Sitting down at a desk to write is a gentlemanly act. Even if you’re gifted with an X chromosome in place of the Y version I carry, sitting down to write is still an elegant experience. To plant your posterior in a chair, poise your fingertips over the keys, and open your mind to the possibilities – it’s adventurous and brave. It just is.
Of course there are staples of the writing trade. Pens and pencils come to mind, as do pads of paper, keyboards, Macintosh computers, Michael Dell, the fine people who created NeoOffice, Word, Wordperfect, Scrivener, and a slew of other useful software products. And alcohol.
Of all the alcohol laden options available to a writer, I will state unequivocally that whiskey is the most noble and productive of libations. This, after an exhaustive scientific study that ranged from my desk to the other side of my desk and back again. There, over near the calculator I picked up at Staples on a whim, is a glass of chilled golden liquid that will almost certainly result in this evening being more enjoyable than it might have otherwise been.
Whisky, or as it is referred to it in America, Canada, and Ireland, whiskey, is also a preferred drink of lawyers. Or it should be. Because the rules that distinguish whisky (Scotch) from whiskey (Irish) from Bourbon (American) from Rye (American or Canadian) are a legalistic jumble that no enhanced level of sobriety could possible decrypt. For instance, while American Rye Whiskey must be derived from a concoction of no less than 51 percent rye, Canadian Rye Whiskey may or may not have seen even a single grain of rye involved in the distillation process. Read More →
Some months ago I was on a train, headed from Washington D.C. to central Florida. I like traveling by train. Or at least, I find I am more likely to enjoy a train ride than I am to enjoy the cattle call cluster of a mess that commercial air travel has become. What I never expected however was an evening of thoroughly satisfying conversation that included an excellent book recommendation. I guess sometimes, you get more than you pay for.
My table mates at dinner were an older couple on their way to catch a cruise ship in south Florida. As we rolled through Virginia, the husband, a large, jovial man with a gift for conversation and a zest for life, matched me story for story. Retired now, he related that when he was a working stiff, he’d been a doctor. An anesthesiologist in fact. I found this ironic. How was it possible such an excellent conversationalist could have made his living by putting people to sleep?
The world is full of oddities. Thank goodness we stumble upon them from time to time.
During dinner, when the subject of books came up, as it invariably does, his smile brightened up to an even higher wattage than he’d shown to that point, exclaiming that his niece had just published a book that he was quite proud of. He said it was good. Funny, perceptive, and well worth reading. Yet he admitted with some slight embarrassment that he wouldn’t say the title out loud. Instead, he fumbled for his phone, tapped away for several seconds, then showed me the screen. On that little Chinese built glass panel was the cover of Amy Alkon’s masterwork, Good Manners for Nice People who Sometimes Say F*CK.Read More →
As you may know, I do not spend the bulk of my time in an office, head down, fingers poised over the keys, waiting for inspiration to strike. Rather, I prefer to get out and do things. Actual experiences make for better imagining when writing time rolls around.
This week I’m off seeking those experiences. You might even call this an adventure, but that would be an incorrect term. I’m seeking a little AirVenture in my life this week. That’s why I’m headed for Cheese-ville, just north of the Harley-Davidson factory in Madison, where cows roam free and wind turbines line the bean fields. If you’re looking for me this week, you’ll have to book a trip to Oshkosh, Wisconsin. That’s where I’ll be hanging out.
AirVenture is the largest aviation-oriented gathering in North America. If you’re into aviation at all, this is a must-see event. You’ve got to go at least once in your life. Maybe twice. Or more. It’s that good. Read More →
As we roll into Independence Day 2015, America is divided. Of course astute students of history will note America is always divided. And not just in two parts. This country is populated by an almost unimaginably diverse citizenry hailing from every corner of the world. And yes, I am aware the world is round and has not corners.
This year is unique, however. At least it’s unique in terms of the last half century. The Supreme Court has handed down an important ruling on the issue of what is allowable as a marriage in our nation. Secondarily, yet of no less importance is the sudden virulent backlash against a historic symbol of the south – the Confederate Stars and Bars.
As Bob Dylan noted in such timeless fashion, the time’s they are a’changin’. Of course, they always are. They always have been. Change is the natural order, no matter how hard we might try to stop it – change will come. Change always comes.Read More →
The plan was simple. I would get up early, grab a cup of coffee, then motor out to the local airport to meet my buddy, Earle. The two of us would then fly in Earle’s Cessna to the exotic sub-tropical city of Venice, Florida.
My mission was one of mercy. I’d committed to take an older gentleman flying. To give him an aerial tour of the Gulf Coast of Florida and the surrounding area. Although I’ve never met this fellow, I understand he has a real fondness for this big ‘ol sandbar where I, and he, make our home. And he is leaving soon, never to return. That’s weighty stuff.
Making this flight mattered to me. It meant something to Earle, too. Following through with the commitment to get both of them airborne was very nearly a sacred trust. I made a promise. A promise I was highly motivated to fulfill. Read More →
Have I ever mentioned how much I love Jane Waters Thomas? There are very few occurrences in my workday that are more enjoyable than spending time with Jane. She’s creative, adorable, curious, dedicated, and apparently indefatigable. Throw in a a few cameras, a production facility, and enough free to time really stretch out and talk about whatever crosses her mind, and you’re in for a good time. At least I was. I submit this video clip as evidence. Her interview in the Writers Den at PGTV is one of the more enjoyable interactions I’ve had while promoting my work. I only hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Sci fi is a literary genre that’s long been unappreciated amongst serious readers, and occasionally maligned as unfit for consumption by serious human beings. I’ll make the argument that sci fi is as valid and compelling a form of storytelling as any other. In fact, I’ll go one further than that. I’ll actually give you five great reasons you should be reading sci fi now, and in the future.
And those reasons are…
1: You might learn something. A considerable percentage of sci fi stories are based, at least loosely, on real scientific principles. Sci fi writers tend to be forward thinking, creative types who have actually contributed to your real life as well as to their literary output. Think Arthur C. Clarke, Robert Heinlein, and Michael Crichton .
2: Escapism. Real life is stressful enough. A good sci fi story can transport you to a place where the IRS doesn’t exist, mortgage payments are unheard of, and the kid’s orthodontist bill never comes. Plus, how often do you get to be a bystander who watches in total safety while an entire plantary system is overrun by invading hordes of extra-terrestrial super-soldiers? Read More →
For years I wanted an airplane of my own. Not as a status symbol. I’m far to cheap to buy anything that would be impressive to others in that sense. No, I simply wanted an airplane that I could go out and fly without having to make prior arrangements. When the sky is clear and the sun is low and the evening is inviting – I want to go fly. And so I wanted an airplane.
This goal went unfulfilled for more than twenty years, until I found this little beauty. It’s a 1963 Cessna 150C, a two seat trainer and recreational aircraft that is inexpensive to buy, inexpensive to own, and a lot of fun to fly. It’s slow by aviation standards, cruising along at only 90 knots or so (103 mph). But the view is fantastic, the simplicity is appealing, and the longevity of the airplane has been well proven. So I bought it. I was happy. A bit nervous perhaps, since this is the first airplane I’ve actually owned. But happy. Read More →
To this point in my life and my work, I remain a stalwart of the printed page. That is true, even while I publish ebooks, utilizing the Internet to cut cost and widen the availability of the work I do. I like print. I enjoy the hard-copy product that has been with us for hundreds of years. Although the digital version may be more durable in the long run, the print copy feels traditional and at least a little comforting at times. So I continue to write for print each week, and I like it.
One of the publications I contribute to is a local print publication. The 863 Magazine is an invention of Sergio and Andrea Cruz. Passionate promoters of a lifestyle many aspire to, these two never fail to make me smile when we meet, and always remind me why it is better to live a life you love than it is to covet material wealth above all else. I’m proud to write for 863. The title itself establishes the focus of the magazine – on the people, products, events, and points of interest contained within the 863 area code. Central Florida never looked so authentic.
Like so many local publications, 863 works with some talented writers. I know and like several of them, both personally and professionally. And like a growing number of print publications, 863 is also available digitally. At the very least that means snowbirds who spend the summers up north and the winters down south, can keep up with the goings on in the region via their PC, Mac, tablet, phone, or other device.
My latest contribution to 863 has to do with getting older. I am doing that, for certain. So far I kind of like the journey. But I reserve the right to change my mind. I just hope the trip is as entertaining for you as it has been for me. Read More →
In the late 1980s I lived in New York City. My apartment was in Greenwich Village, in keeping with my basic philosophy of NYC. My philosphy is this; if you’re going to live in New York City, live in Manhattan. If you’re going to live in Manhattan, live in the Village. In my case, the apartment was on Bleecker St. Specifically, 177 Bleecker St. Three members of my band lived in the same small, roach-infested apartment, where our Super, a well-worn Jamaican named Johnny referred to my roommates and me collectively as, “Beeeeeaaatlessssss.” His voice was low and rough from years of smoking things he really shouldn’t have been smoking. It dragged on forever it seemed. “Beeeaaatles,” he’d say every time he saw one of us in the hall or on the street. For all I knew the Fab Four were the only band he knew. I’m not aware of him ever seeing us perform, either. But still, Johnny religiously referred to each of the three of us, individually or in a group as, “Beeeeaaatles.”
It was kind of flattering in a weird, not particularly productive kind of way. Still, flattery is almost always appreciated on some level, and we did appreciate the humor of Johnny’s perspective on who he thought we were, or who we might be in the future.
To be clear, my band never made the former Beatles sweat about their legacy. Not for a moment. Although we were pretty good. But that’s another story altogether.
The New York City memory I cling to most had nothing to do with music, or live performance, or much of what I was up to in those days. No, my favorite memory has a literary twist to it. Read More →