Books on My Theoretical Nightstand

So it's kinda like a power outage used to be.  Can't get onto facebook for whatever reason, so I'm suddenly flush with opportunity.  Why not write a blog entry?

I'm still getting the word out about my book, The Raging, Flaming Goat of Samos, and I'm still selling copies.  It's not jumping off the shelves, but it is moving.  Met a former coworker today who said she'd get 3 copies from Amazon.  So onward goes the flow of this business...  Gonna do a book signing at Mom's house in Escalon on Nov. 10th, and another one at our house in Santa Clara on Dec. 2nd.  Should be fun.  And we're sure to have food and drinks available.

I don't really feel much else driving me to write about it.  Is this was writer's block feels like?  I could go on about the daily mundane this and that, but then, I want to attract people to this blog, not repel them.  So maybe I need to do an exercise of some sort.  It's been a long time since I did a "Journal Jar" prompt-- because I did all of the ones that I had.  Please give me a moment to produce a writer's prompt...

Oh yeah, before I go off on a wild lemur chase, I was planning on talking about the book that I got recently at the recommendation of one of my colleagues from the writing group I've been attending at Stanford.  It's called "Am I Bipolar or Waking Up?" by Sean Blackwell, and I'm itching to get started.  Yet another book to start.  Maybe I should try and finish one sometime soon.  Here's my list of recently (sort of) started but as yet to finish books:

1.  "On Writing" by Steven King
2.  "The Man Behind the Microchip" by Leslie Berlin
3.  "Finding Our Way" by Barry W. Holtz
4.  "Finding Your Bipolar Muse" by Lana R. Castle
5.  "Henry Miller on Writing," edited by Thomas H. Moore
6.  "Food Not Lawns" by H.C. Flores
7.  "Psilocybin Mushrooms of the World" by Paul Stamets

I'm sure I have more starts among my shelves, but these are the most recent ones I've tried to embark upon but haven't had the follow-through tenacity to get any of them "done."  Although, really, I read most of the actual reading material in the Stamets book, and just didn't read the field/identification guide page by page.  So maybe that one shouldn't be on this list.

 I read about two fifths of the bipolar book before I had to return it to the library.  I like it and have since purchased my own copy, but I haven't been reading much and it is just sitting there.  My mom read it, however, and really liked it-- filled it with sticky notes and bought me a new copy so she could keep it for herself, along with her notes.  My copy was used, but she bought me a new spanking one.  Brand spanking new, that is, just so there's no confusion.  It's been years since she spanked me.  At least a couple.

I've also put in some time with "Food Not Lawns," and it's been inspiring, if not daunting and overwhelming.  I would love to enlist the principles it cites and get my yards producing food for me and my family and community, instead of just sucking money from my bank account, watering a lawn that is primarily for looks only.  But, I'm handcuffed by my idealism, and my wife is not real patient with me and my half- to less-than-half- started projects.  And who can blame her?  Everything I do seems to come about out of process, and that process is ongoing.  I only try to approach mastery, I never seem to attain it.

"The Man Behind the Microchip" is a book I gave to my dad for Christmas in 2005.  It's about Robert Noyce, a man that connects my dad and I through Noyce's life and accomplishments.  My dad met Noyce as an employee at Intel in the early days of its inception.  I'm connected to Noyce because he was from Grinnell and is quite a presence at the college that I attended there.  Noyce and I are alumni.  But my dad met him, and worked for him.  Dad read the book and recommended that I read it, and even though I have wanted to, I just haven't made the time and effort to get it done.  Such is life.  Maybe as the weather changes to cooler and/or rainy I'll find myself with more time to just read.  But then again...  I guess we'll just have to see.

The Perfect Machine

There are lots of things swimming around in my head today, so let's get started.  Fresh.

I pause.  Where to start?  Uh-oh.  I freeze.  Could it be?

Writer's block?  No!

Maybe.  I'll just have to try and write through it.

Got something in the mail yesterday advertising this year's Bioneers Conference in October.  Really do love that organization.  They're inspiring and informative.  They provide vision and tutelage in these days of dire conditions and underwhelming mainstream information.  They complement the movements that they feature and endorse.  It's a wonderful thing.

I'm sensing that I am going to be working on my books a lot in the coming months.  Both my picture book, that I'm  now considering as less of a children's book and more of an adult story perhaps.  I don't know.  But it is still enticing me to look at it and work on it.  I want to do more work with the illustrations, make them "pop" more.  And I'll take the copy that I made to my college reunion to get some more feedback from friends and colleagues. 

I'm also feeling myself ramp up towards writing about Greece more.  I've started a compilation file of many of the blog posts that I've done and am looking to go through and expand on things.  Writing about doing this is part of the project, too.  Making myself accountable for my brainstorms.

I'm seeing things come together for me.  I am settling into a rhythm.  I can sense a new dawning of production and creativity.  I can feel myself sprouting new limbs, fresh wings.  I am transforming into the being that I want to be, the angelic temple with fortitude and moxie.  I am coming of age, awakening from my slumber.  I am bringing forth the tools to build the temple.  I have bricks and mortar and sweat.  I have mud and guts and strength.  I bring a fountain that sustains, flowing as a river.  I am finding my way.  I am creating with the creator.  I am lifting me up and stretching my lengths.

I will be heard.  I will be read.  I will write and draw and create.  I will find the answers to my questions.  I will find the path that leads me home.  I will make the perfect breakfast.  I will drink my fill.  I will turn water into fuel.  I will my way into my future.  I make my world, my reality.  I bring it up out of the ashes and blow off the dust, and thrust it into the water to the sizzling sounds of its baptism.  It emerges still warm, fresh.  Anew with purpose.  The perfect tool.  The perfect machine.

That's me.  The Perfect Machine.  Making it perfect, one step at a time.  I will walk this perfect journey to the house that holds my ideal.  I will make the trip through the rain and the heat.  I can endure, and I will.

This too shall pass.  It will lead me to the promised land.

Peace Is Good Food

Another April blog entry.  Deal with it.

I'm writing tonight because it's what I do.  What I do well.  What I am trying to do with my life.  You wanna help?  Keep reading. 

Thanks.

So.  Um.  And also tell some friends about my blog.  Spread the word.  Let's get this thing started here.

I'm doing well, thank you.  I started a new job and had a really good night there tonight.  Love sitting in my shorts, listening to my favorite music, doing a simple task and doing it well.  And enjoying it.  It was like I hit a jackpot tonight and saw everything through the happy lens. 

I was tagging pictures.  Pictures of a lot of what people might consider as "nothing" or "ugly" or something like that.  But I was noticing how I was getting to see, through these pictures, a part of the world that I had never seen.  There were brilliant cloud formations, sunsets, trees, interesting mailboxes even.  There was so much beauty to behold.  My eye was trained-- I had to keep reminding myself not to dwell on things and move on to the next task.  But it was almost like watching a movie or a music video, with my iPod providing the audio track.  I drowned out the chatter of my coworkers and focused on the task and had fun doing it.

The big boss must have noticed, because she came out and checked on me, then offered me a new chair.  Thought that was nice.  The one I had been using had a broken arm support, and the new one has a nice springy aspirator that bounces when I sit down.  Felt nice to have something nice done for me.

I really felt tonight that I was where I need to be.  I was comfortable, at peace.  I wasn't lamenting being where I was.  I was present in the moment, and it felt wonderful.  May we all feel such joy in the moment.

It's warm in here tonight, I'm sweating just sitting here writing.  I'm having my Smirnoff "tall-boy" of sorts, and life is good.  I'm making progress on my dreams.  I can feel it.  I'm healthy, and I know it now.  I have my faculties back.  I feel like I can handle things again.  I trust myself and my judgement.  Things are good.

Looking forward to May.  My birthday's right around the corner.  What are you gonna get me?  I love presents.

What do I want?  I want... I want you to buy my book when it comes out.  Wanna help me get it published?  We could try and work something out...  put in your pre-order of the Raging, Flaming Goat of Samos now, and I'll send it to you when it's ready.  Should be about ten bucks a book, I reckon.  Sure, you can send me cash, if you're so inclined.  Or a check.  Whatever.

At the end of next month, I'll be attending my Grinnell reunion in Grinnell, IA.  Really looking forward to seeing folks again.  I love me some Grinnellians.  Most of 'em.  Haven't met them all.

So.  Good night.  It was and it is.  So goodnight, I say.  Good night.

It's Magic, You Know

Another Journal Jar entry, coming right up!

Do you have a favorite author?  Who?  Why?

I think one of my favorite authors is Tom Robbins, because he makes me laugh, and brings a sense of wonder and awe to the curious exploration of our universe.  I also love Anne Lamott, for much the same reason-- she makes me laugh and she identifies the heart and grit in life's lessons.  Both can describe things in unique ways that tug at emotions and make the words elicit a reality to be experienced.

I most recently read Tom Robbins' "B is For Beer" and enjoyed it.  Wouldn't call it my favorite Tom Robbins book, by any means, but still very entertaining.  The only thing of Tom Robbins' that I haven't yet finished is his book of short works, "Wild Ducks Flying Backwards."  Don't know why I haven't gobbled that up-- perhaps because it's a collection of short works, so there isn't the nagging suspense to pull me through to the end of it all.  Or perhaps I'm savoring it because it's the last virgin snow to navigate or consume...  I think it also has to do with the fact that I'm just now getting back into reading again.  Up until a few months ago, my reading comprehension sucked, I think mostly due to the meds that I'm on.  Lithium creates a dulling of the intellect and kind of mashes experiences together with the same mundane emotion so that everything is just kind of blah in recollection.  But I'm doing better now, on the cocktail I'm on, so yipee.  Oh, I mean, Yipee!

I still think Anne Lamott's "Operating Instructions" is my favorite book of hers.  Although I really enjoyed "Bird by Bird" as well, especially from a writer's perspective.  But the rawness that she captures of skilled navigation-- inspired, really-- of life through crisis and transformation is astounding and somehow comforting.  She finds her way through the unknown path that is motherhood, and she does it by herself, at the same time she is building sobriety and getting through /life.  Her words bring laughter and tears and no hollow emotions. 

It's been many years since I've read any of these books, and still they are with me.  And still, I would like to read them again.  That's pretty cool.

I can't decide on my favorite Tom Robbins book, but it's between "Jitterbug Perfume," the first of his that I ever read, and "Skinny Legs and All."  Both are what I aspire to do with my writing.  Tickle, taunt, ravage, repair.  Educate.  Entertain.  Love.  Learn.  Lavish.

There are trillions of things at work here.  Connections to be made and undone.  And yet, we are all connected.  We are all one.  It's magic.  Enjoy it.

What Is Special About Learning

Gonna have to keep after it, this jar of journal, if I am to finish by year's end.  So.  Onward.

What special skills did you learn as a child?  Who taught you?

Nothing immediately jumps to mind on those questions.  I could talk about reading, but I've already blogged about that here.  And I wouldn't classify that as a special skill, necessarily.  I mean, reading is widely taught to almost all individuals throughout the world.  Getting at a more specialized skill that I learned is going to be difficult.

And don't misunderstand me-- I believe reading is a very special skill that is so very important.  But my feeling here is to try and focus on a skill or skills that were unique to my experience.  That's how I'm interpreting the word special, in this case, anyway.

For some reason one of the first things I thought of was fishing with my dad.  He taught me how to bait a hook, cast the line, "troll", and even clean fish.  Not everybody knows how to do such things.  In fact, I know people who shy away from such things, are squeamish of cleaning fish.  I guess I can understand that, but it's something I think one can overcome with a little care and patience.

We used to fish off the bank of the lake at Lake Shasta, back when we had a cabin up there.  Some years the drought was such that there wasn't any water in the part of the lake closest to our cabin.  But other years were better.  There was one day that we fished out there about the entire day.  I think that was the time that I ended up with about forty mosquito bites around my neck and shoulders, as we fished into the evening and as the sun went down, the bugs came out in full force.  And I was wearing a tank-top, so a lot of skin was exposed.  Very itchy.

Let's see.  I learned how to ride a bike... how to do yardwork... how to fire a rifle... Still, I just am not coming up with something that satisfies my feeling for the unique, special skill that I'm looking for here.  I learned things when I went to YMCA camps-- that's where I fired the .22 rifle.  I learned arts and crafts there too, carving a little something out of a piece of sandstone, weaving vinyl strands into a lanyard/key chain... making "godseyes" out of yarn and popsicle sticks... I learned to cook fairly early in my childhood, cooking with my mom and in the 3rd grade, when my babysitter took a group of kids out of the classroom and cooked each week in the school cafeteria.  We then made up recipe books for Mother's Day out of all the recipes we had done.

I learned a lot about tools and craftsmanship from my dad.  Dad had a lot of tools and was very crafty and industrious, designing and building things all the time.  From him I learned about channel locks, socket sets (both metric and standard), vise grips and other pliers, wire cutters, soldering irons, measuring squares, drills, saws, hammers, screwdrivers, allen wrenches, tin snips, electricity meters, stud finders, mollies, woodscrews, finishing nails, and many other special things.  I learned to have an attention for details and safety when dealing with such things.  I learned to respect tools and take care of them.  Although I don't think I ever did as good a job of it as Dad did.

I guess I could say that I learned a lot of special skills from my mom and dad that I use to this day and into the future.  Thanks for all that, mom and dad.  You guys rock.

Just Some Favorite Things

What is your favorite movie, book, poem and song?

My favorite movie is His Girl Friday.  That or It's a Wonderful Life.  And I really liked Running On Empty.

My favorite book is Skinny Legs and All.  Among others.  Hard for me to choose favorites, but that one's up there.  So is Ishmael.  And Writing Down the Bones.

Favorite poem?  Hmm.  Something by Maya Angelou?  I'm not really keen on poetry.  But I like a lot of African American Literature, there are some great works there.  Hard to name a favorite though.

My favorite song is "As" by Stevie Wonder.  Beautiful.  Amazing lyrics and masterfully sung by my favorite artist.

Book Is Good Food

What do books mean to you?

Whoa. Ever since I read Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, books have been even more important to me. For those not familiar with Fahrenheit 451, it’s set in a future time when firefighters are rendered obsolete due to the invention of fireproofing technology, so they are re-engineered by the government to collect and burn books instead. (How’s that for a synopsis, eh?) I wonder how Bradbury would deal with the advent of digital technology and the scanning of books and print documents into electronic storage… Is Ray still with us? (A quick check of Wikipedia says Ray is a fine 89…)

I’ve always loved books. They are conduits. Wormholes. Spaceships. They can take you through space and time to places real or imagined. They are like God. Powerful. Unlimited.

I remember loving books from a very young age. My mom enrolled me in a book club when I was 2 or so, and I’d get a book, full of colors and dreams, every week (I think. I’ll let her do the fact checking on all that.) I still have some of those books.

In the 1st grade, we were to read as many books as we could for a contest– each student had a “bookworm” where the teacher would write the titles of the books each had read. I filled up my worm so that she had to add segments to the tail for additional space for titles. I didn’t read the most in the class, but I read a lot.

When my grandfather died, after my dad settled the estate, he gave my sister and I a sum of money that we were to use in a meaningful manner, to honor our grandparents (Grandma Rose had passed several years earlier.) I took the opportunity to go book shopping, investing in titles that I thought would stick with me in my life. It was a glorious shopping spree, and I still had most of the money left. But I had filled my arms with enough wisdom and intellect to travel the universe and return with stories of my own. I still have most if not all of those books I bought that day, and although I haven’t read them all, I still intend to.

Books for me are an investment. They’re like investing in stocks and bonds. If carefully selected, books can not only hold their value, but increase exponentially. Because they invest in the reader, in the form of knowledge and imagination.

Books are powerful, indeed. Why do you think fascist governments ban and burn them? Not because they’re offensive, vulgar, anti-Christ, or whatever reason they try to use– but because they give power to the people. The written word is an immensely powerful tool in foraging for truth, resonating with communities, and fortifying opinions. It sparks thought and allows for self reflection and development. It is the stuff of revolution.

So books mean freedom to me. A book is freedom.