Category: Creativity

In search of a subtitle

Listen to this post:

Most people probably don’t pay attention to such things, but anyone who does may have noticed a couple changes to the cover of What I Came to Say since last month when I announced the title of my next book, which is atop the right sidebar if you’re reading on a laptop or down below my bio if you’re on a “smart” phone or tablet.

(Actually, the latest version of the cover is under the subject line, isn’t it?)

I’m a practitioner of “morning pages” in my journal — three pages of more-or-less stream-of-consciousness writing first thing in the morning to stir the creative juices and get my early-morning thoughts out on paper and out of my system. As you might expect if you have followed me for any length of time, some of Tuesday morning’s musing was once again chastising myself for unfinished business.

For example, it’s two weeks since I decided to devote Saturday’s blog to the ongoing story of Allen the Alien. When I made that decision, I had completed Chapters 4 and 5, and my Tuesday morning self-flagellation was how I had not yet produced Chapter 6 for this coming weekend. For what it’s worth, I wrote Chapter 6 before sitting down to write this post.

I also have started another whimsical little bit of fantastical fluff that I am planning to turn into a series of short podcasts to be released once I have written and produced a “Season 1” of 10 episodes. More on that project if I ever write Episode 2 and beyond, which was another round of self-flagellation on Tuesday morning.

“Where does the time go?” I chided the guy in the mirror. “Down the drain, or rather, to the same place it has always gone and never to return, never to be changed, all those present moments squandered. The fruit of the spirit is blah blah blah blah and self-control. Self-control is last on the list but still a fruit of the spirit, and yet I can’t seem to stop myself from having another snack, watching another YouTube video, playing another game of computer solitaire, or catching another episode of whatever I’m binging.”

I reminded myself of the words of my poem and song “I’m Not Done”: “I still have things to say and I don’t know how I’ll say them, but sure as I feel, I feel that I’m not done.” And I reminded myself that I wrote a song called “Refuse to be Afraid” 30 years ago, which became the title of a book 16 years ago, and that I wrote my most well-received short story, “Wildflower Man,” 30 years ago, and I have made precious few attempts to bring those creative efforts to a wider audience in the meantime.

At this point I was about to bemoan my constant tendency to whining and self-flagellation without follow-up, when I caught myself and remembered the whole point of morning pages is to flush out the negativity and put myself in a better place for creative exploration. 

“If I can exorcise these demons, recognize them as the demons they are, and sail past them, maybe I can say what I came to say, figure out how to say them, and build myself what legacy I can build in the time that’s left.”

“Making the most of the time that’s left” — I realized that’s the best candidate for a subtitle I’ve been able to conjure since I settled on a title for the book. And so that became the second tweak to the cover since I unveiled it last month — the first was to pull back the focus of the illustration from the black-eyed Susans to the guy taking the selfie, and the second was to add the subtitle. 

No doubt there will be further tweaks as the project draws nearer to publication, whenever that may be. At this point my publication date is “sometime before Christmas,” and my next goal is to make that a little more specific. 

Here’s how I finished my Tuesday morning pages:

“I have points to make, songs to sing, and stories to tell, and this morning I have the ambition to get started and get going. I so prefer this version of me to the one who struggles with melancholy and indolence. How do I bury that guy and fly with this guy? Probably by acknowledging they are the same guy, bearing with the sad lazy guy and encouraging the whimsical happily driven guy to take the wheel, with God’s help.”

It was a good start to the day. I did mention I wrote “Allen the Alien,” Chapter 6, before I sat down to write this post, didn’t I?

Visiting with old friends

Listen to this post:

God’s Country, the 22nd novel by William Kent Krueger featuring Corcoran “Cork” O’Connor, arrived in my “smart” phone Tuesday morning, and I dove right in. This is a review of the first three and half chapters, which left me in tears and smiling.

The book begins with a family reunion that includes a trip to the cemetery, and so in that first half-hour of the audiobook we are reintroduced to all of the most important people in Cork O’Connor’s life, including lost loved ones. It is a brilliant way to bring the reader/listener back into a beloved world we have visited 21 times before — but it’s also a brilliant way to introduce that world to a reader/listener who decides to start with the 22nd book.

Best of all, when I got home from my morning errands, the second half of Chapter 4 was about to (re)introduce us to Henry Meloux, the ancient Ojibwe who I would argue is the real hero of the O’Connor books and at the very least their spiritual center. I always love it when the story brings us to Crow Point. 

As a wannabe professional author, I found these chapters as good as any master class. As a reader, I am hooked and eager to keep following the story. (And as a reader/listener, I would be remiss in not acknowledging the work of narrator David Chandler, who brings these characters fully to life time and again.)

If you are already a fan of Krueger and Cork O’Connor, let me alert you to the arrival of a new book. If you’re unfamiliar, let me heartily recommend you check out this series, which begins with Iron Lake — or you could test my theory and start with God’s Country. I very much believe either option will get you hooked.

Reset button

Listen to this post:

I have been retired, for the most part, for 15 months. I still do about 10 hours weekly of clerical work for the last day job. Actually, I never had a “day job”; pretty much every job I ever had required working nights and/or weekends. And come to think of it, I haven’t worked a regular 40-hour week in 10 years.

When my position was eliminated (“Nothing personal, it’s a financial decision”), it was my full intention to work for myself from that moment on. I declared myself a full-time author and started an online “newspaper” for the local news desert southeast of my home. After four months a paper on the other side of the bay decided to recruit me for their open editor’s job, and they were so eager to fill the position that they agreed to let me work 28 hours a week so that I could maintain my online newspaper on the side.

Truth be told, my side hustles never brought in enough revenue to pay the bills. Social Security and the 28-hour job kept the lights on. But I really enjoyed the four-ish years that the online news site survived. I was filling a void and making my own way.

I was also stalling. If I really wanted to be a full-time author when I grew up, taking on two news-gathering jobs was an excuse not to grow up. 

I retired 50 years to the day after I started my first full-time job. For these past 15 months, technically, I have been what I wanted to be when I grew up: A full-time author, with a part-time clerical job to help with groceries. Funny thing about growing up: It seems I don’t wanna.

Monday always has been a good day for a reset, and I write this Sunday evening with my finger poised over that button. Will this be the week that I finally start being a full-time author in practice as well as in theory? The fact that I wrote it as a question, not as a declaration, is telling.

I know me. And if you’ve followed this blog, you know me, too. I’ve made declarations before. The first time I declared I was going to become a full-time author, the goal was my birthday in March 1990. I’m currently two-thirds through a novel that I once declared I would publish by the end of 2021. And so I’m going to leave it as a question and not a declaration like, “Yes! From this day forward I am a full-time author!”

But keep an eye on me for me, please. Feel free to ask how my new book or next album is coming, as politely or as rudely as you wish. You don’t even have to be interested in reading or listening to them; just receiving the question will motivate me. At least I hope it does.

Being accountable to someone is a good motivation. I’m planning to have a spaghetti dinner at Mary’s house this afternoon, and my goal is to read her what I’ve written today. That seems to be a good way to reset my brain and motivate me; we’ll see how that works.

If pressing the reset button does work, and the good Lord willing, from this day forward I will be an actual full-time author. The thought both excites and frightens me.