Tag Archives: Storyteller

The Votes Are In

I have enjoyed the responses to my announcement of completing FRAGILE GODS. Thank you all. As ever, your encouragement and support means the world to me.

I mentioned a couple of other projects as candidates for my next undertaking, and the support for ACCELERATING THE PROGRESS OF MANKIND BY USING YOUR TURN SIGNAL has been overwhelming. I’m very excited about this project myself, and your votes have only fueled the fire.

So with all the vigor of a rabid squirrel, I will now tackle the task of reforming the world in ways that will improve life for everyone. This project is proof that I won’t merely be content to be published; no, my ambition is such that I must change the world. (If changing the world comes with a paycheck, so much the better.)

It is refreshing to write nonfiction. It feels somehow cleaner. Don’t get me wrong; I think of myself as a storyteller. But nonfiction, particularly motivational nonfiction, is like telling you a story that might become true, just for the telling of it.

Personally, I can’t think of anything more exciting.

Happy Blue Year

A Blue MoonWelcome 2010.

To me, a new year is intimidating in much the same way a blank sheet of paper (physical or word processed). My imagination offers me limitless potential, which has a way of freezing me in place. There are too many possibilities, and I don’t dare sully the new page or year with throwaway text. Whatever I write next sets the tone for every page that follows, right?

There’s just too much pressure to get it right.

What shall I cover?

The most dangerous drive, round trip, of my entire life?

Finally seeing my family again after a year and a half?

North Carolina’s new ban on smoking in restaurants and bars?

My co-worker who was arrested after living for years under a secret identity?

New Year’s [yawn] resolutions?

My vote is:

None of the above. As a storyteller, I have an obligation to share with you each of those tales. But I have a bigger obligation to get them right, and there just isn’t time right now.

Mentioning the constraint of time remains me that a New Year is less like a blank page than you might think. It is already filled with commitments and obligations; we don’t return to work to scrap last year’s projects and start with new ones. Our financial situation is the same on 1/1 as it was on 12/31. There’s no mystical erasure at work when the clock strikes midnight.

Just an opportunity to reflect how we might do better going forward. Last year, for example, I started this website. It didn’t magically infuse my writing career, but it has helped mold me as a writer.

So let me contend myself with wishing you well, and hoping you had as much fun over the holidays as I did, sans road hazards and travel aggravations.I urge you not to make undeliverable promises to yourselves or others. I think it’s more useful just to consider how we might improve in general, and to make progress on some of the goals we already had.

A New Year, much like a blue moon (which occurred this New Year’s Eve), is a mundane rarity. Make use of it without letting it hold you in awe.

But make it a good one.

I can see it, but I can’t touch it.

I wasn’t simply trying to wallow in self-pity and defeat. (Though that’s fun, too.)

I’m genuinely frustrated. Because I can write.

Or to be more precise, I can articulate. Whether speaking or writing, even arbitrating between two opposed parties, I can clarify what is meant, distinguish the particulars of intricate concepts, et cetera.

How does that skill translate into becoming, through and through, a storyteller? How does one go from brickmason to architect?

Also, I’m a critic foremost. When my family went to see a movie, the first thing we’d do afterwards is pick it apart on the car ride home; love it or hate it. I was telling my buddy at work all the flaws in a particular arc of Battlestar Galactica, and he said, “Wow, I’m sorry you didn’t like it.”

Didn’t like it? Are you crazy? I loved it. But it still has gaping plot holes, continuity errors, and worse. So does Star Wars, and LOTR, and the Matrix.

But I cannot permit those imperfections to exist in my work. They must be purged with divine fire from on high.

I can identify even more subtle problems in my own work, like those mentioned in the last post. I really think Perfect Justice doesn’t work that well as a story because it’s very cold and dark without any warmth. How do I get the warmth and keep the story? I don’t know.

Woman’s Best Friend is a nice little campfire ghost story. But it has no depth. You’ll never describe it as a story that really made you think about the larger universe, examine your own life and goals. It doesn’t have that.

Fragile Gods is the worst for me right now. I can see the whole story unfolding in my head; epic battles, broken hearts, unexpected victories, the whole deal.

I can see it, but I can’t touch it. It’s ethereal, or maybe it’s just behind glass.

How do I shatter the glass?