

No and now you know why.

I am a writer. I can’t do anything else.

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Whoa-Whoa, It’s Magic….or “Where do your ideas come from?”

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Distractions, Do…or Do not. There is no try, Dreams, Finish, Never Give Up, Overcoming Obstacles, Perseverance, Planning out a novel, Publishing, Struggles, Struggling Writer, Success, Survival Pod, Survival Pod Publishing, Writing, Writing Method, Yoda

This is a softball/cotton candy kinda post.

In all honesty, my resources are stretched so thin at this point, I really don’t have much else to spare but thoughts as thin as lightly floating wisps of super-heated pink sugar. So please forgive the lameness of this post.

Image Source:
http://blogs.commercialappeal.com/whining_dining/

Sitting in my chilly living room this morning, I indulged in one of my MANY vices, watching terrible movies instead of working. On the television: Timeline starring Paul Walker and Billy Connolly. Opposite my television, on the computer monitor: a certain story that has been the bane of my existence for nearly two years now.

Image Source:
Timeline
Paramount Pictures 2003

It is not the quality or depth of this particular Richard Donner/Michael Crichton movie that keeping me from working. No, nothing that simple.

Okay, I’ll admit it. I was ignoring my computer…..

The final edit I am working on is a particular story that has been the hardest of all the twelve tales in Survival Pod #1 & 2 to work on. It is one of the few times I honestly don’t see the vision my editor has in mind with her corrective notes. So I found it easy to get lost in the movie instead of working.

I have full faith in my editor and her skills. I agree with her totally, the story is missing something. However, the direction she advised has proven problematic for several reason, one of which is I have never written a story with these type of undertones and emotions in it.

Not being one to back down from a challenge, as far as my writing goes, I refuse to give up despite the magnitude of this Sisyphean mental challenge. So again, its time to “Switch the Flip! or Get The Pig!”.

Image Source: http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/marvin-boggs

While my mind figures out how to do this, I decided to answer a question I get on a pretty regular basis, “How do you come up with your story ideas?” with today’s blog post.

Image Source: http://www.sitcomsonline.com

I have heard many an author answer this question and I don’t think I have ever heard a response I was satisfied with. Knowing that piece of knowledge does not set the bar very high for this post, does it?

Regardless, I will try to explain my process as best I can.

Most of the time, ideas come about organically.

Image Source:
Encyclopedia Brittanica 2006

Someone around me will say something or I will read an interesting article that takes seed in my mind and grows into something. Sometimes movies or music will lend inspiration, causing me to move on an idea or thought process that was already hidden inside but didn’t have the momentum to take hold. These are generic processes that everyone has the ability to do and you as a writer should be very familiar with.

The creative magic happens after the seed has taken root. When one starts to tear apart the who, what, where, when, and why of an idea. It is in the resulting mess that hopefully a story will appear.

One of the ways I do this is by taking things out of context and putting them where they don’t belong.

Take this morning as an example:

While watching Timeline I started thinking about roving armies circa. The Hundred Years Wars. Vast peasant armies, forced into services by their lords, spreading across the French countryside rampaging and pillaging.

From there I start to wonder what it would be like if that were to happen today. Literally, a planet Earth where warlords march across modern countries like America. Would it be a modern civilization that never broke from feudalism and still accepted the rules of medieval combat tactics?

Image Source:
Timeline
Paramount Pictures 2003

What would the world be like if the Magna Carte had never been written or signed? How does one survive in an America that never knew modern democracy, fed instead by blood borne of the brutal yoke from a feudalistic system of government?

Why would the Duke of Georgia march his armies across the south, razing every town in his path? What would Detroit look like if it were under siege for years, like a combat action during the Crusades? Would a peasant from New York give a hoot about the shadow of court in Washington as long as his lord didn’t call for his service in the fields of war?

See what I mean?

The details don’t matter at the starting point, that moment when the idea sparks to life. Once the ball starts rolling, details like: characters, story arcs, plot twists, will all come naturally as the process roars to life. Once you really start to think about an idea, in this case by taking something out if its ordinary environment and placing it into a situation that seems completely alien, a great story can quite literally appear out of your head.

(Not that I’m saying any story about medieval armies marching across the American South is on the hit list for Survival Pod Issues #3 or 4)

By exploring changes in perspective, context, or environment and not just the who, what, when, where, how, and why of an idea during the initial creation stages, a writer can discover a multitude of fruitful paths to wander down when brainstorming.

Remember: the story is already in your head, sometimes to bring it to life you just need to “Switch the Flip!”

The seed can come from anywhere, the key is giving it the right environment to grow in. Imagination, an open mind, and persistence is the best fertilizer for a story to grow in.

In mathematical terms that would be: A glimmer of interest + bullshit + hard work = a story.

What you do with the story after that is up to you.

Camptown Ladies Sing this Song Do-Dar, Do-Dar….or “I’m in it deep now.”

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Aging Writer, Believe, Do…or Do not. There is no try, Finish, Learning, Never Give Up, Overcoming Obstacles, Perseverance, Publishing, Struggling Writer, Survival Pod, Survival Pod Publishing, Talent, Writing, Yoda

With the birth of bright, beautiful new year, I’m saying it.

I’m not feeling the New Year buzz.

Boris Artzybasheff
1899-1965

In fact I feel mired down in a crisis my own indecision helped to create.

Having been working on Survival Pod Issues One and Two for a year now, I have to admit my determination has been challenged over the holidays. My inability to get the Kickstarter project started on time really has had an echoing affect on my progress to date. Release dates have been pushed back, the final edits weren’t complete until after Christmas, and now with the new release date barrelling down on me like a freight train….well you get the picture right?

Choo-Choo bitches….

Add on the fact that winter sucks every last particle of positive energy out of me just so I can make it through the short, dark days and frigid nights; generally I’m left sitting in front of my keyboard, dreaming about new stories and not really getting much else done.

Of the twelve stories in the collection, three are completely finished and waiting for a final read by my official test subject. A fourth story is about two thirds of the way through the re-write but that leaves eight stories to work on post-edit, get the final read in, format, illustrate, and submit for release at Amazon and Smashwords in Fifteen days.

The mounting work load from the final edit has levied a permanent concrete collar of tense muscles at the base of my neck along with many sleepless night and an almost perpetual headache for my troubles. Quicksand would be kinder…

Image Source: Warner Bros.
“Blazing Saddles” 1974

Now given that I am an Apgar, who are notorious for our ability to stay in a fight way too long, I have still not resigned myself to the idea of having to push the release date back again. So I keep on chugging through, hoping I’ll hit a wellspring of energy and creativity that will carry me through the next two weeks and on through the finish line.

Word of advice for the aspiring writer in this “new media” age. I have been in the writing game for a long time, the majority of my adult life, trying to find my way in the door; sometimes in the most obscure of ways. I truly believe the birth of this new path on the road of communication and creativity will lead to a new golden age of writing….but don’t fool yourself.

This “new” path to publishing is just as full of hazards and pitfalls as the one that swept so many other writers under the rug for thousands of years. The three essential truths are still the same: If you don’t put in the time, it will fail. If you rush it, it will fail. If it is bad, it will fail.

In the words of the immortal WHO: “Meet the new boss, Same as the old boss….”

The boss is the people you are selling it to.

Yes, it’s easier now to get your stuff out to the public but guess what? If you didn’t put the time in, grind through round after round of editing, and actually have some form of talent; you stories have the same lifespan as that of a Pete Townesend guitar circa. 1968, a.k.a. NONE.

I’ve been down that road, not listening to editors, wasting one’s time releasing before its ready, confusing ambition with talent.

Never again.

Even if I have to grind till there is nothing left but me and the wheel, I will never make that mistake again.

Image Source: http://www.100words.ca

Turn The Tiller South Master Chief…or “Things are getting depressing ’round here.”

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Aging Writer, Believe, Do…or Do not. There is no try, Dreams, March of Time, middle age, Never Giving Up, Overcoming Obstacles, Perseverance, Struggles, Struggling Writer, Success, Yoda

You can always tell when I’m in a funk…The music in the background will always tell you exactly where I’m at.

It’s in the quiet afternoon, when all the drama and insanity that is my life is replaced by sleeping cats, comforting sunbeams, and peaceful consoling moments, that you can hear my inner voice call out in other people’s words set to music. My life is truly at the whim of my emotions sometimes and can be easily transformed into a razor sharp pit of emotional bloodletting by just the right song or phrase.

It’s these days, when depression wins the fight over reason and the gentle lullaby of Mazzy Star or the drumming march of Mumford and Sons can force even the best hidden pain back out into the spotlight, that I find the hardest to overcome as age takes it toll.

This post is not for everyone; although by now I think most people are touched in some way by those who suffers from depression. No, this is for those out there that with ink in their veins; sitting silently or screaming madly at the walls, as you suffer much in the same way I do.

It doesn’t matter the cause or severity, if at some point in your life you’ve felt the bottom drop out, then you have been there. Thinking back on it, when it was at its worst, you know how hard it can be just to sit down in your chair to work at the center of that storm.

That’s where I’m at today.

There are a million reasons and none. All of which means absolutely nothing in the long term because knowing the “why” doesn’t change where you are at. It’s only the scrambling free from the pit that matters when you are looking up at the lip of the hole. Or it used to be…

My depression reminds me of the classic Twilight Zone episode “Five Characters in Search of an Exit“; in which an army office wakes to find himself trapped in a cylinder with a clown, a ballerina, a Highlander, and a hobo. Some have been trapped at the bottom for so long that they cannot get behind the energy and fervent manner in which the “Major” tries desperately to escape their fate.

I’m one of those characters; probably the hobo, and today I feel as if I have been at the bottom of the can for so long, that there doesn’t seem to be a point in trying to escape.

I know this; like everything else, is transitory and hopefully tomorrow a new set of challenges, adventures, and experiences will take hold of me so I can set my sights on the horizon.

But today I’m at the bottom of the can.

So take care of yourselves this Thanksgiving week loyal readers, love one another, and be thankful you still have the energy to try and escape. Go chase your adventures!

Til’ next week!

And The Cycle Starts Anew or “This Crazy Planet Just Keeps on Spinnin’…”

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Believe, Distractions, Do…or Do not. There is no try, Dreams, Finish, Learning, March of Time, Never Give Up, Overcoming Obstacles, Perseverance, Planning out a novel, Publishing, Read As A Writer Write Like A Reader, Struggling Writer, Success, Survival Pod, Survival Pod Publishing, Talent, Writing, Writing Method, Yoda

It’s November.

Time of the great Nanowrimo challenge (which I unfortunately do not have time to participate in this year but still wholeheartedly support), snow in Minneapolis, and pumpkin pie. It is fitting that this time of change be the moment I walk away from Survival Pod Issues One & Two; leaving them securely in the care of a skilled and fair editor to do her magic on.

In some cases, the stories in these books have been edited and re-written five or more times before hitting her desk, so I believe in the final quality of my work. A year’s worth of tension dynamically released from my body as I handed off my work, exchanged signatures on the contract and passed over a check to pay for editorial services.

It wasn’t until I was on my way home, that the inner critic woke up; screaming deep from my sub-conscious mind, its animalistic tone echoing through the darkest corridors of my brain, “Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Image: “The Werewolf of Washington” Diplomat Pictures 1973

Having now had over twenty hours of rest and reflection, I have banished the inner critic back to his dungeon and am prepared to move on. I find that the distraction from the website, blog, and twitter accounts are still a bit overwhelming at times but nothing I can’t handle.

I finally feel like I can get back to creating. Not just doing stuff to push the books or the website, but actual writing.

Image source: George Hodan

I’m energized to be able to concentrate on new stories. Having had a lot of time over the last three months; since starting the process of financing and editing Issues 1 & 2, to think about where I want to take the next two books, I don’t foresee any changes in the basic format.

Short stories are definitely where I’m the most creative.

It’s the content I want to mix up with the next two books. I want to be more imaginative, stretch my creative legs and take on new challenges. is there a fantasy tale in there? Espionage? A thriller or cheese ball horror story?

I have no idea. There are some candidates but no fixed or firm outline of the stories to tell. This will happen naturally; just like the first two books, and when they are done, I will turn the page.

Theoretical Upcoming Projects:

Image Source: Junior Libby

Possible podcasting opportunities…

Maybe revisit the idea of Graphic Novels and or a short film adaptations (nothing big, perhaps some local stuff with the local arts community here in the T.C.)

Survival Pod: Transmissions from the Void will be opening for Submissions in the Fall of 2013. This will be my first editorial work of note, as I will only contribute one of the twelve stories destined for its pages.

Minnesota writers keep an eye on Survivalpod.com for the exact opening date, special interest will be paid to local writers. There are too many local artists going unrecognized. That deserve a shot just as much as anyone else, so I’m gonna do just that.

Well that’s enough for today…From my snow sprinkled home here in Minneapolis; the Heartbeat of the Midwest, I bid you good day!

I’m off to a night of table-top gaming with the family, high on the hope of not coming in last! We will see how long it takes to kill that : )

Oh and don’t forget!

Even if you have already given to Hurricane Sandy relief efforts, dig a little deeper so we can help these poor people before the winter truly sets in on them.

Give to the American Red Cross Today!