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 |   The catch-all for items related to and/or inspired by the music that shaped me. |
Music has played a role in nearly every situation of my life. This is where I'll be collecting items inspired by those moments- poems, lyrics, blog entries- the soundtrack of me.  I may also contribute blog-style entries here from time to time:
And this month, I've decided to take part in... ![Merit Badge in Quill Award
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Congratulations on winning the 2017 Quill Award for Best Music for [Link To Item #2072393] . *^*Delight*^* See [Link To Item #quills] for more information.](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Award-1375927_6.gif)    Best Blog |
  "How did you start writing? Did someone urge you to write, or did it come naturally?"Hey! What's good, playas?? Just poppin' in to say hi and quickly answer a few prompts before dinnertime in this here place. And I got a couple prompts I love (and would love to fuck with), so here we are. I think about this randomly; usually at the most peculiar times. When I think about how I really started, my head immediately pushes me back a few years so I can fully encompass the people who gave me time to be an audience and offer their knowledge. Then I get a little sad because they're dead now, and I can't share with them what I've been able to accomplish since. So technically, my first response would be that on a hot summer night in '93 (right after graduating high school and moving in with my dad and stepmom), I took a notebook my sis was no longer using and sat on the porch, hashing out things and thoughts and feelings I was unable to get across in speaking. The page became my audience; not people (though sis would often read the things I felt most proud of, and she was dope about it). The more I did it, the stronger I felt. I was becoming my own therapist in a way, learning how to understand myself by rereading my thoughts. And it worked for awhile, until it got down to me needing an actual therapist (more on that later though). And it's fun to think that when I was 18, writing became my prevailing hobby of choice...but without the encouragement of my 9th and 10th grade English teachers, I wouldn't have had that seed planted and stuck and become organized enough to give a fuck about what I was doing. My 9th grade teacher, Mrs. Lindsey, in particular, was so friggin' cool. I could show her things and she could give me tips and we could pick each others' brains. When she taught a poetry unit, I was the only one excited for it. Because of her I actually made an effort after I graduated to come back and speak to one of her classes about poetry. It was really cool and really surreal. It's easy to say it comes naturally, because you wouldn't do it if you didn't want to. But without someone believing in you and offering support, what else is there to keep you going? All you're doing (without that) is basically journaling to yourself in whatever type of medium you prefer. And that's great if that suits you, but for many of us we want more...feedback, reviews, or even just someone who says "I get you here". Natural wants and desires coexisting with your talent and someone(s) diggin' it are the backbone of most of our time spent writing, I imagine. And maybe I'm wrong, and maybe that's not how you feel, and that's ok...there are- and I'mma say it loud for the folks in the back- NO SET RULES FOR WRITING WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT, WHEN YOU WANT. Actually had this discussion with my psychiatrist today; she thinks all the great writers have a set time each day and they need to write x-amount of words or pages, or they won't be successful. Fuck that. I don't do that. Not saying you shouldn't if that works for you, but that's not how I operate. If you held a gun to my head and told me to write a poem, I'd shit myself and beg you to shoot me. On the flipside of that coin, I'm always trying to pay attention to things that might be inspiring, cuz you can find it in the weirdest places...and even if it only sparks a line or a hook, it goes into a notebook that I can work off of later (like, ya know, when the mood strikes). So, piss on your writer's block and don't hold yourself to unrealistic expectations. You'll just disappoint yourself and that's not good at all for your work. Didn't mean to go on a rant about it, but, well, here we are. As a side note, thanks again to Emily  for all the kickass work she's done this month and basically since she's been back? Do y'all love her like I've been hearing good things about her? Show her some love!!  "If you could only use music to describe yourself to someone, what song would it be and why? If you can, add the YouTube link so we can hear it too." Y'all know this is a loaded question, right? Man, I applaud you good, kind souls who can distill your lives down to one fucking song. That's great! There should be a trophy for that, or an achievement that unlocks a $25 Applebees gift card for you, or some shit. I don't have time to sort through nearly 20k songs in my library and say "Yes! This is me!!". I hope you all knew this going in, and didn't try too hard to pigeonhole yourselves into something that maybe won't reflect you on the odd chance your life takes a misdirection. And as much as I hate to say it, when I come across this question there is always one song that comes to mind. I was the smart kid who was expected to be a great adult doing many great adult things. Without going into detail, life did not quite go that way for a long time. Being labeled as "smart" when you're young doesn't necessarily mean you pick up on all the skills you need to be a competent grown-up. No need for me to shame anyone now about it, because what they didn't do can't be undone and there are too many people I could point fingers at that I could put a glove on all my fingers and still need more fingers for all the gloves I'd need. Y'all can figure it as "a blessing and a curse"; I've come to know it as a deathtrap. My first trip to the psych ward coincided with this song and my fixation on this album as a whole...it was so good and fresh and new and different than anything I'd heard. It struck a solid chord with me. And all I could think was "Smart Went Crazy" while I was staring at platinum white walls while trying to get out and resume the same life that got me there in the first place. I was the smart kid who lost his fucking mind...no boundaries, no self-respect or self-control, nothing. Just a job I hated and a boss that assumed I was basically her and a girlfriend who couldn't divorce her husband but loved me and loved fighting with me more. It's hard being stuck as the successful failure. Anyway, that all landed me in the hospital because I was "not myself". In short, I wanted out...I wanted to die and just leave everything behind and be forgotten about. But everyone else I was connected with felt differently, and so I had to push on and live the same life...now with the designation of "he lost his mind". Powerful words coming from the inside of what they used to call an asylum. I'm not gonna go into any bit more detail because I'll be dealing with it next month in an online writing class I'm taking (more on that in a bit).  I'm not gonna say much more about this song that I haven't said already now or in previous entries when I've used it. If I'm not mistaken, it's on the silent list in my head of songs I've retired from using in blog entries...but I guess since I don't blog that much anymore, it's ok to pull it out once in awhile. I guess all I can say is it kept me sane when I was insane. It soundtracked my narrative. Felt good to come home and pump it through my speakers, thinking maybe I wasn't so fucked up anymore. "Smart Went Crazy"  -Atmosphere"'You're headed for self destruction'; been there, did that. Kicked back with the wrong angel to fuck with."  Yo, where do they give you trophy for not being a fucked-up fuckup anymore? I've moved a couple times. I traveled a bit since I became like a published author and shit. People buy my t-shirts and other merch. Am I like a legit adult again? I've got an ID. Poetry and Blogging Quills, along with $2+ gets me a cup of coffee around here. Where's my boo-hoo participation trophy??    HEY!! The "30-Day Bloggers Group" is still looking for donations for the massive February fundraiser, my friends!  Also yo...my publisher is looking for people to take a class on publishing memoirs. If you're interested, get at me. It's a 4-week online class for $200. I'll be there, providing levity and purging my soul. Not that a memoir is on my list of Things To Do, but hey if the noggin nudges, I move.I thought I had more to add, but I got sidetracked by Twitter again and Facebook minutiae and that's fine and all but I really need to decide now if I wanna eat, poop, or nap...these are the things I worry about while you're out in the world being a well-adjusted individual, ya prickfaces. Peace, I don't know where I'm goin' but I'll end up in your arms, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! "We Will Still Need A Song" -Hawksley Workman"The poets let a generation down! And modern music could be a healing sound... it's the only way." |
 Yes yes y'all!! I'm reappearing from my self-induced semi-popularity outside of WDC to address a prompt that has hit me deep down...one that has provided me some instant form of response. I'm down with Lyn's a sly fox  and I have a boatload of love and respect for her, so I must address this one on a personal level. Now, remember, this is just my experience...and I hate that this is gonna sound like another ad for all the shit I'm into and have done and am still promoting, but y'all are writers and this is the writing life for people who have found their way into the biz. In this month's edition of Writer's Digest Diana Pho says, "Writing is hard, but writing own voices is harder. Despite recent efforts statistics show that own voice stories are being left behind in the industry. On top of industrialized challenges minority writers deal with added pressure that their individual story comes to represent of the whole of their community." Do you agree with her assessment? Does the fact the majority of the publishing industry are white, straight, able bodied, and affluent affect the decision making when it comes to publication?"No" -Chuck D"No lightweight bouts up in the air, shoot outs and no sellouts! No Negroes with egos, no mo' shows callin' women bitches and hoes. No thoughtless flows, no woes. No singin' voices, no Rolls Royces, no wack choices." Sorry/Not Sorry...it's the first song that came to mind. Full disclosure: I'm a straight white male. I wouldn't say I work in publishing, but I do tend to promote a lot on a basic level. And yeah, I did some stuff to help get Eliezer Tristan Publishing off the ground last summer (but I don't like to talk about it, cuz that makes me uneasy...not in a bad way though). Basically, my experience is in Indie Publishing, and I wouldn't have it any other way because breaking into the bigs, or even the mid-majors, is hard. And I've always been an indie kinda guy...I make the rules, I dance to my own beat, and I'll never conform.ETP is run and staffed by women. Straight up. Their main focus is on Mental Health and stories of resilience. Essays, bios, poems...that's the gig. That's the input/output. Erasing the stigma around Mental Illnesses, which has no boundaries and knows no color, size, personality, achievements, goals, race, creed, financial status, community involvement, and/or cultural fluency. Sorry to go so longform on you there. But it's true. And don't get me started on the statistics that prove 1 out of 4 of us are inflicted in some way with things like depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, and other illnesses.  Me as the straight single white guy, an LGBTQ woman, a Muslim, a married witchy white lady, a Jew, and a zealot walk into a bookstore... And what do many of us who are high-functioning despite our diagnoses do? We write. Writing was my way out of depression when I first joined WDC, and was also my savior during some of my worst moments. But I'm getting off-point here. Sure, many major publishing houses are bound by their own self-imposed standards of race- and gender-inequality. I cannot dispute that. Like any other predominately-male industry, I suppose...CEOs, CFOs, the dude who runs the pizza place by your house, etc. But fuck that...women are making noise and breaking barriers. Probably the biggest influence on me in the last year or so as far as writing my own poetry goes has been several of the Button Poetry authors. Danez Smith (who is black), Andrea Gibson (an LGBTQ woman), Nicole Lyons, Rudy Francisco (black/Hispanic)...don't tell me voices are being marginalized. Ok, systematically, yes...by major publishing houses, sure. They rely on the big bullshit names to sell millions of books, and that's cute. Old white dudes writing basic mysteries and crime novels, and withering women writing romance novels for the same withering crowd. Nerds and geeks plotting new Sci-Fi and Fantasy landscapes to be explored. Fuck that. Damn the man!! What I'm sayin' is...seek out what you like, and support the indie authors who make it happen for you. They're out there. They're not making thousands a month off their name...they're bustin' their asses promoting themselves. I've had a book out for six months now through ETP and I'm still more famous on WDC than I am in both Cortland and my hometown, even though I've sold a bunch of books. These are the people you need to be reading- the ones you do the work in researching for- and not what some publication (which is an offshoot of a big magazine corporation) says is "happening now" or recommends for you. Do the work; get the real rewards.   I know not many of y'all will remember my friend Julie D - PUBLISHED!  , but her and I grew up in the old blogging community together way back before there were blogging groups and extensive forums and contests dedicated to the craft. Anyway, her book On Purpose just came out from ETP and even though she's not around here very often anymore we still keep in touch and I'm super proud of her for reaching out and getting this work out to the public. I'm even more honored that she included this in her "Acknowledgements" section  and I'm super stoked to read it.  Ok ladies and gentlemen, this was my January return to blogging and no, it isn't gonna become a habit as far as I can tell going into the rest of the month, but who knows? All I know is I need to get some food in me and then take a nap. Support your local authors. Go to Open Mic Nights. Spread the word like you would a common cold. That's the bulk of all we've got, most of the time...you. Thanks. Peace, no east coast/west coast beefs, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
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Still remember your address on Penora.
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But, with extreme shit hitting me I bury under ground and neither internet nor real life can find me then.
