Steve B. Howard's Blog, page 138

Thanks so much for reading and commenting.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting. They aren’t actually a vanity press, just a small press that doesn’t put much effort in putting out quality books. And they don’t promote at all beyond tweeting about new books a few times when they first release them. I really don’t understand why they even bother. They can’t be earning very much from the books they have published.

The Paperback Writer’s Swan Song Muse

Photo by Donald Teel on Unsplash

I watch the saddest man in the
universe shuffle along the cold
iron-hearted streets, splitting
dirty fingernails to the cusp as
he picks at black gum and tar hoping
to free all his long abscessed dreams.

His long matted gray hair and beard painfully
dredded with none of the Rasta love freezes
to his face in the indifferent northern city’s winter.

In the mirror reflected in my eyes, I see him in
a lonely corner of the city library wrapped in shredded
rags as much dirt and dust as they are cloth. I hear
his futile taps on the old Underwood as his sad and
lonely words appear as weak life-sparks on my screen
as brutal and lost as the damaged neural-city in my head
he resides in. His eyes, long lunatic, spit the same fire as
the one in mine.

The Paperback Writer’s Swan Song Muse was originally published in The Junction on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I’m not sure exactly why it’s 49 days, but the Tibetan Book of the Dead describes it pretty…

I’m not sure exactly why it’s 49 days, but the Tibetan Book of the Dead describes it pretty vividly. Essentially your Buddha nature spends 49 days in the Bardo *sort of a Buddhist purgatory” seeing different manifestations of the Buddha, which may or may not terrify you depending on what you did or didn’t do while you were alive. If you are scared you run away from them. Eventually, though, I assume on the 49th day, you will be drawn to one of them and that will determine your next life.

And even though Japanese people have become more secular since the end of WWII Shintoism, Buddhism, Confucianism, and to a lesser extent Taoism, are all still deeply embedded in the culture.

It’s always a bit strange for an atheist like myself to attend all the various religious ceremonies related to birth and death in Japan. Whether you believe or not is beside the point. Showing up though is mandatory, lol.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting. As Hank explained after 49 days the Buddhists believe you are reincarnated. I’ve been a few of the 49 days ceremonies here in Japan after my wife’s grandmothers passed away.

The monk comes to the home of the relatives and performs the ceremony.

It’s become a bit of an interesting social issue in way in Japan now though since the majority of Japanese people consider themselves agnostic or atheists. And it costs a lot to die in Japan, lol.

49 Days

Photo by Sora Sagano on Unsplash

quiet neighborhood
incense in the air today
an elder passes

49 Days was originally published in Haiku Hub on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Kurt’s Tragic Victory

“brown wooden bench on mountainside at daytime” by Nitin Mathew on Unsplash

He had to destroy himself to win.
Built his sound around anti-corporate
anthems, so when he signed there was
nowhere to go but down.

Better to burn out at 27 then to fade
sure, but I’d be happy knowing
you were entering middle age
in a tiny quiet town where no one
knew you or your music other than
a handful of young kids that come
to hear your Wednesday night acoustic set
at the local bowling alley.

Kurt’s Tragic Victory was originally published in P.S. I Love You on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Thank you. Hope you enjoy it. This one is free until December if you want to read it as well.

Thank you. Hope you enjoy it. This one is free until December if you want to read it as well.

https://www.books2read.com/u/3L02le

Thanks so much for reading and commenting. Glad you enjoyed it.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting. Glad you enjoyed it.

My Brand Spanking New Medium Publication!!!!

A place for Medium writers to share their books!!!! Check it out here!

https://medium.com/bookey-lookey-book-promos/what-this-place-is-all-about-i-hope-62af0ebd37bb

What This Place is All About (I hope)

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

Oh dear, what have I done? This is my second attempt at creating a Medium publication. I don’t really have any idea what I’m doing. But I think a place for writers to share their books is something missing on Medium. I’ve been making my own feeble attempts to get the word out on Medium about my own books, so I figured the more the merrier!

I’m thinking something simple to start with:1. Your book cover.
2. an excerpt
3. links

See the example below. Just email your submissions to genxbookowskee@gmail.com and I will publish them and add you as a writer. Here’s to hoping this little experiment grows into a place where Medium writers can promote their books!!!!

Satori in the Slipstream is a collection of dark stories that will take you to those places where the brutal clarity of truth is sometimes revealed. Follow the tales of a young woman in Japan trying to escape her past in a Buddhist temple; a junkie street artist trying to draw away his demons with his art; a Japanese soldier confronting the horrific destruction and death in Hiroshima; a young hustler on the streets saying goodbye to his dead friend; and an office lady in Japan contemplating a fatal leap from the eighteenth story of her apartment building. All these stories and more.

https://www.books2read.com/b/mZP7ap

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HLWJ88L

EXCERPT From Slipping Satori

Hurry Up and Wait:
As the plane lifts off the tarmac, you regret that you won’t have a chance to see that conical shaped volcano one last time: so iconic to Japan. “Maybe it’s best this way,” you think, but it doesn’t still the eruptions in your heart. The plane flies west towards Incheon Airport and the last you see of the archipelago is a black sliver of seismic-shaped coastline jutting out into the rough gray Sea of Japan.

The layover in the massive airport is three hours. The spicy smells of Bibimbap hangs over the food court. You watch the reenactment of a 16th century traditional Korean wedding that’s nearly drowned out by the K-Pop playing over the airport sound system. Abandoning the food court, you make your way to the Yoga room upstairs on the third tier, thinking you can do some zazen before the long flight. Inside there is a young dreadlocked and man-bunned Yogi in the full lotus position. You rub the stubble on your head and remember your own dreads before the nuns shaved them off into a tangled blond pile on the dark hardwood floor of the temple. Shobuji had been strange and unique — nuns and monks, lay foreigners, and a massive wood statue of Kannon in the main temple — unusual for Soto Zen.
It had been optional for a novice, the head shaving, and you had hesitated, vowing to keep your dreads. But on that first day, as the spring rains lashed the roof of the old temple, you sat in the small five-tatami conference room. The head nun sat on a small red dais. You were on the floor next to a French nun who interpreted the rules into her strange-sounding English as the head nun spoke them in Japanese. Their glances at your dreads and a final, “Bohemian, yes so bohemian.” in English from the head nun, followed by a soft chuckle buckled your resolve. “Two years as bald as Sinead O’Connor and then three years to grow them back,” you thought. You glared at a small stone Buddha just above the nun’s head and set your jaw, and you heard yourself say, “Shaved pleased,” before leaving the conference room.

The dull buzz of the electric razor was not quite as cutting as the old barber’s “tsk”. You cried as the nun led you to your tiny three-tatami cell in the square, white, concrete building that sat far back from the main temple.

Above the Pacific:
LA is a solid nine hours away and none of the in-flight movies catch your attention. You flip through Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind again, but nothing from the book sticks. Instead, you pull out your journal, intending to add a long overdue entry, but end up re-reading several entries about your first days in Tokyo.

Journal entry 2/18/2015:
Oh fuck, nearly died last night; can’t believe it. Way too much Molly and no water. And so many lemon Jello shots. WTF was I thinking? I’m still jet-lagged and go clubbing in Roppongi anyway? Should have crashed one more night at the youth hostel. Thank God for Sayaka.

Thanks for reading my stuff. If you enjoyed out check out the ebook and paperback here.

https://www.books2read.com/b/mZP7ap

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HLWJ88L

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1731214944

What This Place is All About (I hope) was originally published in Bookey Lookey Book Promos on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.