Adam Wasserman's Blog: Strictly Voluntory, page 7
November 14, 2012
This is Control. Are you Feeling Unwell?
I'm currently working on a sequel to my last novel, a science fiction piece by the name of Thank You For Your Cooperation. This is the second in what will eventually become a three part series. This installment is called "Your Call is Important to Us".
What follows is a snippet from what has since been yanked from the text. Still, I think it conveys the general feel of the story rather well.
---------
Barney Max was in a terrible panic. He rushed about his room, hoisting belongings into the air and putting them back down again without even so much as a glance.
“I'm on the List!”
Even through the thick, pleasant haze induced by the Romexior, the fact had not been lost on him. And now that the drug had worn off, the usual reaction was settling in.
“Ahhhhh!”
Barney tripped over a box he had pulled out from under his bed and collapsed to the floor.
There were a good many perks reserved for those with a Delta security clearance. One of them was being assigned a private apartment. Barney Max had a single room all to himself in Chateau Bon Tidings, an apartment complex in the upper part of N sector.
Another perk was that he could take his helpbot, Chops, out with him in public. Helpbots were available at an exorbitant price on the black market, but you couldn't parade around with one unless you were cleared to have it.
“Can I help out with anything, sir?” Chops asked. He was plugged into his charging station, but Barney had forgot to turn him off.
Barney muttered something unintelligible in reply.
A crisp, mechanical voice suddenly flooded the air. “GREETINGS CITIZEN BARNEY. THIS IS CONTROL. ARE YOU FEELING UNWELL?”
Barney's head shot up, eyes bugging from their sockets. The security camera above his bed had come to life and was aimed in his direction. “Everything's fine,” he peeped. “Why?”
“BECAUSE YOU ARE LYING ON THE FLOOR.”
“It's comfortable here,” he stammered.
“MOST HUMANS PREFER TO LIE IN THEIR BEDS.”
“The floor is better for my back.”
“I SEE. AS YOU KNOW DUE TO INCREASED TERRORIST ACTIVITY THERE IS A SHORTAGE OF BEDS IN THE BUNKER. I WILL SEND SOMEONE FROM HOUSING AND CONSTRUCTION TO RETRIEVE YOURS SO IT CAN BE PUT TO MORE EFFICIENT USE.”
“Great,” Barney squeaked, trying to sound as agreeable as he could.
The buzzer sounded.
“Someone's at the door!” Chops announced cheerfully.
Barney groaned, a long, drawn-out, hopeless sound.
“AREN'T YOU GOING TO ANSWER IT?”
“I'm not prepared to entertain visitors.”
“CITIZEN BARNEY YOUR ANTISOCIAL BEHAVIOR IS TROUBLING. ARE YOU HIDING SOMETHING?”
What was there to hide? “I'm on the List.”
“JUDGING BY YOUR NOMENCLATURE AND THE SUDDEN JUMP IN BLOOD PRESSURE I PRESUME YOU MEAN THE THOUSAND MOST WANTED LIST.”
“Yes,” Barney yelped and swallowed thickly. Suddenly, a flood of words gushed forth. “I've always been a loyal citizen! My work at United Technologies has met with nothing but approval. You chose to elevate me to the Delta security clearance!”
“YOU ARE A HARD WORKING CITIZEN BARNEY MAX BUT UNFORTUNATELY NOT A TRUSTWORTHY ONE.”
Tears began streaming down Barney's cheek.
The buzzer sounded again.
“CITIZEN VALERIE LEPRETRE WISHES TO GAIN ENTRY TO YOUR LIVING QUARTERS. MY DATA INDICATE THAT YOU HAVE A UNIQUE AND LASTING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER. SHALL I LET HER IN?”
Without waiting for an answer, there came a soft click and the door cracked open.
Oh, poor Valerie, he thought. She doesn't know what she's walking into.
“Hi, Barney,” came the familiar, somewhat elderly voice. Valerie's keen eyes showed in the widening crack between the door and its frame. But when they spotted Barney lying prostrate on the floor and the red light glowing furiously under the security camera, she blanched. “Oh, I see you're busy! I'll come back some other time.”
The door slammed shut.
“What have I done to deserve this?” Barney managed to blurt out between the sobs.
“THE INFORMATION YOU ARE REQUESTING IS NOT AVAILABLE AT YOUR SECURITY CLEARANCE.”
Barney shook his head and pounded the floor with his fists. “They should have arrested me at the checkpoint!” How could he live like this, always wondering if the next moment would be hist last?
“IF YOU ARE REFERRING TO THE GUARDIANS FROM DEFENSE STATIONED AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE RICHARD M NIXON SPACEPORT G-SECTOR THEN YOU ARE MISTAKEN. ACCORDING TO MY RECORDS THEY BEHAVED WITH THE UTMOST ATTENTION TO THE GUIDELINES.”
“If I'm on the List, I should have been apprehended. Is it current policy to allow dangerous criminals free reign of the Bunker?” He buried his face in his outstretched arm and rolled his eyes.
“I DO NOT APPRECIATE YOUR PHISHING AROUND FOR UNAUTHORIZED INFORMATION.”
Barney didn't quite agree that an interest in threats to his personal wellbeing should be left to someone else. However, despite his frantic state, he was wise enough not to say it.
“The least you can do is tell me when they'll come for me. Surely, you can do that, Control.”
The firm, somewhat menacing response came swiftly. “I NOR THE REST OF THE BUNKER OWE YOU ANYTHING. LET US BE CLEAR: YOU CITIZEN BARNEY ARE A TRAITOR. EVEN IF YOU WERE NOT THE NARCISSISM EVIDENT IN YOUR LAST STATEMENT WOULD GIVE PAUSE FOR ANALYSIS. HOWEVER IT HAS NOT ESCAPED MY ATTENTION THAT FOR SOME REASON YOU ARE AGITATED. I SHALL THEREFORE CHOOSE TO IGNORE THE OFFENSE. IT WOULD BE UNWISE TO LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.”
Barney let out another self-pitying moan.
“PERHAPS A SHORT BUT AGRESSIVE REGIMEN OF THALOTIN WOULD HELP STABALIZE YOUR PHYSIOLOGY.” There was slight pause before Control said, “CONGRATULATIONS CITIZEN BARNEY MAX! YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO PARTICIPATE IN THE LATEST ROUND OF MENTAL FITNESS EXAMS TO BE ISSUED IN N-SECTOR. ALL PARTICIPANTS HAVE BEEN CHOSEN RANDOMLY. REST ASSURED THAT YOUR MENTAL STABILITY OR LACK OF IT WILL HELP THOUSANDS IN THEIR QUEST FOR NEGLIGIBLE ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT AND OPTIMAL MARKET EFFICIENCY.”
Inwardly, Barney frowned. The suspicion that was the hallmark of self-preservation in the Bunker suddenly inserted itself into his tiny, bruised world.
If he was to be the victim of some unfortunate coincidence, a quirk of happenstance or the sudden variation of Fortune, he wouldn't resist. Maybe he'd whine and whimper, but when they came to drag him away into the murky depths of the nearest Homeland Security neighborhood substation, he'd go willingly.
But if someone was trying to set him up –
Well, that would be a different story entirely.
“I SEE YOU ARE FEELING BETTER.”
Barney wiped his eyes with his fists and looked around. His room was a mess.
“A REPRESENTATIVE FROM HUMAN RESOURCES WILL CONTACT YOU SHORTLY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION. THAT WILL BE ALL.”
“Thank you, Control.”
The red light under the security camera winked out.
What follows is a snippet from what has since been yanked from the text. Still, I think it conveys the general feel of the story rather well.
---------
Barney Max was in a terrible panic. He rushed about his room, hoisting belongings into the air and putting them back down again without even so much as a glance.
“I'm on the List!”
Even through the thick, pleasant haze induced by the Romexior, the fact had not been lost on him. And now that the drug had worn off, the usual reaction was settling in.
“Ahhhhh!”
Barney tripped over a box he had pulled out from under his bed and collapsed to the floor.
There were a good many perks reserved for those with a Delta security clearance. One of them was being assigned a private apartment. Barney Max had a single room all to himself in Chateau Bon Tidings, an apartment complex in the upper part of N sector.
Another perk was that he could take his helpbot, Chops, out with him in public. Helpbots were available at an exorbitant price on the black market, but you couldn't parade around with one unless you were cleared to have it.
“Can I help out with anything, sir?” Chops asked. He was plugged into his charging station, but Barney had forgot to turn him off.
Barney muttered something unintelligible in reply.
A crisp, mechanical voice suddenly flooded the air. “GREETINGS CITIZEN BARNEY. THIS IS CONTROL. ARE YOU FEELING UNWELL?”
Barney's head shot up, eyes bugging from their sockets. The security camera above his bed had come to life and was aimed in his direction. “Everything's fine,” he peeped. “Why?”
“BECAUSE YOU ARE LYING ON THE FLOOR.”
“It's comfortable here,” he stammered.
“MOST HUMANS PREFER TO LIE IN THEIR BEDS.”
“The floor is better for my back.”
“I SEE. AS YOU KNOW DUE TO INCREASED TERRORIST ACTIVITY THERE IS A SHORTAGE OF BEDS IN THE BUNKER. I WILL SEND SOMEONE FROM HOUSING AND CONSTRUCTION TO RETRIEVE YOURS SO IT CAN BE PUT TO MORE EFFICIENT USE.”
“Great,” Barney squeaked, trying to sound as agreeable as he could.
The buzzer sounded.
“Someone's at the door!” Chops announced cheerfully.
Barney groaned, a long, drawn-out, hopeless sound.
“AREN'T YOU GOING TO ANSWER IT?”
“I'm not prepared to entertain visitors.”
“CITIZEN BARNEY YOUR ANTISOCIAL BEHAVIOR IS TROUBLING. ARE YOU HIDING SOMETHING?”
What was there to hide? “I'm on the List.”
“JUDGING BY YOUR NOMENCLATURE AND THE SUDDEN JUMP IN BLOOD PRESSURE I PRESUME YOU MEAN THE THOUSAND MOST WANTED LIST.”
“Yes,” Barney yelped and swallowed thickly. Suddenly, a flood of words gushed forth. “I've always been a loyal citizen! My work at United Technologies has met with nothing but approval. You chose to elevate me to the Delta security clearance!”
“YOU ARE A HARD WORKING CITIZEN BARNEY MAX BUT UNFORTUNATELY NOT A TRUSTWORTHY ONE.”
Tears began streaming down Barney's cheek.
The buzzer sounded again.
“CITIZEN VALERIE LEPRETRE WISHES TO GAIN ENTRY TO YOUR LIVING QUARTERS. MY DATA INDICATE THAT YOU HAVE A UNIQUE AND LASTING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER. SHALL I LET HER IN?”
Without waiting for an answer, there came a soft click and the door cracked open.
Oh, poor Valerie, he thought. She doesn't know what she's walking into.
“Hi, Barney,” came the familiar, somewhat elderly voice. Valerie's keen eyes showed in the widening crack between the door and its frame. But when they spotted Barney lying prostrate on the floor and the red light glowing furiously under the security camera, she blanched. “Oh, I see you're busy! I'll come back some other time.”
The door slammed shut.
“What have I done to deserve this?” Barney managed to blurt out between the sobs.
“THE INFORMATION YOU ARE REQUESTING IS NOT AVAILABLE AT YOUR SECURITY CLEARANCE.”
Barney shook his head and pounded the floor with his fists. “They should have arrested me at the checkpoint!” How could he live like this, always wondering if the next moment would be hist last?
“IF YOU ARE REFERRING TO THE GUARDIANS FROM DEFENSE STATIONED AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE RICHARD M NIXON SPACEPORT G-SECTOR THEN YOU ARE MISTAKEN. ACCORDING TO MY RECORDS THEY BEHAVED WITH THE UTMOST ATTENTION TO THE GUIDELINES.”
“If I'm on the List, I should have been apprehended. Is it current policy to allow dangerous criminals free reign of the Bunker?” He buried his face in his outstretched arm and rolled his eyes.
“I DO NOT APPRECIATE YOUR PHISHING AROUND FOR UNAUTHORIZED INFORMATION.”
Barney didn't quite agree that an interest in threats to his personal wellbeing should be left to someone else. However, despite his frantic state, he was wise enough not to say it.
“The least you can do is tell me when they'll come for me. Surely, you can do that, Control.”
The firm, somewhat menacing response came swiftly. “I NOR THE REST OF THE BUNKER OWE YOU ANYTHING. LET US BE CLEAR: YOU CITIZEN BARNEY ARE A TRAITOR. EVEN IF YOU WERE NOT THE NARCISSISM EVIDENT IN YOUR LAST STATEMENT WOULD GIVE PAUSE FOR ANALYSIS. HOWEVER IT HAS NOT ESCAPED MY ATTENTION THAT FOR SOME REASON YOU ARE AGITATED. I SHALL THEREFORE CHOOSE TO IGNORE THE OFFENSE. IT WOULD BE UNWISE TO LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.”
Barney let out another self-pitying moan.
“PERHAPS A SHORT BUT AGRESSIVE REGIMEN OF THALOTIN WOULD HELP STABALIZE YOUR PHYSIOLOGY.” There was slight pause before Control said, “CONGRATULATIONS CITIZEN BARNEY MAX! YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO PARTICIPATE IN THE LATEST ROUND OF MENTAL FITNESS EXAMS TO BE ISSUED IN N-SECTOR. ALL PARTICIPANTS HAVE BEEN CHOSEN RANDOMLY. REST ASSURED THAT YOUR MENTAL STABILITY OR LACK OF IT WILL HELP THOUSANDS IN THEIR QUEST FOR NEGLIGIBLE ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT AND OPTIMAL MARKET EFFICIENCY.”
Inwardly, Barney frowned. The suspicion that was the hallmark of self-preservation in the Bunker suddenly inserted itself into his tiny, bruised world.
If he was to be the victim of some unfortunate coincidence, a quirk of happenstance or the sudden variation of Fortune, he wouldn't resist. Maybe he'd whine and whimper, but when they came to drag him away into the murky depths of the nearest Homeland Security neighborhood substation, he'd go willingly.
But if someone was trying to set him up –
Well, that would be a different story entirely.
“I SEE YOU ARE FEELING BETTER.”
Barney wiped his eyes with his fists and looked around. His room was a mess.
“A REPRESENTATIVE FROM HUMAN RESOURCES WILL CONTACT YOU SHORTLY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION. THAT WILL BE ALL.”
“Thank you, Control.”
The red light under the security camera winked out.
October 13, 2012
Writing Is A River Flowing
Good writing is what happens when the right energies are flowing. Of course, energies are always flowing, and how well they do so is a measure of our true health and happiness. Still, when we endeavor to write, we anticipate a certain outcome: words building up across the screen on our favorite text editor. Even more to the point, we want to be satisfied with what they say.
It's easy to type words into a keyboard. Well, sometimes it's not, but that's the subject of a different post.
I've always found that when writing feels the best, I'm merely an observer. In fact, I'm hardly even there. I've given up awareness of the outside world and the control of my hands. That's why I believe that good writing is simply a by-product, that we must first cultivate the relevant energies. More importantly, we must not let our minds stand in the way. Especially during that raw, initial outpouring, the ego has no place. We must not interfere.
Without that initial outpouring, there can be no story of value. Which is why creative writing is so different than, say, speech writing, or most forms of non-fiction.
Naturally, we may wish to channel the creative energies in a certain direction or be selective about their wellspring. But once the energies are flowing and we are writing, it is best to simply step aside and let them do their work.
It's only afterward when we can pour a glass of wine and settle back to review what we've actually written that we can also step back into ourselves. Kind of like a passing observer to a car crash that happened just before we turned the corner, or someone else's random act of kindness.
Because I believe we can't really take credit for creativity. That comes from somewhere else, and the Story of Me has little - if anything - to do with it.
It's easy to type words into a keyboard. Well, sometimes it's not, but that's the subject of a different post.
I've always found that when writing feels the best, I'm merely an observer. In fact, I'm hardly even there. I've given up awareness of the outside world and the control of my hands. That's why I believe that good writing is simply a by-product, that we must first cultivate the relevant energies. More importantly, we must not let our minds stand in the way. Especially during that raw, initial outpouring, the ego has no place. We must not interfere.
Without that initial outpouring, there can be no story of value. Which is why creative writing is so different than, say, speech writing, or most forms of non-fiction.
Naturally, we may wish to channel the creative energies in a certain direction or be selective about their wellspring. But once the energies are flowing and we are writing, it is best to simply step aside and let them do their work.
It's only afterward when we can pour a glass of wine and settle back to review what we've actually written that we can also step back into ourselves. Kind of like a passing observer to a car crash that happened just before we turned the corner, or someone else's random act of kindness.
Because I believe we can't really take credit for creativity. That comes from somewhere else, and the Story of Me has little - if anything - to do with it.
September 17, 2012
Knowing When to Finish
Have you ever given up on a novel, play, or some other literary project and felt badly about it afterward? Maybe you believe you wasted your time, or perhaps the whole venture smacks of failure. If so, there is nothing to be ashamed of. It's the experience of a healthy writer to try out new ideas, some of which just aren't destined to make it to the shelves.
I rarely start out with the assumption that the piece I'm working on will actually be finished. In fact, I'm not usually thinking about the end of a project as I start it. Writing is a process of exploration. Often, the end is a shadowy, mysterious place far off in the distance. There are times we will abandon the enterprise before we ever actually see it.
The process of writing each piece is as unique as the work itself. My last novel, Thank You For Your Cooperation, was the easiest to write. It just flowed onto paper without much intervention on my part. However, its predecessor, Gyges the Terrible, took four years to write and had two distinct incarnations. I wrote three whole chapters which got thrown away a year after I started. Once the actual manuscript was being produced, half way through I altered some key elements of the story and had to go back and rewrite much of what I had already written. Likewise, my first novel, The Grey Life, was completely rewritten several years after I had completed the original draft.
And here I listed only the completed novels, the ones you can find on Goodreads. What about all the other, countless starts which never saw a satisfying completion?
Hardly a waste of time. Often, the ideas, structure, and tricks we explore in unfinished works get transferred to those that actually make it into the light of day. The original seeds for a particular character might have been planted in such a way. The process allows us to refine our original thoughts, turning them into a more potent force in a completed story.
So how do we know when to finish? Well, I believe the simplest answer is that it's a feeling. At some point in the lifetime of a literary project, we just know. We carry its development far enough along and we are interested enough in what we're creating that the realization simply comes. There is no control over the timing of this revelation; it comes to us on its own. Or it doesn't.
How long should we play this game of literary chicken? If you have a tendency to be stubborn, you could be working against yourself. During the whole process of creation, it's important to constantly evaluate your progress. And part of that evaluation (especially in the first phases) is whether the whole enterprise is worth completing in the first place. My experience is that you know the answer to this question in your heart. Logic only works against you here.
So, on that note, I want to wish all you active writers out there good luck with your projects. And if it should turn out that you put yours away before getting to the last sentence, then please, do not fret! Take what's salvageable, leave the rest behind, and on to the next project!
I rarely start out with the assumption that the piece I'm working on will actually be finished. In fact, I'm not usually thinking about the end of a project as I start it. Writing is a process of exploration. Often, the end is a shadowy, mysterious place far off in the distance. There are times we will abandon the enterprise before we ever actually see it.
The process of writing each piece is as unique as the work itself. My last novel, Thank You For Your Cooperation, was the easiest to write. It just flowed onto paper without much intervention on my part. However, its predecessor, Gyges the Terrible, took four years to write and had two distinct incarnations. I wrote three whole chapters which got thrown away a year after I started. Once the actual manuscript was being produced, half way through I altered some key elements of the story and had to go back and rewrite much of what I had already written. Likewise, my first novel, The Grey Life, was completely rewritten several years after I had completed the original draft.
And here I listed only the completed novels, the ones you can find on Goodreads. What about all the other, countless starts which never saw a satisfying completion?
Hardly a waste of time. Often, the ideas, structure, and tricks we explore in unfinished works get transferred to those that actually make it into the light of day. The original seeds for a particular character might have been planted in such a way. The process allows us to refine our original thoughts, turning them into a more potent force in a completed story.
So how do we know when to finish? Well, I believe the simplest answer is that it's a feeling. At some point in the lifetime of a literary project, we just know. We carry its development far enough along and we are interested enough in what we're creating that the realization simply comes. There is no control over the timing of this revelation; it comes to us on its own. Or it doesn't.
How long should we play this game of literary chicken? If you have a tendency to be stubborn, you could be working against yourself. During the whole process of creation, it's important to constantly evaluate your progress. And part of that evaluation (especially in the first phases) is whether the whole enterprise is worth completing in the first place. My experience is that you know the answer to this question in your heart. Logic only works against you here.
So, on that note, I want to wish all you active writers out there good luck with your projects. And if it should turn out that you put yours away before getting to the last sentence, then please, do not fret! Take what's salvageable, leave the rest behind, and on to the next project!
September 4, 2012
End of a Summer
Well, folks, the summer is drawing to a close. The green on the trees is already tarnished by fall colors. The nights are cooler. Tropical storms are making it unwise to continue to swim in the sea.
I can't say it's with some regret that I return to Amsterdam and the rainy, harvest-time weather. The number of hours in the day is dwindling. By the end of December, if there are clouds in the sky in Amsterdam, it seems like day never comes.
Still, there is a time and a place for everything. For example, here in Rhode Island during the summer months, I swam the length of the beaches and promoted my two dystopian, sci-fi titles. At first, I thought I'd concentrate mostly on my last work, Thank You For Your Cooperation. However, I took Gyges the Terrible along for the ride as well, and as it turned out, it sold just as successfully.
Looking back, I can say that although I'm glad I spent so much time getting my books on the shelves in bookstores, it was acting as a vendor at public events interacting directly with readers that was the most enjoyable and rewarding experience. Next year, I will focus most of my time and resources on finding places to set up my tent.
As for Amsterdam, it will be great to settle back into my own apartment and hang out with the friends I left behind. Also, those dark, dreary days have a useful quality that I neglected to mention before: I usually fill them by writing. And it's a very convenient truth, too.
I wasn't going to say anything, but now that I'm wrapping up this post, I'm thinking, why not? I've started a sequel to Thank You For Your Cooperation. And I'm laughing already!
A hearty thank you to all the friends, readers, and well-wishers who made this summer such a great success!
Have a great fall and winter, folks. See you next year!
I can't say it's with some regret that I return to Amsterdam and the rainy, harvest-time weather. The number of hours in the day is dwindling. By the end of December, if there are clouds in the sky in Amsterdam, it seems like day never comes.
Still, there is a time and a place for everything. For example, here in Rhode Island during the summer months, I swam the length of the beaches and promoted my two dystopian, sci-fi titles. At first, I thought I'd concentrate mostly on my last work, Thank You For Your Cooperation. However, I took Gyges the Terrible along for the ride as well, and as it turned out, it sold just as successfully.
Looking back, I can say that although I'm glad I spent so much time getting my books on the shelves in bookstores, it was acting as a vendor at public events interacting directly with readers that was the most enjoyable and rewarding experience. Next year, I will focus most of my time and resources on finding places to set up my tent.
As for Amsterdam, it will be great to settle back into my own apartment and hang out with the friends I left behind. Also, those dark, dreary days have a useful quality that I neglected to mention before: I usually fill them by writing. And it's a very convenient truth, too.
I wasn't going to say anything, but now that I'm wrapping up this post, I'm thinking, why not? I've started a sequel to Thank You For Your Cooperation. And I'm laughing already!
A hearty thank you to all the friends, readers, and well-wishers who made this summer such a great success!
Have a great fall and winter, folks. See you next year!
August 20, 2012
A Tent and a Table
I've got books on shelves in stores. It's an important development, and I appreciate all the receptive personnel I met along the way. But...
That word was hanging for a while in the back of my head. But so what? I mean, it's great to have books on shelves in stores, but success requires more than availability. I'd need to engage. Person-to-person contact. One-on-one dialog.
And wouldn't you know it? My first taste of this sort of tete-a-tete, during the book signing at Symposium Books on July 14th, was surprisingly sweet if too shortlived.
So now I'm going directly to the people! This coming Thursday, August 23rd, I'll have a table at the Main Street Stroll in East Greenwich, RI. Two days later, I'll be putting up a tent to cover my table for the Summit Music Festival at Lippitt Park in Providence.
I'm excited! Why? Well, let's be honest. Writing books or painting on canvas or engaging in any other art form has little - if anything - to do with other people. The artist does it to scratch an itch, so to speak. He has to or he'll go mad.
On the other hand, some of us enjoy being social, too. I can't speak for anyone else, but what pleases me about engaging potential readers is that I can catch a glimpse of who is out there and what makes them tick. The interaction also serves as a reminder that it's safe and healthy to be a complete weirdo - and strangely uncomfortable if you want to pretend to yourself and everyone around you that you're not.
Sure, I could sit in a bar, but the experience doesn't offer the same advantages. Someone who approaches me at my table loaded with books already has some kind of interest in who I am as an artist. Sitting at a stool behind a bar, I'm just another of fifty other patrons you'd rather not be talking to as you try and get the bartender's attention.
That word was hanging for a while in the back of my head. But so what? I mean, it's great to have books on shelves in stores, but success requires more than availability. I'd need to engage. Person-to-person contact. One-on-one dialog.
And wouldn't you know it? My first taste of this sort of tete-a-tete, during the book signing at Symposium Books on July 14th, was surprisingly sweet if too shortlived.
So now I'm going directly to the people! This coming Thursday, August 23rd, I'll have a table at the Main Street Stroll in East Greenwich, RI. Two days later, I'll be putting up a tent to cover my table for the Summit Music Festival at Lippitt Park in Providence.
I'm excited! Why? Well, let's be honest. Writing books or painting on canvas or engaging in any other art form has little - if anything - to do with other people. The artist does it to scratch an itch, so to speak. He has to or he'll go mad.
On the other hand, some of us enjoy being social, too. I can't speak for anyone else, but what pleases me about engaging potential readers is that I can catch a glimpse of who is out there and what makes them tick. The interaction also serves as a reminder that it's safe and healthy to be a complete weirdo - and strangely uncomfortable if you want to pretend to yourself and everyone around you that you're not.
Sure, I could sit in a bar, but the experience doesn't offer the same advantages. Someone who approaches me at my table loaded with books already has some kind of interest in who I am as an artist. Sitting at a stool behind a bar, I'm just another of fifty other patrons you'd rather not be talking to as you try and get the bartender's attention.
July 30, 2012
Truckin' Thru NYC
Today, I spent a wonderful day trekking through Manhattan looking for new venues for my books, Thank You For Your Cooperation and Gyges the Terrible. Inevitably, my search took me to Greenwich Village. What better place than that eclectic mix of bookstores and the readers they serve?
Granted, New York City felt like more challenging terrain than Providence or Boston. After all, the streets of New York are abundant with talent. Writers proliferate in the many corner cafes and smoky backrooms. Some of them are famous. What could I possibly be seeking there?
The first place in Greenwich Village I stopped in at - a quaint little place called Three Lives & Co. - seemed to confirm my suspicions. They politely suggested I move on, but not without pointing out I might have better luck at St. Mark's Bookshop. I was told they had the space and the interest in books from smaller publishers.
And they were right! St. Mark's Bookshop (31 3rd. Ave) has a great feel. Their space is open and comfortable, and they've arranged their bookshelves like an arrowhead, all pointing towards the cozy nook at the back where they keep their science fiction. The air is crisp and clean and the contents of their shelves neat and organized. They took copies of both books on consignment. If you're in the area, take a look and thumb through a copy!
Now, I don't want to play favorites. It's never a wise idea. But I have to say, the other store that took copies of my books - Mercer St. Books and Records - was more to my taste. After all, if you were ever to see my apartment, you'd inevitably remark on how disorderly it is. Mercer St. Books and Records is one of those bookstores where you could spend time searching through the inventory and find some real gems, books that you probably wouldn't find in the more mainstream locales. But you'd have to put some effort in! Wood-panelled walls house the shelves, some crammed to the hilt while others are taking a breather. As you get further into the back away from the windows, the lighting gets spottier, the air more mysterious.
Did you ever see the Name of the Rose? Remember how the books in the library were stacked in piles here and there randomly against the walls? Remember how excited William of Baskerville became? What treasures were there to be found?
Well, Mercer St. Books and Records is a place to evoke such emotions. And there isn't any mad, murderous monk out to kill laughter and hide books, so there's no need to worry about walking out just as you went in. I highly recommend it!
Granted, New York City felt like more challenging terrain than Providence or Boston. After all, the streets of New York are abundant with talent. Writers proliferate in the many corner cafes and smoky backrooms. Some of them are famous. What could I possibly be seeking there?
The first place in Greenwich Village I stopped in at - a quaint little place called Three Lives & Co. - seemed to confirm my suspicions. They politely suggested I move on, but not without pointing out I might have better luck at St. Mark's Bookshop. I was told they had the space and the interest in books from smaller publishers.
And they were right! St. Mark's Bookshop (31 3rd. Ave) has a great feel. Their space is open and comfortable, and they've arranged their bookshelves like an arrowhead, all pointing towards the cozy nook at the back where they keep their science fiction. The air is crisp and clean and the contents of their shelves neat and organized. They took copies of both books on consignment. If you're in the area, take a look and thumb through a copy!
Now, I don't want to play favorites. It's never a wise idea. But I have to say, the other store that took copies of my books - Mercer St. Books and Records - was more to my taste. After all, if you were ever to see my apartment, you'd inevitably remark on how disorderly it is. Mercer St. Books and Records is one of those bookstores where you could spend time searching through the inventory and find some real gems, books that you probably wouldn't find in the more mainstream locales. But you'd have to put some effort in! Wood-panelled walls house the shelves, some crammed to the hilt while others are taking a breather. As you get further into the back away from the windows, the lighting gets spottier, the air more mysterious.
Did you ever see the Name of the Rose? Remember how the books in the library were stacked in piles here and there randomly against the walls? Remember how excited William of Baskerville became? What treasures were there to be found?
Well, Mercer St. Books and Records is a place to evoke such emotions. And there isn't any mad, murderous monk out to kill laughter and hide books, so there's no need to worry about walking out just as you went in. I highly recommend it!
July 26, 2012
Unnecessary Government Spending
I've tried to keep my web persona politically neutral. But, truth be told, I love politics. It's like a game, although sometimes with deadly consequences. It's easy to forget that part of the reason republics were invented in the first place was to remove the incentive to kill your political opponents. After all, chances are pretty good you'll win an election eventually, provided you are taken seriously enough.
Maybe politics in the United States has always born a shade of the ridiculous. It's hard to tell when all you do is learn about it at school. The history books are so dry and boring. Still, regardless of what antics our ancestors resorted to in order to win elections, the political climate today is just rife with idiocy.
For example, when people walk into movie theaters and shoot others at random, you should only blame yourself for allowing them to purchase their weapons legally. It's as simple as that. If you feel that people should be able to purchase guns for recreational use, you should also accept that some (very few, crazy idiots) might have a frighteningly different view of what's fun than you do. Or, if you feel you need guns to protect yourself, please try and recognize you're just feeding into a vicious circle of violence and fear. My advice to you: try and break free. There are no bogeymen hanging out in your closet with a hockey mask on. That was a movie. Not real. Get it?
Another example is this strange, somewhat perverted belief doing the rounds that the government isn't good for anything except supporting a bloated military. Apparently, for these people, it's a crime to spend tax dollars to pave roads or help improve the quality of education (or even providing access to it, in some cases) or alleviate the incredible poverty that's an unfortunate side effect of our corporate, crony capitalist economy. However, it is okay to spend half a trillion dollars interfering in countries half way around the world in order to secure the natural resources that enable us to live a quality a life that is - in the long run - unsustainable, especially if everyone else wants to share in it.
These people seem to think that they are individuals. I'm not entirely sure what this means, but apparently it has something to do with avoiding responsibility to everyone else around you for the consequences of your actions and lifestyle. After all, isn't it always the jerk with the big American flag on his oversize, gun rack toting pickup truck who's driving like a maniac on the freeway, running people off the road? After all, he's an individual. He wants to drive like that, darn it! It's his God given, American right!
This coming presidential election is extremely important, because it really does present a stark choice between two visions of our future. One will probably help our GDP in the short term but wipe out the middle class in the long term. We'll go back to the rule of the strong man, the one that we fantasize about in the time of the Wild West, except it will apply to everybody. Or, we can build a progressive society, one that is sustainable and that serves most of the needs of everyone, that provides opportunity to all without allowing a very few to hoard untold wealth for their own selfish profit at the expense of the general good.
Maybe politics in the United States has always born a shade of the ridiculous. It's hard to tell when all you do is learn about it at school. The history books are so dry and boring. Still, regardless of what antics our ancestors resorted to in order to win elections, the political climate today is just rife with idiocy.
For example, when people walk into movie theaters and shoot others at random, you should only blame yourself for allowing them to purchase their weapons legally. It's as simple as that. If you feel that people should be able to purchase guns for recreational use, you should also accept that some (very few, crazy idiots) might have a frighteningly different view of what's fun than you do. Or, if you feel you need guns to protect yourself, please try and recognize you're just feeding into a vicious circle of violence and fear. My advice to you: try and break free. There are no bogeymen hanging out in your closet with a hockey mask on. That was a movie. Not real. Get it?
Another example is this strange, somewhat perverted belief doing the rounds that the government isn't good for anything except supporting a bloated military. Apparently, for these people, it's a crime to spend tax dollars to pave roads or help improve the quality of education (or even providing access to it, in some cases) or alleviate the incredible poverty that's an unfortunate side effect of our corporate, crony capitalist economy. However, it is okay to spend half a trillion dollars interfering in countries half way around the world in order to secure the natural resources that enable us to live a quality a life that is - in the long run - unsustainable, especially if everyone else wants to share in it.
These people seem to think that they are individuals. I'm not entirely sure what this means, but apparently it has something to do with avoiding responsibility to everyone else around you for the consequences of your actions and lifestyle. After all, isn't it always the jerk with the big American flag on his oversize, gun rack toting pickup truck who's driving like a maniac on the freeway, running people off the road? After all, he's an individual. He wants to drive like that, darn it! It's his God given, American right!
This coming presidential election is extremely important, because it really does present a stark choice between two visions of our future. One will probably help our GDP in the short term but wipe out the middle class in the long term. We'll go back to the rule of the strong man, the one that we fantasize about in the time of the Wild West, except it will apply to everybody. Or, we can build a progressive society, one that is sustainable and that serves most of the needs of everyone, that provides opportunity to all without allowing a very few to hoard untold wealth for their own selfish profit at the expense of the general good.
July 19, 2012
On the Road
Because I elected to go the indie publishing route and chose Lulu as the producer of my books, stores have no way to order them from their traditional distributors. As a result, I have to approach them one by one and offer copies on consignment.
On the one hand, my books - Thank You For Your Cooperation and Gyges the Terrible - have only the reach that I physically can create for them. On the other hand, I enjoy the engagement. Talking to people who love books about the books I've created is extremely rewarding!
I started in Rhode Island, but once I ran the gamut of available, independent stores, I realized I didn't want to stop there. Today, I visited two amazing stores in Cambridge: Pandemonium Books and Harvard Book Store. Both are wonderful stores, but for two entirely different reasons.
Tucked away on a side street just off Massachusetts Avenue, Pandemonium Books is a store specializing in science fiction and gaming. They have books on shelves upstairs and a comfortable cavern downstairs where the rulebooks can be found and the tables to run the games. For me, this is a place that very much felt like home. I've been gaming a long time. In fact, as must be blatantly obvious to anyone familiar with it, Thank You For Your Cooperation was partly inspired by the world of Paranoia.
Harvard Book Store is a different animal entirely. As the name suggests, the store is located in one of the more cerebral parts of town. The clientele has sophisticated tastes to say the least. Upscale, busy, and brash, I thought it would be the perfect home for Gyges the Terrible, a meaty science fiction novel dealing with spiritual and political themes.
The results? Harvard Book Store took two copies of each. Pandemonium Books is taking a look at Thank You For Your Cooperation.
It was a great day!
On the one hand, my books - Thank You For Your Cooperation and Gyges the Terrible - have only the reach that I physically can create for them. On the other hand, I enjoy the engagement. Talking to people who love books about the books I've created is extremely rewarding!
I started in Rhode Island, but once I ran the gamut of available, independent stores, I realized I didn't want to stop there. Today, I visited two amazing stores in Cambridge: Pandemonium Books and Harvard Book Store. Both are wonderful stores, but for two entirely different reasons.
Tucked away on a side street just off Massachusetts Avenue, Pandemonium Books is a store specializing in science fiction and gaming. They have books on shelves upstairs and a comfortable cavern downstairs where the rulebooks can be found and the tables to run the games. For me, this is a place that very much felt like home. I've been gaming a long time. In fact, as must be blatantly obvious to anyone familiar with it, Thank You For Your Cooperation was partly inspired by the world of Paranoia.
Harvard Book Store is a different animal entirely. As the name suggests, the store is located in one of the more cerebral parts of town. The clientele has sophisticated tastes to say the least. Upscale, busy, and brash, I thought it would be the perfect home for Gyges the Terrible, a meaty science fiction novel dealing with spiritual and political themes.
The results? Harvard Book Store took two copies of each. Pandemonium Books is taking a look at Thank You For Your Cooperation.
It was a great day!
July 15, 2012
Great Time at Symposium Books
Well, what I came to dub as the "Meet the Author" event yesterday at Symposium Books in East Greenwich was an overwhelming success. Although I have to admit, it didn't start out that way!
When I first arrived on the scene, the store was empty and I couldn't see the staff behind the counter through some of the bookshelves. I could, however, see the clock hanging on the wall. The proverbial tumbleweed rolled on through the store between checks of the time: 2:00, then 2:04. A seemingly long while later it was 2:11.
But the staff ended up proving very friendly. Soon enough I was engaging an interesting guy named Fred who ended up picking up a copy of Gyges the Terrible. That was a very encouraging development!
Later on my friends and family showed up, and the action picked up considerably. At the end of the afternoon, some of us retreated to the Grille on Main for a (much needed) beer and food.
Many thanks to those who showed up as well as the staff at Symposium Books. I couldn't have wished for a better first ever book signing event!
When I first arrived on the scene, the store was empty and I couldn't see the staff behind the counter through some of the bookshelves. I could, however, see the clock hanging on the wall. The proverbial tumbleweed rolled on through the store between checks of the time: 2:00, then 2:04. A seemingly long while later it was 2:11.
But the staff ended up proving very friendly. Soon enough I was engaging an interesting guy named Fred who ended up picking up a copy of Gyges the Terrible. That was a very encouraging development!
Later on my friends and family showed up, and the action picked up considerably. At the end of the afternoon, some of us retreated to the Grille on Main for a (much needed) beer and food.
Many thanks to those who showed up as well as the staff at Symposium Books. I couldn't have wished for a better first ever book signing event!
June 27, 2012
Book Signing on Saturday, July 14
Well, my first book signing event ever will take place on Saturday, July 14 over at Symposium Books on Main Street in East Greenwich. It's a fantastic little bookstore with a great atmosphere and a wide selection of books. They've got a helpful and knowledgeable staff.
I'll be there from 2pm until 5pm signing my last novel, Thank You For Your Cooperation, as well as Gyges the Terrible.
If you're in town, by all means, stop by. I'd love to see you. Otherwise please send me good thoughts, because I think I'll be plenty nervous...
I'll be there from 2pm until 5pm signing my last novel, Thank You For Your Cooperation, as well as Gyges the Terrible.
If you're in town, by all means, stop by. I'd love to see you. Otherwise please send me good thoughts, because I think I'll be plenty nervous...
