T.L. Gray's Blog, page 66

Switch it up, but stay on target!

One of the greatest enemies of writers, or anyone in a particular artistic field, is to get the doldrums.  Becoming stagnant is often the death-stroke to the greatest of masterpieces.  It’s one of the leading causes of unfinished manuscripts sitting in attic boxes, incomplete paintings piled in corners, or half-finished songs piled in piano seats. For authors, these lethargies are often referred to as ‘writer’s block’, but I’m starting to discover another reason.
It’s human nature to be ritualistic, to consolidate our lives.  Routine is good, especially when it comes to being productive and organized.  Establishing a routine requires creativity and imagination, the desire to take disorder and rearrange into order.  For someone creative, this process stimulates our gifts.  The danger appears once order is established, and creativity is no longer in demand.  For writers, this is the moment when we find ourselves with our fingers on the keyboard, but are uninspired.  I don’t think this moment is because our creativity is blocked, but our inspiration hasn’t been exercised.  Our lives are filled with a series of memorable moments.  If those moments are all uniform, the same day in and day out, they become insignificant and uninspiring.  If you find yourself in the doldrums, change something.  It doesn’t have to be a big thing, just something that will cause a new experience.  Switch it up, but stay on target.  Don’t lose sight of the finish line, just change lanes.  Then watch creativity shift into gear at the prospect of a new disorder to conquer.
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

TLGray.net Updated

Check out my website.  I've listed my latest author appearances and speaking engagements, and added a new theme song.  Take a few moments and check it out and let me know what you think.

www.tlgray.net

Exercise Your Artistic Craft

Every spring we witness the same trend - Coming out of winter hibernation, a mob hits the streets and the gym, and makes a mad dash to dust off treadmills in an effort to get bodies into a healthy and energized state. They bend, stretch, and push their muscles to physical limitations against natural protests.  Yet, only a small portion learn to maintain this physical regiment, with the majority falling by the wayside and back into their unhealthy habits within a few weeks, some as fast as a few hours. However, the small portion that succeeds, are those who enjoy the full fruits of their labors, both physically and mentally.  The same concept applies to exercising artistic crafts.
It is insane for a writer, painter, sculptor, actor, musician, etc., to expect to succeed in the arts without exercising their talents.  An artist should always seek ways to stretch their abilities, improve their methods, and be in a continual state of learning about all aspects of the business and application of their craft. If minimal effort is applied, minimal effort will be achieved.
Yes, there are those exceptionswho find great success with minimal to no effort, just as there are those who were born with excellent physical genes and don’t require much exercise.  The truly giftedare oftentimes the laziest, because they haven’t had to persevere or struggle to get what they want.  However, they are also the same ones who fail to maintain success through lack of understanding.
So, Artists, exercise your crafts.  Learn something new about your gift – how to increase your skill and understanding of how to achieve and maintain success.  Cut off the games, close the Facebook and spend a little time today learning at least (1) one new thing that has to do with your art.  Then tomorrow, increase that, and so on.
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

Do a Happy Dance

Being a writer involves a life of many ups and downs, probably more downs and solitude than anything, but there are some really great ‘up’ moments.  We should really cherish those moments, because they are far and few between. 
I’ve had many writers warn me not let myself get too excited, because behind those peaks are long dips and valleys, but I find that bit of advice a little disconcerting.  Why should I not allow myself to get too excited?  Don’t I allow myself to fully worry, to fitfully fret, to completely struggle and to labor?  Why only expect the full benefits of the ‘down’ times, and pull back from experiencing the full joy of the ‘up’ times?  That doesn’t make sense, unless I’m glutton for pain, which I’m not. 
So, my advice today for all those who are approaching an ‘up’ moment –fully enjoy it.  Give yourself completely into the exhilaration and jubilation that comes with the achievement.  Laugh out loud, do a happy dance, and shout from the top of the mountains of your achievement. Don’t be shy about it, and put all modesty to the side.  Don’t allow the Michal’s of this world mock your jubilation.  You’ve earned this moment, so enjoy it.  Don’t let anyone steal it, deem it as precious, and celebrate its existence.  Believe me - it won’t last long before the next trial shows its teeth. 
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

New Release!

The Blood of Cain - 2nd Edition is rolling off the press!
Keep an eye out for more release announcements early next week.

Family Feud – Team Hatfield or Team McCoy?

I had mixed feelings last night when it came time to watch the last segment of Hatfields & McCoys  mini-series on the History Channel, wondering how it would affect my dreams and interrupt my sleep.  Though these two families did make their appearance in my nighttime adventures, it wasn’t as intrusive as the night before. 
As stated in my previous blog post, I was a bit wary this story would end without a resolve, forcing my brain and consciousness to provide one, or struggle from its absence. The History Channel didn’t let me down, and provided a partly sad, and partly hopeful, resolution.  Through careful determination, I reserved my judgment on either family, knowing this wasn’t a work of fiction, but based on historical facts and real families, until the conclusion of the matter.  I wanted to view this tragic story through unbiased eyes, being grateful I had not already had previous knowledge of the legend.  The only thing I knew before watching this series was that in the television show, “The Beverly Hillbillies”, their famous family feud was based on the Hatfields and McCoys, and that it was the basis for the game show “Family Feud”.  Actually, I had forgotten that last piece of information until my son reminded me yesterday. 
My judgment today:  I think this tale would make a great illustration for several moral principles, such as: sowing vs. reaping, generational curses, righteous indignation, religious hypocrisy, and the cause and effect of faith, grace, love and mercy, and the lack thereof. But the greatest lesson: the effect of hate and who really pays the price.
There are always many ‘reasons’ for hate, and in this particular case, it seems to have started at the end of the civil war with a blue coat amongst a gray coat society and mindset, but there are no ‘excuses’.  Hate is a personal choice.  In this particular environment, hate was prevalent, but it didn’t start with the Hatfields or the McCoys, but long before them both in a feuding country.  This particular feud was the fruit harvested after much sowing. I could literally see the ‘devil in the details’ through the side-line instigators on both sides, shooting their bullets from the shadows, stirring the anger, and fueling the fires of hate.
Who ultimately paid the price? The children.  Neither William Anderson “Devil Anse” Hatfield, nor Randolph “Randall” McCoy recognized the fruit of their hate until it became evident in the graves of their dead children. While they sought mercy, they refused to grant it.  I watched a skeptic turned into a believer, and a believer turned into a skeptic. I observed hate destroy love, and love overcome hate.  I witnessed grief destroy hope, and hope rise out of grief.  This is why this story captivates hearts and imaginations. 
In the end, am I team Hatfield or team McCoy?  I’ve always been partial to a Damascus Road experience - a murderer who seeks and finds redemption.  It’s the foundational concept in my novel series, “The Blood of Cain”.  So, I have to say, based on the evidence and story resolution presented, I’m team Hatfield. 
Till next time, ~T.L. Gray

My Hatfields & McCoys Nightmare

Thank you, Hatfields and McCoys, for interrupting my fantastical dreams and replacing them with a nightmare.
I’ve heard that dreams are a way for our subconscious to work out problems we couldn’t deal with while awake. I’m beginning to think that is true.  Often times, when there are things that stress me out in the light, I struggle with in the night.  Thanks to Fox, and their insatiable need to cancel every good show that airs on their network, I’ve spent a night or two trying to reconcile the answers to the cliffhangers that will never be resolved.  I wish networks, who decide to cancel a show, would at least provide an ending and not leave us frustrated without a resolution.  I’m now very reluctant to follow another Fox show for this very reason.  I fear I’ll be trying to ‘find’ the ending to Finder in my nightmares for months to come. Okay, time to get off that rant and back to my point.  This is part of ‘the’ point, but I’ll move on.
Monday, I began watching the new mini-series, Hatfields & McCoys on the History Channel, and I’m so frustrated at the situation, based on a real story, that could have been avoided if not for the pride of mankind. It would have taken two-word phrases by each man (I’m Sorry and Forgive Me) to have prevented a mini-civil war between West Virginia and Kentucky.  Granted, it seems the escalation of the tension between these two families were inflamed by instigators on both sides, not primarily by the two patriarchs, but their examples and a lack of humility and leadership, fueled the flames.  There was a lot of talk about God, but no evidence of His character in either; all judgment and wrath, but no mercy or forgiveness.  Needless to say, my dreams were plagued with trying to work out a resolution between the two families, which included desperate appeals from a distant relative (distant –as in a generational great-great-great granddaughter, traveling through time to bring a passionate plea for peace between her two grandfathers, ending with one killing the other).  
Perhaps there’s some part of me, recently discovering on Ancestry.com a lineal connection to the Civil War, and my family coming from the same area, which reacts to this story on a personal level.  Who knows?  I have learned one thing: I’m so thankful to have been born in this generation.  I don’t think I would have done well in that particular time period of our history.  I can’t imagine the nightmares that would constantly plague me in search of solutions. I hope there’s enough resolution in the last part of this mini-series tonight for me to have a restful sleep, but I’m not holding my breath.
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

Don’t Forget the Audience

This past holiday weekend, I decided to put ‘work’ aside and really looked forward into delving into a new adventure.  In the space of a few hours, one late afternoon, I went through three books before I finally found one even remotely interesting.  
I became frustrated after pushing myself through the first five chapters of the first novel, hoping and praying that the story will finally hit its stride, but it didn’t.  The pacing was slow, the events were unbelievable and the emotion was completely disconnected.  I so much wanted to love this story, because I loved the book blurb, the story idea and it had received lots of great reviews.  But, I refuse to read for reading sake.  There are too many great stories out there for me to waste my time on dull and dreary. That was $4.99 wasted.The second story started off promising, but by the third chapter it began to jump from POV to POV without any indication.  I became lost as to who was talking, who was thinking and whose emotions were being described.  Sure that I had checked to make certain the book was not self-published; I was quite surprised to find that it was indeed.  I have given at least a dozen and one chances for the self-published industry to put out some great novels, to be let down a dozen times.  So, I found myself wasting another $2.99 on a literary mess.
The third novel, a self-published title -“The Fall of Billy Hitchings” by Kirkus McGowan, kept coming up in my Kindle library.  I don’t remember putting it in, or even where I heard of the book in the first place, but because it was self-published I kept pushing it away.  So, I spent the rest of my weekend watching movies with my family instead. But, this morning, and back to my regular routine, I needed something to read while on the treadmill (to keep my mind off the timer and the pain in my body), so I flipped on my Kindle and it opened to the last book I had been perusing.  I thought, “What the heck, at least try the first couple of chapters.”  So my dozen and one chances to find a great self-published title turned into a dozen and two.
The story started off with a bang, right in the middle of full blown action, and the dialogue flowed smoothly and is realistic in the modern-day time period, the style of writing was in my favorite  style (active/showing), and within a few sentences,  I was hooked.  I forget about the minute counter on the treadmill, and the aches in my arms and legs from having a laid-back extended weekend and now forcing them to perform at their top level, and got lost in the adventure.  Before I knew it, I the timer started beeping on the treadmill, and I was nearing the end of chapter four. I didn’t want to stop reading, but I knew I must.  I had a full plate of activities to complete (one including this blog) and would have to pick it up again the next morning.  
As I showered, I thought about how nice and refreshing it was to find a diamond in the rough amongst the bilge of self-publication.  I was literally at the point of fiercely advocating against ever reading another self-published title again.  I really, really hope the rest of the book lives up to the first few chapters.  I don’t even know the premise of the story I’m reading, having no idea how I even came across the novel.  It also made me think about how important it is to remember the reader, the audience, when writing a novel.  
Though we, the authors, are the first audience, it is not to ourselves to whom we must appeal, but to our readers.  Society today isn’t the same it was 100, 50, 25, 15 or even 10 years ago.  We live in a fast-paced world that demands our attention, and that attention is divided amongst multiple things in a single day.  A book written 100 years ago, could afford to start off slow and let the characters and emotion build around a central theme, because the readers usually only had one book at a time, and had plenty of time to read through it.  Today, books are published so often, through so many different avenues, and the reader is so inundated, that the writing style has to change to reflect the changing reader – or it will lose them by being left behind.   It’s too easy to put the novel aside and choose something else, and have instant accessibility through eReaders.  So, the story of today MUST be written in a format and a style that grabs the attention, teases the emotion, and broadens the imagination if it’s intent on hooking a reader.  For authors who refuse to change their style in order to meet the demands of the modern, current, and highly-pressured reading audience of the 21st century will find themselves left behind. So, my writing advice for today is this:  Don’t get stubborn and stuck in a rut (a ditch without an end), be open to change, and don’t forget the audience. Without readers, why write?  
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

Happy Memorial Day

THANK YOU!
I can't begin to express my gratitude and appreciation to all those who have bravely served in our armed services. 

Ignorance is Bliss

My  baby is officially a Senior in high school now.  WHAT???  When in Hades did that happen?  It was just yesterday she was causing trouble in middle school.  These last few weeks have left me in the twilight zone.

My little girl (that's what she'll always be to me.  Have you seen that Subaru commercial where the dad is giving his 16-year old daughter driving and safety advice through the window of the car, but all he see's is a little 6-year old???? - well, that's how it is for me.) keeps reminding me that her 18th birthday is coming up.  I hear those words with my ears, but they don't compute like they should, because my inner ear hears "13" - the "3" being only half of the reflected "8". Everybody keeps telling me I have to let her grow up.  What I want is for somebody to SHOW me that law, and I won't accept ink and paper.  It has to be carved in stone by the finger of God.   I am in absolutely NO hurry for her to grow up.  She's doing just fine, just the way she is. 

Growing up is going to happen.  I know that. But, I don't have to rush it along.  I pushed too hard and too fast with my oldest daughter (23), and there's nothing I wouldn't give to grant her an opportunity to be a kid again.  There are some things I would definitely do differently.  But my time-travel superpower doesn't always work when I want it to.    My twenty-one year old son, doesn't seem to be in too big a hurry to grow up, but it's slipping up on him anyway.  One day I see a hungry, lazy, game-playing teenager, and the next I see a responsible, faithful, and mature man.  It goes back and forth between the two.  But, my baby ...I just refuse to think too much about it.  When it finally happens, I'll be forced to accept it, but until it does - leave me in peace, and let me enjoy what little time I have left with her still needing me.  Quit reminding me every two seconds that she's growing up.  Let me imagine her just a little bit longer, clinging to what remains of her childhood. 

Here's a little bit of statics for you:  You are an infant for only two years.  You are a child for only ten years.  You are a teenager for only seven years.  THEN you're an adult for the rest of your life.  Don't be in too big a hurry to become, or push someone else into becoming, an adult.  We've only got 19 years, on average only 5%, of our whole life to be in this youthful stage. So if my brain computes 13 instead of 18 - let it. In this instance - ignorance is bliss.

Now, I've got to get to work and see how much editing I can squeeze in before she wakes up and starts interrupting me - wanting or needing something, or just plain ol' bored and I'm the distraction.  (No, I'm not bipolar - but I sometimes play one in print.)

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray