Preservation

I give way too much thought to my legacy for somebody that has barely cracked a dozen published works. Thing is, I can’t help it. I have binder upon binder of notes. I have this addiction to paper and all sorts of sketching and annotation and random outlining of ideas. It is admittedly less organized than I would want it to be, but in there is the culmination of years and years of world building and character notes and map sketches.

Who cares?

A fair question. First and foremost the person stuck cleaning things out I suppose. This is a difficult and sometimes tragic situation.

A long time ago I was asked for my opinion on some works left behind by a young creator. This young person had been killed in an accident and the grieving parents, in their quest for answers as to why this young person was gone far too soon, were lashing out at any and all entities involved in the accident. I was shown a sample of the young creator’s works and asked if I thought this was the seeds of a potentially legendary career cut short too soon.

It’s heartbreaking to see this kind of thing. One of the biggest factors in this particular case was the parents clearly having no interest or understanding in the work presented. Was this a factor in the so deemed ‘accident’? Hard to say. I had very limited access to information about the case (for that is exactly what it became when the parents brought lawsuits and criminal accusations). The scattered papers were gathered up and some notes attempting to bring order or sense were clipped to the front of the stack.

At the time I said I couldn’t see the level of potential claimed by the parents. The sketches were indifferent in skill, copying media available at the time. Fan fiction and use of copyrighted works without permission. I think about this from time to time. Would I see it differently now?

So, I have these thoughts. I have stacks of binders and reams of sketches, some in books and some floating freely across reference books or folded into game manuals. Will somebody look at those and claim there is more there than there is? I have my doubts, but I think about it anyway.

Then I wonder ~ what sort of gap in history will there be when these millions upon millions of words just go away? Yes, I have this addiction to paper, but how many notes, feelings, personal letters and all the other ephemera of an author’s life will be lost when (notably not IF) all the electronic records fail and the internet is gone? How will a researcher dig into the various aspects of what brought a story to life when all that life was held together with circuits and lights?

This is a thought I’ve had before, and one that will likely crop up again. The topic is worth the thought. How many thousands of my words would disappear if my website went away? Would anyone other them me care? What sort of personal correspondence would come up when somebody wondered if I bounced ideas off other authors? Will there be anything to find?

I think this article (link) is both hopeful and naïve at the same time. Not everyone has that addiction to paper. It’s worth reading and definitely worth considering.

Endurance

Is endurance enough?

No, clearly it is not. There are many other factors involved in creating something that others can enjoy. It does bruise my spirit to see others I know and respect, people I have shared creativity with, lose the thread and stop.

This has happened recently to a friend. He posted a lengthy set of words describing how he was leaving the world of the ‘author’ effective immediately and switching back to creating things in a style and manner much more suited to his preferences. He has multiple books published. He’s creative and has a vision for his work. His words have inspired me before… and he’s quit.

I think that’s a harsh word and sounds sharper than I mean it to. He’s changed back to creating in other media, not listing piles and piles of words and mashing them onto pages for others. He’s won awards in this other format, and bluntly I agree with the people who gave the awards. Fantastic work, but watching the walking away of a creative person stings a little.

Part of this might be me seeing parallels. Part of it might be that his word production out paces mine by an order of magnitude (or more). I simply don’t produce words at the pace he does, even when he believes they’re not landing. Part might be the reality that success at any level beyond your local circle of friends is astonishingly rare.

This is not the only bit I’ve noticed, but it worries me to approach the rest of it.

I’ve never been a person to indulge in ‘crisis’ activities. “Mid-life” implies an end point is known. There are so many things to do in this world, there are so many places to see and even people to meet that giving in and wallowing in bad feelings seems like time that could be better spent trying to do all those things. And yet.

Maybe it’s as simple as being a sign of age.

I was at a second hand book store and found a very nice looking collection of old game books. Being a lover of Dungeons and Dragons, it was my first instinct to pick them up and inspect them despite owning all these works twice over already. Clearly my first mistake. When I picked one up and opened the cover it had the name of a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time written inside. Admittedly, we’d lost touch over the past couple of years, but we gamed together. His smile and his characters and his enthusiasm were always a bright – sometimes to the point of being insufferable – spot in the game. Why would he, being of similar age and mindset give up these most prized of possessions from the past? I went in search of his contact information… only to find out that he had died and nobody had said anything to me about it.

I’m not going to claim some wrong doing or severed kinship here. This is not some odd missed connection internet story. It was just sad. I was sad that I hadn’t known. The certainty of never having those conversations again was a blow. I closed the cover and placed the book back on the shelf. I haven’t been back to that shop since then. I don’t want to dig into that chapter again.

More and more of my peers quit, fade away from the community we’ve had over the years or die. It is becoming more of a struggle, but one that I intend to continue. There is still so much to do and see and experience that I must go forward. I must do all the things. New goals will be set. New paths made to move ahead.

So I endure.

The Speed of a Dream

The most difficult thing to me is the speed that the stories cascade across the screen in my mind in juxtaposition to the glacial pace they can be placed on the page by way of my fingers. What is the speed of a dream?

I’ve tried the voice to text tools and they’re far better these days than they were before, but there’s something to me about sitting in front of the blank page and tapping away at a set of keys. It feels right. The tactile nature of transferring a story from one medium to another. It can be soothing, it can be evocative, it can be infuriating. It happens at a faster pace from time to time. Sometimes I catch inspiration and the words just flow. The problem of course is that inspiration is fleeting and the stories I have to tell want… need, to be much longer than a few hundred words spilled onto a page in a moment when the images are willing to flow.

If the dream like state could be maintained then the words and the works would be created so much more quickly. There are those who believe the artist must, based on the maintenance of that dream like state, take measures to ensure the dreams don’t leave. It’s a fallacy, and worse, detrimental to the truth of the story one has to tell. IF one is the creator of the story than it should be a true creation, not one based in and biased by whatever concoction or substance the author consumed in desperation to grasp the dream.

Perhaps that’s the key. It’s not a dream, or if it is, it’s a dream that belongs to others. The creator is simply the channel and the words and the works are designed to be fleeting. The creations dash forward and away, in search of the place where they may take up space for all the others meant to experience them.

It’s whimsical to sit and ponder these things and more so to believe I have any insight into these things. I am peeking through the keyhole, glancing into the partially opened door in hopes that the light spilling out will work toward a greater success for those passing by in the darkness. Folly on a good day.

Working toward becoming the conduit for these misty visions and half formed myths isn’t easy. The words rarely match the clouded view, out of focus but evoking such strong emotions. How do you match the speed of a dream?

Someday. Eventually.

Poe and Drinks

This past weekend I had the opportunity to go in person to hear theatrical performances of four of Edgar Allen Poe’s stories. The “Poe Speakeasy” paired custom drinks with performances of Tell-tale Heart, The Raven, The Masque of Red Death and The Black Cat.

The custom drinks were paired with their individual stories. The actors gave outstanding performances while the audience got to sit and sip these fun alcoholic concoctions.

The time we selected for our show was the middle of the day. It was a bright, sunny afternoon. The weather was quite at odds with the mood the cast was trying to set. The drinks, for practical reasons no doubt, were in fancy plastic cups… but plastic non-the less. Little things, but really nothing to detract from what was a wonderful show.

For the record – it was just that. It was a show. Even one of the performers noted that there were aspects that might upset the purists. The interpretations were just fine from my point of view. I would suggest that if the tour lands in your area that you go and check it out! A fun time for a couple of hours – and definitely do it later in the day. The darkness will definitely add to the mood!

Speakeasy

30 YEARS

The real world will be intruding on the blog here for a moment.

Today, February 4th, 2025 I will celebrate 30 years together with my wife. The ‘pearl’ anniversary will probably slide past without much fanfare, but it’s a pretty big deal to me.

All the adventures, all the fun, all the amazing times and the brutally difficult times. All the wonder, all the sadness and everything in between… I would not trade any of it. This has been the most difficult, wonderful, challenging, amazing journey. If I was given the opportunity to back and change the past, I wouldn’t. I’d do it all again.

I love this ride we’re on and I hope for 30 more years of this crazy ride.

Happy anniversary my dear!

Worthy Advertising

I was listening to an opinion piece the other day that said Hollywood doesn’t know how to deal with cutting through the noise to get the attention of their audience. To a small degree, I can agree with that. People, generally, stay away from the big theater experience except for a handful of really big productions. Theater attendance struggles, and they’ve lost the purity of the pre-movie trailer.

I used to LOVE to watch trailers. I was always excited to see what was coming to the big screen.

Then, somehow, the story tellers of the movie world forgot how to make people excited about a story without giving everything away. Trailers became events and had ‘previews’ and then the internet had leaks and versions…

It has only become worse. Now, AI generated, fan based fakes are very difficult to spot. There’s no clear and easy way to track down what’s coming up. I might have missed it altogether if not for a site I track with a newsfeed aggregator hadn’t pointed it out. The original article caught my eye because there’s a movie listed that I *really* would like to see. Check out the article here.

Individual streaming services have started to find the key I think. The “trailer” was not for an individual film, as in the past but instead for a number of movies and shows that are slated to be released this year. I think this sort of trailer, with a host of individual clues will be the way to go in the future. I will probably watch this one again, just to try to pick up on the visual cues I missed the first time through. Then I’ll be sure to track down those shows or movies on their channel. I am also pumped to hear that “Old Guard 2” is on the list… now I just have to see what part of this trailer shows that to me.

Cold Something

Cold Water by Dave Hutchinson

My rating: 2 of 5 stars


I picked this book up because it was a book club selection (science fiction). It’s a slog. I read the whole thing… but honestly can’t tell you with certainty why some people are calling it science fiction. Beyond one quasi-science fictionesque bit, this could be a current day spy novel. Sure there are ‘alternate’ world aspects here, but there isn’t enough difference to make me believe any of it. The vast majority of the references and cultural world building stuff could just as easily be today.

Notably I didn’t call it a ‘spy thriller’. I didn’t find it particularly ‘thrilling’ either. I just kept rolling to confirm what I thought about the plot. I was essentially correct, but the ending (that slammed down very quickly) didn’t seem to fit the rest of the book. The reason behind the mystery wasn’t enough to wow me… or impress me at all really.

I couldn’t really tell you the difference between the main character from Texas and the police officer from… Poland? Estonia? Dunno and don’t really care. The young woman hacker that we got almost no information about was just as interesting (cloth computer?) None of them moved me.

I’ve seen that this is being developed as a television series. I can’t imagine that working, but I’ll be interested to see how they handle the visual aspects of the lone ‘science fiction’ piece of it. I don’t suspect it’s a thing I’ll watch more than one episode of.



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