I Should Be Writing

About a year ago I discovered podcasts via iTunes. I was searching for audio books and noticed something interesting that was available via podcast. So after checking out the vast array of podcasts available, not solely on iTunes but across the expanse of the web, the hook became firmly affixed in my mouth.

And I've never looked back. I load them to my trusty iPod and zoom along my commute brandishing zeal and confidence. I'll never be bored with my iPod locked and loaded with podcasts! Occasionally I defer to music if there's a mood thing happening but gimme podcasts any day.

One of my fav's is called I Should Be Writing hosted by Mur Lafferty. You can find her podcast on iTunes or on the web at http://isbw.murlafferty.com/. What's special about this cast is the host. Mur is a professional writer who lays out all her struggles, wins, faults and advice. It's all invaluable, really because it's 100% genuine. Recently Mur participated in a round table discussion with other fiction writer's and her self-deprecating humor energized the cast, both pod and panel.

I can relate to her struggle with discipline. There are so many shiny things out there that interfere with getting the work done. In the end, no matter where her mood might drag her off to, she returns to her craft with conviction. All our lives revolve around the balance of responsibility and entertainment. What we have to do meets what we want to do. What we want to do is just so awesome, why does that have to do stuff have to suck so much?

As a writer discipline is central to success. Whether you write a little every day or do it in massive bursts, the words have to land on the page. And if you exercise, spend time with those you care about or work on a project around the house - the same idea applies. Sitting on the porch with a cigar and a little bourbon always sounds better than layering up attacking my poison ivy-infested bank on the edge of the lawn. But I can't smoke away that mess. Well I guess I could set it on fire but I think you need a permit or a Smokey the Bear Junior Fire Explorer Badge to do that.

Anyway, check out Mur whether you write, want to write, fear to write or just love great podcast content. She's the real deal! Be back with a short story this weekend for you all!

Not Enough Time

INXS  wrote a song called Not Enough Time that summed up my life the last few weeks. Hopefully life will revert back to the song Too Much Time On My Hands by Styx (I think it's theirs).

Tonight Bill Engvall at the Warner. Can't wait to relax and laugh a little. That'll be preceded by lunch at Infinity Hall in Norfolk. Never been there before. Looking forward to checking it out and hanging with Mike and Mary!

I'll be decked out in my Torrington Football Letterman's club gear tonight at the Warner. We need to pimp the club to raise funds for the team. Our 2nd Annual Golf Tournament will be held on Friday June 24th at Western Hills Golf Course in Waterbury. We need golfers and corporate sponsors. If your company would like to sponsor a hole or tee box (advertising opportunity) let me know. We can get your company name on the golf course and on the TFLC website with a link to your homepage.

Outta time for this morning. Have a great Sunday, all!

Foolin Around

Hi there. My name is Jake. I'm writing on my Dad's blog today because he is busy looking at houses on realtor.com. I guess we're moving or something. Anyways, I thought I'd kill some time since Casey is out shopping with Mommy and I'm between snacks. I went to Taekwondo this morning. I had a hard time paying attention. It was more fun to joke around with Nicholas than practice all those moves. The fun didn't last long. I saw my Dad shooting daggers at me from the seating area. I decided to start paying attention so I could get a gumball after class.

After class we went straight home and I didn't get the gumball. Bummer. I did eat some of Mommy's lasagna. I never had that before. It looked like a pie. A big meat pie! It was really yummy. After that we just hung out for a while. OK. My Dad is coming down the stairs. Signing off for now. I think I'll drink some water, put on some Drowning Pool and dance around the kitchen. "Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor!"

Limitations

I am no different than you. I have all the same faults and frailties built into my carapace as any other human. What's different in all of us is the central processor. Our motherboards may look alike but that processor can evolve or devolve rapidly.

Experiencing an uptick in the stress-o-meter raised some dormant awareness neurons in my head. The busy-ness of business never goes away but over the last 90 days it hasn't ebbed much. Toss in whatever's erupting at home and you have the formula for overload. This constant stream of tension and deliverables can force a response in one of two ways: The first is to stop fighting the current and get washed down stream. The other is to swim your ass off. Make it to the next rock. Fight to the next tree branch. Hold on, catch your breath and then plunge ahead.

Getting washed downriver can appear as the only choice at first. It requires far less effort and can ease the stress and tension. When you realize what's happened it can be too late to recover. You're bobbing along in the center of the fast moving river when you hear a rhythmic noise growing in volume. The crashing and roaring of the waterfall announces proudly that you it's next victim. You try to start swimming. The effort is in vain. Had you resisted the current when given the choice, the waterfall would only exist as a warning of what happens to those who cease working, cease caring.

Now the pounding of water plummeting and being broken apart on the rocks below expands to a thrumming crescendo. You swim with all your effort as you near the edge. The currents start to swirl and you find yourself swimming toward the edge!. Panic seizes your mind ordering your arms and legs to stop. Lips pulled back in a rictus, teeth trembling, a wail of terror peals from your throat. Over the edge you tumble. Legs and feet rotate up as your head and shoulders roll under. Losing all sense of equilibrium you fall to the patient rocks. The hungry, accepting rocks. A wet paper bag full of overripe tomatoes hitting the pavement kind of sound is hardly noticed beneath the ceaseless power of the waterfall. 

In seconds the rock is washed clean. No evidence of the collision exists for the curious to discover. Above, another scream rips through the moist air. The rocks spread their slow, ageless smile.

blog-jam

There's a backlog of blog topics in my capacity-limited brain these days. I find myself ranking life priorities daily and writing keeps getting shoved deeper down the list. The saying that resembles something like "we do what we want to do, not what we must do" certainly hasn't been accurate for me. While I run doing what I must, things I enjoy doing sit idly on the sidelines collecting dust and cobwebs. Alas, lives of the busy, eh?

At least I have a built in excuse: moving. Yes. We're definitely moving and there's been a whirlwind of activity associated with the ignition of the project. It's job related so the people who have the duty of first contact descended like locusts on a ripe field of grain. The toughest part? Getting the house ready for Realtors & inspectors. Not that there's anything to hide, but I always feel like somethings not shiny and clean enough for another person's review.

Ah, well. It can't be perfect. Not with two urchins rushing about, undoing what you did seconds after you leave a room. What I wouldn't give for Samantha from Bewitched to pop in and wiggle her nose to put it all back together. Or maybe Barbara Eden with a magic nod. Heck, I'd settle for Robin Williams impersonating a genie in Aladdin these days! At least the kids would recognize his voice and sit still for a minute.

Anyway, I'm keeping notes on story and blog ideas pretty organized so when I can get time to write there will be no shortage of topics to choose from. These days, it's about choices. We choose to do what's important to us at that time. For me, at least scribbling this entry was important. Now back to my regularly scheduled activity: driving! Ciao.