Steve B. Howard's Blog, page 148

Satori in the Slipstream: My Short Story Collection

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.

Yeah, and those guys that paddle into those monster waves at Mavericks near Half Moon Bay are about…

Yeah, and those guys that paddle into those monster waves at Mavericks near Half Moon Bay are about heroic as they come. I can’t imagine dropping into a 20–60 foot wave that might hold you under for 1–3 minutes if you wipe out.

Haiku Before an October Typhoon

“plane flying near clouds” by Hudson Hintze on Unsplash

Outskirts of October
Typhoon blows through
global warming neh

Haiku Before an October Typhoon was originally published in P.S. I Love You on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting. This was originally a chapter from the first novel I wrote, but was never able to find a literary agent or publisher for.

The Naked Surf

“person in body of water holding surfboard” by Víctor Vázquez on Unsplash

Harvey stood on the cold winter beach in Northern California, white longboard pointing to the sky and bare ass pointing towards the bluff behind him. He watched the waves roll into the bay, breathed the air, noted how the wind passed his ears, absorbed the weak winter sunlight, and shifted the coarse sand between his toes. He also watched the violent vibrations running down the length of the brand new pier that sat in the bay as an ugly insult to the ocean. Large waves slammed into it and rolled onto the beach. Observations finished he entered the frigid water and began paddling out to the break.

“photo of beach at daytime” by Matthias Jordan on Unsplash

Harvey dug his hands into the water and pulled fiercely with each stroke. He could feel the ocean’s anger. With each wave, he pushed through or swam up the face of he felt the ocean trying to spin him and suck him under. The waves hissed menace in his face as the stinging white caps broke over his head. He was numb past his elbows and the parts of his body that still felt any sensation only felt pain from the cold. The sharp wind burned across his flesh and his mouth was always full of saltwater. He’d been in the water seven minutes and hadn’t even made it halfway to the break.

As he made his way further out Harvey could see the vibration moving through the pier. The small cracks in the cement pilings he’d seen before had all widened and in some places become large gouged out holes. The water churned brown and grey in an indistinct soup of swirling malice towards a pier that tried to force its waves into a shape the ocean had never intended.

Harvey continued to fight it even as his own violent memories of the jungle and the war began to churn up, humid death on punji sticks and festering wounds. Again and again the faces of the dead, those he’d killed and those he’d had to watch die, flipped through his memory burying him deeper in guilt until he was unsure if he was paddling through the waves or the violence of his past.

“Paddled out here to escape the war, not re-live it. It’s all coming down,” he mumbled to himself.

He pulled hard to make the last few yards past the break and reached the calmer water just past the reef. He sat on his board resting. The feeling began to return to his fingers as sharp little needles of pain. The lip of the waves that formed just as they crossed the reef dropped right in front of him and into the new channel created by the pier and made their rapid sprint to the beach. He reached his hand out and felt his fingers hiss through the wave top. He marked the potential of its power and decided he could wait a while for the massive waves that he knew were roaring towards him out of the open ocean to appear. Beyond the reef and bay, the only violence was in the wind. It battered his naked back, but he had become a rock.

His set finally rolled in and Harvey closed his eyes. He took deep slow breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. The rhythms of his heart slowed; the rhythms of the ocean slowed, and then they synchronized and there was no heartbeat or waves. He opened his eyes and felt no violence or fear. He paddled onto the lip of the next wave until he felt the wave’s energy merge with his own, then he stood on his board naked but clothed in nature’s purity and let the ocean take him.

“man surfing on clear wave sea” by delfi de la Rua on Unsplash

Rushing down the face of the wave he found the blank spot in his head and in his heart where no forces competed or collided. His senses simply drank the energy of the roaring wave; his feet knew their place on the board; the darkness of his past, Vietnam with its horrors, and the constant uncertainty of his future, the lingering doubts and paranoia were wiped clean by the great water’s energetic present; Harvey knew that despite any outside influences that might have been trying to sabotage this wonderful ride that the ocean could see right through the pain and the fear into what was the core of his heart and soul, where the same primal energies that made up the undying current also drove the energies that gave Harvey life.

He made the drop but didn’t bottom turn out. He pointed his board straight for the beach and let his speed carry him. Overhead the massive wave began to collapse. To his left, the ugly pier was collapsing as well. Harvey held his line and disappeared as the wave broke and whitewater exploded around him.

“photo of sea shore with rocks” by Michael Durana on Unsplash

Then he emerged from the fury and rode his board onto the beach. The pier was now a crushed pile of concrete and twisted steel broken in the ocean. But Harvey was intact, alive, and whole.

The Naked Surf was originally published in The Junction on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Yeah, I doubt this one will get me any book deals to write a self-help book, lol.

Yeah, I doubt this one will get me any book deals to write a self-help book, lol.

How to Write an Inspirational Article that Everybody Will Love So Much They Will Want to Hug You…

How to Write an Inspirational Article that Everybody Will Love So Much They Will Want to Hug You Until Your Head Pops Off

INSERT: Inspirationally Looking Pic Here (usually best if it’s a young fit person standing on top of a mountain that none of your readers look like or could possibly climb even if there was an escalator running up the side of the fucking mountain)

“man standing on rock formation” by Sadeq Mousavi on Unsplash

INSERT: Bolded Open Ended Question to Hook Reader

Do You Want to Change Your (INSERT Anything you fucking want here)

INSERT: Rambling personal example of why this is the most important thing you will read at least until you read the next most important thing you’ll ever read.

A long boring rambling personal story about how all that follows changed my life at least long enough for me to get inspired enough to write this article about how inspiring this all is, was, will be again, OH MY GOD I’M LOSING IT. STAY POSITIVE, STAY FOCUSED, POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS!!!! Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man…..

INSERT: First of ten sneaky listicle headings that don’t look like listicles because I didn’t number them, but really are even though we shouldn’t use listicles anymore because a listicle guru said they aren’t cool anymore and he isn’t using them anymore, so I shouldn’t use them either and testicle, OH MY GOD I’M LOSING IT. Breath, stay positive, focus, okay. POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS!!!! Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man…..

Just Do It! (But don’t do it in a way that gets you sued by Nike)

Long vaporous fluffy jazzy peppy sounding bubble gum speech about getting shit done and being a winner while you do it. Or Just do it. But not in a way that leads to a lawsuit because then my anxiety issues kick in and I can’t reach my meds and OH MY GOD I’M LOSING IT. Breath, stay positive, focus, okay. POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS!!!! Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man…..

INSERT: Second of ten sneaky lisitcle headings, because 7 or 10 always sell. But don’t number them, never number them, because if you number them they will know you're a fraud and the listicle guru who doesn’t use listicles anymore said I shouldn’t use listicles anymore and OH MY GOD I’M LOSING IT. Breath, stay positive, focus, okay. POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS!!!! Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man…..

Just Do It Even When You Don’t Feel Like Doing It!

Obligatory peppy pep talk about pushing through for when the reader’s third cup of coffee wears off and they are crashing.

INSERT: Eight more super duper spunky neato sneaky unnumbered listicle headings like happy dappy marshmallow lumpinchunks all dancing in perfectly centered and bolded headings down the page just so one of your fucking blog posts can get featured and receive more than twenty claps and you will finally feel like you aren’t wasting all your time and effort writing short stories and poetry that nobody gives a shit about and OH MY GOD I’M LOSING IT. Breath, stay positive, focus, okay. POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS!!!! Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man…..

INSERT: Wise sounding quote in large text from someone who has been dead a very very long time and is widely considered to be an extremely wise person even though they failed to invent toilet paper.

Wise sounding gibberish- Dead Wise Dude

INSERT: One more picture of nature or cute fuzzy animal pic, it doesn’t fucking matter what as long as it’s bright and cheery looking unlike the darkness in my heart that keeps trying to creep back into the this jazzy, spiffy little OH MY GOD I’M LOSING IT. Breath, stay positive, focus, okay. POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS!!!! Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man…..

“white puppy running on green grasses” by Nikolay Tchaouchev on Unsplash

INSERT: Nice upbeat positive ending that ties everything together in a nice neat little fluffy bow and sounds almost exactly like the last inspirational listicle, oops, I mean “article” you wrote.

A short summary that you don’t really need to read if your eyes haven’t rolled back into the back of your head because of the grand mal seizure this happy horseshit has caused you, but maybe you want to read it because of all the positive adjectives and adverbs I’m going to through in to make the word count, but you don’t really have to of course because it’s all about just doing it, not in a Nikey sort of way, but you know, in any way you want to do it because who am I to tell you how to do something even though that was the whole point of this fucking listicle, uh I mean article yeah, that’s what I mean, OH MY GOD I’M LOSING IT. Breath, stay positive, focus, okay. POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS!!!! Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man, Tony Robbins is a very wealthy man…..

That’s great!

That’s great! I’ve only gotten around 150 views so far, but I’m going to keep posting stuff on Ello and see what happens.

I feel the same way. Thanks for sharing the link to yours. I will definitely read it soon.

I feel the same way. Thanks for sharing the link to yours. I will definitely read it soon.

They are great if you are doing stuff outside of Medium.

They are great if you are doing stuff outside of Medium. And I have convinced a lot of writers in those groups to join Medium. It is a bit surprising to see how many writers have never heard of it.