Procrastinators

Four months ago I printed an article titled, “Why Writers Are the Worst Procrastinators.”  I glanced at it and thought it would make an interesting blog.  Then I pushed it aside and eventually other articles and papers got piled on top of it. 

I just started five consecutive days off with anticipation of good personal time with my wife, a few hobby projects and some volunteer time.  Today we made a brief shopping trip then we enjoyed lunch out and an afternoon movie.  When we arrived home I opened the mail, paid a bill and stared at my cluttered desk.

I work best (or least I think I do) with a relatively clean desk.  At 4:30 p.m. I cleared my desk contrary to the habits of many other writers.  This entailed throwing a few things out, neatly arrange my carry-around items that end up each day on my desk, file a few important papers and look at printed items of interest dumped on the right side of my desk.  One task placed several of my pieces of flash fiction into a notebook. 

Then I saw two articles I intended to read and use for future blog inspiration.  I read the procrastination article, decided it didn’t pertain to me and tossed it into the garbage.  Then I read the other article about the “Good Old Days.”  Another shock, it too went into the garbage. 

The essence of the “Good Old Days” turned out to be a rambling recollection of the writer’s experiences.  But I think it implied that right now is the “Good Old Days.”  It rings true for me; I have a good almost full-time job with plenty of time off, and several hobbies that fill time while filling me with personal pleasure.  I have a Facebook page of photos, a growing notebook of flash fiction, and other activities that more than fill time.  They prod me to learn more and be creative.  My second novel is almost done, an idea is floating around about a third, a friend introduced me to stone sculpting, and I attempting to revive my blog.  My son wants me to use twitter to promote my blog and Facebook photos. 

Inspiration for next hobby

So many ideas, so little time.  Got to check my meter: just used 45 minutes.

 

Even though I am working less (for a living), I also seem to be working less on the blog.  Instead my efforts are put into the next novel (one in editing now and one in embryonic stage), and doodles.

Here is a doodle.

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The first day of my transformed life

February 1 is my son’s birthday.  Details of that exact day are fuzzy, frankly I just don’t remember.  I know he was late.  That seemed to mark a trait that followed him for many years.  His mother and I are early birds so the origin of his habit puzzles us.  Anyway back to my point, “First day of my transformed life.”

Time of blog draft

Around sixteen years of age I delivered newspapers in an apartment complex for a few months.  I’d ride the elevator to the top floor (8^th I think) and use my bag to prop open the elevator door and take the appropriate morning papers and race up and down the hall placing the newspaper in front of each door. And then floor by floor make my way to the ground floor before moving off to another building.  I had four buildings on my route.  I delivered the Newark Star Ledger, NY Times, NY Daily News, Daily Forward and several other foreign language papers if my memory serves me right.  A ledger book with the apartment numbers and paper or papers to be delivered was my guide.

After that I worked in a drug store during high school, while in the local college I worked at a department store and one summer I delivered reconditioned automobile bumpers.  Then three years in the army and a return to college which forced me to take many other part time positions.  I even parked cars in mid-town Manhattan for several years.

And then another 40 years of full time work.  Fast forward to February 1, 2014.

It is now the beginning of the end.  My current position, at my request, is going from full-full time to semi-full time.  What?  I’ve cut back my work load 20%.  I’ve done it not by shortening the work day, but taking 5 days off per month.  Full days.  Most of the time I’ll take two or three days before or after a weekend.  There will be a few times during the year that I will take a solid week off and occasionally there will be a solitary day off, perhaps connected to a weekend or a holiday.  Chunks of time off rather than a little at a time is my plan.  I expect to continue this for at least two years, perhaps more. 

Today is a practice semi-work day.  See Evan early, chat about his dogs and computers, and give him a birthday gift; then off to my casual Saturday writing group.  Write in my journal, edit my book and draft this blog.  This afternoon with Iris and dinner out with the usual crew.

Tomorrow breakfast out and then at my niece’s request photograph her organizing an in-service program so she can use those photos in publicity pieces.

But man’s plans sometimes go awry.  My dream for this time in general is local travel, time with Iris and family, writing, and photographic jaunts.  Finish novel number two and rework my photo web page.  And in the words of Bob Marley, “Be happy.”  Sounds easy.  Only time will tell if this works, but I now have time. 

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Billions Sold - Almost

McDonalds Hamburgers has displayed several variations of “Billions Served” on its signage for many years.  Periodically they change the number from 50 to 100 to 257 to whatever the sign reads now.  Maybe it just says “Billions” served.  Whatever the number or verbiage, it is a tremendous number of things severed.  Was it burgers, fries or people?  Do you care?  “Billions served” just numbs the mind.

Well, I care about the number.  That phrase makes my book sales look puny and insignificant.  Even a million copy bestseller is 100,000 times smaller (check my math) than “billions served.”  I could rationalize and say that I wrote the book for my self-image or as part of some writing therapy or that my agent was on my case to produce something (that’s a lie).  Or just that I had nothing to do at night, since I don’t play poker or care about TV.  But once I got started I enjoyed it too much to stop.  I am not interested in numbers, just a good product.

The end result is that I wrote just one novel, Far from Newark, and have only sold a modest number.  In fact, I may have given away more than I sold.

My hometown of Newark NJ was listed as the un-friendliest city in 2013, it beat out Islamabad.  It really wasn’t that bad when I grew up in the 1950s and 1960s.  I think the survey was taken at Newark Airport, which probably skewed the results towards the negative side.  Current and former residents of Newark are actually quite proud of Newark.  Many famous people were born in Newark: Philip Roth, Aaron Burr, Ed Koch, Whitney Houston, Chris Christie and many others.  Newarkers even have a Facebook page, Newark N.J. Born and Raised !!  And you have to be invited to be a Friend.

The title of my book came from a saying that I had been known to use often when asked, “Where are you from?”  I get that I lot especially with my accent in San Antonio Texas.  My answer is often, “From Newark, far from.”  That phrase or variations of it appear in my book in several places and became the natural title for the book.

I am proud to say that “Far from Newark” has sold dozens.  Take that McDonalds.  Watch for the sequel, “Return.”  It should be out by the end of 2014 and I certainly intend to claim, “More than dozens sold.”   Don’t be surprised when you order my book on-line if you are asked, “Do you want fries with it?”  But for a true Newarker a sausage, pepper and onion sandwich served on an Italian roll would be much better.

Go to Amazon, Barnes and Noble or Smashwords to find my book.

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Solution to a Problem

We’ve heard the statement Men Don't Ask for Directions many times and most of us accept it as truth. And as a man I must admit I resist asking for directions unless I am absolutely, without a doubt lost with a capital L. From direct experience I know that the more times my wife tells me to get directions the likelihood that I actually will ask for directions is decreased. Bookies in Las Vegas might calculate the odds at a 1000 to 1 or greater. Any takers on this bet?

Which way honey?

Now that we have moved to acceptance that men don’t ask for directions the question becomes why it is true and how do we solve this monumental societal issue. Most people think the problem is because men have a self-image of being problem solvers and to ask for directions would indicate failure. There is a certain element of truth to that. Our image of prehistoric man is the ultimate provider, get that deer, hunt that tiger, and bring home the bacon. If he failed he and his family went hungry. But these ancient hunters probably conferred with each other to locate the best places to hunt and how to get there. They weren’t stupid, they were well motivated. They asked for directions. Either that or go hungry.

Men are proud of their accomplishments. I’ve got a bigger boat than you, my TV is 99 inches, or my computer has a “fill in the blank” feature are typical male comments. Driving is an extension of that attitude. I am a better driver than you, whoever you are. Faster, safer and I can parallel park and you can’t. I know several men who are exactly like that. They also go on more exotic vacations that anyone else. And have photos from a 100 megapixel camera to document of their exploits. Or a trophy deer head stuffed on the family room wall.

Failure can cause embarrassment and asking for directions from a gas station attendant or the clerk at convenience store is the ultimate failure. I’d rather ask Stephen Hawking how to solve a problem than Joe for the corner store which sale item is a better deal. I’d rather get advice from Stephen King than the clerk at Costco for a book recommendation.  Since we can't get in contact with Hawking or King we don't ask. 

I’ve read research that indicates that men and women find their way around using different mechanisms. Women navigate by landmarks: go to the Mall turn left and go down the street to the nail place etc. Men on the other hand utilize compass directions to find their way around: go north two miles on Highway 6 and then turn east on Route 12 and drive around one mile to the auto parts store and so on.

There are probably many studies and more antidotal evidence giving credence to one theory or another; Google has over 100 million hits on the question. Men not asking for directions must obviously be a pressing problem otherwise why would a Google search have such a large number of hits. In that mass of information I think I discovered the answer: Men don’t think they are lost. All typical male stereotypes lead to this conclusion. I am not lost and I will argue that I am merely taking another route to my destination.

“We are close, it is right near here.” Might be an answer given by a man as to why he doesn’t ask for directions.

Getting around is an adventure. Finding new places, driving in different neighborhoods is fun. Taking a hunting trip without going to Africa or Alaska is fun. It takes one million sperm to fertilize one egg; they are on an adventure and it was fun. Who cares if only one successfully made the entire trip?

Not asking for directions does have one big downside: it causes arguments. Every extra turn, wasted minute, missed appointment increases the chances of a conflict between the driver (man) and the passenger (wife).

Forget the cause, just eliminate the problem.

How? Gadgets. The solution is to embrace men’s love of gadgets. The solution already exists in phones, stand alone devices, tablets and preinstalled in cars which should be sufficient to help men find their way. Men: play with your gadgets, use your GPS apps. Don’t get or stay lost. But they are missing one key element to have universal usage.

The missing component from the GPS apps is a reward component. Just getting to your destination is not enough for most men. Every time the device is used and you reach the proverbial Grand Ma’s house you should get points. Every time you reach a location on time or without a disagreement the user should get points. Score extra points for arriving at that great new restaurant on time for your reservation. Points, points: that is the ultimate goal. Bonus points can be awarded if you use the devise before being told to ask for directions. And one more thought men aren’t going to ask Siri, after all she is a woman. Redeem the points for beer, books or uninterrupted TV time.

You can have the boyz over to watch the Super Bowl without having to get permission if you accumulate a very large number of points.

However, the real solution is to allow your wife, significant other, or partner to drive because driving while using gadgets is dangerous. Sit back and watch videos or sports on your gadget while someone else drives. But men, be careful not to become a back seat driver; you’re probably wrong and that might result in the loss of points. And God knows we (men) need all the points we can get.

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Brain Doodle

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Preretirement

New year I will be cutting back my work load approximately 20%.  This is one of my relaxation devices that I plan to employ.  Very relaxing at night.  

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Wandering Brain Revisited (Update on November’s Activity)

In late October I started a two-part blog series, Wandering Brain.  Then I stopped to engage in a month-long writing program/contest.  National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo) was a challenge to writers to create a 50,000 word novel during the month of November.  I accepted the call on November 4^th and began writing a sequel to Far from Newark, titled Return to Newark, and I am pleased to announce that I completed the novel on November 25^th.   I received a certificate of achievement, which I had to print myself.  And if I want I could purchase a T-shirt stating my accomplishment.

Of course participating in this program required that all other writing, reading and most other leisure pursuits be kept at a minimum.  It required that 65 and Alive Blog cease for the month, it also required discipline of a structured plan and sticking to a schedule which I sometimes lack.  I wrote every morning and reviewed my work in the evenings with minor revisions and corrections of completely incomprehensible sentences or thoughts.  Then start again the next day.

Writing a novel is full-time work and not suited for a family life, children, honey-do lists or anything close to a normal life.  Not recommended for most people.  I am now, at a much slower pace, reviewing and editing my novel.  At some point I will print a copy and rewrite again.  Then edit and edit some more.  Return to Newark may see the light of day (in digital edition) by the end of 2014.

My Wandering Brain took me on a completely unexpected path.  Perhaps knowing that it would only last one month allowed me to complete it.  My plan was to just plow right into the work and write each day knowing that I was 2500 words closer to completion.  It did feel rather good when I submitted my rough draft for final word count validation.  I got almost as good a feeling as I did when Far from Newark was submitted to Smashwords.com and then received confirmation of its conversion to digital format.

I hope that upon my return to more regular blogging that I didn’t lose too many of my readers.  With that in mind I would appreciate a comment just to tell me someone read this blog.

Far from Newark Update

McDonald’s posts “Billions sold” on its signboard to announce how they are doing.  I am pleased to state my motto for now is: Dozens sold.  Email me and I will be glad to send my followers a free copy of Far from Newark, just tell me what digital format you would like.

 



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Wandering Brain

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Earlier this week I read an article that was published on NPR.org dealing with the Wandering Brain.  Apparently, some people can control pain with a Wandering Brain.  Research by Wendy Davis at theUniversity of Toronto indicates that “mind-wanderers” were able to function better on cognitive tests if they focused their thoughts away from the pain than those who focused on the pain.

While small, the study and preliminary findings indicate non-medical treatment for pain sufferers might be available in a somewhat easy manner.  A focused thought is not quite the same as day-dreaming but it reminds me of an old adage, “Take your mind off of it.”  Perhaps there is some science or truth behind that expression.

Some of you may remember sitting through boring, painful, early morning lecture classes as a college freshman.  The text books had all the information and note taking was merely writing down the same information you highlighted the night before and therefore was mostly, by me anyway, perfunctory and incomplete.  So the student’s mind does what it tends to do, wander, daydream, or sleep. 

In smaller classes the teacher could catch the wanders, those off on an imaginary trip.  As a teacher myself I have on occasion asked a student where he or she was.  This question was directed at their mental state not their physical location.  It usually got a chuckle from them and their classmates and then a return to the classroom activity.  I hope they were merely bored and not in pain from my classes.  Although being merely bored or in pain from my class did not reflect well on my technique or the subject matter at that moment.  The need to ask that question usually was a prompt for me to change and re-engage the class.  Mind-wandering was okay for the student but not for the instructor.

Large lecture halls of the 1960s excelled in the creation of mind-wandering situations.   I have seen card games in progress, students working on other homework assignments, and outright sleeping.  But the blank looks that appeared on the faces of the wandering student raise another question:  Where do we go when we mind-wander?  Good research and blog writing should not just give static opinions by the author but prompt or ask other questions that promote critical dialogue.

So where do we go when we wander?  Answers to that question vary by individual, some people relieve past experiences of their youth or merely last weekend, others speculate on what if situations, or dwell on upcoming events with dread or anticipation.  Come back next blog for a trip in mind-wandering.

Update:  My mind has wandered and I entered a contest to write a 50,000 novel in one month for National Novel Writing Month.  The clock is ticking now.  No more posts until the end of November.  

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Slippery Slope

Part 1

In 2004 I joined the Sun Poets writing group as a tool to divert and channel my energy after leaving the best job I ever had in 2001 (up to that point).  In fact, I had resigned my position on September 7 (a few days later the world was turned upside).  I wasn’t searching for a better job, nor was I chasing a dream or experiencing a mid-life crisis.  A wall at work hit me and a change was required.  Best move I ever made, but not without regrets at times.

The slippery slope started with flash fiction, very short pieces that could be written in 15 minutes, perhaps only 200 or 300 words at most.  Some were written during the sessions and re-crafted later.  Others were started at home and shared with the group during the critic period. 

Later I gravitated to longer pieces of perhaps 600 to 1000 words.  These pieces took longer to thrash out in my head and on paper.  I eventually wrote a few pieces that I submitted to a few publications.  Rejected.  No problem, I was just writing for myself and with no dreams of becoming a famous or rich writer, although that would be nice.  Eventually several pieces became published on-line for zero dollars.  Again, no problem.  I was writing garbage and regularly working at it.  Many hours were spent during lunch-times at the book store with my laptop or early on the weekends to work the keyboard and my pound head on the wall for a few hours.

I wrote a true story about an event that I experienced during my tour of service in Thailand.  Then I wrote a second true event recreation; next came a fictional account of a Buddhist monk giving a lesson.  The wheels in my head started to turn overtime.  

A basic concept of a novel developed.  These three finished stories and a few scraps of other pieces I had written formed the basis of Far from Newark.  And so it started.  No outline at first, just writing as thoughts and events popped into my.  No direction just working at my computer whenever I could.  At some point I sketched a story on a page or two, created a general timeline of events and the story evolved when I moved the timeline to 3 x 5 cards.  Then I arranged and rearranged the cards, into a logical sequence of events.  It was light on details, just a sentence or two on what happened.  Those few lines acted as a prompt to create a chapter or two.

Posed picture on original Mac

Many hours of research went into learning about old Newark, Thailand, Buddhism and anything that popped into my head.  The writing and research occurred simultaneously.  The entire process ended in 2013 with a notebook (3” thick) of information, a notebook of rough draft chapters and a finished story of 55,500 words.  Strangely enough, the three original stories are not part of novel, but remain as stand-alone pieces that were the inspiration for Far from Newark.

The past year was spent editing the final piece.  In all honesty to my readers there were times, sometimes months long, that I did not touch the story.  But at some point during each lapse I decided to finish the project.  It could not be left incomplete. So I plunged back in and finished the novel, and then went back and trashed and rewrote some sections.  AND EDITED.  

Now, what next was the question?  I decided to utilize Smashwords to self-publish in digital format my novel.  It is scheduled for release on November 5.  My goal for now is still modest.  I just want to sell enough books to plow back into printing a small number of print copies to give away and sell.  

The slippery slope continues with the next blog.  Come back.  Please.

To read Parts 2 and 3 click on READ MORE below

Siclovia San Antonio

On Sunday Broadway Street from Mulberry Street to Alamo Plaza was closed to vehicular traffic from 10 am to 3 pm to allow 75,000 San Antonians to walk, ride, stroll or bike the 6-mile route for its semi-annual Siclovia event.  I arrived with my bike and camera around ten am at the middle of the route.  (Pronounced sic-lo-via)

Even at that early hour and after a overnight heavy rain downpour many thousands of people were already enjoying the event.  At my starting point I looked for someone I was supposed to meet.  Couldn’t find them, but meet a few others I knew.  After a quick schmooze I checked out a few health vendor booths, got two T-shirts, a bag and a water bottle, before pedaling south towards the Alamo.

My trek was a slow easy ride with increasing crowds as I approached the Alamo.  The sounds at the Alamo were amazing.  Vendors galore, people milling about and a buzz in the air of excitement.   Having your picture taken in front of the Alamo is a popular tourist and resident’s activity that I didn’t decline.  At this time I am waiting for the on-line photo to be posted.  At the Alamo I took the opportunity get free air for my bike.

Alamo

I didn’t stay long before I turned around and rode north towards my starting spot and beyond.  I stopped to enjoy the San Antonio Youth Symphony performing at a street corner.  Rode past “bubble artists.”  Waved at strangers and just goofed along.

Siclovians

At the mid-point I stopped again to check for my missing companion, still missing.  To be honest it was a person that I had only spoken to on the phone and I had no idea what they looked like.  Could have been right next to me and I wouldn’t have known.  Then I continued north with increasing crowds.  Past Ronald McDonald, the Pig Stand, a rock climbing tower and Larry’s Lop-cycle.   

Larry's "Lop-cycle." Note rear wheel hub location.

The Siclovia event ended at Brackenridge Park with numerous booths, refreshments, water and crowds.

Booth at Brackenridge Park, with water, bananas, apples and more

At one point I glanced at my watch and realized how long I had been out and proceeded to call my wife.

“Honey, I am having too much fun and I might leave in another hour.”

It turned to be more like ninety minutes, but when having a good time there is no reason to quit too soon. 

Me at the Alamo

See the entire slide show on my webpage of my 12-mile Siclovia day. 

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