You are going to die. You are going to die sooner than you would prefer. You only have one life and therefore one chance to write the book you want to write. Choose wisely.
Publishers want to sell books. You should want to sell books. This does not mean what publishers want and what editors suggest coincides with the book you want to write. You are going to die. Choose wisely.
I am a fan of Mishima’s novels. Sometimes I just have to shake my head and laugh. Only he could say such things.
“Covered by a slightly faded green plaid skirt, her bottom in the winter sunlight seemed crammed with the very essence of life, as voluptuous as any painted by Renoir. She exuded the kind of glossy freshness one might find in a brand new tube of toothpaste just taken from its box, with its promise of a crisp morning.”
-Life For Sale by Yukio Mishima
My luggage is mostly books.
Sometimes in life you have to go to the bunker and wait while the big lopsided wheel spins deciding who lives and who dies. It helps to have music, written and performed by friends, while you wait on fate.
I was looking for a missing pair of sunglasses, digging through all my bags and boxes, when I came across three new pairs of socks. It was a gift to myself from myself. And it is a very thoughtful and timely present in the forth month of a work trip. They are even made in the USA!
My memory has never been good. My sister has the same problem so maybe it’s genetic or maybe it was the ground water. When I was a kid I worried about my memory after reading of Hemingway’s perfect recall. I worried that I lacked one of the requisites for writing. So I made a deal with myself, as only the very young can. I would forget the events and remember the emotions. In hindsight, it wasn’t a bad plan.
And yes, I number my socks.
“I don’t read fiction,” a coworker said. It’s a common thing to hear, especially from men who live an active life. He liked books with facts, things he could use. It’s a very rational thought. It’s almost a confession once someone finds out that I write fiction. Hell, I like non-fiction too. Most of the books on my shelf are non-fiction. But they serve different purposes. Non-fiction gives you knowledge. Fiction gives you wisdom. At least it should. If yours doesn’t, you might need to switch genres or authors.
My work life summed up: I was in my room studying Plato, reading The Republic again and getting nowhere except to the opinion that Socrates would be a pain in the ass as a friend. But I have worked at studying philosophy for close to thirty years and it’s something that I can’t seem to give up.
There is a knock at the door. It’s one of my guys. He says that a piece of equipment is broken. “Hard down,” in the parlance. I put on my boots and go to investigate. They had accidentally sucked a shackle (or a clevis depending on your geographic origin) between two boom sections on a crane and now it was wedged solid. Long story short- I used a chain fall and some WD-40 to pull the shackle free. We are “back up”, in the parlance again.
And this is the sum. I’ve always been more handy than smart no matter how much I study or read. But I’ll continue trying because I’m also stubborn.
It takes a lot of effort to write simply. Like anyone who has spent a life reading and writing, I can sometimes get ornate with my language. That’s when the red pen comes along and murders the wordy words. When I see a review like this I think, ‘Wow, this guy really gets it. He really understands me. That’s exactly what I intended with my labor.’ I’m sure that’s not what he intended but language is a negotiation between minds, not an exchange. Also, “have women sleep over”, cracks me up.
I’m a little obsessed with finding things made in the USA and supporting companies that make good products. It comes from growing up in a manufacturing family and in a manufacturing community. I’ve been carrying this little beauty for around 30 years. This Leatherman multi-tool has gone fishing in Alaska, repaired trucks, served in Afghanistan and Iraq, and been to every construction job site I’ve worked. Recently the sheath gave out after a long sweaty day in the swamps of Mississippi. I repaired it with a little electrical tape but ponied up to get her a new sleeping bag. It’s on my belt right now and I expect it to be there for the next 30 years. Support your local team.
Sometimes for work I get to drive big trucks. It warms my heart and nourishes my soul. I love driving.
There comes a time in every boy’s journey when he must choose between Holden Caulfield and Robert Jordan. That choice creates the man.
My wife Kellie is the real talent in our family. She likes to stick a paintbrush in my hand and watch as I put glaze on her paintings. This makes me very nervous. I’m terrified of screwing something up. Writing is tough but it’s really just thinking on paper. Painting is a different world. It requires physical and mental skill. She has both in spades. Her upcoming solo show at the Seattle Art Museum Sales and Rental gallery opens September 5th. Check it out. kellietalbot.com
Send the kids off to summer camp, drink whiskey in your barracks room by yourself, eat a delicious MRE for dinner and then go to sleep hoping the kids don’t die at camp. Good times.
He was an adventurer of the sea, an outcast, a ruler- and my very good friend. I wish him a quick death in a stand-up fight, a death in sunshine; for he had known remorse and power, and no man can demand more from life. -Joseph Conrad
I get a lot of emails from readers telling me what they enjoyed, what actions or characters they identified with and even some editing advice. I like those emails. They let me know my work has found its audience. I don’t get a lot of reviews. This morning I woke up to this review on Instagram. It’s a very cool way to start the day. If you liked A Hell Called Ohio, please consider taking a few moments and reviewing it on Amazon or wherever you found it. Those reviews really help.
I have a problem. I like to get up early and write but I also like to sleep next to my wife. My other job takes me away from home a lot. I’ve spent years away from my wife. I don’t like this. I often think of the scene in Dr. Zhivago when Klaus Kinski sees the old couple snuggling on the train. It’s cold intellectualism versus real human warmth.
There will be many more nights that I spend alone in a sleeping bag far from home. This knowledge sends me back to bed or keeps me in it.
I’ve been shooting since I was a little boy. I’ve shot a lot and the more you shoot, the more you realize there is more to learn. Usually I run my pistol but lately I’ve been trying to become a better rifleman. This fall I took Insights ‘Intermediate Defensive Rifle’. It was an excellent outdoor class that stretched our skills to 600 yards. At that distance you have to trust your fundamentals and math. Excellent class. Also, when Kell packs me lunch it gets quite civilized.
I read books. It’s my job. I try to read books that will push me, that will improve my game. Mostly I read old books but I do try to stay up on what is considered good or relevant at the moment. Most of the writers I admire are dead. I was lucky enough to read some of them while they were still alive.
Here is my advice to a non-professional reader- don’t read bad books. If a book insults you, insults your intelligence or your knowledge of life- put that fucker down. This is different from books that challenge you, challenge your thought, your opinions. Read those. Understand another point of view. By ‘bad’ books I mean something that rings hollow or deformed. Many shallow books masquerade as deep. They are written by children with no real life experience. I think Jim Harrison called it ‘picking scabs’. Everyone knows the person that likes to rehash embarrassing stories from someone’s past, usually in public, and to everyone’s discomfort. Why are they doing this? Is there a lesson to be learned? No, it’s to bring you down to their level. If you come across a book like that- put it down. I mean that in the animal sense. Take it out back and put it down.
Unfortunately I have to read and finish bad books. They eat my soul and make me angry. Often they are successful and well reviewed. I shrug my shoulders and move on. Don’t let them drag you down.
Have you ever read a book so bad that you wanted to destroy it? I’m not saying I want all copies wiped from the earth but only that I want my copy killed so my soul would be free of responsibility for someone else picking that one copy up. I can be creative in making these books disappear.
I think it helps to get CLP all over your manuscript. I’ve heard they like to run wet. I’ve heard that somewhere at least.
I still get phone calls for my brother-in-law Kyler. We started a construction business together but it never went far. And then Kyler died. I found this copy of Sundog in his office. I gave it to him years ago but I'm not sure he ever read it. One of the characters is a construction/civil engineering gypsy. I think it is a great novel but has never gotten much critical love. Sometimes I think I like the wrong books.
