Jeffrey Ricker's Blog, page 53

Days like that

I need more of them.

Since I didn't have to go to the office yesterday, I got up late (which, for me, means sleeping in until 6 a.m.) and then went to the gym, followed by a late breakfast/early lunch at Hartford Coffee Company. (I also took that opportunity to drive past my old house again—still for sale, along with the house two doors down, which my old neighbor from across the street redid and made look fabulous.) I came home, let the dogs out, and did some more writing, then had dinner and went off to a meeting of my writing group.

Thrilling stuff, no?

I have a lot I need to get done this year. Well, actually, I have One Big Thing I need to get done: my next novel. I also have a story due in March sometime, as well as a call for submissions that's due in April, which I'm also thinking about.

I'm not calling any of those goals resolutions though. I don't want to be disappointed if none of them come to pass (which, of course, is never a problem because I'm so focused and disciplined—that was sarcasm, by the way; could you tell?).

I resolve not to resolve. There. That's my resolution. But the novel really will get done, though.

If I were to make a resolution, it would probably be to lose ten pounds. I've started running more, and cheese and I are officially on a break. (My cholesterol turned sky high late last year, so on this I really have been more disciplined than usual—except for that grilled cheese sandwich last week. Sigh.)

My fellow writing group member Pat is doing something that could help though. She's a food writer and has been blogging about her efforts to be healthier. She's having great luck with it, and she's posting some of her recipes. (I want to try the black-eyed peas and whole wheat couscous.) Check out A Food Writer Skinnies Up, and if you see her, tell her how fabulous she looks.

Oh, I know one other thing I need to do: turn on Freedom more often.

(By the way, go read this: "What Would Shakespeare Do?" by Julie Smith.)

Happiness is a niece who makes cookies for you

Well, she didn't make the cookies just for me, but she did let me have two of them. They're called PB Bombs, and they're vegan, but don't let that fool you—these things are far from healthy, and far from tasteless. Best of all, they require no baking at all.

I posted the recipe over at redroom.com. Check it out. Only four ingredients, and they take like five minutes to make.

There's only one left in the fridge. I wonder if anyone would notice if I took it….

Speed reading, or why I still like the printed page

I just finished reading my friend Rob Byrnes' novel Holy Rollers yesterday, the second to feature the characters affectionately dubbed "The Gang That Can't Do Anything Straight." If you've read any of his previous books, you know to expect a lot of giggles, several laugh-out-loud moments, and at least a couple instances where he twists things into such a pretzel that you wonder how they're going to get out of it.

I started reading this novel weeks ago on my Kobo. I kept wondering why it was taking me so long to finish it—the one thing I was sure of was that the writing was not to blame for this. And yet, it seemed like every time I picked it up, I only got a couple pages along.

Fast forward (no pun intended) to this past Friday, when the print edition arrived in the mail. As of Sunday morning, I'd finished the last 100 pages and now I'm eagerly awaiting his next book (so get cracking on that, if you would please, Rob).

I guess it never occurred to me that I might read more slowly on an e-reader, but maybe I'm not too surprised. Whenever I sit down in front of a computer screen, time seems to pass… strangely. I get less done. It's easy to call it multitasking, but the truth is I'm easily distracted. (This is why the typewriter comes out when I'm on deadline.) Although e-ink is supposed to mimic the experience of reading a printed page, it turns out that we read 6.2 percent slower on an iPad and 10.7 percent on a Kindle.

In some ways, I can see where reading more slowly might be more desirable (increased information retention, greater comprehension). When it comes to reading for pleasure, though, I have a lot of books and not a lot of time. I'm not going to put my Kobo on eBay, but I'm not about to get rid of my library either. (This, I know, contradicts my earlier post about keeping less stuff. Still, the book collection=one item.)

What do I need all this for?

I've been thinking about stuff a lot lately.

No, I mean stuff, literally. The things I own. I have two dueling tendencies, I think: on the one hand, the inclination to collect things, which comes from… well, I don't know where that comes from exactly. On the other hand, growing up in a military family meant moving a lot, so the ability to pack things quickly and carry minimal belongings seems to me, in a way, a virtue.

A lot of  the things I have, I've held onto for years and I don't know why I keep them. Buffy the Vampire Slayer action figures (never call them dolls) that I never removed from the packaging? And that I bought when I was already in my 30s? Why, exactly? The pair of skinny pants that I bought probably five years ago and that I haven't been able to fit into for three? The shirt that looks cool but never fit right to begin with? The collection of vinyl records that I haven't played in (no exaggeration) decades?

And don't get me started on all of the books on my shelves that I've read once and will probably never read again. I have a hard time thinking about getting rid of those. But everything else? What is all this stuff doing still hanging around?

This week, I finally picked up the copy of the latest Mizzou (-rah!) alumni magazine which has been sitting around for days (maybe weeks—but my magazine stack is so tall, how would I know?). This issue was all about sustainability. One of the feature stories was about a first-year medical student who, inspired by this article in Time magazine, owns 100 items.

One hundred. That's it. No more. Including all his articles of clothing (about 25 pieces, all of which he can wash in a single laundry load). Even including his stethoscope.

I kind of like this idea, which was begun by , who calls the 100 Thing Challenge "a project focused on breaking free from the constraints of American-style consumerism. Have you ever stood in your closet or garage and felt stuck in stuff? Well, I did, too."

I don't know if I can get down to 100 things, but this appeals to me. I have all these things I don't need, and maybe someone else would enjoy them more or get more use out of them (or, in the case of the aforementioned pants, actually fit into them). The Christmas shopping season seems like an odd time to be starting to think about this, but it also seems like the perfect time. I'm looking at things and wondering if their days are numbered. Some of them are already up on eBay.

But can I count my book collection as one item?

I left my heart at 28 Barbary Lane

"Places have a certain energy, and that's true nowhere moreso than in the pages of a book."

The folks over at redroom.com asked their members to blog about books in which setting (or settings) act as a character. Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City series was the first thing that came to my mind. Check it out.

Buy books for a good cause

Admit it, you haven't finished your Christmas shopping yet, have you? Are there any book lovers on your list? I might have a few ideas for you, then. But one idea I definitely have is that you should come to Left Bank Books in the Central West End on Saturday, December 17, from noon to 2 p.m. and buy your book from yours truly. Yep, I'm taking off my writer hat and putting on my bookseller hat, recommending some of my favorite books of the year and also raising money for a good cause.

It's all part of Author to Bookseller, an event put on by the local outfits that make up the St. Louis Independent Bookstore Alliance where local authors will be hand-selling their favorite books at their favorite local bookstore. While I'm doing my shift at LBB, a percentage of sales will go to Growing American Youth, a great organization for LGBTQ youth in the St. Louis area.

So what's not to love? I'll tell you what's not to love, though: forgetting someone on your Christmas list. You don't want to be that person, do you? Of course you don't. So come trade your money for some really good books.

Don we now our gay apparel

I love the holidays. Hey, don't be so surprised. I know I haven't put up a tree in years—and I may affect a bah-humbug disposition at the best of times—but I love a lot of things about this time of year: visiting family, the cold weather, the seemingly endless parade of food and drinks; and the sense of anticipation.

In keeping with that sense of anticipation, here's something to look forward to: I'll be reading a Christmas story (with a sort of gay twist—but then, that describes a lot of my work) at 7 p.m. this December 15 at the St. Louis Artists' Guild. I'm a member of their Literary Arts Section and will be joining my fellow members Chris Bauer, Jeff Howe, Gail Marshall, John Newmark, Matt Quinn, and Jenifer Wallace as we read prose and poetry in keeping with the spirit of the season. And by the way, it's free.

Want details? Of course you do. And you'll find them all right over here….

Whoosh

"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."

At the moment, I think I know how Douglas Adams may have felt when he said that. I have to admit, though, I'm not a big fan of the sound.

I don't like not doing what I promised to do, but as the year comes to a close, I have a deadline coming up on December 1, a deadine that I missed nearly a month ago (for which I thankfully got an extension), and another deadline on December 31. Fortunately, I've started on all of these projects—as well as a story that's not due until March, and wouldn't you know, that's the one that's coming along the easiest.

Figures.

The nice thing about deadlines ("Wait," I hear you say, "there's something nice about deadlines?" Yes, there really is; trust me) is that I'm being forced to work on my discipline. If you're one of the three regular readers of my blog, you've probably heard me talk about discipline—usually referring to it as the thing I have very little of. That said, thanks to a long Thanksgiving weekend, I've been writing regularly every day. I've been using my typewriter because it seems to inspire a more consistent pace for me; plus, the tangible pleasure of seeing a stack of pages pile up on the desk next to me is something I'll always enjoy. The story I should have finished a month ago is more than halfway done (well, the first draft, at least), and I'm hoping to get the rest of it finished today. Then it's back to book #2 for a while.

I love what I do. I wish there were more time in the day to do it.

Books! Beer! Tonight! (What's not to love?)

At the risk of repeating myself, I'm going to repeat myself. Tonight (that's Monday, Nov. 21 at 6 p.m., folks) is the book launch party for Detours at The Civil Life Brewing Co. Come watch me not throw up while reading in public! Don't have a copy yet? Someone from the fabulous Left Bank Books will be there to help you solve that problem! I just went out and bought three really nice pens (I also accidentally, um, borrowed one from the waitress at our restaurant on Saturday night) so that I can sign copies. That means at least four people need to show up so I can use each one at least once!

Oh, and did I mention beer? Jake makes some of the best beer I've had in this town, and for the first fifty people who show up, the first pint's on me! Yes, really. So buy a book so I can afford to pay for all that beer. And if twenty-five people show up? Two pints each!

Books and beer, two of my favorite things. The only thing that would make it better is you being there!

You take the good, you take the bad….

So, last week I went to a networking event called Out in the City at Mandarin in the West End. It was a meet and greet for young LGBT professionals—of course, I think I'm only two of those things (I'll leave it to you to decide which two). It was for a good cause: the $5 admission went to support the LGBT Center of St. Louis.

Remind me never to do that again.

It will probably not come as a surprise to you that I do not do well in crowds of people where I don't know anyone. (That's a nice way of saying "paralyzing shyness.") After chatting with the one person I knew who wasn't yet deeply engrossed in conversation (I also hate interrupting other people), I went out onto the balcony which had a fantastic view of Maryland Plaza where a dog was barking animatedly at the jumping fountain. I wish I'd had my camera, it was so cute. Thankfully, it was also freezing cold so no one could see me sweating profusely.

After beating a hasty retreat, I went down to Left Bank Books to pick up a copy of Rin Tin Tin by Susan Orlean, who will be reading at the St. Louis International Film Festival this Friday. I also found a graphic novel on the goddess Athena, which I bought for research purposes. (Yes, really.) And then, because I can't resist, I went over to the gay fiction shelf to look at all the books they had by my friends—lots of books by Greg Herren and Rob Byrnes, and several by Timothy James Beck (a four-person collective of whom I know half, Tim and Becky).

And there, tucked in between, was a copy of Detours.

So I took it to the front and asked if I could sign it. The lady behind the counter handed me a Sharpie and I signed my first copy of my book.

And now I really believe this is happening.