Please enjoy this story I wrote

The one voice sounded like hundreds.

Some yelling in anger.

Some screaming in pain or fright.

Some with unbearable grief caught in their throats.

Some with a soft lilt.

you are well and truly fucked. you understand this, right?

I took a step back. Another. Another. I was against the wall.

you understand this, do you not?

The voice wanted an answer.

More insistent: do you understand me?

I drew a long, slow, and deep breath. I hesitated. I needed to sound strong, and not squeak out a reply.

“No,” I finally said. “No.”

no?

I crossed and uncrossed my arms. “No.”

YOU HAVE CHALLENGED ME

The voice surrounded me.

THAT WILL PROVE TO BE A MISTAKE

The voice enveloped me.

YOU WILL UNDERSTAND

And it rose, glowing in anger, casting a blood red glow about my living room. I slid right as his eyes tracked me. Perhaps I could make it to a window and make an escape.

STAY

A tendril, somehow glowing in a sleek obsidian, shot forth. I dodged. It struck the wall next to my head, missing by mere inches.

you will stay

Another black tendril. This one had apparently slid across the floor, unbeknownst to me, and slid up my back to wrap around my neck and lift me off the floor.
you will stay

My breath came only in short, ragged gasps. I grabbed the tendril with both hands and tried to pull it away from my neck.

you will STAY

My feet dangled a nearly a meter from the floor. I had no breath left. The world began to fade.

.

.

.

.

I held my daughter for the first time. Her eyes flickered open and locked with mine.

.

.

Her eyes locked with mine.

“You’re a hypocrite, Dad,” she shouted, her cheeks stained by cheers. “A hypocrite!”

I balled my fist and slammed it into

.

.

the mirror. I held the refracted, fractured gaze of my doppelganger. I glanced down at my bloodied fist and ever so gingerly pulled the shard of glass from my knuckle. I looked up again at the sad, broken face before me and

.

.

and said

.

.

.

“enough”

.

.

.

enough of this

.

With nothing left in me, I still managed to grab the tendril and

.

.

.

.

.

I pulled. I pulled

with one shrill voice it said: no stop

I pulled harder than I thought possible

NO STOP

I suddenly found myself a heap on the floor. The tendril haphazardly waved about above me.

.

Slowly, I managed to stand.

Though all I could muster was a hoarse whisper: “Enough.”

The red glow became purple then blue and finally began to fade back into the dark. I braced myself against the wall. I looked out the window, spotted with rain.

“Enough.”

Walking

I no longer have a vehicle.

It’s a long story (and one that I am in no mood to rehash), but much of it has to do with the fact that the repairs that I would have had to make would have cost more than the car was worth. This isn’t as much of a tragedy as it may sound. I had owned the car for a good number of years and it was… well, let’s just say that it was somewhat past its prime.

Where I am fortunate is that I don’t live terribly far from my workplace. Prior to my car’s untimely death, my usual commute time was around five minutes, if that. Once I began walking to and from the office, my daily commute became about thirty minutes each way.

It’s not a bad commute, really. When walking, it takes a bit under ten minutes to make my way through my neighborhood, after which I cross a busy street. I walk past the local botanical center until I cross a pedestrian bridge over the Mississippi River. Eventually, I cross what is known as the Arsenal Bridge (aka the Government Bridge). The Arsenal Bridge is quite interesting, in that it is one of the few swing span bridges in the United States. A portion of the bridge actually swings open to allow barge traffic through. All vehicular, pedestrian, and train traffic must stop to allow a barge through. It’s quite a sight to stand close as the bridge turns on its axis to be open to water traffic, then swing back into position.

The only downside to my walks were some exceptionally cold winter mornings. There is a great deal to be said for properly bundling up. Between good gloves, a headwrap, a stocking cap, and a good scarf I managed to brave those cold, dark mornings. Just as important as the aforementioned: footwear. I had managed to acquire a very good pair of boots. A well-made and well-insulated pair of boots is a walker’s best friend, especially in winter months.

Walking every day has a few benefits, the most obvious being physical fitness. A solid hour of vigorous walking burns a lot of calories and has some cardiovascular benefits as well. Just as important has been the uninterrupted time with myself. I have had a lot of time to just think. Sometimes that thinking was about myself and the trajectory of my life. Other times, I would work out the details of creative projects. I might set some goals, work through how to best deal with a challenge, or simply dispense with whatever might be bothering me on that particular day. Just as my physical fitness benefitted, my mental fitness did as well.

One thing that did not lend itself to a pedestrian commute was going to the grocery store. Imagine lugging a week’s worth of groceries home over a twenty or so minute walk. No bueno. Fortunately, one of my three sons now has his driver’s license and has been taking me to the store once a week. We have somehow managed to turn the weekly grocery-getting ritual into something of an enjoyable experience. Better yet, he will be an experienced and savvy shopper when it comes time for him to do so for himself.

Once the snow fully melted away, I noticed the large amount of trash underfoot.

• Beer cans.
• Soda cups.
• Water bottles.
• Fast food containers. (somebody in my neighborhood goes to Checkers quite often)
• Liquor bottles (somebody in my neighborhood REALLY likes Cinnamon Fireball Whiskey).

I began to bring plastic bags with me each morning. I would pick up trash along the way. It was a great way to give my commute a sense of mission and meaning. I was helping the environment and making my neighborhood a nicer place. I actually posted on Facebook a couple of times about my new “hobby” and was really pleased with the positive response. A few people even stated that they would start picking up trash in their own neighborhoods. The only downside of this has been my new hyper-awareness of trash everywhere.

(and really, people… I think we can all do better in this regard)

It’s especially gratifying that so much good (pretty much all of the above) issued from a crappy event (that being, of course, the death of my vehicle).

I have acquired a bicycle a couple of months ago, which has cut my commute down to somewhere in the ten to fifteen-minute realm. I will probably get another car before too long (I imagine before winter sets in). I will still walk or bike at least some of the time, though. I really think that I would miss it if I didn’t.

Hi Everybody

It's been quite some time since I have posted here.
I had been plotting a BIG NEW WEBSITE that would also serve as a platform for my blogging. I have put those plans aside, at least for the short and medium-term.
Expect some new words in this place soon.

Dear Diary

Somehow journaling has been cropping up (and cropping up frequently) in my life as a topic of discussion. I started doing some heavy-duty journaling a few months ago, so I certainly have a few thoughts worth sharing on this subject.

To my mind, one the chief benefits of keeping a journal (at least the way I do it) is that it forces you to think. In order to get the day’s random swirl of thoughts into anything resembling a coherent sentence or paragraph, you will have to think. You will have to be at least somewhat rational (please note the use of the word “somewhat”). In doing so, you will often see where you may have judged someone too harshly, maybe taken something the wrong way, or one of a million other thinking errors.

Also to your advantage is the opportunity to read over your past musings. Since starting my journal document on April 3rd, I have noticed a distinct change in my tone. I have gone from whiny, despairing, and a little angry to confident and (more or less) ready for whatever comes next. Nothing beats having actual evidence of your own self-improvement.

I found that keeping my journal also helped me get back into a serious relationship with my my writing voice/ mojo. We were, perhaps, not on the best of terms for a little while, but my journal helped us get reacquainted and become best pals again.

That said, here are a few tips to get you started:

Remember that it’s whatever you want it to be. Your journal can be a daily decompress. It can be a bitch session. You can fill it with your hopes, dreams, plans, and goals. You can write a narrative of your life and turn it into a memoir. The key (I think, anyway) is to use your journal as a means to examine your life and eventually improve it.

You can use whatever medium you wish. I use a Google Doc and just type my little heart out. Many use a blank book, one of those fancy Moleskin notebooks, or even a plain old spiral notebook. Just make sure that whatever you use, it’s something to which you have quick and easy access.

It’s just for you. I would suggest that whatever medium you use, keep your journal secure. Knowing that your journal is secure gives you license to be honest. Thinking that your words may be subject to prying eyes might stifle what you want to say. Being honest and real is critical. I wouldn’t suggest that you start sharing your journal either. You might start writing for an audience and not yourself.

Keep it on the regular. I write something in my journal document daily, without exception. Your lifestyle might not lend itself to daily journaling, however. I would strongly suggest a minimum of once a week. It’s important to keep up some frequency, as well as a degree of recency to the events you want to examine.

In the end, journaling is well worth a shot. Who knows, it might even change your life.

Rebirth

Like many of you, I had a pretty sizable comic book collection in my younger years. And like many of you, I have absolutely no idea what happened to it. I remember some of the books I had. This one, pictured below, is said to be worth $75.00 to $100.00 these days.

Another comic I remember, the circa 1977 debut issue of the new hero Black Lightning, is currently going for up to $285.00.

So I might not have been able to pay for college had I sold off some of those books, but I think that I had a pretty respectable collection. It would have been nice to still have all those books, but they are now… who knows where. They are likely dust in the wind at this point.

Cut to many years later. My own children are now older than when I bought the aforementioned comics. We would sometimes go to one of the comic shops near my home. We usually treated ourselves to a theater trip when one of the big new superhero movies came out. In short: casual fans.

We were all out and about one day when we ventured into one of the aforementioned shops. The friendly proprietor informed us that the next Saturday would be “Batman Day” (I’m of the school of thought that every day is Batman Day, but whatever). He would have some grab bags for sale. $25.00 for around $70.00 worth of comics, graphic novels, and other merchandise.

SOLD.

I bought one, as did each of my twins. The shop owner wasn’t kidding when said that there would be north of $70.00 of value in that bag.  I found a couple of hardcover graphic novels, a paperback edition of Frank Miller’s classic, The Dark Knight Returns, along with a number of comics and other items. One of the comics in my grab bag was this one:

I have long been a huge Batman fan, so I read this one right away. The issue ended on a rather intriguing cliffhanger, so I soon acquired the next issue. And the one after that. And the one after-- (okay, as of this writing we are up to issue #14). I soon started buying All-Star Batman, Detective Comics, Batman Beyond, and Nightwing.

You may have noticed the DC Comics Rebirth banner atop the Batman cover. The DC Rebirth is a reboot/ reset/ initiative for the bulk of the DC Comics line. This reboot was about more than just book numbering… it was a rebirth of, as the powers that be at DC put it, ”optimism and legacy”.

The Rebirth branding also had some resonance for me personally. It was, obviously, a rebirth of my comic collecting hobby. I always had some comics around, odds and ends that I picked up here and there. I began frequenting my nearby shops, particularly on new release day. I started bagging and boarding my collection, and organized my books as well.

Collecting comics seems at once familiar and new. My inner pre-teen self is thrilled, while my adult side appreciates the opportunity to explore something new (ish). In addition, it certainly doesn’t hurt that my fifteen year old twins have also started collecting (anytime you can find an activity or interest you can share with your teenagers, YOU DO IT).

The storylines have been excellent as well. The multi-part “Night of the Monster Men” arc, played out over issues of Batman, Detective Comics, and Nightwing, was dramatic and action-packed. It had a great ending that solidified Batman’s place as my favorite hero.

“Night of the Monster Men” was followed up with “I Am Suicide”, another intense, multi-part storyline that took a deep (and dark) dive into Batman’s psychology.

All of the books that I have read so far have been compelling, well-written, and a lot of fun. Much of the art is spectacular too, as evidenced by this suitable for framing cover art…

So, of course, I’m thoroughly enjoying the stories and characters that I have been following. It’s also fun to stop in to the various comic book shops to pick up new issues and search for the pieces to fill the gaps in my collection. I am fortunate in that live within mere blocks of three different shops. Each one is different, and each one has its own charms. My kids and I frequent them all. It’s very easy to stop in to one or the other on the way to somewhere else, or walk to one on an otherwise lazy Saturday afternoon.

I couldn’t be happier that the DC Universe Rebirth initiative parallels my own rebirth of sorts as a comic collector. I can’t say exactly why I drifted away from comics, but I’m glad to be back.

Fun With Dream Analysis

Being a creative type person, I tend to have very vivid dreams.

A few weeks ago, just prior to the holiday season, I had what was among the most vivid dreams I ever had. I actually woke up slightly disoriented, feeling for a couple of minutes that the dream was quite real.

In the dream, I was wandering through a forest of sorts with one of my three sons. I didn’t have a strong sense of where we were. We may have been lost, but the environment seemed a bit familiar… perhaps because the area seemed a bit like the woods I frequently explored as a child. We eventually came upon a run-down house. It appeared to be standing only by the grace of a few nails and a couple posts that held up the exterior walls. I told my son to stand back as I took a step inside. The interior was mostly empty, save for a trash can, spilling over with garbage, off in one corner, and an old wooden chair near the center of the room. I opted not to step further inside, as I didn’t feel that it would be safe.

A heavyset older man went by, walking a large dog, perhaps a German Shepard. We all exchanged pleasantries. My son and I briefly petted the dog and parted ways with the man.

We walked and noticed another house, just yards away. This one was newer and well-appointed. It also was, apparently, occupied.  The large windows fairly well glowed with warmth and light from within. I could see two small white dogs, tails wagging, looking expectantly out one of the windows.

And then I woke up.

My first moderately coherent thought, as I sat up on the edge of my bed:
“When did my son and I go for a hike?”

Then:

“Where was this?”

It dawned on me just moments later that the forest adventure was a mere dream, albeit a very vivid one. I went about my morning routine that included a fresh pot of coffee and a good stretch, both in place to get mind and body started up for the day.

I started up my computer and went to dreammoods.com. I had discovered the site several years ago, in the aftermath of a series of deeply weird dreams I had been having. You search the site’s amazingly comprehensive database of possible dream imagery and review what it had to say. The interpretations are rooted in psychology, rather than any sort of metaphysics. This means that your dream analysis is not a definitive  attempt to predict your future. The site takes its cues from Carl Jung, Alfred Adler, and others. Your results are fairly subjective, especially when you have multiple symbolic signposts to consider. It’s also important to consider your interpretation through the filter of your own life’s events, particularly recent ones. Take the dream I referenced above. The main symbols were the forest, the two houses, and the dogs. Here are the results from the site:

“To see an abandoned house in your dream implies that you have left behind your past. You are ready to move forward toward the future. To see an old, run-down house in your dream represents your old beliefs, attitudes and how you used to think or feel. A situation in your current life may be bringing about those same old attitudes and feelings. Alternatively, the old house may symbolize your need to update your mode of thinking. If you see messy and/or dilapidated houses in your dream, then it implies that an aspect of your own life is in chaos. You may be suffering from some emotional or psychological clutter. You need to release these feelings in order to regain control.”

“To see a new house in your dream indicates that you are taking on a new identity and developing new strengths. You are becoming more emotionally mature.”

“To dream that you are in or walking through the forest signifies a transitional phase. Follow your instincts. Alternatively, it indicates that you want to escape to a simpler way of life. You are feeling weighed down by the demands of your life.”

“To dream that you are lost in a forest indicates that you are searching through your subconscious for a better understanding of yourself.”

“To see a dog in your dream symbolizes intuition, loyalty, generosity, protection, and fidelity. The dream suggests that your strong values and good intentions will enable you to go forward in the world and bring you success. The dream dog may also represent someone in your life who exhibits these qualities. Alternatively, to see a dog in your dream indicates a skill that you may have ignored or forgotten.”

“To see a German Shepherd in your dream, highlights your protective instincts and attentiveness to a situation. This is no time for you to be nervous and/or lose control.”

I was consciously aware that I was undertaking some significant changes in my lifestyle. I had set a goal to move to a new residence, with a target of sometime in the fall of 2017. The house symbols could certainly be viewed in a literal sense. I think that the houses in the dream could also be viewed symbolically. In order to achieve my moving goal, I have been trying to make some internal changes. The symbolism around the old and new houses in my dream suggests that I am on the right track.

The forest imagery tells me that I am in a transitional phase (also a positive sign). I think there is also something to be said for “feeling weighed down by the demands of life”. I have a lot of competing priorities and I do admit that I feel overwhelmed at times. The dogs were there to remind me that I shouldn’t forget about my values as I draw closer to achieving my goal.

Lastly, just one of my three sons was in that dream… I’m guessing that is because he is the one that is pushing the hardest for me to move and is the most emotionally invested in that goal.

So don’t think of dream analysis as some sort of hokey mumbo-jumbo. It can be a very useful tool and perhaps a path to greater and deeper self-awareness. Feel grateful when you have one those weird, vivid dreams… it could very well be a case of your subconscious trying to send you an important message. Listen and reap the benefits.

Some Awesome Writing Books

I recently tore through one of those books that I probably should have read years ago. It’s The War of Art, and was written by man named Stephen Pressfield. You may not know his name, but you probably know his work… he is the author of (among many other books) The Legend of Bagger Vance, on which the popular movie was based.

The book is about Resistance (always capitalized, as if it were a pronoun). Resistance is one of those odd forces of nature that we never talk about but always experience. It pulls you down with the weight of an anvil and inhibits writing, art, and all manner of goals and dreams. The first part of The War of Art puts you face-to-face with Resistance and helps you understand this mystery. The second half of the book gives you some guidance on how to face it down and (ideally) overcome it.

This book is not for everyone. It takes a deep dive into some Jungian philosophy (a far cry from the pop-psych insights one typically sees today). There is no bullet-pointed “action plan” or “Seven Splendiforous Ways to Overcome Your Creative Blocks”. The War of Art is philosophy, psychology, and memoir (and it’s heartening that such a well-regarded author has faced the very same demons and struggles that I have), a hearty buffet of food for thought.

It’s not a long book. It is certainly worth a read for any writer, artist, or entrepreneur.

Now onto the kinda/ sorta similarly titled (but very different) book, The Art of War for Writers. James Scott Bell is one of my very favorite writers that writes about writing. He takes the concepts that Chinese general Sun Tzu put forth in his perennial masterpiece, The Art of War, and applies them to the writing game.

This book is divided into three parts… Reconnaissance, Tactics, and Strategy. The Reconnaissance section concerns itself with an overarching view of one’s writing career and mentality. Tactics covers the particulars of writing good fiction, while Strategy tackles the business aspects of one’s writing career. The individual chapters are short and to the point.

The Art of War for Writers is well worth a read and ideal for keeping within reach of your writing space.

The Nighttime Novelist is an excellent, comprehensive book on the fiction writer’s craft. It is detailed, covering most of what you need to know to start and complete that novel you have been thinking about writing for years. There are sections on structure, characters, beginning, ending, and much more. The Nighttime Novelist is eminently readable, yet is organized enough that it can be used as a handy reference.

Speaking of “a handy reference”, The Creative Writer’s Style Guide has consistently served me well. It has been my go-to guide for years when it comes to those nitpicky questions with regards to comma placement within dialog or conditional verbs and what-not.

Born to Run is the autobiography of rock icon Bruce Springsteen. Reportedly, he wrote it entirely himself, completely without the help of a ghostwriter. It turns out that he is a damn good prose writer… there are some very vivid passages that are nearly as poetic as his lyrics. I am a long-time fan, but there is much to Bruce’s story that I didn’t know.

Why include Born to Run in a blog post about books for writers? The book is about, more than anything, the evolution of an artist and how his early life informed and resounded in his music and lyrics.

These are just a few of the many worthy writing books to be had. Here are some more just to round out the list.

• Writer With a Day Job
• The Productive Writer
• Time to Write
• Write Is a Verb
• The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Creative Writing
• The Everything Guide to Writing Your First Novel

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to actually go write some words now. Please don’t hesitate to chime in should you have a favorite book of your own to feature. I may write another, similar blog post (and I might even cover another medium, such as podcasts about writing). Keep your eyes peeled.