Thursday, November 26, 2009

Giving thanks . . .

I give thanks to my Mother for being strong yet remaining sweet through these difficult months. Ever the smiling one who believes absolutely in the goodness of others, I've learned kindness and patience through your example.

I give thanks to my Father. I shall carry your story forward and make sure the tales of South Eleventh Street, Newark are known far and wide. Someday I shall tell you how my own story turned out.

I give thanks to those whose names are etched in marble memorials, who sacrificed all for the sake of their families, neighbors and country.

I give thanks to my sisters, who at various stages in my life have been teachers and tormentors. ;-) That's what your big sisters are for. My love of fantasy and science fiction began with being read mythology as a small boy. Had I not been told of Perseus fighting the Medusa, Odysseus and the Cyclops I might never have found this road I now walk.

I give thanks to my nephews, who are the best audience a silly guy like me can have. Don't grow up too fast otherwise you will stop thinking I am cool. Remember... your uncle is a superhero who fights ninjas with a lightsaber.

I give thanks for dogs riding in cars with their heads out the window, catching the breeze. If ever there was a metaphor for happiness, that is it!

I give thanks to the guys who were not born as my brothers but have become my brothers in life. You looked out for me when I was at my lowest and helped me stand up straight again.

I give thanks to every teacher I ever had and teachers the world over. No child can grow and evolve without your guidance. Humanity is an engine of learning and we all have much more "homework" to do.

I give thanks Lt. Col. Wardle and SMSgt. Evans for giving me focus through high school and beyond. I am at my best when I remember the leadership skills you taught me.

I give thanks to George Taber and Don Wilson, who took a chance on guy who knew nothing about the news industry and gave me the chance to learn this craft.

I give thanks to Steve B. and Eric T. who created a playing field where imagination took shape (with creative use of plumbing supplies) beyond tabletop games and computer screens.

I give thanks to everyone whose ever drawn swords with some sad looking mime named Jaggereth Wren and waged war against the monsters of the abyss but especially my old crew, the Drehkindrah: "We kill our enemies, cut off their @#$! and put them in jars!"

I give thanks to my friends old and new (who have NO IDEA what the hell that last quote means). Do not let time and distance steal away the smiles we have shared.

I give thanks to J. R. R. Tolkien and George R. R. Martin. One day, gentlemen, my books will share shelf space with you.

I give thanks to Sean Bean and Peter Jackson for making me cry every time I watch Boromir make his stand at Amon Hen.

I give thanks to everyone I've ever loved and those who have loved me back. Caring for others is the greatest expression of who we are. I don't always get it right, made some big mistakes, but I endeavor to make you proud to have known me.

This holiday, may your table be plentiful with family and friends for it is the joy of togetherness that feeds our souls.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Sometimes you stumble into opportunity

A chance conversation about writing got my brain working the other day. I've been so focused on the labor of the craft lately I was ignoring the business of it.

At the last minute I came across the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association annual reception and signed up. I met a agents, editors and other writers at Planet Hollywood last night. Exchanged information and promised to send my work over. No guarantees but meeting in-person can improve your chances of at least getting a solid read by an agent or editor.

Time to get edits done on Riding Ten Thunders and wrap up Heritage Fields then do some serious pitching!

Friday, November 20, 2009

I like spooky looking things


On my way home from a tech demo at Hammerstein Ballroom , I caught this view of the Empire State Building.
My camera doesn't quite capture the absolute eerie effect of the skyscraper shining through the shroud of misty clouds... but it made me think of otherworldy fog and gargoyles swooping across the night sky.

Monday, November 16, 2009

The importance of knowing each other's stories

Rushia led an exciting and dynamic life, but it's a deeper loss that I don't know more of it. She was my great-aunt, sister to my father's mother. But my Dad had a bad habit of not sharing a lot of such details. So as a kid I simply called her "Aunt Rushia" having no clue exactly how this nice lady was my aunt.

Growing up, our extended family would gather at Rushia and her husband Levy's house for parties and BBQs. When you're a kid running around with your cousins, you don't pay too much attention to what the grownups are saying. You don't know how important it will be later to know the places they have walked, the times they have seen. But I do remember Rushia's sassy sense of humor, her sense of style and sharp words when crossed.

I've got some bits and pieces, things gleaned from the recording of father. I will ask my mother to share more. But it is deeply troubling to me that I did not start asking questions of the past until after Rushia was not able to share her own story.

In her time, she looked after my father and his siblings after their own mother passed. She made lifelong friends who she continued to pal around with until time itself made it too difficult for her.

Rushia's a major fixture of the family that grew up on Tyler Street in Newark. She saw their hard times and joys. The fact that she outlived three of those Tyler Street "kids" gives a hint of her own history.

I never captured Rushia's story, rather mad I took too long to think of it. These past years she wasn't able to engage in much conversation. You have to act when you have the opportunity, don't wait till later. Trouble is, the younger you are, the less likely you are to ask questions and listen.

Speaking to the elder generation can make people uncomfortable. We want to embrace our own youth so badly and talking with our forerunners can shakeup our sense of personal immortality.

So here is my request, my challenge to you all, especially those who have started families of your own: Keep all of your stories alive. Every skinned knee and every birthday candle. Keep a journal. Write a blog. Pour every recollection of these times you are living into the minds of those who shall follow you.

Turn even the small things you love, such as the perfection of peanut butter slathered on a slice of a Granny Smith apple paired with a glass of Riesling, into memories for the "youngins" running around now. Share some knee-slapping stories other people can tell about you.

We have the tools to communicate, share and understand each other better these days. But we still have to take time to tell our tales... and to listen.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The infamous "C" word

COMPROMISE (what did you think I was gonna say?)

A lot of people despise compromise. It can make your skin crawl if see compromise as surrender.

I was listening to a radio show on my drive home the other night and the topic was about people who refuse to compromise in relationships.

One of the callers said she was married with three kids with a husband who refuses to compromise and the regret in her voice made me sad. She sounded strong, yet very frustrated from dealing with it. She warned others to get out while they can.

Now there are many things one can rattle off that you should not compromise about: Never let anyone abuse you. Not ever. No hitting, no insults. None of it. That's a given.

However you both have to play by the same rules.

If you demand something, don't be surprised if you get treated the same way back.

Some folks are hard pressed to say they are sorry. A guy I used to work with several years ago had a girlfriend who said the following to him: "Once you realize I'm always right, everything will be fine." She wasn't kidding. They eventually parted ways.

I think people confuse this with being confident. You can debate, argue, etc. but if someone digs in and refuses to budge, you are no longer having a conversation.

Even if you become equally uncompromising, it will likely be met with a shrug and a perfunctory "Fine, whatever" in response.

I can list a few personal rules I am not willing to budge from: No cigarettes or illegal drugs of any kind, etc. But that's not the same as someone stomping their foot and saying "Do what I say, or else!" I could list a number of ultimatums I have stared down over the years and they always came with a heavy amount of hypocrisy.

Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away