Uncategorized

As I write this I am coming down from a 24 hr caffeine high. I was on the road for 12 hrs a day doing nothign but driving, scribbling notes, and listening to audio books–all of this in a caffeinated haze with no food. There were niblets, ofc rouse, but nothing thart would constitue a meal. Food isn’t the issue. This is a blog about the value of spednign time by yourself.

I spent the day on the road. 12+ hours of driving through the midwest trying to reach home. I left around 9 AM and finally pulled in for the night at 11 at a Motel 6 that, even by the standards of the workers, was ridiculously crowded. My first job was to settle in and relax. I flipped through HBO to Picasso Baby, Jay-Z’s strange attempt to merge rap with modern performance art. It felt pretentious–especially when he connected with a woman who I recognized as an actual performance artist. I later learned there were several artists and actors and art dealers and rappers and musicians in attendance who all seemed to feel that this moment he created had intense meaning. I suppose these learned individuals would be better judges than I in the general sense, but to ask me as an individual, this was cool and exciting, but it did not take rap to any higher level of art form–no matter if Wale and Fab 5 Freddy are there to bridge the history and culture of the medium or not.

I took off my Jawbone Up to take a shower and settled it into the charger. What I didn’t do was take it with me when I left for the airport. Now a feel like a man who just left his kid at the mall. In what felt like a week the Up became an integral part of my daily routine. I came to rely on the on the familiar buzz of inactivity every 15 minutes I sat idle. I’d even grown to believe the buzz could be of service to me on this roadtrip, prodding me to stay awake as day passed into night and the hours of mid-America highway travel grew tedious. No such luck it seems. We grow to rely on these things we carry. As one author once wrote, they come to define us, creating meaning, symbolism, even separation in our lives.

I’ve been thinking and reading a lot about the Eagles and Chip Kelly, primarily to help jumpstart my 8-9yr old Jets Flag offense (My kid decided to go big green today). As I was reading today I discovered this link. Ruh Roh, Rorge. Riley Cooper, a talented and dedicated wideout has officially dunked his foot in his mouth. To his credit we have no idea of the context. From what this link says, and from his speech at that link, he may have been referring to an African American security guard that wouldn’t let him backstage.

Riley, you play in the NFL. Do you know what that stands for? Seriously though, he ought to be grateful to the once and powerful Paula Deen for falling on the racial sword not too long ago. He may be able to survive this. I don’t know how to take it, and I don’t know that I am someone who should have a role in ‘taking it’. I’ll say it again: Freedom of Speech is a zero-sum game. If someone wants to make an offensive comment–no matter the context–they have a right to do so. As an employee of a visible and highly recognized organization, they should recognize that despite this freedom, people also have the right to hate on you the moment you unclench your jaw.

Here’s what I think of Riley Cooper: He is a pure athlete who was drafted as a baseball player out of high school and could start at wideout on a dozen or more teams in the league. He is a tough guy with a knack for getting open and making tough catches. He isn’t a 16 game guy, but he’ll give you a solid 9 or 10. I don’t care about the rest as a fan, because he isn’t the kind of racist person that goes around trying to defame an entire people. He ain’t no Nugent.

The most frightening thing for many writers is the blank page. The more I say this in class, the more writers disagree with me, until, that is, they are asked to go back to their stories after receiving concrete criticism. Once doubt enters your mind, the blank page becomes a jungle, a hellscape, a terrible enemy to face down in the dark. The only way to beat back the demon is to face it head on. The only way to conquer the blank page is to write down everything that is presently in your mind and force your mind to reach for more. When you run out of words to write you have two choices: Quit or go find some more inspiration to fill it. You’d be surprised how many writers choose to quit.

Some Thoughts:

1. Florida ought to consider a new motto. Perhaps something like, Florida: The Only Thing More Plentiful Than Our Cockroaches Are The Number Of Unarmed Black Folks Shot Per Year.
2. Baseball is a statistically amazing game. I’m looking forward to seeing my middle kid getting back into it.
3. I’m looking forward to watching all three race up and down the pitch every saturday for soccer.
4. Most of all, I’m looking forward to them going back to school and me getting back to some serious writing. Them stories are a brewin.
5. I’ll blog about the whole Up situation soon, but short form: Up works. I love it and it helps me to recognize where my weaknesses are and how to focus to correct them.

A friend from college is putting together a blog on the value of writing spaces. It made me think about the work I did to paint the creativity (accent) wall and the value of that as well as my space. Just the indication he’d be writing a post reminded me that my work is not done yet. In fact, I need to seriously sweeten the pot in there in order to make that place into my sanctuary. Writers need a retreat. We need a place that belongs to us and houses the mania that would otherwise reside in our heads. We need a place that inspires and separates us from the real world by connecting us to a world that is utterly and completely enchanting.

I suppose where I failed in my space creation (and thusly as a writer) is by staying within the lines in my creations. Kurt Vonnegut said, “You cannot be a good writer of serious fiction if you are not depressed.” I am not depressed, and given that I am not the depressive type, writing serious fiction requires a space that invokes all styles and levels of emotion.

Some Thoughts:

1. The Wolverine is filled with terribly written characters and acting more suited to Sunday mornings on Disney XD. Still, I enjoyed the heck out of it. I especially appreciated the bit after the credits.
2. Vince Vaughn is done. His brief and reputable moment in the spotlight was enjoyable, but he isn’t the type to be able to lead a movie–especially a stupid one.

Not a whole lot left in the tank tonight. I am trying my darndest to just stay awake and hack out the last few keystrokes. A lot of stuff going on this week and it serves as the perfect reamp up to the start of the school year. I’d be more excited, but I’m too tired.

Taylor Swift is hot. At least she’s supposed to be. The current qualifications for that distinction are tall and blonde. Ample breasts are desired but not required. When I ask students what is beauty they tend to fall upon the sword of literature, taking up fanciful and often philosophical verse in order to exclaim how much someone who just makes them laugh is what they want. The guys are especially false, claiming how much they care about personality. It is all script, written long ago by people who didn’t even possess formal language. These customs and rituals are ancient. We laud a physical ideal amongst our own gender but in mixed company strive to maintain a sense of being above all that.

I’m not really above all that. I think Taylor Swift is a unappealing beanpole who had a good album once upon a time before L’oreal got a hold of her. American beauty at least is a product arms race. You are beautiful so long as you wear the right clothes, makeup, and shoes. So long as you get the proper haircut and do all of the rituals you must to your teeth and skin, anyone can have beauty. Natural beauty has been reduced to actually owning the breasts you were born with.

I applaud Dove (once again) for trying to swim against the tide. I frown at Wendy’s (once again) for diving headlong into the water and hiding a woman who is actually pretty (though for all I know that could also be product inspired pretty) only to replace her with a skinnier more ‘universally appealing’ version of herself.

Outer beauty is an important thing in the world. I’d just like to know what it actually is for people before the media tells them what it is.

What would you do if you only had five days with your kids; if on the sixth day their lives changed in a way that made their focus less about spending time with you and more about education and all of its trappings. I want to live these last days in a way that carves memories into their minds. I want the mantra of school year 2013-14 to be, “remember that time when we… I wonder what we’re going to do next break.”

So, what would you do? What are good memories made of? Is it simple time with family? Is it adventure? Is it holding hands as we go into the theater, reaching out your hand for the popcorn discount card and striding up to the register to buy something all by yourself? Is it bowling? Is it splashing around in the pool and seeing who can hold their breath the longest? Maybe it is the big things–wondering at the majesty of sea life, the sharp turns of a go cart edging towards the finish line, Legoland. I suppose it is different for each kid; each age. Making all three happy seems an impossibility.

So what can I do? I can give them my hours. I can segment a time of day where it is about me and the work I need to get done and allocate the rest to the children. I can listen. I can ask them what makes them happy and find a way to get as close to that as possible. It is what I should do. At least, that’s what the manual said.

Well, its out.

The Shadowrun Returns game dropped today alongside the SRR Anthology. I’ve seen the reviews on the game, which are positive, and I am holding my breath for the story reviews. Honestly, I can do better. I felt I delivered two good stories, but I feel my best work is still ahead of me. In the meanwhile I’ve been playing the game, reminiscing about the original, and building up a sense of wonder about the creative process. Wonder is key to everything creative. Cynics are rarely creators. When you live so much of your life doubting, you find little time to wonder. From the looks of it, the reviewers are largely creators and are raving about the ability to build on the JW’s platform.

The SR Returns game consists of a main game and an editor that allows you to create your own missions, goals, and dialogue trees. The modability of the thing is tantamount to its success. There will always be runners and there will always be GM’s who want to express their creativity in-game. I’m excited to live on both sides of that line.

Now, where are the fiction reviews?!