A few days ago, I published the final post in my blog, Always Off Book. I had only posted on the blog three times this year, but it has been officially active for 13 years.
That’s a long time for me to do anything, not to mention a long time to keep anything alive on the internet that isn’t somehow subsidized or sponsored by a third party.
It was bittersweet, I won’t deny it. Sure, with one single exception in all of that time my posts about acting and community theatre made somewhere around zero impact on the world. Regular readership with low to non-existent. Engagement there (much like here…) was rare. I posted less detailed thoughts as the years went on.
Still, whenever I found myself in a production, I would keep those I called my “loyal blog readers” in the loop with my experiences and observations. Some years I was in more shows than others, and hence built-in content would ebb and flow, but there hasn’t been a year since the blog’s inception wherein I posted nothing.
It will be odd to be in my next show and not think about what to post there after any given night.
The very same night I signed off on that blog, I went to Amazon to make a purchase. (About which I had done my research.) It is supposed to arrive tomorrow.
What did I purchase? The first basic equipment needed to podcast. The old closing a door, opening a window dance. Or in this case, potentially closing a window and opening a door.
I will continue the thoughts and conversation about community theatre by way of this podcast. It will involve discussions with other local community theatre participants, sometimes one on one and at other times as a panel. They don’t know it yet, but I’ll be asking a lot of people to take part in it around here.
I’ve already got a good name for this podcast picked out, though you can probably guess what it is.
The title will also belong, in all likelihood, to my first non-fiction book I will publish late next year, wherein I share advice and thoughts about the world of stage acting for (not) a living.
Both projects are new territory for me. By no means will they replace my status as a novelist. In fact, I hope that both will enhance my both my novelist and actor tendencies. Along the way, of course I hope I will engage with people, and make a positive impact on their lives and minds. This time around, I hope to accomplish what the labor of love that Always Off Book was could not.
And if I do not? I will be disappointed. I will be discouraged and I will wonder what it is all for. Again. But I haven’t failed yet. I’ve only just now begun to embrace these new projects and approaches. The future of them are still rich with potential.
Yet like all of my previous (and there are many) failed creative attempts to make a difference to people, I hope that a podcast and a non-fiction book, if less than successful, will in the very least add on to my list of things worth attempting.
I’ve been asked to participate in a blog hop for DC area writers and authors. They want us to mention how the Washington, D.C are inspires our writing.
None of my novels have taken place in the District itself, thus far. Yet to be this close to the nation’s capital does affect the process of my writing in numerous ways.
Perhaps the most specific way, (though certainly not limited to this area) is the Constitutional right to compose writing on any topic and theme that I wish. I am literally about an hour away from the document itself, you know. I’ve seen it. (Briefly. They like to keep the line moving quickly at the Archives.) And of course laws for everyone are passed there…just down the proverbial highway from me.
To write well is to not put constraints on one’s vision. It is easy to forget when one is a writer in safe place to create art that there are places on the earth wherein writers can and have been put in jail for what they have written. It’s not limited to news, either. Plenty of novelists and poets have ended up behind bars in countries that viewed their work as subversive to the regime.
These rights apply of course to the entire country, not just my area. Still, I never quite get over the fact that the literal guarantee, signed by the Founders is for me, as compared to most others, quite local indeed.
Thanks for reading! To return to the #ReadLocalDC Blog Hop on Ellen Smith’s website, click here: http://bit.ly/readlocaldc
So, way back when I was a brand new self-publisher, my labor of love and first (made public) novel, Flowers of Dionysus was made available for purchase in most ebook stores. As I was new to the process, I didn’t take the novel to paperback, beyond an experimental copy I creating for myself.
Several books and two novels later, both of which are available in paperback, I am happy to announce that I will be correcting this void in my list of works. I Have begun the process of bringing back my debut novel, this time in paperback form for the general public.
The e-version, at least on Kindle, will likely remain unaffected by this choice, for those who never got around to buying a copy of same. But as for the paperback, I’ll be shopping around for new cover art, adding some front/back matter, and just in general providing an affordable, enjoyable paperback reading experience available to readers of my other novels.
It takes a while sometimes, for a wheel to spin full circle. Now that it almost has, I hope those of you who prefer paper copies of my work will consider going back to the beginning, as it were, and purchasing a copy of Flowers of Dionysus for yourself, when the time comes.
I have no launch day yet, but I want it to be no later than the fall. (Now that it looks like my current work in progress will require a lot more work for a lot more progress than initially expected.)
I’m looking forward to making what is old new again.
I have been a part-time journalist in the past, and I still write human interest and arts-related content for a local magazine.
Yet I have never done much of what one might call “hard journalism.” That is to say factual, researched, or service to the public good and record. I’m capable, but I think in most cases, that sort of writing is best left to those who love doing it.
We need that kind of writing now more than ever.
What of my writing, though? These posts, my observational essays? My fiction?
With the darkening cloud of authoritarianism from Trump, and the bigotry, hatred, and destruction of democratic norms that comes along with that, I’ve been forced to wonder at times if I’m making a true contribution to the light.
The common answer to such inquiries goes something like this:
“Fiction, and other forms of thought provoking, subjective writing provides many people with solace, escape, hope, and empathy. Composing stories that encourage people when little else is encouraging is a valuable contribution to society. That’s true of all of the arts.”
Yes. Okay. I have no argument against that in concept. I certainly would not want stories and art to go away. (Though there are those who try like hell to rid us of them.)
I face several difficulties, however, when I attempt to assimilate this line of thinking into my own life.
-I’m uncertain if there is a point beyond which this ceases to apply to this degree.
-I fear that delving into the production of fiction insulates at times, even if it is unintentional. We need engagement, not more barriers to reality.
-Is writing a good mystery, or an exciting suspense yarn, or immersive fantasy on the same level of justification these days as thick-themed, rebellious, deep-prose literature? The latter has served a social purpose for ages. The former examples?
-Most personally, I myself reach, and hence effect virtually nobody. That is to say even if one were to conclude that writing fiction, all fiction is a service to society in these days of creeping fascism and ultra-nationalism, one would have to assume that said fiction is being read widely in said society, wouldn’t one? My fiction is not widely read thus far. In fact, depending on your metric, my fiction is infrequently read.
It’s true. I’m trying not to sound like this is all about me. Yet for the time being, the truth cannot be denied; whether because of marketing, or content, or dumb luck, I’ve not found a consistent audience for my work beyond a handful of people who know me.
It’s one thing to spend the time, energy, thought and life force on a novel that at least a small audience will most likely enjoy. One can say to oneself as a writer, “I’m at least reaching those people. I made a difference in their day, distracting them from their fears, reminding them of better things. Yet for myself at this time, can I justify all of the time and effort I require to produce a novel that doesn’t get read beyond a few people, when that same time and effort should be spent instead battling and exposing the forces in the United States that are anathema to human rights, dignity and freedom? Shouldn’t be all hands on deck?
That brings me to a concern from the other side of this ever spinning coin; expressing views on political issues is often frowned upon for new, or even established writers. You don’t want to alienate potential readers after all.
But again, I don’t have a following of readers right now, despite best efforts. Who exactly would I be alienating? Furthermore, How out of touch would I appear if I failed to use what little platform I have to speak out against this country’s emerging parallels with late 1920’s Germany? Stepping away from it all and letting “others” sort it out is one of the main reasons we ended up with early 1940’s Germany in the first place.
If you follow my blog, you know that for the last 18 months or so, I’ve felt a bit of a drag on my writing energies anyway. Add to that immigrant children being abused, the hard journalists I mentioned being labeled as “enemies of the people,” and an ever cozier relationship with the Putin tyranny on the part of our government, and how is one ever to get through a particularly rough rewrite of a fantasy featuring crystals and the afterlife? “Keep Calm and Carry On” was a noble sentiment, but it was born out of a nation’s preparation for being literally blown up.
I’ll carry on writing for now, but not out of nobility. It’s because I don’t know exactly what else I’m supposed to do when I’m not keeping track of the American decline. Still the question of how justified I am in doing so is more up in the air than I would like it to be.
You make hundreds if not thousands of choices every day. We all do. Naturally, this means that they are hundreds of things each day you choose not to do. You didn’t get the Caesar salad for lunch at the cafeteria. (Because you went with soup today.) You’re opted for more sleep this morning, so you didn’t take the earliest commuter train to work. You’re “to-read” pile at this moment is a stack of books that you most recent chose not to read next.
And so on.
Up until the present moment, you know how the decisions you made panned out today. Yet what about all the options you didn’t take?
This is the genre of alternate-history in a nutshell. But you can use it on a micro-level, without writing about an entire new history of the planet. (Unless of course you want to.)
If, however, you’re only looking for a writing exercise to keep sharp, one that comes with a virtually infinite number of prompts, try this: At the end of your day, (or at some other quiet time of same) pick one simple decision you had to make, and write a paragraph or two that describes you making the other choice. Make the narrative cover a few hours of your day.
Of course you may say that you didn’t make any huge decisions today. This isn’t about huge; it’s about cause an effect. It’s about sequence. Stories are essentially an organized sampling of decisions made, and the consequences that result from those decisions, as well as personal responses and reactions to them. When you consider how your choice, your day might have turned out, you’re not only “writing what you know,” (who knows your day better than you do?) but you are practicing the art of observing and determining how one events leads to another, to another.
Choices. Consequences. More choices. Results. Reactions. You may not have an award-winning piece of literature in you every single day. Nobody does. Yet you always have what your day could have been as a catalyst for craft.