Lost Days, Lost Time; Or, You Can’t Fill a Black Hole

I have struggled with depression my whole life. During the past 10 years it has improved immensely, especially the past few. I now consider myself a happy person, a content person. The black days which used to be the norm are now rare.

But they’re not gone.

… more … “Lost Days, Lost Time; Or, You Can’t Fill a Black Hole”

The Real Reason I Do This

Here are a few things I believe about being an author in 2013:

  • It’s a great time to be an artist
  • It’s a tough time to sell art
  • Reading is a fundamental human activity; even reading for pleasure
  • Yes, we need more books
  • And more authors
  • And more music and art of all kinds
  • Gatekeepers serve no purpose in the world of art
  • Selling art is still a business
  • We have more tools than we can use, for writing, marketing, reading, sharing
  • Literature is not an endangered species
  • Nor are readers
  • Or writers
  • Or print
  • Money comes second, or third; writing comes first
  • Some people don’t believe that, but I don’t think it’s just my opinion, I think it’s a fact
  • Nobody writes without fear
  • Emotional fears do far more damage than good
  • I hold back far more than you think I do
  • Helping authors is more important to me than money
  • I’d still love to have plenty of money and so would you

That’s the short version of the list.

And none of that is why I do what I do.

… more … “The Real Reason I Do This”

Nobody Sees Until You Say They Do

[image: photo http://www.sxc.hu/photo/1077691 by Zsuzsanna Kilian http://www.sxc.hu/profile/nkzs” width=”200″ height=”200″ class=”alignright size-full wp-image-2945]You do know that you’re the boss, right?

They’re your words.

Nobody gets to see them until you say they do.

The next eyes to see your words will be the eyes watching as you write.

Sure, it’s still scary like Hitchcock.

But it’s not scary like a loony wielding a framing hammer, like you think it is.

Back on the Rails

[image: image http://www.sxc.hu/photo/796527 by Dominic Morel http://www.sxc.hu/profile/cx_ed” width=”173″ height=”200″ class=”alignright size-full wp-image-2823]The double-fudge-loaded cheesecake derails your healthy eating habits.

Disturbed sleep derails your writing habit.

Surprises in your schedule derail family time.

Unexpected behavior from others derails your best intentions to be the best possible version of yourself.

Time goes into stealth mode and derails your blogging routine.

Some of those seem trivial. Others are major events. Each of us would rate each of them a little differently.

… more … “Back on the Rails”

Self-Publishing 101: Q & A with a Ship’s Master

Beginners ask about things some of us take for granted. It’s useful to review the questions and answers to be sure we haven’t missed something which seems self-evident to others.

[image: Sergiy Kalyuzhny]I had a long online chat with Sergiy Kalyuzhny, Master at Marlow Navigation, Ukraine. He’s writing a non-fiction account of an event we haven’t fully discussed yet (though I sure hope Sergiy lets me help with the book so I can read about it.)

Since I’m posting late today, as penance, I’ll share the whole thing instead of splitting it into a half-dozen posts.

… more … “Self-Publishing 101: Q & A with a Ship’s Master”

beautiful carelessly sultry: the song with no nouns

My buddy Charlie Cheney stuffs his songs full of nouns. Every time I’d send him a set of lyrics and say hey, wanna put this to music? he’d respond “Where are all the nouns?” Yes, I tend to write ethereal touchy feely stuff. (You should note that Charlie has shared the stage with Jackson Browne and I have not. I know which of us is the better songwriter. Still, I soldier on.)

Charlie and some folks once put together a song made entirely of nouns. It was fun, but it didn’t make as much sense as Charlie’s Palmer Johnson Yacht.

I responded with this song: beautiful carelessly sultry.

It has no nouns. Zero. (You’re writers. You know what that means.)

… more … “beautiful carelessly sultry: the song with no nouns”

How Do I Know if I’m a Real Writer or Not?

[image: ?]In another of my newsletter signup welcome email conversations, Michael asked,

As an old guy, my only real question about publishing in general is: am I considered to be a writer, for real, if I’m not published by a traditional publisher?

By you, or by traditional publishers, or by your readers, or by your family, or by other self-published authors?

You might guess that some folks will look down on you, and some won’t.

I think the answer that matters is what it feels like to you.

I’ve self-published 10 books. Anyone who thinks I’m not an author, a real writer, can take a flying leap. I know what I am.

You probably do, too.

You don’t need anyone’s permission to be who you are and do what you do.

The Vicarious Adventure of Words on Maps

[image: photo http://www.sxc.hu/photo/119902 by michu webski http://www.sxc.hu/profile/weblife]I love maps. I love the visual representation of a reality that allows us to go somewhere and look at things we might not otherwise be able to touch and see and smell.

Maps can show us where Marco Polo went. They can show us how to get to San Francisco or Montreal or some other beautiful place. In his book River-Horse William Least Heat Moon included maps of his voyage across the United States by boat. Virtually all my adventure travel books, The Ra Expeditions, Kon Tiki, The Brendan Voyage, Enchanted Vagabonds: they all include maps.

Maps are visual and tactile. I like maps printed on nice paper, whether it’s in a book or hung on a wall.

But maps without words are less than half of what they should be.

Location names, topographical features, labels, directions, all give meaning to what would otherwise be amorphous colored blobs.

Even better are maps which have personal notes on them. When a previous adventurer notes here’s where that exciting event happened, this is a place to avoid, you have to see this, a map becomes more than a representation of geographical features, of direction and distance.

It becomes an adventure in itself.