Artistry With Words

I see sunshine and beautiful colors

A PLEASANT SURPRISE

I’m still laughing as I write this  . . .  life is truly a magical mystery tour.

I picked up the mail a few days ago, just as I do most every day.  Sorted through it . . . looked at a catalog explaining Teamster retirement benefits . . . thought it was a strange thing for me to receive, thought nothing more about it, went on my way with the rest of my day.

A tickling in my brain several hours later . . . why am I receiving a catalog from the Teamsters regarding benefits?  True, I had once been a Teamster, way back in the late 60s and early 70s, but that was another lifetime ago.

Kept thinking about that; something didn’t seem right, you know?  So I retrieved the catalog this morning, called the toll free number, asked why I was receiving catalogs about benefits, and lo and behold, I am a vested member and I have retirement benefits due to me.  LOL

Who woulda thunk it?  Somehow I accumulated enough hours to qualify under the Ten Year rule, so I have a little paperwork to fill out and then I’ll receive monthly retirement checks . . . and Bev will receive payments after I die.

A very nice surprise, one which got me thinking and reflecting once again . . .

AN OLD SAYING I REMEMBER

“Don’t quit five minutes before the miracle happens”

That saying was shared with me twelve years ago by a mentor.  I was struggling at the time, trying to give up alcohol, one more attempt at shedding the demons, one more attempt to get my life back.

“Don’t quit five minutes before the miracle happens, Bill,” Ralph said to me.  “Just hang in there long enough to see the miracle unfold.”

That was twelve years ago and, for this recovering alcoholic, those words came true.  The miracle has happened, and continues to happen each and every day.

So, if you are a writer . . . or if you are anyone going through a struggle . . . don’t quit one second before good times arrive. One thing I know with certainty is that I know nothing about the future.  You know that old joke . . . if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans . . . that perfectly applies for this boy in this lifetime.  I have no clue what is going to happen tomorrow.  As a writer I have no clue if tomorrow is the day a publisher falls in love with my work.  As a human being I have no clue if tomorrow will bring me riches, or heartache, struggles or smooth-sailing.

My job is to be ready, and to never quit trying.

MY DAD

It’s funny, thinking back.  One of my Dad’s favorite sayings was “Always move forward, Bill.  Never give up ground you have gained.”

He and Ralph must have been soul-brothers. Same message, different words.

Have a great day, all of you, unless you’ve made other plans.

Bill

“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”

Tags: writing tips

I was in a car crash back in 1972.  I was sitting at a stop light, waiting for the light to change, and a gentleman, seriously inebriated, plowed into me from behind doing over sixty-miles per hour.  His car pushed my car through the intersection and my gas tank ignited.

I remember fumbling with my seat belt, which had jammed, as flames started in the back of the car.  I remember the heat, and smelling my hair start to burn, and I remember the sheer panic as I tried to get that damned seat belt to unlatch.

Obviously, since I’m writing about that memory, I survived.  I came out of it with a seriously sore neck, burned hair, and a couple second-degree burns on my hand and neck, but all in all it turned out much better than it could have.

The reason I mention that car wreck is because for months afterwards, when I went for a drive, I would not use my seat belt.  I absolutely refused to use it because there was no way I was going to get caught in that frightening situation again.  Intellectually I knew that seat belts save lives, but emotionally and psychologically all I could remember was that seat belt trapping me while the fire raged.

My reaction then reminds me of the reactions of some writers now who are afraid to publish because they have received negative comments about their writing in the past.  Months and years after receiving a negative comment about some story or article, they are still affected by that negativity and cannot pull the trigger and publish again.

It’s totally illogical, but it is a very real fear.  None of us want to be attacked for what we wrote.  Most, if not all, of us do not like negative comments or mean critiques.  It is only human to want validation and positive strokes.

But we cannot let that stop us.  If writing is a passion . . . if you derive pleasure from writing . . . you need to buckle up and go for a drive again.  There will always be haters.  There will always be negative people.  That’s why God gave us middle fingers.  LOL

TWO WEEKS TO GO

Can you tell I’m excited? Two weeks of farmers markets to go and then I can return to creative writing. I am beyond pumped for that moment to arrive.  My brain is overflowing with ideas. I plan on finishing my current novel, “The Magician’s Shadow,” and then tackling a novel I’ve been thinking about for years, a 60’s memory which is inspired by “To Kill A Mockingbird.”  Stay tuned!

CAN YOU FEEL IT?

I just watched the latest news coverage of that hurricane back east.  The scenes of loss are heartbreaking.  The scenes of neighbor helping neighbor are heartwarming.

Watch the scenes . . . file it all away . . . use it in your creative writing.  This is the human experience, for better and for worse, and writers need to capture the angst and the jubilation that is unique with being human.

Can you feel it? How would you feel? What would you do?

WELCOME TO FALL

I love this time of year.  There is inspiration in the air, a time of change, a sense that something exciting is approaching, something which will affect us all.  The lethargy of hot temperatures is being pushed aside by the winds, and the smoke of burned memories is washed from the air by the September rains.

I love this time of year!

And I love all of you.  Thank you for joining me once again.

Remember to do all things with love.

Bill

“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”

Tags: writing tips

FROM YESTERYEAR

Back in 1980 we moved back to Vermont . . . previous wife, previous life . . . we rented an old house in a town named Northfield when we first got there, but eventually we purchased a log home in East Calais.

That log home was beautiful!  It was on five acres with a year-round stream flowing through the property (and a waterfall); it had a daylight basement and wraparound deck, and the whole home was heated by a big woodstove down in the basement.

Back then Vermont did not have many people living in it; still doesn’t I’m sure.  And the town of East Calais probably didn’t have more than a hundred or so residents.  I remember there were no street lights at all.  The homes were so far from each other, most tucked into the woods, so that at night there really was no light to speak of.  I could step off our porch and not be able to see twenty feet in front of me.

Now I mention all this because at night, on a clear night, the stars were vivid.  There was no ambient light to ruin the show, as it were, so I swear every star in the sky was visible.  It was spectacular!  Of course, if we turned the porch light on, the stars were harder to see, and if we had a patio party at night, with lanterns and such, it was also harder to see the stars.

The less distractions the better!

The less we interfered with the natural order of things, the better!

Do you sense a metaphor at work here?

JUST TALKING ABOUT ME RIGHT NOW

More naps these days

I do my best writing in a peaceful setting. Too much noise makes Bill a fidgety writer.  Noise beyond the acceptable level makes Bill a crazy man.

It’s just how I’m wired.

It’s the same when I’m reflecting on life, or when I have an important decision to make.  Drop me down in the middle of a virgin forest and I’ll pull up a stump and solve the problems of mankind.  Stick me in a crowded room, or a busy restaurant, with wall-to-wall noise, and I’ll only add to the problems of mankind.

I need to allow my senses to embrace the moment. I need to smell my surroundings, to hear my surroundings, to taste, really see, and to touch it all.  In so doing, my mind is freed of chains, and I am then allowed to absorb it all and find clarity.

I don’t know how you rock n roll, but that’s how this boy enters the creative process.

A QUESTION FROM A WRITER FRIEND

On my weekly series “The Writer’s Mailbag,” someone asked me about marketing and in particular online marketing on social media.  He asked if it was all right to befriend someone on Facebook in order to promote your writing.

To me no, it isn’t.

I will make mention of the new novel I’m writing from time to time, but that’s only because some people want to know about my progress made.  I actually don’t care if anyone buys it in 2019 or not.  I’m certainly not going to ask anyone to buy it.  I write my novels because I love to write.  I love to entertain people, and I love to toss out my thoughts and reflections about life in a way which is less overbearing.  If people purchase those books that’s nice; if they don’t, that’s nice as well.

It’s all good, folks!

And with that I will bid you a fond farewell for this week.  I wish for you peace of mind and heart this week and beyond.  Treat yourself, and treat others, with compassion and love.

Bill

“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”

Tags: writing tips

CONTINUED RANDOMNESS

Way back in another lifetime I (we) owned an Arabian mare.

She was a majestic creature, unbelievably beautiful, and one seriously willful animal.

On early mornings I would grab a cup of coffee, go out into the pasture, and sit on a stump to enjoy the peacefulness of it all.  I could always count on Regal walking over to me, air pluming from her nostrils, the sun slowly rising in the east over the fir trees, the sounds of the countryside rising in volume, and I would reach into my pocket and pull out an apple for her. She would then nuzzle my shoulder, man and animal, joined together, finding a common bond of trust . . . great memories!

I’m reminded of those times every day now when I got out to our son’s farm to feed the chickens.  They have three horses there, plus about fifty goats, and there is always someone seeking attention from this human.  It’s real hard not to smile when I’m at the farm . . . I don’t even try to frown.

I like the relationship between farmer and farm animals.  We really get down to basics . . . I will feed you and provide shelter, and in turn you will provide what I need, whether it be food, fibers, meat, or just companionship.

I’m a lucky man!

ABOUT LUCK

Some say there is no such thing as bad luck or good luck.  Others say you make your own luck by the choices you make.  I guess I straddle the fence on that one and take the road less traveled. I don’t like the word luck.  I think we greatly affect the outcome of an event by doing the necessary work in advance and yes, that applies to a writer and his viewership/sales.

Most of you, I’m sure, will agree with me when I say writing a book is the easiest part of selling that book; without marketing and determination, sales will be limited to family and close friends.

And maybe that’s fine with you.  It is with me. I have no illusions of great sales, no expectations, and no dreams.  If it happens it happens; if not, I’m secure and happy in my life. And I find that to be a very cool place to reside.

So I don’t much need luck as much as I need the wisdom to continue doing what I’m already doing.  Why rock the apple cart when the pavement is perfectly smooth?

THE MAGICIAN’S SHADOW

It’s been a year!  It really is hard to believe I’m even typing those words.  It’s been a full year since I worked on my latest novel, The Magician’s Shadow.  As many of you know, it is half-done, and it has been patiently waiting for me to continue for twelve long months now.

That time is now four weeks away.  I can feel the creative juices flowing in my veins in anticipation.

Here is the prologue to that novel:

“Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.”

He sang as he continued with his work.  He considered it vitally important that a person enjoy his or her work.  How boring it must be, he thought, factory workers who do the same thing, day in, day out, week after month after year, mind-numbing work, spirit-breaking work, and at the end of their fifty years they receive a plaque, a series of handshakes, and the heart attack follows shortly.

That would not be his fate, for greatness does not fade into oblivion.

It began, for him, shortly after his tenth birthday.  A dream had come to him, and in that dream he was The Magician, not a magician as in a description of his craft, but The Magician, the greatest ever, a man of such incredible talent as to defy all laws of nature, to defy all logic, a man who could not be described by mere labels such as “illusionist, enchanter, or conjurer,” for how does one describe the impossible?

He stood on the shoreline and looked at his latest work of art. It was perfect in every way.  The young girl was exquisitely staged.  The authorities would come to the scene in a matter of hours. They would look for evidence.  They would hold countless meetings where they would share theories.  They would hold press conferences and assure the public that the case would be solved soon, but to themselves they would admit that they were stymied, completely in the dark, for how could such a thing have happened?  And how could it happen three times?

They would call in other experts, and more theories would be postulated, and more meetings held, but still no answers would arrive, (for the impossible has no explanation), and then their greatest fears would be realized.

It was all perfect in every way, but he expected nothing less of himself.

He was, after all, The Magician!

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As you can see, this will be another lighthearted romp through the mind of a serial killer.  LOL

I have to run. There’s painting to do outside while the weather is still cooperating. Have a great week of being human.

Bill

Tags: writing tips