Monday, March 9, 2015

Kristen's Nine Questions

Presented here, are my answers, and the questions, to "Nine Things I Wonder About Other Writers" put together by Kristen, from her blog post over at Navigations (little lodestar).  http://www.littlelodestar.com/?p=4759

Brought to my attention courtesy of my friend T. Pascal, who saw it thanks to our mutual acquaintance Shen Hart.

1. Do you share your work with your partner or spouse? Does it matter if it’s been published yet? 

I share what I write with my spouse sometimes.  Though I've learned what to expect from certain things.  If it is an especially rhyme-y poem, then I can expect a standard "Nope, I don't like that" with an accompanying muttering as she walks away that sounds an awful lot like "Fucking Doctor Seuss rhymey whiney bullshit....."  My more narrative story pieces get a much better reception from this quarter.

Second half of the question almost doesn't count?  As everything that I write gets published, first on the daily blog, then in the yearly collection at the end of the calendar year (or put into a special collection if it is of a theme or storyline)

2. How much of your family and/or closest “friends in real life first” read your stuff…let alone give you feedback about it? 

That's both easy and hard to define, in that order.  My mother wants hard copies of my books for her coffee tables, though I have no idea if she has ever cracked on open; and I've spared her my more risque publications as well.  I receive no comments from my family about my writing.  I get the distinct feeling they all might be embarrassed about it all (my wife being the exception).

Friends in real life?  I'm not sure I have any anymore perhaps.  Of people I interact with face to face, I have nobody I would consider a friend anymore.  Defined by:  seeing someone outside of work on purpose for drinking/playing/etc.  I have people I consider work-circle friends, and none of them have read my writing, that I know of.

I have several people I do not see face to face, whom I have met through the internet, that I chat with almost every single day.  I consider them friends in real life.  They have all read my writing, and have thought highly off the odd piece here and there.  And their opinion means the world to me, as shown by the tears that well up at just the thought of them at this moment.

I don't ask for feedback often.  When I do, I truly need it for reasons out of my control.  My ego is a fragile thing, and a rejection or harsh comment from a real person can send me into a tailspin that will see me not write anything for weeks as a result.  My friends and fellow writers have so far shown a talent for weaving constructive criticism into a comment that does not harm me, only helps.  For that I am thankful.

3. What do you do with the pieces that continually get rejected–post on your blog? Trash? When do you know it’s time to let it go?

Clearly, these questions were written by a 'real' writer, who actually submits things to others for publication.  I don't do that (see the fragile ego issue from the last question).

I did submit a couple things two years ago to a certain publication.  One which I thought I had not one, but two, slam dunks to offer them.  Much to my chagrin, they were both rejected.

I was only somewhat consoled by the fact that none of the pieces that made it into their book were poetry based.  Serving to cement their bad taste.

Those two pieces ended up in my erotic poetry collection.  With a pithy paragraph in the introduction, shaming the rejecting entities.

I guess I don't let things go in the traditional sense.  As my version of letting go, is publishing.

4. Are there pieces you write for one very specific place that, once rejected, you just let go of, or do you rework into something else?

See the above question for reference on this.  I do write for specific places sometimes.  Once, I was asked to write a guest blogger entry or three.  But that turned into a bit of a fail.  As I took it far too seriously, and threw my personal style right out the window in the interest of writing "Professionally".  Turns out, my personal style was the whole reason I'd been asked to submit guest writing to begin with.  Lesson noted.

I also write to the weekly prompt in the community group Poets of G+.  I should do that every week, as it is a very healthy exercise for me.  But I don't.

Incidentally, something I wrote specifically for the Prompt, got rejected right out of there one week.  I was tiffed beyond belief.  Especially as I had gone to great lengths, gone around the world the opposite direction, etc; to incorporate the prompt in a 1600 word piece (as the last line).  It got rejected as "This is not poetry".  I was mad about that for about a year.  Then I realized that, regardless of the style I wrote it in, it kind of wasn't poetry.  This was really hit home when I did successfully write a narrative poem for the same group, which got high praise from people whose opinion I valued.

I took that 'Not Poetry' and it is being incorporated into a section of a novel I am working on.  And I am twice as happy that I was prodded by that prompt into writing it now.

5. What is your main source of reading-based inspiration (especially you essayists)? Blogs? Magazines? Journals? Anthologies? Book of essays by one writer?

I am often inspired by what my fellow writers will post online.  I enjoy riffing on their ideas sometimes, and have been pleased with some of the results.  Beyond that, anything I read could serve as an inspiration, often the most banal things, like Wiki articles, or some five part list article on Cracked.

I am currently dredging everything up in my memory banks about 1800's to early 1900's beliefs about our Solar System.  So lots of Red Mars stuff; like Princess of Mars, and The Martian Chronicles.  Along with the 2014 anthology "Old Mars".  (I've pre-ordered "Old Venus" as well.)  Stories and ideas that had us thinking that these other planets were places we could go walk around on.

The question doesn't ask, but I write what I consider to be my best poetry, with music playing.  It gives me a rhythm and phrasing to write to. Sometimes one song on a loop will serve as a template for a poem.  And nobody ever knows.....(usually)

6. What tends to spark ideas more for you: what you see/hear in daily life or what you read?

(oops, I should have waited)  When it comes to poetry, more than anything else, music inspires it.  The best, are songs that have particularly good lyric phrasing, that provides a real structure to write to.

My passions inspire writing as well;  aviation, aviation maintenance, typewriters, tools, animals in the backyard, even odd stains on the wall.

I never know what will inspire something in me.

7. Who have you read in the past year or two that you feel is completely brilliant but so underappreciated?

Ok, I want very badly to say "Almost everything that T. Pascal writes".  But, since he dropped my name as an answer to this same question, that raises moral implications for this answer.

So I must think of another writer.... I discovered someone on Tumblr just recently, who is very much on my wavelength as far as writing, and I loved some of his pieces.  And damned if I can recall who it is.  (this kind of illustrates how much of a mess I find tumblr is to use when you want to find something specific!)

I guess I kind of failed this question.  NEXT!

8. Without listing anything written by Dani Shapiro, Anne Lamott, Lee Gutkind, or Natalie Goldberg, what craft books are “must haves”?

I have to echo a previous answer to this, a little less elegantly, with a hearty "Who the feck are these people we aren't supposed to mention now?"  I suppose this utterly reveals my roots as a not real writer/author individual.  But I have no idea, as I don't know even what those people write about.

I refer to the Chicago Manual of Style, when I work my publishing end of things sometimes.  And I think everyone should reference some manual of publishing style when making a book or ebook, at the very least just to see what you are doing blatantly wrong.  Beyond that, I don't consider any book on the craft of writing to be a must have.

I think this is because I have decided upon a course of style for my writing, and I'm tacking HARD into it.  Come hell or high water, the what and how I write will be recognized in the long run.  Or not.  I'm not going to change my craft to suit anyone else, ever again.

9. Have you ever regretted having something published? Was it because of the content or the actual writing style/syntax? 

Almost; and it was because of the content.

The first thing I almost regretting writing, and publishing for the world to see; was about some early sexual experiences I had with someone.  And when I say 'early', I mean that I was seven years old.

I feel that sharing things like that, in public places such as this, lets it be found by people who may be feeling like freaks for having something similar happen to them when they were young.  It is important to talk about such things, so that nobody feels alone.

For context, think about someone with a 'weird' thing happening to their body.  If you Google it, chances are, you'll find a group of people talking about just that exact thing.  It helps you feel like you aren't alone, and gives you some idea of how to deal with it.

Well, that bit I wrote, got me accused of being a pedophile by one particular, vocal, person.  And while this all happened within a relatively small community group; it was one of the most upsetting things I've ever experienced in my life.

It was a real test of my practice of using my real name for publishing things online, as well as my practice of not taking things down, as long as they were an honest representation of who I am in real life, warts and all.

This incident also cemented a few people as real friends in my mind.  Are they "real face to face" friends?  No, and we may never actually share a cup of coffee together, as it were.  But they are real friends to me, as real as it gets.  They each defended what I had written, long before I even realized what was going on, and even offered experiences in their own lives regarding similar things.  It was cathartic for me in the end.

A real experience.

As another thing on this last question: I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop, when it comes to my election as a School Board Trustee last fall for the local school.  I kind of can't wait, and am kind of dreading, the day that someone around here discovers my writing.

I'm not ashamed of anything I've put out, and I started actively writing online, and publishing in 2011/12.  So this facet of my life was very public knowledge to the voters of my district, long before my election victory.  If anyone had bothered to Google my name, everything is laid out to find.

So I sometimes wonder; will it be my erotic poetry book?  or perhaps that time I explored racism? or even my series of essays on creating a libertarian/communist society out of America?  And let's not forget my short story on a fictional violent coup attempt in the USA.

But I won't back down from a word of it.  Not one bloody word.  For if you read all the silly things I've written, between the Worries, the poetry, the stories; that is who I am.  And if I deny who I am, then I am nobody.

And being a nobody to even yourself, would be the worst thing I can think of.

Cheers



Saturday, January 24, 2015

What I wrote to Tim about self publishing - via FB

A coworker noticed that I self-published books of my work; and asked me about how to make them. So I gave him this blowhard-length answer. I can't recall when we had this exchange now, must have been late 2012? This is what I told him:
"Tim, I apologize for not being more illuminating earlier about books and publishing. I'd be happy to talk about it if you were interested.
I go into it in greater detail in the foreword of my first book. But the gist of the "Why?" is the having of a legacy of some kind.
I'm not much of a builder, or a physical media artist. So beyond my kids, I wanted to leave something with my name on it behind when I go. For me, that meant writing, and subsequently publishing what I wrote into some books that could survive beyond me.
It's been a lot of fun so far. I initially looked into www.lulu.com for self publishing, as they make it insanely easy to put together just about any kind of book you'd like to have. Photo books, poetry books, novels, etc. And you can have just one made for yourself, or a thousand. Prices not bad either.
I gravitated to Amazon's Kindle publishing site, as well as their Createspace physical book site; for the simple fact of having a larger audience via Amazon able to see and get my books. It fit my goal a little better.
Amazon give me exposure, but not necessarily lots of sales. I get more traffic as far as downloads using Smashwords.com where my books are available for free as ebooks.
It's not as physical as I'd like, but it lets people read them if they wish.
I don't plan on getting rich, or famous, off my books. The best thing I could envision happening, would be someone becoming inspired by something I came up with, to write, or make, something really great. So I just imagine what I write to be "Seeds" for human creativity.
Keeps me realistic, and humble.
But yeah, if you wanted to put something together, I'd be happy to give any advice I might have gained so far.
My first book, was a real monster to put together: Over 700 pages, 75,000 words, 366 chapters. It was a real learning experience. And basically chronicled what I did as far as writing, every day, in 2011.
Sorry this got so long. Hour long lunch, plus idle hands, equals this. Sometimes.
Cheers!"



1/24/2015 update: he never got back with me. So either my advice was so good that he didn't need to; or ..... other.

I'm betting hard on 'other'.

Cheers
To not knowing as much as I think.

Beware The Shithouse Fool

"You should've been a lawyer"

I get that a lot.  Often from my wife, or my mother.  I used to get it from my dad, but he doesn't say much anymore; though I try to get his opinions on things when I think about visiting his grave*.  And I'm sure that people I work with sometimes think to themselves "Shithouse lawyer", when I lay some of my oh-so-reasoned-logical arguments upon them.

I say a lot of that with tongue firmly in cheek of course.  Because I shouldn't have been, and they do, and no they really are not.  Answered and commented in order with reference to the above.

I should be a lawyer, for about the first three minutes of a conflict; whether it be a debate, discussion, argument, whatever.  After that, I start to wonder why I'm there, and what all the fuss was about.

But by then, I've said things I have to stick with now.  Why?  Pride?  Not sure.  But I try to.  Often for as much as five minutes more.  By which time I've mentally thrown in the towel.  Fuck it.  Because few things are worth the kind of effort it takes to maintain a logical repartee in debate for that long.  We are talking upwards of 8 minutes here, people!

I try not to do it anymore really.

I'd go on about this as I have about things in the past, but to be honest, I'm feeling too down about the latest of such incidents last night.  After the other person really only showed concern for me on a certain subject, that I did not want to discuss; I got defensive, I got dicky, and after an appropriate amount of defensive offense, which hurt the other person's feelings; I disengaged.

Because.  Effort.  Fuck it.

If an argument isn't even worth it to me to finish, I should probably start to preemptively stop myself from starting it.  I think I'd be better off in the long run.

The only question is:  Will my wife get sick of my bullshit, before I stop?

Cheers
To being a complete fool, apparently.


*Me thinking of visiting my dad's grave, consists of me driving right by where he is buried.  Probably only about 75 yards away.  Twice a day, every day that I work.  When I'm feeling emotionally peckish, I will think thoughts of him and his morals and opinions as I go by.  But never stop.

And the answer to that why, would take a much longer separate post.  And just not today, thanks.

Oh, but I did visit my Grandparent's grave a week or so ago.  My Mom's mom and dad.  They are down in Saginaw, in a Mausoleum.  A place which reminds me of Hellraiser, and gave me bad dreams.  I miss them though, and I plan on going back to leave some pictures of them on the wall next to their names, as we saw a lot of the other one's had.  1980 was so very long ago.




Friday, October 4, 2013

Poetry and Bananas

I am a poet.  There, I said it.  Now you can all point and laugh, or whatever it is that we do to self professed poets these days.

That being said; I have an opinion about how poetry should look to me.  I can't say if it's right or not.  I just know that there is a certain way that I like to write, that actually feels like poetry to me.

I can defend this point of view with this brief explanation:  What does it mean when someone stands back from something, and exclaims "That is poetry!" ?

In my experience, they are referring to something that is beautiful to them, something that flows easily, something that seems natural, and maybe even lasting in nature.  

I've heard that exclamation in reference to sports.  When a difficult run or catch, or unusual move is pulled off with an effortless kind of grace by the athlete.  It looks like poetry.  Because it is what it is.  

I've heard that in reference to architecture, paintings, sculpture, natural landscapes, and the occasional nude man or woman.  In all cases, referred to as 'poetry', due to how it looks, and more importantly, how it makes the observer feel inside.

That's essentially what poetry is to me:  A group of words, no matter how you put them together, that flow naturally, and make you feel their beauty on the inside of your soul.

On achieving the goal of producing poetry, as I've defined it; I will be charitable, and say that I succeed about 10% of the time.  

The other 90% of time made up of near misses, never should've attempted's , and what was I thinking's.  

The 10% of the time that I succeed at putting words together in a pleasing way, at least to me (remember, this is all subjective!); it tends to flow out of my fingers effortlessly.  Whether it is from a well thought out beginning, middle and end; or from the seed of one word or phrase.  

It is beautiful.  Just like the tuned athlete in motion, it flows without effort for both writer and reader.  With natural starts, stops, and pauses; unforced rhymes and ideas.

To be honest, I was going to take this opportunity to complain about something that myself and a friend have dubbed as "Banana Poetry".  Called so, because it drives me bananas.  

It is the practice of some poets, to dice up their words.  Whether to force a rhyme from the middle of a sentence; or to create unnaturally paused two to three word lines.  

I will give an example using the first five lines of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken":

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

I suppose a scholarly person could describe that as "An example of a-b-a-a-b poetry stanza, blah blah blah"

Whatever.  It's pretty, and a great start, to a great poem, that people can generally look at, and call it "Poetry".  

Ok, now what if I break it up like this?

Two roads
Diverged
In a yellow wood
And sorry 
I could not
Travel both
And be one
Traveler
Long I stood
And looked 
Down one as far
As I could
To where it bent
In the undergrowth

Does that flow as nicely?  Does that make as much sense?  

Ok, I know art is subjective.  And poetry, being art, is no exception.  But the Frost structured original, flows much nicer to me, and is poetry so much more, than the one I broke up for the example.

Same words, same poet; but phrased very differently.

You see, to me, a poem has natural pauses.  Just like punctuation, but you don't even need punctuation in the damned thing, because of how you laid it out.  And how the poet lays it out, with all it's implied pauses and stops, is how it is to be read in the readers head.  And if you didn't mean for the reader to stop at a certain word at the end of a line for a breath; then you've kind of failed at your job.  Because that is what readers do at the end of a line in a poem; they stop to take a breath, so to speak.  

And then another one that drives me bananas.  The ones that cut and hack, just to gain a rhyme.

Just imagine lines of a poem, that are cut off midstride, just to attain that magical a-b-a-b rhyme rhythm.  Which is very overrated.  Yet pretty sweet when you come by it naturally.  

Well, anyways, that is just some commentary by me.  About what poetry is to me, as of this date: 10-5-13.  

I'm sure next year, I will feel differently.  

Oh, and incidentally, when I bitch about a style that drives me bananas:  It is because I've probably tried it, many times; and I hated it, couldn't make it work.  So that's why I don't like it.  As it doesn't feel like poetry to me.

That's not to say it doesn't feel like poetry to YOU.  Or someone else.  So save your hate.  I know it's subjective, I've said so three or four times now.  

When something is poetry, you KNOW it.  From balls to brain.  Nobody has to tell you.  

Cheers, to poetry, in all it's myriad guises.


Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Aviation Myth and Legend

I'll bet you know some aviation myths.  They could be misconceptions, half truths, outright lies; many different things.  But many of them do have value, regardless.

Why?  Because they do many things.

They can teach, as in a parable.  Does it matter if a parable is true, if it teaches a valuable lesson about something?

They can generate interest in something.  There is that old saying, "There is no such thing as bad publicity"; which as a lot of truth to it.  If there are crazy stories floating around about something, it does make people interested.  Which is in no small part due to our train wreck mentalities as humans.  I still don't know why I slow down to look at car crashes.  If I saw someone horribly injured, I'd have a hard time getting the image out of my head.

They can assuage fears of the unknown.  Maybe someone doesn't have the time or savvy to really understand a concept of how an airplane flies; so a story is told to them about how wings make lift which might be not 100% technically true.  But now they feel better about airplanes, and maybe an upcoming trip.

Aviation Legend, is another thing entirely in my opinion.  These are the things that really happened.  But they were never officially written down or reported.  This can happen for various reasons, similar to reasons you might not report every incident with your car:  Insurance, bad press, etc.

But the aviation legends, are the really interesting stories, even if they get exaggerated over time;  until they begin to resemble myths themselves.

I wrote of one such legend in my first Tales of The Wrench collection.  Specifically, the short story entitled A Tale of Two Towers.  That story was heavily based on events that actually took place in the mid 1990's, in South America.  A Douglas DC-8 really did become lost in the clouds on a test flight, and it really did crash through two huge radio/television antennae on top of a mountain (after narrowly avoiding the mountain itself!).  It really did get tangled up in the support cables, and lose almost 8 feet of it's right wing.  Then it managed to land safely.

You won't find that reported anywhere officially.  It never happened.  But it did.

I've been looking on and off for any mention of this accident for years.  But I have yet to find anything.  I know there is a stack of 35mm photos of the plane right after it landed.  They show the tattered end of the wing where it was severed, the cables wrapped around the wings cutting into the flaps and leading edge, and the chunk of metal antenna structure that bounced along on top of the wing.  But I don't know who has them.

I helped repair the aircraft after it was ferried back to the States.  But I didn't take any pictures myself.

I remember how it looked when it landed.  With strips of "battle damage repair" metal riveted in place over the jagged cuts in the wing trailing and leading edges, from the antenna support wires.  The boilerplate splice that was Huck bolted onto the right wing, attaching a salvaged wing tip in place for the ferry flight.

How we carefully repaired all the damage, and the crazy looking three or four layer doubler that served to splice in that 'new' right wing tip, when it was all said and done.

 I felt it was important to write that story down, and share it.  Because of how marvelous it really is.

All stemming from a mistake of losing track of where you were in a very mountainous area; everything that followed was a straight up miracle of ability, engineering, and luck.

That the aircraft was able to full-throttle climb it's way up the face of that mountain, plow through a couple pretty substantial metal structures, lose a large wing section, and still be able to fly safely and land; is all a testament to the machine and the engineers at Douglas Aircraft.

That the flight crew was able to react to the mountain to begin with, accept what had happened, and stabilize the aircraft for flight and landing; is a tribute to their training and skill.

That's why that story is important.  It shows what can happen, and still be walked away from.  It provides confidence and a bit of pride.

As well as that underlying parable lesson: Don't get lost flying around in the mountains.


Sunday, June 2, 2013

Connor's Family Tree Report

My 13 year old son had to write a Family Tree report for school some months back.  And what he came up with was......let's say "creative".  We had him change it to be a little more factual.  But I saved the first draft of it, just because it was rather awesome in it's own way.

I'm just going to put this here for posterity.
_____________________
Connor Robel’s Family Tree Report 2013 (1st Draft)

My family mostly came from the countries bordering the Northern Atlantic which includes Scotland, United Kingdom, Ireland, East Europe, Hungary, and other countries.  They all came on schooners and frigate ships.  Some of them were poor and came to America to work or own farms.  While some other people came to America almost as wealthy as the Queen of England. 

The Putz’s were the first to come to America.  Of course, to actually get to America, they had to sail past the Statue of Liberty.  After that, they fled to Michigan to start a new life on a farm.  Of course, in 1913’s storm of the century, the Putz’s barn almost collapsed because of the 67 mile per hour winds.  The Putz’s survived the gale but at a cost of their barn.

Arnold Edward Feher was married to Jean Francis McCann, but later served as an ambulance driver during World War II.  Years after that ordeal serving the Army, he went into retirement for the rest of his life.  Dying in 2009, the end of a veteran. 


One of the dominant traits passed on are us having no widow’s peak for our hairlines.
_______________________

I rather like the part about the Putz family 'fleeing' after their passing of the Statue of Liberty.  

That, and the whole "wealthy as the Queen of England" thing.  

My son, has this way of making logical leaps in his mind; so that things make sense to him.  This is that, put into writing form.

Cheers

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

The Flame Challenge Submission

I posted an entry into Alan Alda's Flame Challenge

I thought I'd share it with you. It's not terrible, it's not great. It didn't even get an honorable mention! Go check out the website for the specifics. But the basic rules were: Explain what 'flame" is, to an 11 year old Alan Alda.

Here's my submission:

Dear Alan,

Thank you so much for asking me what a flame is!

Flame, in my understanding, could best be described like this:

Hot, bright, and hungry.

Almost like a living thing, flame needs air, heat, and food (which we would call fuel, like for a car)

When those three things come together in the right amounts, "Flame" happens.

You could also call it a fire.

The flame eats the fuel, changing whatever it eats into something like "Flame poop" This is the ash left behind after the flame is done.

If you put flame to paper, you will be left with very visible ashes, sometimes almost a black and brittle twin to the original paper!

If the flame is eating a gas, like the natural gas you might have at home for your mom's oven and stove; the ash left behind is so slight that you can't even see it. But over time, maybe weeks or months, if you burn a gas like that in the same place, there will be some ash left that you can see.

So flame is hot, and bright, and eats what it is burning, changing it into something like ashes.

I'm not a scientist Alan, but I hope I've helped you with your question!

Sincerely

Fred Robel