Day 2 - Texas, or "Duuuuude!..... ranch"

I woke up early Saturday so I could get breakfast before heading to the nearest police station. See, ten minutes before I got to my hotel Friday night, I was pulled over for speeding. I was keeping with traffic, but was sporting out-of-state plates, so obviously I was a danger to society. I was looking the ticket over trying to reconcile an unexpected expense with getting basically free hotel stays when I noticed there was no amount written on the ticket, just a date when I was supposed to appear in court. It took the officer five pieces of evidence to believe that I knew who I was, what I was driving, where it came from, and where I was going, yet the idea that I am not an Arkansas regular missed him.

The funny thing was when I got to the police station early on a bracing Saturday, an assured and friendly local trooper took one look at my ticket and uttered "Ugh, Staties." Short version: I should be able to leave the state without a federal man-hunt, so I could move on.

On my walk to the station, I passed by the county Admin building and nearly fell off the sidewalk. See, unless I'm wrong, the local paragon of state governance is Liberace.

If anyone knows who this is and why they're dressed like Khan from Star Trek II, let me know please!

A shower later, I was on the road for Houston. Google's first idea was to take me on a dozen toll roads. My first idea was to throw the phone out a window. We compromised. The route I ultimately took sent me down a lot of smaller state roads which added about an hour to my travel time, but it was worth it. I must have passed by a dozen ranches, with herds grazing and prominent stars and brand symbols everywhere. Again, I did not pull over to take pictures because I figure ranchers have guns and like privacy, and I like not being threatened or shot. I'm not being fair - everyone I've actually interacted with in Texas has been very friendly.

Especially Gretchen and Jim! After GoogleMaps sent me on a wrong turn at the very last minute, I finally made it to Casa del Plassard. Gretchen met me outside at the gate, I drove her to the community trash dumpster, and I entered the house. They had a room and bathroom set up just for me, their cats were friendly, and I wasn't there five minutes before there was a beer in my hand. The empanadas didn't turn out that great, but they were experimental anyway - the salad and the spinach&artichoke dip were marvelous! The evening ended with Two Towers on AMC and Red Dragon Inn on the table. I give this establishment 4.5 out of 5 stars!

This morning started with bacon, and we plan on visiting a house made out of beer cans. Gonna be a good day.

Arkansas, or "Whelp, I'm in the South"

Day 1 of my cross-country trip has already been eventful.

It began with a quick stop at my grandparents' - Hi Grandma and Grandpa! - during which I expressed that a few tea bags might not hurt for the trip and they give me a bag with enough provisions to cover the entire trip. Really should have seen that one coming.

The drive itself was mostly boring. Nine hours, give or take, of road without much to see. Until I crossed the border into Arkansas.

I don't know where I was when I saw it - the scenery had blended together, all I knew was that Tina Fey was talking about how uncomfortable it was knowing that Sarah Palin was going to sneak up on her. Describing it won't do it justice, but it's the best I've got: Picture Jesus looking at white text that reads "Are you going in the wrong direction? I specialize in U-Turns." Took me a second to read that fully, and in doing so I was no prepared for the follow-up text: "IsHeInYou?.com"

I almost pulled over to get a picture, but it occurred to me that the type of place that puts up a billboard like that is probably the type of place where the locals would beat up visitors that took pictures of their billboards. I switched to the slow lane and started tapping my phone so that I could call out when I had to get back in the fast lane very suddenly. See, a dining room table had flown off someone's car and he'd stopped to salvage it. Not a truck, not a van, a car no bigger than mine. Lost a dining room table.

When I do get into the slow lane and do find a working number, I find myself behind a flatbed truck (no tables) with a huge "God Bless America" sticker on it and what appeared to be a machine gun mounted on top. It turned out to be a heavy-duty winch, but it was enough to complete the trifecta - I had entered the South.

Later on, in one ten-mile stretch, I saw one billboard for an "adult superstore" and two billboards with Bible quotes against extramarital relations. I honestly don't know if these two concepts are contradictory or not.

To say I'm travel-lagged at this point is an understatement. But I made it this far at least.

Had a calzone and a few beers at a place a short walk from my hotel called Vino's. Hipster pizza joint, but they do good pizza and beer. We'll see how the hotel works out, I guess.

Tune in tomorrow when I regale you with the Tale of the Incomplete Speeding Ticket and (hopefully) arrive in Houston!

Turning Points

I realize it's been a while since my last post, but I've been distracted.

And when I say distracted, I do not mean "I saw this really neat bird," or "I just discovered video games". I quit my full-time job a few weeks ago and have been doggedly pursuing where my next big paycheck is coming from. Among other things.

You may recall the last few entries, I mentioned suffering from writers' block in regard to my fiction writing. It was my hope that this was from work-related stress, and that when the stress was removed, I'd start getting ideas again. The first thing I did after quitting was catch a bad cold, and the only thing to come out of my head was snot. This is essential to the tale and you MUST know about my snot.

I don't consider myself holistic, but I do believe mental illness can manifest physically. When life gets down, I can push through pretty well, but at some point I'm going to crash hard. My body flips me the bird with both hands and says "I ain't putting up with this no more!", caging me in a sickbed. On the plus side, once I'm over it, things feel normal. This time, I remembered what "normal" is for me.

Since my recovery, I've come up with three terms that push innuendo so far it cracks, made a stranger cry because of an off-the-cuff reply, and had an idea for a book that, if it's been done already, I haven't seen it. I feel like I'm back.

Part celebration, part ongoing quest, I'll be spending the next few weeks on the road starting Thursday. I'll be seeing people I haven't in a long time, looking at new prospects that shouldn't suppress my potential, listening to digital tons of audiobooks and speeches, seeing new sights, and drinking beer. I thought about creating a new site to showcase my travel log and pictures, but what better way to promote the next phase of my life than a blog that, while collecting digital dust, I consider very much alive.

Pay attention over the next few weeks as this baby should explode in updates and media. And enjoy!

Bam

I was just reading my last entry and finding it more prophetic than I'd ever intended. In time I will expand on that, but for now I have other things to share.

Just came back from watching Skyfall, and one of the odd things it made me think of is how much history my generation has already been part of. Five decades of cinema ago, a bunch of people made a cheesy movie and started a global franchise, all leading up to the film of today, where very little cheese is to be found. That's not to say it's pretentious - it's very aware and respective of its roots - it's just that it's not bound to them, it's willing to try something different, and there's respect in that. More if it succeeds, and in my opinion it truly does succeed, but even if it hadn't, at least it tried.

My writer's block isn't gone yet, but there are cracks forming. I'll have dry spells, and then a day when I crack 1,000 words. they lack the polish that only comes from regular practice, but they get the job done. My professional blogging work is also going well; I'm continuously trying new devices and formats and while some work better than others, it's a wonderful lab to test things.

I should probably find out what those dogs are barking at. See you soon!

Insider Trading

Ugh, really? It was May the last time I posted on here? Yikes. I've got some extra personal stuff in this update to make up for lost time, if that helps at all.

I just finished reading this fascinating article by a novelist who is in the middle of an artistic identity crisis. In many ways, he’s very successful: he has a house, a wife, two daughters, a dog, and a job that keeps him intellectually stimulated and provides a valuable service. He’s focused, driven, concerned that he isn’t giving enough to those he loves, but gives enough to keep them all healthy and sometimes happy. But he wonders if he should have written more.

It’s hard to write that last sentence for me, as the author is complaining that he’s only had five novels published, and none of them was what he felt they could have been. There’s a part of me that really feels for the guy. Any work of creativity is a torturous exercise, and if it’s going to be shared, it really should be as amazing as possible. To look back and recognize that more could have been done must be rough. Another part of me says “Boo fucking hoo. Complaining that your five published novels could have been better or sold more is like complaining that the latest Bentley model doesn’t really go well with your other cars.”

An axiom I hold close to me, one I don’t think I created but don’t remember hearing anywhere else, is that We can’t solve every problem, but we can trade them. That is, part of the human condition is that we’re not perfect, and the people we think are perfect really have their own full set of problems. The quality of problems or issues may change, but the number of problems doesn’t. This axiom doesn’t necessarily make me feel better, but it helps me make sense of the world sometimes. And it works here.

This guy tried the whole bohemian artist life: work a couple hours a day, live on crumbs, and spend the rest of his time devoted to his craft. He jumped from job to job, trying to increase the pay and/ or quality of work for the same number of hours, and before he knew it, he’d gone full-time civil servant suburbanite. He has problems, about the same number of ones he had in his old life, but they’re very different from the problems he faced in his old life. He didn’t necessarily solve those old problems, he just traded them in for different ones, perhaps ones easier to live with.

He looks back on his works, ye mighty, but does not despair. He can see the roads he might have taken, one leading to Paris back alleys filled with drink and debauchery, and can almost see the writing he would’ve done as a result. But right in front of him is the wife that loves and supports him, the children that depend on him and adore him, and the dog that just looks so cute when it messes up the house. The idea that these things wouldn’t exist if he’d taken another path disgusts him. Maybe his first five novels weren’t great, but the sixth one could surprise us all.

I’m going through a massive case of writer’s block. I’d like to say I know what’s causing it, but there are so many potential reasons right now that it couldn’t possibly be one thing. I’m preparing to move, and while I’m excited to move into another phase of my life, the place isn’t finished yet and the next few weeks for me are mostly question marks. My full-time job is getting more and more busy, yet for all that it’s woefully under-stimulating at times, and thanks to the writer’s block I can’t fill that void. I’ve had to go back on medication for a recurring condition that is making me feel better, but I have to wonder if it’s playing a role in my block (it hasn’t in the past, but the body can be a fickle thing).

It’s not all bad. I have been getting out a bit more and getting to know new people, and otherwise making time to have fun. My brother recently got engaged and is moving to the West Coast, and I’m excited for him about that.

There’s a lot going on in my life, and some if that makes me reflect on what I’ve done. The choices we make determine where we are in life, more than the choices made for us. We can learn a lot by looking back and figuring out how things happened, but that behavior is meaningless if we don’t make more choices and move forward, leaving the past even further back.

I'm at a point where I’m doing a lot of problem trading. I’m trading a set of worries with my old place for a new set of worries at my (hopefully) new place. My family is growing, but is relocating further away at the same time. I have more work to do, and it’s going to take more work for me to find reward in it. All this takes a lot of mental energy, so perhaps I shouldn’t be concerned that I don’t have as much to put into stories. Yet here I am.

Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have to go and get my house back in order…

Being Fruitful and Multiplying

Again, I have to admit that it seems like I've been neglecting this blog. Please believe me, this is not as it seems.

Behold, my proof: a new blog! http://comiccarnival.com/blog/

I've expanded my role at the Comic Carnival, and will now be writing a weekly review of a small sampling from the new releases. I'm going for humorously informative - I want to tell people what's behind the cover and give them a sense of whether they'd like it without spoiling anything, and make them laugh at the same time.

Am I succeeding? You tell me! But for my money, I'm having a great time, reading (mostly) good books, and am getting published. I WIN!

As to my more personal projects? Right now I'm writing a scene I've had in my head for close to a year, but it was always just low enough on my list that I never bothered. The time spent percolating must've done something, because now that I'm typing it out, it's coming fast. It's nice to have an "easy" scene for once.

I got an itch to adapt an old school property for modern audiences a couple weeks back. Nothing major, some world-building and a few notes on how to structure the first couple of plotlines. I won't say which, I don't need attention from anyone's legal department and it was just for fun, and fun I had.

Oh, and I fixed the line break problem from last entry. Go me!!

Coalescence

No, dear Blog, I have not forgotten about you. I've been a bit distracted is all.//* I was struck yesterday with the oddity of the creative process. Like the great casseroles of our time, it often comes down to throwing in whatever one can find, stirring it up right, and just letting it bake until something better than the sum of its parts comes out.// I'm reading up on the city of Jericho for my novel project, and just finished a section on its geography and tectonic location. It's close to the Arabian-African tectonic plates, which are moving away from each other about 120 miles every ten million years, or as the geologist put it, the blink of an eye (from a planetary perspective). Yes, I find this stuff interesting, bear with me.// This resonated with an idea I had about a school of monks who create a fighting style by watching trees and mountains interact over the course of generations. Without giving too much away, in this case trees and mountains have a big grudge to settle, and the cosmos has ring-side seats during this slugfest.// During my nightly expulsion of brain material, I came across some notes I made years ago about a completely different group of people that abandoned all speech in order to better listen to and understand the world. This seemed like the ideal group to sit around for centuries in order to learn how to throw a punch from an angry pine, or execute a sweep from a river. Playing around with these three separate concepts yielded some exciting results. They may not make it into the first book, but they're excellent material for future stories.// As a proud citizen of the United States, I know I'm supposed to be addicted to instant gratification. If I can't have it now, it's not worth having, all of that. But then something like this happens, where something I started years ago matures into something more than I imagined, it makes me appreciate the virtue of patience. It's kind of a shame we are such mortal creatures, and we have so little time to use.// *Blogger is not letting me use paragraphs for some reason. Until I figure out why and can fix it, I'm settle for // to denote paragraph breaks. Sorry for the ugliness.