Mail Call #2

Happy Friday boys and girls!  This was a pretty heavy week for email so let's get right too it.

Brian, you've made some pretty harsh comments this week regarding the Colorado shootings, heroes, and a bunch of similar topics.  I applaud your willingness to take a stand on how you feel, but don't you think this will hurt your sales and reputation?

There are so many way to answer this question.  I guess the best way to do so is to just be honest.  I am who I am (no Popeye jokes from the peanut gallery) and that's all I know how to be.  I am not now nor have I ever been accused of being a subtle person.  Hopefully my fans (it is still SO weird saying that) appreciate my inability to still within the p.c. status quo.  If not, well, it's kind of their loss I guess.  Personally I get offended by fake people. If you truly lack the "courage of your convictions" then why have the conviction in the first place? 

On a related note, I'd like to thank everyone for the large number of emails, texts, phone calls, Facebook chats, and even face to face discussions regarding this week's blog content on heroes, gun rights, and the will to act.  While I don't share the same viewpoints on these issues as some of you, I appreciate the fact that so many are willing to share their mind on these topics.  I've even found out through these discussions that I apparently even have a couple of nutjobs reading the blog now.  To those folks I say welcome, don't poke the other guests, and there's plenty of pudding in the fridge.

To wrap up the discussion, I do want to directly answer one email that implied I was being somewhat indirect about my personal beliefs on some of these issues.  I'm not sure which blog that particular individual was reading, but let's see if this helps.  I believe in our constitutionally protected right to bear arms (and arm bears - especially with frickin' lasers).  I believe in the rights of the individual to protect themselves appropriately.  I believe that it is a man's (or woman's as the case may be) job to defend their family and loved ones.  I also think most of our current gun control legislation is fluffy feel good bullshit aimed at placating the frightened not facing reality.  Criminals will ALWAYS have access to weapons.  And finally, what will it take to get some people to understand that guns don't kill people - the idgit pulling the trigger does?!?!  Fix the idgit not the gun you dumbasses!!

Other than royalties, what's really the upside to writing books?

I received this email on Monday and it's taken me a few days to answer, well at least to answer intelligently anyway.  I've talked before about the fact that I feel a real need to tell these stories that get in my head.  It's pretty much the only way to get rid of them.  Sometimes, as was the case with the second novel, the upside is that I get to see the culmination of years of work on a project.  Plus, as silly as it sounds, I now actually have proof I've been here.  Hopefully there will be many more as time goes on but for now, in some dark little corner of the whole of English literature sit my two little books.  I contributed, I created, and if I get hit by a random semi tomorrow there is at least proof I was here that will outlast the lives of those that know me personally.  It sounds horrifically grandiose but the upside of doing anything creative is that once you put it out there into the world, no matter what it is, your creation grants you a tiny little glimmer of legacy and immortality.  Strangely (maybe sadly, I'm not sure) enough my legacies are named Mack, Nick, Dina, David, Lina, and others, but messed up as those characters are they're mine nonetheless.  I've made the statement before but I truly hope that somewhere down the line my niece's grandkids or my own great grandkids find my little work on whatever passes for a library by then and gets the chance to find out what a truly messed up little monkey I truly am.  To me, personally, that's one hell of an upside.

I'm interested in self-publishing but don't know how?  Any pointers?

I'm actually in the process of putting together a little resource post on just that topic.  Look for it in the next week or so.

I've been working on a short story for two years now that has turned into a novel.  I'm about 100,000 words in, I think I'm about halfway finished, and now I'm stuck.  Any suggestions?

First of all, congratulations on getting this far to start with.  Most people don't.  Now, depending on formatting, I'm guessing your 100k is about three to four hundred pages already.  If that feels like the halfway point - wow!  The first thing I might suggest is to back away from it for a bit.  Work on another project.  Get drunk.  Get laid.  Take a break.  Get a job writing greeting cards.  Whatever works for you, just get your brain out of that universe for a while.  Getting stuck happens to all of us and for most it's just a matter of moving away from it to get "fresh eyes" on the story.  I might also suggest that you look at your book as a whole.  You've got so much material written already; you may actually have two books on your hands and not realize it! 

You are always asking for people to review your books online.  Why?

Book reviews, even bad ones, get the word out about an author's work.  Reviews help new readers know what they're getting into with a book, give people something to discuss,and help an author get better at their craft.  Some of my toughest reviews have been from good friends and they've been really helpful.  Of course, if you're a little twisted like I am, reviews can also be a truly funny source of entertainment.  The worst review I've received yet was so hilarious that it's still one of my favorites. So please, review away!

Well that's all the email for this week.  Thanks again for all your support.

Over the weekend we're going to be celebrating another milestone for The Cynical Sarcastic: the 100th post!  Make sure that you check in, it's going to be a good one.

In Response: The Will To Act

I received the following email this morning in response to yesterday's blog post.  It's not Friday yet but, given the subject matter, I thought it would be a good follow up to discuss.  The original was extremely long and well thought out but I have carefully edited down to save space while trying to keep the original message intact.

I've only recently started reading your blog.  I enjoy it but today feel the need to comment. I'm writing in response to your post regarding the Colorado incident.  It appears you espouse the idea that had there been an armed citizen in that theater, tragedy could have been averted... I have to vehemently disagree.  The sheer fact that the gunman had legally purchased firearms in his possession should indicate how erroneous that train of reasoning truly is at its core...  What bothers me is that, as a creative person that concerns himself with artistic pursuits, you fail to see the true issue is not one of defense but one of the need for defense... I don't own a gun nor do I see how owning one will do anything but escalate a dire situation I may find myself in... I agree with you that our police personnel are truly heroes but I wonder why you don't agree with letting them do their jobs.  Why do we need guns for protection when we have security systems and police response?... Yes the events in Colorado are horrible, but should they constitute a rallying cry to self-deputize the citizenry?  I urge you to consider both your personal stance and the public forum in which you discuss it.  You have an opportunity as a writer to help to influence those who read your work... I hope this gives you something to consider.

I appreciate this person's point of view.  Her argument is a valid one based on what she believes to be accurate information from her life experience.  Her standpoint on gun ownership is just as valid as opinion as mine is, whether I agree with it or not. 

This whole issue has been such a hot button over the last five days that nearly everyone is talking about it in some form or another. It occurred to me during a discussion with my wife last night about why I want her to carry a gun as we make changes in our life that while this horrific tragedy has spawned a lot of debate, it also has an underlying issue that I think bears discussing.  When you brush away the gravel and dirt, there's also the issue of the will to act lying beneath as well.

What do I mean by the "will to act?"  Simply, the capacity for violence.  It would have done no more good to have everyone in that Aurora theater armed if no one had the nerve to draw their weapon and use it. While discussing this event with a friend, it was pointed out that the perpetrator weighs approximately 180lbs and, even in full body armor, a direct hit from a .40 or .45 caliber slug would put him on his ass.  I agree with the logic, but then again, somebody has got to have the nerve to shoot the bastard to begin with. Since this whole event centers around a Batman movie, take a second and recall the scene in Batman Begins where Liam Neeson's Rha's Al Ghoul is explaining to Bruce Wayne that his parents' death was actually his father's fault for not being willing to act to save his family.

I rattle on a lot, both on this blog and unfortunately in life as well, about the rampant pussification of this society.  We've become far too concerned with everyone's feelings to focus on reality.  There is a simple truth to be had in all of this and I haven't heard it put better than in a blog on RangerUp.com that I read last night.  To paraphrase:

Most people in this world are sheep.

Sheep fear the sheepdog for he keeps them in line.

The sheepdog reminds them of the wolf with his teeth and muscle and

capacity for violence.

The sheep would rather the sheepdog dye his fur white, pull his teeth, and start saying Baa.

Until the wolf comes.

Then all those sheep try to hide behind one solitary sheepdog.

How many of us out there are truly sheep and how many are sheepdogs?  How many men do you know that don't just talk a good game but are actually physically and psychologically capable of protecting their families should shit and fan become acquainted?  I know a lot of good people in this world  I also realize that it's very easy to cull them into two groups, and honestly that saddens me. 

The will to act vs. the will to be a victim. 

Sheep or sheepdog.

Thomas or Bruce Wayne?

You know, the Norse tradition tells that the Valkyrie descended to take those that fell in battle to a place of honor in Valhalla.  Not the winners.  Not the losers.  Just those with the courage to act.

In his heart of hearts, every person knows their true nature.  What's yours? 

It's not about gun control and all that crap, not really.  It's about a gut check, pass or fail.

In response to my reader, thank you for your thoughts.  I respectfully disagree.

Heroes

Kids, I've got to get something off my chest.  Bear with me if you will.

I am sadly disappointed in a large number of my fellow Triangle area residents today.  Actually, I think the phrase "grieved by" is a much better description of what I'm feeling. 

I normally try to listen to G105's morning show on a daily basis, but was unable to this morning.  I heard about the bruhaha that good ol' Bobby Dumas, our own favorite local shock jock, caused and the near epic level of fallout surrounding it second hand.  One replay and a slew of message board reading later and I feel like I need to say something myself on this issue.

The entire stink from this morning's show was that Bob simply refused to acknowledge the victims of the Aurora, Colorado shootings as "heroes."  Seemingly a solid third of the area is incensed by this and thinks he's being disrespectful to those poor people.  Don't get me wrong here, the entire incident is a horrific tragedy and I hope that nutbag deep-fries for what he did.  By the way, I also think that Christian Bale is currently showing an amazing amount of class by taking time out to visit the victims still hospitalized by this horrible incident.

But folks, I gotta agree with Bob here.  There is a word for those people, but it's not hero.

They're called victims.

I categorically refuse to honor someone who was in a bad situation as a hero.  I'm sorry but there is nothing heroic, regardless of what your favorite rapper may contend, about being shot at simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Don't misunderstand me here.  My heart bleeds for these poor people and what they will have to live with for the rest of their lives while that orange haired fuck will most likely spend the rest of his squalid existence in a looney bin.  Were there heroes in this affair?  Hell yes!  The people who shielded their loved ones from harm, in some cases even giving their lives, are truly heroes.  The officers who took that fruit loop gunman into custody; definitely heroes.  The spineless fucking coward who reportedly jumped from the balcony and abandoned his girlfriend and child, not so much.  It seems as if a number of people want to hand out the 'hero-tag' like a participation trophy in hopes of making everyone feel better and I'm sorry but that is such RAGING BULLSHIT!  And please don't get me started on all the anti-gun pussies out there who are now saying that if we couldn't own guns that couldn't have happened.  Guess what, folks?  The huge spike in Colorado concealed carry permit applications since last Friday should tell you something. 

The simplest definition of the word hero is a person who, in the opinion of others, has performed a heroic act or deed.  If it's still not clear for you, let's boil it down to two simple and, if you're any kind of patriot, gut-wrenchingly powerful words: "Let's Roll"- Todd Beamer, Flight 93, 9/11/01.  That man and his fellow passengers who stormed that cockpit and thwarted the plans of evil men were heroes.  Every soldier that returns from being deployed into an active theater of war is a hero, whether they were on the front lines or in the rear with the gear as far as I'm concerned.  Our members of law enforcement who put on a uniform and go to work every single fucking day to put their life on the line to keep us safe are heroes.  I find it revoltingly pathetic that we as a society are so quickly willing to lump a feel better tag on people that are the victims of a horrible tragedy that we are don't seem to mind deriding the constant and consistent sacrifices of the real heroes among us in doing so.

Mr. Bob Dumas, you are now and forever shall be The Man and you are 100% right on this one my brother.  Thank you for speaking the truth regardless of how many want to tear you down for doing so!  To all those who are incensed over what he had to say, I'll tell you what.  Why don't you go home tonight and pull out your participation ribbon from fifth grade soccer and hug it real tight with your teddy bear while you go to bed so it will make you feel better.  The real heroes of this world will be out walking their walls and riding in their patrol cars, doing their job to hunt down the things that go bump in the night so you can continue living in your own little clueless haze of entitled contentment.  Enjoy, you clueless shits.  Enjoy.

Thoughts On...

To quote the lyrics of one of my favorite Staind songs:  "It's been awhile..."

That's right kiddies, your buddy the Cynical Sarcastic is back and mouthing off once again.  I'd dearly love to be able to say that I've been quiet for the last week or so because I was wallowing in the afterglow of the new book's release.  I'd like to be able to tell you that I spent this period of silence in blessed relaxation and meditation. 

Hell, I'd even be happy to be able say the laptop crapped out on me.

But no, sadly, that is not the reason for my lack of blathering.  

The only way to really explain my recent rendition of the sound of silence is to crib a phrase from a friend of mine:  "I Got Nothin'."  Literally boys and girls, until I rolled my oversized hindquarters out of bed this morning, the creative impulse and I had parted company for a bit.  For the first time in quite a while, I had absolutely bupkiss to say on pretty much anything be it an opinion, a blog, a sentence in a book, or anything else.  Nada, zip, zilch, zero.  It's not that I haven't tried, trust me I have, but apparently when you have a talent for manifesting words from the ether and that talent takes a break on you, well, let's just say that anything I attempted to write last week would have been much better off written on a Macaroni Grill paper tablecloth and promptly disposed of in a similar fashion or as emergency toilet paper.

So, since it appears that this magical Monday morning has seen me re-inhabited by the need to scribble, I figured I would get things moving again by sharing a few thoughts and handling a little housekeeping. As per our little title, here are some thoughts on... 

... on this blog

After logging in occasionally to check the numbers over the last month or so, I've noticed that the CS has either gained a fair number of new readers or there are a bunch of you out there that just can't stop pulling up the posts to show people what it looks like when an abject idiot is allowed to type without supervision.  I'm going to feed the ego a bit and pray that the first scenario is true, even though the second seems pretty damn plausible and fairly amusing right about now as well!  In any event, if you are a new reader to my little ramblings, welcome and thanks for stopping by.  You get the same ten second speech everyone else did when I started this thing last year: I will probably offend / piss you off at least once a month.  Hopefully I can make you laugh and maybe even think with similar frequency.  Feel free to drop me a line at any time via thecynicalsarcastic@gmail.com with any ideas, opinions, op ed, and even pleas to just shut up.  Be forewarned that if you come off as a douche you may be the recipient of a warning shot across the bow, but hey, it's all fun and games in the end anyway. 

... on The Dark Knight Rises

Absolute genius.  I couldn't be happier with the way the trilogy wrapped up and thought that Chris Nolan and company smashed it out of the park.  As for the unfortunate tragedy in Colorado, well, my hope is that the media will for once do as it should and let a tragedy slip slowly from consciousness and not give that shit stain any more recognition.  Unfortunately I get the feeling that before all this is over with we're gonna learn what kind of print boxers that bung monkey was wearing under his body armor.

... on our illustrious president

I've made the decision that from now on, when used in regard to Buford Obama, I will no longer capitalize the word president.  After the unceasing round of idiocy that has spewed from that ass puppet of late, I refuse to acknowledge even the simple respect his office deserves.  I swear to you all that your local PTA President that spends her early afternoons playing ride-em' cowgirl on the pool boy has more leadership ability and basic business sense than that idiot. One can only hope that by November enough of our citizens will have grown tired of our commander-in-chief using our country like a fifty year old toothless fluffer with a bad case of lockjaw, get off our collective knees, find some dignity and toss that wanktard to the curb before we find our great nation reduced to trading bareback anal for day old bread in the back of China's station wagon.  Regardless of what the stereotypes may say about the endowment of Asian men, something tells me we all might just feel it if the big red one starts tapping on our back doors.  Wait, doesn't that qualify as government allowing small business to succeed?

... on writer's panic

I know we're all familiar with the often used phrase "writer's block."  Every monkey that puts pen to paper (or finger to keyboard as the case may be) bitches about it on a regular basis.  Sometimes the words they just don't a-flow.  What happens though when the words don't flow for an extended period?  I think every writer has a different length of time during which it doesn't really bother them too badly if no magic happens.  For those that barely have time to write a paragraph a day I imagine it can take a while.  For me, however, recent events have conspired to inform me that after about four days with no words I begin to freak the hell out.  Two novels in and I'm done?  Really?  THAT was the sum total of my literary career? Oh God! 

Sometimes I can be a really silly bastard.

Well kids, that's all for this morning.  Let's see if the rest of the day remains productive.

Oh Ye of Narrow Mind

"... There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Hamlet, Act I Scene V

It's not very often that I get a chance to trot out my love and appreciation of Shakespeare to use as part of a blog post.  People have a tendency to misread references to classical literature as an attempt to be haughty, snotty, or "better than" in a lot of cases.  Trust me kids, today that is just so very, very much not the case.

As I mentioned in yesterday's Friday mail call post, I'm trying to lean away from engaging the occasional moron who sends me an email fraught with overt stupidity.  I am, however, toying with adopting a rule that while one giggleshit may not be worth a response, five will get my attention.  To my way of thinking, the frequency of occurrence of five individuals outside of the Westboro Baptist Church all sharing the same brand of idiocy on a subject is so slim that I won't have to spend much time dealing with this.  By the way, if you are from the Westboro Baptist Church or affiliated with them in some way, THERE ARE GAY PEOPLE IN MY FIRST TWO BOOKS WHO SIN ON A VERY REGULAR BASIS.  I have a couple of signings coming up in the next few months.  I'd be happy to invite you to picket the hell out of my shit.  Nothing says massive book sales like protest signs. (Insert sound clip of "Sinner..." from Tommy Boy here.)

As a writer, or for that matter as a creative person of any ilk who produces fodder for the masses, one of your "professional" concerns is a concept called "the audience principle."  Essentially, if you continually piss off your readers, they will stop reading.  Unless you're just that good and they can't help themselves.  For the best explanation of this concept I've ever seen, check out Ben Affleck and Jason Lee's ComiCon scene at the beginning of Chasing Amy.  

Unfortunately kids, I've never really gotten a handle on the whole audience principle thing.  I tend to say what I think, come hell, high water, bad reviews, or coming off like an over-opinionated dick.  Sorry.  I guess when it all comes down to it, sometimes I get a bit overindulgent with my own "muchness."

To that end, I have to respond to this 'series' of emails I've received regarding the new book. Before I continue, as always, please remember that I love hearing from everyone with their opinions and comments on any of my work.  It's just that every now and then, well, some things burble up through the muck and I can't help but take a swat at them.  This is one of those cases.  I've received eight emails now berating me for being totally unrealistic with the character of Dina in that a truly gay woman would never fall in love with a man. These ladies are convinced that such a thing cannot and would not ever happen unless the woman was deluded or had, as one genius put it, "mislabelled" herself.  Well, here's my response to the whole "things that could never happen" argument.

Ornithorhynchus anatinus - and he's pleased to meet you.

Other than serving as proof that somebody at the ol' celestial creation station was rockin' ye olde ganj, the platypus is exactly one of those things that shouldn't have happened but did.  The simple truth to my character, ladies, is that iconic t-shirt slogan: Shit Happens.  But to be clear, it's not the fact that these good and noble guardians of vaginal power took issue with my literary creation that bothers me.  Honestly, I'm glad that something I created rankled anyone on any level enough to illicit a response.  What irritates me is that these apparently intelligent and self-possessed women are so tied into identity labels and what is apparently a very narrow view of the universe that they missed the whole point of the exercise. 

Hamlet was not wrong kids.  There are more things going on in this world than we can possibly understand or comprehend.  In my highly less than humble opinion, it's not our responsibility to decry the things we don't understand as wrong or not feasible or whatever.  Our driving force should be to open up the windows of our cobwebbed little noggins and let the proverbial sunshine in while we try to get a clue.  I don't mean this in a belittling way at all but as I kept reading this fairly articulate pile of male-bashing et al, I couldn't help but recall the older woman on the faux TV show in Starship Troopers who found the idea of a bug that thinks offensive.  It truly saddens me to know that anyone in our day and age is still so hung up on strapping a label around someone to define who they are that challenging that notion offends them.  Folks, if this was 1992 I'd get it, but now, really?

I guess my point is simply this.  We all have our little comfort zones where things happen in a way that we understand and everything fits nice and neatly.  The fact is that the world is just too full of wonder for any of us to have a hope of getting through it all without having to expand our concepts of the way the world works.  Things are going to happen and people are going to exist that we just don't understand or like.  Look, I not only got married once but now twice.  Talk about things that just aren't very freakin' likely to happen.  Maybe I should have had a platypus ring bearer...

There, see, I made it through an entire response to an inflammatory topic without calling anyone a narrow minded cunt waffle. Aren't you proud? 

Aww dammit.

Mail Call

I don't know how everyone else particularly feels about it today, but MAN has it been a long week!  I'm not sure what it is about not feeling well and all but it seems like last Sunday occurred about a month and half ago.

Now that I'm back among the living, I started going through both my personal and blog email accounts today and replying to messages from the course of the week.  There were a number of them that were not only worth a reply (yes, I'm trying to learn my lesson and not engage those ill prepared for a battle of wits) but were actually good enough to share with all of you as well.  Also, since the email response postings seem to be something a lot of you like to read according to the numbers, I think what I'll do is try to make this a regular Friday routine.  As usual some bits are edited but on the whole the message is the same.

I'm in the third year of my English degree.  My creative writing professors have encouraged me to pick a genre for my work and then stick with it so I can mature and grow my craft within it.  I have noticed that your novels are not in the same genre... will you elaborate on that decision?

Okay, here seems to be a great place for my standard disclaimer on the subject of the writer's craft.  I can only speak to what I learned in school and what I've learned from experience.  I tend to stick to Dennis Miller's great quote on the subject:  "I know shit. Write what you want to read."  Your professors are very correct in that you should find a genre that you enjoy and grow and develop within it, in my opinion particularly when you are starting out.  Remember that I've been doing this for twenty years give or take.  As far as why I don't stick in one genre, well, it's a fairly simple explanation.  I focus more on telling the story I want to tell, not what genre I want to force it into.  Bounce is a dramatic comedy / tragi-comedy / hell I'm not even sure, By Design is an unconventional romance, my next two are romances of a sort, and then I've got a murder mystery and a sci-fi tale on tap after that.  So, essentially, when it comes to genre advice, I got nothing.

If you'll pardon the pun, I've noticed that both of your novels are fairly soaked in sex.  Do you find that a necessary part of telling a story? 

Pun pardoned, but only because it wasn't that bad. The simple answer to your question is no, it's not necessary to use sex to tell a story.  The first two books contained a fair amount of sex because it was used as a  means of characterization.  Mack Reynolds is a pig who views women as conquests and his sexual exploits help to illustrate that.  Dina Sheridan is a very conflicted person whose sexual identity is in a constant state of flux.  I used both characters bedroom behavior, so to speak, to give the reader more insight into who they really are as people. My next book, however, will have only one or two implied sex scenes and absolutely nothing explicit.  It just doesn't need any.

Dude, seriously, enough with the redheads already...

How about this instead: I only have one redhead character remaining THAT I'VE PLANNED, and you've already met her.  Lina, Mack's "sister" from Bounce, is one of the two protagonists in Hurricane Carolina..  So, unless I just happen to run across another piece of inspiration that leads that way, I'm close to done with the ginger ladies.  Feel better?

This has nothing to do with writing.  In your last post you mentioned that your dog is a "Great Dane / Dodge Charger mix."  WTF?

Jake is a six year old Great Dane mix.  The vet's best guess was possibly a lab or boxer.  I say Dodge Charger just to be silly. I figured if you've read my blog the silly was sort of understood...

I think it's great that you're a man and write romance novels.  I was going to do one but my girl told me it would humiliate her.  What does your wife think?

First of all, if what you want to write is potentially upsetting to your girlfriend, I recommend trading in for a new model.  My ex-wife used to tell me regularly that I sucked as a writer and was wasting my time.  Of course all she ever read was a T.V. Guide, but I digress.  I listened and wasted five years I could have been scribbling away.  Fuck her, the Pontiac Grand-Am she rode in on, and the broom she flew off on.  Secondly, sir, I do NOT write romance novels.  That term implies the bodice-ripping tripe that sells by the case load at Wal-Mart.  Until such time as you read one of my characters "melting in passion at the sight of her lover's purple-headed ecstasy warrior" you may safely assume that I stand firm on that fact.  Should that happen, well, you can safely assume that there was a contract involved.  Oh, and just for your soon to be ex-girlfriend's edification, over 60% of the current true romance novel writers out there are men.  You have to be smart enough to read the front matter page because a lot of companies, Harlequin especially, use a popular female author's name for an entire series no matter who wrote it.  See what kind of useful information you pick up working in a library? As for my wife, well, she doesn't seem to really have an issue.  Her friends have read my stuff and no one has laughed in my face yet, so I guess we're good on that front.

You haven't written anything about Cleveland Library in a while.  Do you still volunteer there?

Folks, Cleveland Library is in desperate shape. We are staggeringly short on volunteer help and, at last count, we are in the last one or two months of funding.  I can't say this enough.  This project will go under and the community resources it provides will disappear without the support of its surrounding community.  If you live in the area, it's time to get involved - NOW.

Well kids, that's all the mail that's fit to print for this week.  I'll see you back here with more next Friday!

Damn That Muse and Her Honeyed Tongue

Over the course of the last three and a half days, I've been fighting with the worst migraine I've had the joy of dealing with since sometime in mid-February of this year.  It hit me hard in the middle of the night Sunday night rolling into Monday morning and the evil little brain cramp has been my dear friend and travelling companion ever since.  Hopefully this little slice of hell will be gone by tomorrow, but I digress.

I know that everyone who deals with multi-day migraines has differing experiences.  Mine usually cycle from one or two days of oh-dear-God-turn-off-that-damn-light pain and nausea into several more days of oh-look-everything-has-halos-and-it-hurts-to-think.  That's where I've been sitting now for about a day, generally fatigued from lack of sleep and ineffectual medication, when all of a sudden a few hours ago I got the urge to try to sit down and write.

I swear to all of you that I literally sat here, in front of this laptop, for almost two hours with the following typed on the screen:

asdfjkl;asdfjkl;asdfjkl;

it was a dark and stormy night, again

the quick brown fox jumped over the fat lazy dog

goddamn it i'm supposed to be good at this

hey cock waffle, pour genius from thine fingers or go get a real job

Yeah, it's that bad.  It then occurred to me that I've never really tried to write before when I've been dealing with a migraine.  So, being the ever inventive moron I truly am, I took another pill and begin to ponder the notion of inspiration, writer's block, and various other tripe until my foggy little puddle of brain gravy focused on a conversation I had a few weeks ago.  A new acquaintance and I were discussing where writer's find sources for inspiration when a rather attractive and highly well put together young woman walked by.  The acquaintance made a crass joke as to the myriad things that she could inspire then made his goodbyes and went on his merry, presumably to get back in his panel van and start trolling for high school girls. 

All of this got me pondering the notion of muses and how they truly relate to a writer's work. 

For those unfamiliar with the term, a muse in ancient Greek mythology was any of the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne.  Each was thought to protect and / or patron an individual art or science.  In writing parlance, a muse is usually the source of a writer's inspiration, oftentimes denoting a person to whom the writer has some form of strong emotional connection. 

I've known writers throughout my life that were absolutely devoid of talent without a muse present in their existence.  I had a friend in college who was absolutely brilliant, at least according to my creative writing professors, as long as he was with a woman who challenged him.  The second he grew bored with her - BAM - the poor guy couldn't write his way out of a paper bag.  I know of a very happily married author now who has written over ten novels who channels her need for a muse into men that she meets that she develops a crush on.  They serve their purpose for the duration of a book and then she moves on to the next crush and the next book.  The most absurd case I know of involves a writer friend who can only write well for the week following the first hook up with a new woman.  I swear to all of you that should you familiarize yourself with this woman's writing, it becomes so obvious when she's hit a sexual dry spell that she may as well change the font on what she's attempting to write.

Again, everyone is different and find inspiration in varying places.  I will admit to having had several muses in my life. Instead of providing me with a massive impetus to write and seemingly unending resources of talent, however, they gave me more of a deep understanding or insight into something I hadn't been exposed to before.  What's sort of amusing to me about the whole subject is that while I would consider the relationship with each of these women to have been intimate, in no case would I describe it as romantic.  It was something else entirely.  Of course what's also fairly odd about those relationships is that while each was responsible for a creative work of mine, they each also left a mark on me that has sort of stuck around.  My penchant for Jack Daniels, my interest in Anne Rice novels, my tolerance of old MTV animation, my love of the Highlander television show, my fascination with honey, even my appreciation of cigars to an extent: all of these things sprang from one of these women.  Of course I can also credit them with seed materials for both of the books I've published, hundreds of pages of short stories, and character model pieces that are not only sprinkled in my current books but in at least four of the six I have progress currently.  The insane part is with only one negative exception that I use to help create female characters I dislike, I have never been inspired to write by a single romantic relationship.  Yes, I'm well aware that little admission / omission will probably fetch me an ass-kicking from my wife but, as long as I'm being real about it to begin with, I might as well continue down the same patch of road.

It has also occurred to me that, with the completion of my second novel, I no longer have a current "muse," at least by my standards, that I'm in contact with.  I find it interesting that I'm still able to create without that kind of an influence in my life, but then again I have to be honest and admit that while I may not have those people in my life to that extent anymore I still feel like I have a wealth of material to work from.

This all leads me to a final question of sorts:  to all my fellow creatives out there - do you have a muse currently?  What do they give you / how do you receive inspiration from them / who are they?  I'd love to hear your stories as well.

For now, apparently the pill is finally kicking in and it's time to go fall down somewhere soft and try again tomorrow.  G'night all!

Here You Come to Save the Day!

It's That Time Again...

The Cynical Sarcastic is once again looking for Guest Bloggers!

Who can contribute?

Anyone with something to say!

What can you write about?

Anything!

Any requirements?

None!

How do I submit?

Drop me an email at thecynicalsarcastic@blogspot.com to let me know what you're writing about and then email me the post and any clip art you'd like to use when you're finished.

I'm looking for 5-10 guest bloggers over the course of the rest of the summer and any and all topics are welcome.  Do you have a book coming out?  Send in a sample chapter!  Have something to get off your chest?  Go for it!  Short fiction, long fiction, poetry, whatever you'd like to submit.  Here's a great chance to get your work seen and your opinion heard.

As usual, I expect these spots to go quickly so let me know if you're interested!

For God's Sake, Just Hush Already

Yep, it's been one of those mornings...

Several months ago I wrote a post entitled 'The Art of the Overshare" in which we discussed the fact that some people seem to feel the need to use social media to chronicle every nuance and iota of their existence as a way to victimize the rest of the world.  I know I've made it a habit in the past to try to not reuse ideas for content but you know, it's been about a week since I posted last and this whole 'overshare' thing is getting on my nerves once again, so as best as I can figure that sounds like a topic to me!

Once again to paraphrase the man, Mr. Dennis Miller, this is all just my opinion and I could be very, very wrong.

Kids, there are some people in this world that I consider it to be perfectly acceptable should they choose to over-indulge in the whole social media sharefest.  If you fall into one of these groups then by all means, throw caution to the wind and go for it.

If you're over the age of 65 and have finally gotten a handle on the whole interwebs thing, you have my support.  I personally don't care if you blather on about Aunt Helen's crusty old support stockings.  Just dive in and be happy, but please do be mindful that the world can see your postings and that cute picture of little Brian in the cowboy hat, gun belt, toy guns, cowboy boots, and nothing else will cause harm should it get out in public.  Yes Mother, this means you. 

If you have a chronic or terminal disease and use social media to talk about your condition on occasion but refrain from using it as a means to whine uncontrollably, proceed with blessings sir or madam.  I have a Facebook friend that I went to high school with that is either suffering from Chron's disease or Fibromyalgia.  I'm not naming names and honestly I'm not sure which it is because she doesn't discuss it all that often.  What impresses me is that I know this person is in daily pain but when they do mention it, it's mainly only to state that she's having a bad day or on occasion to ask for her friends to pray for her because she's in significant pain from a flare up.  I think that takes a lot of class personally.  I suffer from frequent and severe migraines so, to some small extent, I understand what she deals with and can appreciate the fact that she handles it with grace in public.

Lastly, if you have a child that you're proud of as a parent or relative et al, go for it within reason.  Protecting the safety of that child on the modern Internet is one thing, but carefully treading the line between sharing their accomplishments and using Facebook as your public refrigerator door is a balancing act for the ages.  Moderation is the key here kids.  Remember, your newborn is awesome and everyone wants to see pictures.  Their first successful diaper filling, well, not so much.

Now it's time to move on to those folks that seem to as of yet be unable to take a simple, subtle hint and just settle the hell down a bit.  First of all, I'd like to speak to the depressed people out there.  Please for the love of God will you stop using Facebook as a support group!  If I read one more 'I feel really down today and don't think anyone cares' post that some dillweed is using as a cry for help or attention, I swear I'm going to get in the car and drive them to the gun store myself.  Life sucks for all of us.  Deal with it, get on meds, or do something about it but please quit whining in public.  We don't need to hear it.  If you need a hug that fucking bad, email me and I will send you my address so you can come over.  I have a 140 lb Great Dane - Dodge Charger mix that loves everyone unequivocally and will hug you immediately upon entry.  Trust me, you'll be fine. 

Next I'd like to speak to all of you that are so happy about Jesus-Buddha-Krishna-Odin-the Goddess are whatever other Blessed-F'in-Be you're praying to this week that you just can't shut up about it on every possible variety of social media you can put your grubby little claws on.  You have every right to your faith and the enjoyment and fulfillment thereof.  In fact you have my full support to do so.  Please just do us all one little teeny tiny favor and tone it down just a bit.  No one out there spends their life in religious supplication unless you're wearing orange robes and making sand gardens.  You've got a job or kids or something else going on, right?  Talk about that for a change of pace occasionally.  I understand that your faith is a big part of your life but that can't be it, can it?  Similarly, if you choose to thank God publicly via social media for every little thing that happens in your life, you may want to knock the dust off your Bible and look up what it has to say about proselytizing in public.  Go ahead, we'll wait.  Actually, no we won't.  Catch up with us Sunday morning.  Now, however, if you're using social media as a surreptitious way to recruit for your faith, well, you may be barking up the wrong cat condo my friend.  There's a time and place for everything.  I will say this, however.  Have you ever noticed that of those folks that continually blather on about religious matter on Facebook, Christians seem to make up the vast majority?  Maybe instead of just hearing from one faction of the 'debate' all the time we need to open the floor to everyone else as well.  You know I only saw one Facebook post about the last Solstice that occurred and I've got a shit ton of pagan friends.  Maybe someone needs to start quoting lines from the Poetic and Prose Eddas with the same frequency others do Bible verses.  Now wouldn't that get interesting...

Finally, I know I should try to find a way to say this kindly but quite frankly my current migraine is pounding in that portion of my mind-pudding so I'll just be blunt.  We all have problems in our lives.  We all have challenges.  We all have things that hurt us and frustrate us and make general existence difficult.  Venting about it on occasion on social media is fine.  We all do it.  What just drives me batshit is pulling up my Facebook account and literally having page after page of whiny 'oh my life sucks' drivel from the same two or three people.  Yes, I'm aware the unfriending someone is a very simple process but in the specific cases I'm thinking of, well, they're actually worthwhile people and I'd hate to cut ties with them.  I think a lot of this comes from the fact that it's just easier to blurt something in 140 characters than it is to pick up the phone and talk to someone real.  We've talked before about the fact that the world is disconnecting from itself but never have I seen it more true than in the fact that we just don't seem to talk to each other that much anymore except over a keyboard.

Well, it's time to wrap this up.  Deep breath and moving on...

I Stand Corrected

Happy 4th of July everyone.  Enjoy yourselves, be safe, and please try very hard to not burn down any structures or peoples with your incendiary experiments of glory.  While you're at it today, tell a member of the armed forces you appreciate their sacrifice and for God's sake, when somebody plays the Star Spangled Banner and presents an American flag, salute or at least stand at attention.  Personally, if you're too big of a douche bagging sperm coozie to acknowledge this amazing country and show a little respect and patriotism, please for the love of all that is holy get the fuck out and go play hide the sausage in France or something.  It just annoys the piss out of me when people act as if they are entitled to act like a crunchy shit stain in public when they should be appreciative of what went into the making and the keeping of this country. 

Let's try an exercise for just a moment.  Repeat after me:  I pledge allegiance, to the flag, of the United States of America, and to the Republic, for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.  See, not so hard, right.  You get extra points if you actually got out of your recliner to say it!

Now, on to today's topic.  Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, I have changed my opinion on something and would like to retract nearly a year's worth of derogatory comments.  For the longest time I have used writer and actress Amber Benson's work and blog as the butt of an inordinate number of jokes.  After reading her blog post today and watching two of her newest movies on Netflix in the last week, I have to admit I have changed my opinion.

Ms. Benson, I stand corrected.  Not only do you have a fair measure of talent in your chosen fields but, more importantly, you apparently have the balls to speak your mind and mean it.  Among few other things in this world, I find that to be one of the more impressive things a person can do.  I have anonymously used you as a whipping post on an innumerable number of occasions and, although we've never actually met, I'm adult enough to admit when I'm wrong and I offer my apologies.

Check out her most recent blog post at http://amberbensonwrotethis.blogspot.com and see for yourself.

See, I am actually capable of behaving like a grown up despite my best public efforts to the contrary!

Later gaters!

Launch Day: By Design

Welcome to Launch Day for By Design.

This has been an eight year project for me and I'm glad to see it finally come to publication.

Currently it is available through Amazon, Kindle, and Smashwords but more outlets will follow over the course of the next few weeks.

LAUNCH DAY GIVEAWAY

As promised, there is a special promotion running for those who purchase the book

from today through July 7, 2012. 

Simply send me an email to thecynicalsarcastic@gmail.com and tell me where you purchased the book and I will send you an epub version of either 

By Design or Bounce by reply email.

(epub versions are compatible with any format e-reader or computer.)

Or Get Off The Pot: A Requiem for Unused Ideas

So a funny thing happened to me today that I just couldn't help but share with you all this evening.  As many of you know, I just put the final touches on my second novel, By Design, a few days ago.  Since that time I've been racking my brain trying to come up with a great idea for a blog post.

 

That was on Thursday.

 

I've been playing with a bunch of different ideas for some form of post today and up until a few hours ago, I still had nothing.  One of the tough parts about being a writer in any shape, form, or fashion is when the dreaded demon of writer's block shows it's ugly head and your ability to put words to paper is suddenly limited to dirty limericks and recycled 'your mama' jokes.  It's even worse when the normal measure of your talent as a writer is not much than that and a few decades worth of random sci-fi references rinsed through a pair of your dad's old black over-the-calf dress socks with several mason jars full of Percy Flower's finest.  (For those of you not from Johnston County, that means moonshine you silly city kid.)  The fog finally lifted, however, when I started thinking about next steps and what my next project was going to look like.  That's when it occurred to me.  

 

The subject for today's post is the unused idea.

As a writer, author, scribbler, whatever you wanna call it, ideas become your bread and butter.  Sometimes you may get one a week, sometimes you'll get so many in a day you can't possibly write them down fast enough.  That's one of the main reasons, aside from the sheer audacity and pretention of appearing to be a writer of some merit, that most of us have a pen and paper somewhere near our person at all times.  That's also one of the main reasons most of us talk to ourselves, but I digress.  If you were to take the time to inventory the contents of my hard drive, Dropbox folders, file cabinet, and truck you would find dozens of notebooks, reams of files, and megabytes of ideas, partially written pieces, and just various writer brain shit.

So what happens to all that good stuff, you may ask.  Herein lies the problem.  I think I may have stumbled upon the difference between an active writer who is trying to produce new work on a regular basis and the average hack who says they write but can barely sign their own name:  what happens to their, for lack of a better phrase, brain droppings.  (Posthumous thanks to the late great George Carlin as always.)  I am an omega level dweeb when it comes to old junk I wrote back before I started to grow ear and back hair because I swear that's when I had some of the best ideas of my life.  Granted I was in my early twenties and thought I was going to write a vampire novel but hey, if ya don't screw up ya can't learn nothing!  I love finding old notebooks or old college writing assignments because some of those ideas or even some of the odd turns of phrase I find within them are actually worthwhile.  Granted some make me want to throw up in my own shorts, but that's another story.  A side note to all of you early twenty-something scribblers out there who subject yourself to this blog: love letters are NEVER a good idea, whether you write them with the intention of giving them to someone or just to get it off your chest.  You will find them twenty years later and want to rip off your own toenails as punishment.  Just don't do it.  Say I love you with intercourse and faked orgasms like normal people do, for the love of all that's holy. Please I'm begging you.

Now what about the hacks, you ask?  What happens to their stuff? 

Abso-fraking-lutely nothing.  Not a glory hole puckering thing.  And that is a damn shame.

If you'll remember a few weeks back, I wrote about a young writer who had a brilliant character idea.  If I remember correctly, I even said that this idea was so brilliant that I would watch a movie based on that character if it was written in crayon.  Well, I got the chance to talk to this kid about his idea again this weekend.  Guess how much work has since gone into that project... Go ahead I'll wait... Exactly NONE!  This kid is sitting on sheer brilliance with no real intention to move forward on it.  I swear to you I wanted to shake the doucheburger.  I swear if I was single, younger, and somehow prettier I'd seduce his girlfriend just to punish the guy.  Am I saying it's not his right to do with his idea as he sees fit?  Absolutely!  What good is genius if you don't do something with it?

What I find the most frustrating about this guy's lack of motivation with his creation is that he's not the only one of his ilk out there.  I've had the priviledge of meeting a lot of independant / self-published writers over the course of the last year of widely varying levels of talent and experience.  The good ones fight with the need for inspiration and great ideas constantly.  The ones that aren't currently and may never be worth a shit wallow in the same old stuff day in and day out with no drive to move forward.  I recently heard someone admit that she had an awesome idea that she's sat on for five years just because she didn't have someone else to write it for her.  Oh-what-the-hell just didn't quite seem to cover that one for me, you know?

 Why does the obviously staggering pile of unused literary genius in the world bother me so badly?  It's really simple, actually.  All of us, every single one of us, have complained at one point or another about a lack of original creative thought in this world.  When are they going to make an original movie again?  Why can I predict the plot of most tv shows?  Why is every book lately some f'd up vampire retread wanting to be Twilight or handcuff novel wanting to be Fifty Shades of something or other.  The fact is that it is out there, sitting dormant on someone's shelf or hard drive, gathering dust or cyber critters, never to see the light of day.

The simple truth to all of this is that sometimes our old ideas really are some of our best ones.  I know of writers who are literally at this moment digging through their old bone collections as it were to mine for inspiration and new material.  Sadly for every one of those folks, I know of five others who are sitting on material that they think is too tough or too rough or too whatever to continue to work on or even start on in the first place.  To those kiddies all I can say is this:  the first sentence is always the hardest and all you have to do is try. 

If you need more platitudes than that, well, read someone else's blog.  I'm fresh out.

Now get off your collective asses and get to work being brilliant damn it!