Inauguration Day

Here in the US, today is Inauguration Day: the day when we swear in the new President and prepare ourselves for the next four years.  I’ll be honest, I’m not looking forward to the new administration.  I have far too many friends who stand to suffer considerably as the powers that be systematically strip away a lot of the progress that was made over the last eight years.  Or eighty years, even.  It’s really hard to gauge how bad it’s going to get.

I’ve always been a proponent of the belief that the President, as a single individual with constitutionally-limited powers, can only do so much.  It’s not like being an absolute monarch, after all.  The President has two other branches of the federal government to hold him in check, not to mention his own branch filled with advisers and experts.  But this is a unique situation: the same political party controls both houses of Congress and the Presidency, and gets to appoint at least one Supreme Court Justice in the next four years.  All of that changes the dynamics of things.  Already, Congress is working to dismantle the Affordable Care Act, which – if stories from the internet are to be believed – folks across the country didn’t realize was the same thing as Obamacare (and there’s the danger of letting your opponent handle all the branding, guys: they can make it sound downright awful to you even if it’s benefiting you).

Now, I’m a straight white guy.  In many regards, nothing that happens in the next four years will hurt me in the least, assuming I don’t lose my job and have to find a new one (I wouldn’t be able to get insurance with the ACA gone, ’cause the “no pre-existing conditions” bit of the ACA – the part virtually everyone who doesn’t work for a health insurance company loves about the law – would be gone, and diabetes and mental health are huge red flags for insurance companies).  But I have lots of friends who will be affected by the sort of changes the part in power is talking about doing.  Friends who are immigrants.  Friends who are Muslim.  Friends who are gay and lesbian.  Friends with health issues and dire financial straits and all sorts of other problems.  Problems that can only be amplified by the lack of compassion the people in power display.

So, I’m spending this particular Inauguration Day in contemplation.  Thinking about what I can do to be an ally to those in need.  Thinking about how I can speak up and speak out to protect those who don’t have the same privilege and safety that I do.  Thinking about how to oppose tyranny and stand for what’s right.  Thinking about how to use the things I create – my novels, my music, my comics – to speak out against oppression and those who would do harm to those who are less-fortunate or otherwise unable to defend themselves.  I think, and I worry, and I hope and pray I can be a force for positive change.

History has its eyes on us, America.  Let’s make sure the next four years aren’t the first section of the chapter of the history textbook about America’s collapse.

Housekeeping

Conventional wisdom would indicate that the absolute worst time for an author to drop off the face of the earth would be in the month following his book’s release.  But hey, everything else about how I do things defies wisdom (conventional or otherwise), so why would I buck the trend here?

Anyway, a couple of things before I bury myself under my Author Rock™* again and get back to creating stuff.

1. The Invisible Crown is available for the Kindle, Smashwords, and as a dead-tree-actual-physical-book!  So many ways for you to show you love me.

2. Speaking of showing me love, reviews on Amazon and Goodreads are welcomed and encouraged!  Reviews help sell books, assuming they aren’t just trashing the book or my new haircut.

3. Fellow Royal James author Steen Jones has a novel coming out next month, and the pre-order for it is up today!  I’m personally super-excited about this book.  Modern-day fantasy with gateways to different worlds?  That is my jam, folks.  She’s also running a giveaway thing on her blog if you pre-order the book and snap a pic of your receipt, so you should do that.

Anyway, the underside of that Author Rock™ isn’t going to describe itself via haiku, so I’m off to go do something very much like that.

* – All authors live under rocks.  It’s where we’re most comfortable.  The official Author Rock™ is only available to any author who wants one and is willing to lug the thing around.  It is quite large and heavy, as befits a rock.

Good Vs. Awesome

The Wife and I attended a party at a friend’s place over New Year’s, where I ended up having a discussion with another friend (one of my beta readers, actually) with whom I am collaborating on a musical project this year.  She was lamenting her poor skills on the ukulele, the key instrument in the project, saying she wished she was actually good at it.

“If punk music has taught me anything,” I said, “it’s that you don’t have to be good to be awesome.”

And it got me thinking about all the folks out there who are awesome if not actually, technically good.  Take Neil Young for example.  The man’s singing voice is best described as a strangled yelp.  It sounds like someone is throttling a sick goose.  In technical terms, the man’s voice is just godawful.  He once played a guitar solo that was just the same note played 37 times.

And yet…damn, when his stuff works, it really works.  Music – and most other creative expression – isn’t just about technical prowess.  It’s also about the evocative, emotional expression.  In that regard, Neil Young is an awesome singer.  You only have to listen to “The Needle and the Damage Done” to hear the frustration and despair he feels.  His guitar playing, while often grungy and sloppy, is very emotionally-fulfilling.

Bob Dylan’s another great example.  No one can credit him with being a tehinically good singer, but take a listen to “Blind Willie McTell” and tell me that’s not a haunting song.

Like at artists like Chegal, or Picasso, or Andy Warhol.  They’re not able to perfectly recreate the details of the world around them, but they’re evocative and powerful in ways that are sometimes hard to describe.  Awesome without being good.

Anybody can play or write or draw something perfectly.  With enough practice, you can master the art of crafting a sentence or a painting or a guitar chord.  But it’s how you play things, the sounds and colors and words you don’t use.  The way you use the ones you do put to effect.  That’s what really matters, honestly.

It’s not about being good.  It’s about using what you’ve got to be awesome.

I Need Reviews!

So, as you may or may not be aware (and I’m not sure what the scenario is for that second option; maybe you were in a coma until this morning?  Or living under a literal rock without wifi?), my book is now available.  And, though I don’t know any actual numbers, a non-zero number of copies of the thing have been purchased!  This is wonderful!  It means my publisher is likely to continue giving me contracts for future books.

Of course, it’s a brand-spanking-new book, and as such it currently has zero reviews on Amazon and just one rating over at Goodreads.  This is a thing I’d like to see change!  Book reviews for small and indie authors are a necessary, vital part of the process.  No one (aside from my parents and grandparents, who love me but don’t write too many reviews) really knows about me or my book, and word of mouth is the best way to spread…well, the word.

That’s where all of you come in!  If you’ve read the book, give it a quick review!  It doesn’t have to be a massive, multi-paragraph ode to my authorial genius.  It can be as simple as, “I really enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it.”  It also doesn’t have to be a five-star rave.  If you only kinda liked the book, that’s okay!  Even a three-star, “Eh, it was a’ight,” review is still better than no reviews.  Honest reviews are always appreciated.  Feedback and criticism are okay.  I welcome it, in fact.  Pointing out shortcomings in my writing can help me become a better writer, if it’s done properly (if it’s done improperly, or you’re just crapping on me to be a jerk, I will probably completely disregard what you said and make disparaging comments about you, the unnamed, unknown reviewer, to my wife, who tolerates my fragile ego shenanigans with grace and the occasional eye roll).

But please, share the book, tell people about it, and write reviews!  Reviews help out tremendously, encouraging readers to take a risk with an unknown author.  They also help improve the algorithms used to show folks other books they might like when they’re perusing Amazon or Goodreads, and increased eyeballs will only bring more readers in.

Hopefully, we’ll have the physical version available soon, as well as the iBooks and Nook versions.  Keep reading, and thanks!

Nostalgia Trip

I spent Christmas visiting family and friends back in Oklahoma.  It was nice to get to see everyone and cruise past some of my old haunts, but there was a moment that left me feeling a bit…off.

See, we were going to a friend of mine’s house on Christmas Eve.  She lives just off a road I’ve been down dozens, hundreds, thousands of times in my life, in a town I grew up in and spent years wandering.  I should have been able to find the place in my sleep.  And yet, I drove right past the turn, kept driving, and only figured out I’d gone too far when I came to the next major intersection several blocks up.  It threw me, not making the turn automatically, not knowing that was where the turn should be.

Now, I could easily blame it on the fact that it was night time, or that I just wasn’t paying very close attention.  But the truth was, I forgot where I was going in my own hometown.

My wife pointed out that I hadn’t lived there since I was in high school, not full-time, anyway.  Sure, I’d come back for breaks and during the summer in college, and I lived nearby during graduate school, but I haven’t frequented those streets with any regularity since I moved to Virginia twelve years ago.  It’s natural to lose some of that mental map I’d built up over the years.  But it was still a point of sadness for me, this minor misstep, because it means either (a) I’m getting dumb or (b) I’m losing a bit of the past because it’s not getting used with any real frequency.

Maybe visiting home for the holidays just left me feeling a bit nostalgic for a time that was most certainly not nearly as wonderful and pleasant as I’m remembering.  But it caught me off guard and left me feeling a little sad.

Release Day!

It’s finally here!  The Invisible Crown is now available for you to purchase and read!  I’m very excited for all of you to finally get to see the book.  Thanks to the folks at Royal James Publishing for helping get this out in the world.  If you like the book, don’t forget to leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads (or, hey, both).  Word of mouth is my most powerful marketing tool.

This also seems like an appropriate situation for this:

Letting Go

It’s less than two weeks away.  On December 19, you can hold my book in your hot little hands…well, the kindle version.  You can order a print copy that day, but you won’t get it until a few days later.  Maybe in time for Christmas?  I honestly do not know.

Working with a publisher is definitely different than working by myself, though.  One of the biggest differences is the lack of control I have over things.  I want to do things my way, put the book out when I’m ready to do so, things like that.  I’ve never been good at relinquishing control of things.  Trusting someone else with the story I’ve been working on for over a decade?  It’s tough.

But those are just my hang ups.  Working with Royal James Publishing should ultimately be pretty rewarding.  They’ve been a big help so far with helping set up the marketing and all that.  The cover turned out great, even if they didn’t go with my original idea (I figure they’ve got actual experience designing covers and things, whereas I do not, so I’m gonna trust they know what they’re doing.  Besides, I really do like the cover a lot).  I have to trust my partners in this.  They want this book to be successful as much as I do.  I mean, for me, it’s a passion project, but not my only source of income.  Not even my primary source of income.  Hell, maybe not even my secondary source of income (we’re talking tertiary, behind my day job and driving for Uber, largely because I’ve made a grand total of $0 off the book so far).  I mostly just want folks to read and enjoy my book.  The publisher wants it to be financially successful.

So, yeah, hard as it is for me to give up control of things, as hard as it is for me to let someone else take responsibility for aspects of my work, I don’t really have a choice at the moment.  And that’s okay.  Learning to let go can be a liberating experience.

Dream a Little Dream

I don’t really remember my dreams that often.  I never really have.  A few have stuck out over the years, though.

Probably my earliest remembered dream was when I was around nine or ten.  I dreamed I was at my grandparents’ house in Okemah, OK, the house they lived in for years when I was growing up.  The house was swarming with gremlins (like from the movie Gremlins), and my grandmother and I were crouched together on the ceiling (yeah, upside down like a ninja.  Or Spider-Man.  Or a Ninja Spider-Man) to avoid them.

I don’t usually remember that many specifics from my dreams.  I did (and occasionally still do) have recurring dreams.  For most people, recurring dreams are like flying, or having to give a presentation in your underpants.  But mine was always running.  Bounding, really.  Taking giant, lopping strides, barely allowing gravity to have a say in things.  I’d run along highways and next to cars, keeping up easily and hardly even trying.  I guess it makes sense when you keep in mind I’m a big ol’ fat guy who does not move quickly (and didn’t even when I wasn’t quite so big or old).

In recent years, the dreams I can remember have taken on a more sinister tone.  The one I recall from a couple of nights ago is pretty typical: I was standing in the bathroom, staring into the mirror, and my two front teeth started to crumble fracture before my eyes.  Little pieces chipped and flaked away.  When I looked at my lower teeth, they were full of holes and missing chunks.  It was pretty distressing, I don’t mind telling you.

I wish my dreams were more pleasant.  It’s not a great way to wake up in the morning, feeling the need to poke around in your mouth to make sure your teeth haven’t rotted out of your head while you slept.

Of course, there are also the dreams like this:

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Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  I’m thankful for getting to do what I love, both in my day job and with Eddie Hazzard and Company.  Don’t forget to pre-order your copy of The Invisible Crown, which’ll be out just in time for Christmas (and you know you need a good read over the Christmas holiday; how else will you stand Uncle Albert’s rant about whatever it is he’s ranting about this year?)!