What I'm Reading

I read a lot, but I never seem to make any progress in getting through all the books I have waiting for me.

I blame this on comics.

I don't re-read books, mostly because they're such an investment of time that it takes away from discovering new books.  But I do re-read comics.  And that's how they get me.

It's the Netflix quandry.  My wife and I will sit down to watch something on Netflix and, without fail, we decide we don't want to invest the time in a movie, so we'll watch a television show instead.  And then we will watch multiple episodes of said television show, the cumulative time of which surpasses the length of most movies.

That's how it is with me and comics.  The amount of time I spend reading comics -- often comics I know are bad, but just can't resist -- easily equals the time I would invest in books.  So it is that I don't read nearly as many prose books as I should.

An excellent example of my comic book disease is the fact that I recently read the first couple of years worth of comics published by the original Valiant, Malibu's Ultraverse, and Marvel's New Universe.  None of these lines of comics is particularly good by any stretch of the imagination, yet I spent a lot of time reading them.  For some strange reason, I wanted to get a complete picture, so I read every single book in order of publication.  That was particularly hard with the Ultraverse, as they cranked out new titles at an alarming rate.

I'm digressing.  More on those lines of comics in the future.

Books

Anyway, right now I'm making my way through the "Best American Short Stories 2012." I've only made it through the first 9 of 20 and so far "Pilgrim Life" by Taylor Antrim has been my favorite, which should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me.  "What We Talk About When We Talk About Anne Frank" by Nathan Englander deserves special notice if for nothing else than its ballsy title.

I'm trying to get to the point where reading good short stories inspires me more than enrages me with jealousy.  It's always been about a 50/50 split.  I think I'm making good progress on that front, though.

I'm also about 50 pages into "The Forest of Hands and Teeth" by Carrie Ryan.  I'm not sure how much farther I'll make it.  On one hand, I'm 1/6 of the way through and it didn't take me that long to read the first 50 pages, on the other hand, there are a lot of books out there waiting to be read and I'm not sure I should be allocating any more of my precious reading time to a book I'm not thrilled about after 50 pages.

The problem, for me, is how melodramatic it is.  I understand the situation is dire and there's lots of drama to be had, but the writing style is just too over the top for me.  The beauty of something like "The Hunger Games" is that, right from the start, we get just a tiny bit of contrast.  Katniss has Gale and her sister.  There's a forest outside the district limits where she can go with Gale and, at least for a few hours, feel free.  And when bad things happen, it's horrible, yes, but Katniss is seldom hyperbolic.  We get very few "That was the moment I quit believing in God" moments, when I feel like there have been about a dozen of those in "Forest of Hands and Teeth."

Which isn't to say that it's a bad book, just that it's probably not for me.  Part of that might be my own issues, as I think I used to write in the same first-person-tell-instead-of-show type of hyperbole.  Nicole liked it well enough to read the sequel, though, and she's got pretty good taste in books, so it can't be all bad.

And, of course, I'm reading the synopsis I wrote for "Master of the House."  I read it over and over and over and over and over...

Comics

Aside from the aforementioned lines of comics, I've also jumped into Astro City and I can't believe it's taken me this long.  I read the first volume a while back and really enjoyed it, but for some reason never got around to reading more.  I'm remedying that in a hurry.

I think most people assume Astro City is just Kurt Busiek doing stand-ins for Big Two characters, which allows him to tell the types of stories they wouldn't let him.  But that's not the case.  Yes, he's dealing with some superhero archetypes, but the Astro City universe is much, much more than that.  Each issue is character driven with a rich history.  There's a real sense that this world has existed for decades.  It's everything you could ever want from a superhero book.

I'm also currently digging up everything I can find about the Atom, Ray Palmer.  This is because I'm referencing him in a new short story.  The parallels between Palmer and the main character are eerie, given that I wrote an entire short story about this particular character already.  I have never had an interest in the Atom until I randomly decided to use him in a story.

Ray Palmer has a really interesting history.  He was one of the original Silver Age appropriations of a Golden Age name.  He was, of course, a scientist turned superhero.  He was a professor at a small college.  But what made him really interesting to begin with wasn't actually him, it was his girlfriend, Jean Loring.

The first glimpse we get of the dynamic between the two of them is Ray asking her to marry him and Jean saying no.  We then learn that this happens on a regular basis.  Jean's a brand new lawyer and she refuses to settle down until she's made it on her own.  This was in 1961.

Now, sure, the implication is that when Jean gets married, she has to give up her career, but the fact that she's putting her career ahead of getting married is still surprisingly progressive.

Ray and Jean have a lot of twists and turns to their relationship and it ends about as badly as it possibly can, and by "badly" I mean both negatively and horribly portrayed.  But that's comics -- constantly destroying what you love only to bring it back again a few years later.

I'll update this a month from now and we'll see how much progress I've made.

People Love Free Stuff

About a year ago, I started posting some of my short stories online for free.

Believe it or not, I get at least one download a day, which is surprising considering how much traffic this blog gets.  It's not surprising that people would download them -- people love free stuff.  If I had to guess, I would say that maybe 10% of those people ever actually read the stories.

Here's the free info Keepandshare.com lets me see:

Weight.mobi -- (47)

Mercurial.epub -- (57)

Gateway Drug.mobi -- (80)

unrequited.epub -- (110)

Grimm.epub -- (70) 

For those who might not be aware, .mobi are Kindle files.

It's not surprising to me that "Unrequited" is doing the best of all of the five that I can see, as it's probably the best story.  "Gateway Drug" probably owes a lot of its downloads to its title.  

If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that all the stories, in both formats, probably adds up to 800 downloads over a little more than a year.  Not bad for a writer no one has heard of.

Here's a list of the posts that will take you to my free stories:


Unrequited
Gateway Drug
Grimm
Mercurial
Weight

What's Important 7: Validation

About 13 years ago, I wrote a song that would eventually be called "Not So Much a System as a Theory," which was something that actually came out of my mouth one day.  Anyway, the crux of that song got played by a couple of different groups of people, and to this day I couldn't even really tell you how it's supposed to go, just how it could.

All that really mattered with "System/Theory" was the riff at the end and, I think, the vocals that went along with it (ideally sung by someone who can, you know, sing).

A good ten years after I wrote that ending, I realized that I'd stolen some lyrics from an obscure Jawbox song.  The bit in question was from a song called "The Big Shave" and went "I don't want to/be the one who/reassures you."

Anyway, this is actually a round about way of getting to the line in "System/Theory" that follows it (yet with the same melody, more or less): "I don't want to/be your/be your/validation."

As I have been struggling with my quest for, well, I guess you would say acceptance of life, or, perhaps more accurately, the ability to be happy with what I have, I keep tripping up on my writing.  There is no other aspect of my life in which I feel the need to prove to others that I'm successful.  It's nice if people find out that I'm a loving husband, a wonderful grandson, a great son, a pretty good brother, and a reasonable friend, but it doesn't keep me up at night.  While there is fault to be found with all of those things, I've made peace with them and accepted that it's all a part of who I am.

It doesn't matter to me if people know how responsible I am, or how personally I take almost everything I do.  At this point in my life, I don't even really care if anyone finds me attractive or not, just as long as Nicole does.

I am probably more confident about myself than I have been at any other point in my 37 years, save perhaps a single summer in 2004.

And I still crave recognition for my writing.

I'm going to do something I try not to do in this blog, but I don't think I have much of a choice, given what I'm writing about: I'm going to talk about my family.

Because here's the thing: I want a great writer to tell me I'm great.  I want to sell a ton of books.  I want to

be a full time writer.  I want to do these things to prove that my decision to write wasn't just some weird, flight of fancy.  I want to show that this thing that I do that was wholly my creation and my creation alone is valid.

It's not that my parents ever actively discouraged me from writing (although there were a few moments).  It's just not something they really understood.  Honestly, they still don't.  And that's fine.  I can't imagine that I'm going to understand everything that my theoretical child values.

But I'm a Midwestern kid from a middle class family and importance is placed on things that don't include writing.  Importance is placed on crossing the T's and dotting the I's.  You go to high school to go to college to get a job to meet someone to get married to start a family.  You might take a winding road to get there, but those are the main stops.

And there's nothing wrong with any of that.  For as hard as it's been for me to adjust to my new, suburban lifestyle, I've started to accept it, and realized that there's nothing wrong with it.  There's nothing wrong with a house in a cul-de-sac in a good school district.  There could be worse paths for me to be placed on.

But writing was never a road that was laid out for me.  Writing was a road I created because some stupid part of my brain said that I needed it.  Writing is my thing.  And for some reason, I want to prove that it's worthwhile.

The dichotomy at work there is interesting.  If I've learned anything since I was a little kid, it's that writing is a singular pleasure that can only be experienced by the writer.  It's not that other people can't enjoy what someone writes, but they will never get the thrill out of it that the writer does.  On that level, writing is something you can only ever do for yourself, because only you can fully appreciate it.  And yet I still want people to read my work, and I want them to enjoy it and eagerly anticipate more.

I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing.  I think being aware of a theoretical audience has ultimately made me a better writer.  I could churn out pages and pages of junk and never bother to edit it if I was only thinking of myself.  After all, why re-write those pages if they're just for your own enjoyment?  If it's just for fun, it really makes no difference.  But if it's to express something, then someone else eventually has to read it, unless you're in desperate need to express something to yourself (which is another issue entirely).

I've started to get better about these things.  I still day dream about a book deal, about giving notice at my job because I can afford to write full time.  I've written entire interviews in my head with Poets and Writers.

I think the weight of the life my parents always wanted me to have has lessened; it no longer crushes the life I chose for myself.  There's a balance starting to form, one which hopefully allows me to be content with the process of writing.

Now I just need to figure out how to do that without alcohol.

 Not the song I ripped off, but Jawbox's cover of Tori Amos' "Cornflake Girl"

What's Important 6: "Writer"

It's 9:03 on a Tuesday night and I'm sitting in front of my computer, much like I do most of the nights of the week.  My wife is in the living room watching television and it was all I could do to force myself away from her and into my office.  My desk is covered with papers, vaguely organized by story.  There are pens of every color all over the place.

This is about as true a picture of my existence as you're going to get, but chances are good I would never tell you that I'm a writer.

Every once in a while, I'm social.  It's almost always with Nicole next to me, and usually it's with her family.  But there have been occasions where I've been social with strangers, although still with Nicole by my side.

Inevitably, the strangers will ask me what I do.  And, inevitably, I will pause before I answer.  If she's quick enough, Nicole will interject, and tell the stranger that I'm a writer.  They will ask me what I write and I will become even more socially awkward than normal.

This is what Dictionary.com has to tell me about writers:

writ·er

[rahy-ter] Show IPA

noun

1. a person engaged in writing books, articles, stories, etc., especially as an occupation or profession; an author or journalist.

2. a clerk, scribe, or the like.

3. a person who commits his or her thoughts, ideas, etc., to writing: an expert letter writer.

4. (in a piece of writing) the author (used as a circumlocution for “I,” “me,” “my,” etc.): The writer wishes to state….

5. a person who writes or is able to write: a writer in script.

So I guess technically I'm a writer.

But I have a hard time making that claim.

I've written three books.  One of them has been published.  I've just started the process of getting the last one published.  The other one has been sitting in a drawer for a while.

I've had a few short stories published by fairly obscure literary journals.  I'm a finalist for the next issue of Best New Writing.  I've got an essay in Joss Whedon: The Complete Companion, published by Titan Books.  I've even got some various pop culture reviews floating around the internet.

I still have a hard time calling myself a writer.

My problem, as always, is that I consider the title "writer" as something you have to earn, and you earn it by being a good enough writer that you can make a living at doing that and nothing else.

There's a certain level of snobbery in that.  The way that I look at it, anyone can call themselves a writer.  Any person who puts a few words on a few pages can say that they're a writer, and that diminishes it for me.  It belittles something that I think is incredibly powerful.

Writing is not something I take lightly and it bothers me that those who do take it lightly can call themselves writers.

The reality, however, is that the aforementioned people are few and far between, certainly fewer than those of us who take writing seriously.

This is my first problem.  I believe that the person who sits at their desk for hours a day writing Star Trek fan fiction for their Star Trek web site doesn't get the same things out of writing that I do, so it must not mean as much, and is therefore not really writing.

I'm wrong about that.  I will admit that right now.  It was pretentious and more than a little bit cruel of me to believe such a thing.  I don't think I even realized I believed that until I really thought about it.  Perhaps that's the price I pay for going to grad school.

Anyone who writes gets something from the writing that they need, and who am I to say that what they get and what they need are any less than what I get and what I need?

If I can get past my arrogance on what a writer is on that level, then why can't I consider myself a writer?

There's something holding me back.  There's something that won't let me call myself a writer even though I know that's what I am, even though it's something that has defined me for as long as I can remember.

It is, as always, a matter of self-confidence...

This entry, and it's sequel (coming next Monday), are a part of a series of blog posts that just seem to keep going and going.  You can find them here:

What's Important 1: Twitter Tortures Me
What's Important 2: The Social Tank
What's Important 3: Happiness
What's Important 4: The Zen of Art
What's Important 5: You Can Get With This 

Fixing DC Comics 2: Know Yourself

The average person doesn't know the difference between Marvel and DC.  I say this as a guy who has had to, on many occasions, inform people that Batman and Spider-man do not exist in the same universe (or Superman and the X-Men, or Green Lantern and Thor, etc.).  There's really no reason why the average person would know.

But comics fans know.  They know to the point of cult like behavior.  I can remember being guilty of it.  When I started reading, I embraced being a Marvel zombie like it was free candy.  I scoffed at anything with a DC logo on it.  Surely they had nothing that could compete with my Spider-man and X-Men books.

That wore off eventually, and the bulk of my comic book buying years have involved buying titles from both companies (and, eventually, a half dozen more).  I think that division is less extreme than it was when I was a kid, mostly because the demographic for comic book fans has gotten older.  It's still evident online, of course, but all stupid human behavior is evident online.

Comic book fans are well aware of the difference between the two companies or, more specifically, their lines of comics.  Part of the problem with DC New 52 is that they've turned their backs on what made the unique.

Marvel has always gotten away with playing the anti-establishment card.  It stems from the books they produced in the 60's, when Stan Lee and Jack Kirby infused personality and character conflict into stories about people in spandex hitting each other.  It was completely counter to what DC was doing and appealed to teenagers, which almost automatically made it anti-establishment.  Marvel was smart enough to ride the counter culture credibility through the 60's and 70's and even managed to maintain it during the 80's, when they were very much run like a corporation.  Still, they were their own business, while DC was the comic book arm of Warner Bros.

Even now, when Marvel is a division of Disney, Marvel still manages to come across as much, much cooler than DC.  Marvel seems more creator driven while DC seems more editor driven.  Marvel seems able to maintain the carnival barker persona that Stan Lee created fifty years ago and, in turn, are able to generate excite about their books.  They've mastered the art of the illusion of change, even while they're beholden to the movie versions of their characters.

Marvel is a superhero company.  The company name appeared on two non-superhero books before Fantastic Four #1 was released, and from then on it's been 90% superhero titles.  The company has a history of westerns, romance, and monster comics, but those were all pre-Marvel.  In a way that DC isn't, Marvel is synonymous with superheroes.

And that's not a bad thing for either company.

Marvel has tried to tie its pre-Marvel history into their line of comics with varying degrees of success, but it's ultimately irrelevant.  Its fan base wants superhero comics and Marvel does a nice job providing what their audience wants.

DC is different, or at least it used to be.

Technically, DC didn't officially go by DC until the 70's, but the DC brand could be seen on their comics in the 40's.  It may seem like a small distinction, but it's an important one.  DC's long history was ever present, to the point where they were still publishing war and horror comics well into the 80's.  Those books came out right next to their superhero line.  For better or worse, the company that popularized superheroes was less of a superhero company than their main competition.

Seventy-five years of history gave DC two very clear differences from Marvel: they had a large, complicated, crazy past to draw from, and they had legacy characters.

Legacy Characters

The legacy characters made DC unique among comic book companies.  Marvel has never warmed to teenager sidekicks, in no small part, I would imagine, to the fact that most of their initial superheroes were teenagers themselves.

The legacy character ensured that each generation of fan would have a character right about their age that was a part of their favorite family of characters.  Teenagers could follow Robin, twentysomethings could follow Nightwing, and thirtysomethings could follow Batman.  There was a sense of history because of these legacy characters.  There was an idea that the mythology of superheroes was bigger than the individual characters.  It made them iconic.

The Batman Family, found here.

It also created families in a way that Marvel characters can't.  Oliver Queen was a father long before he actually had a biological child.  Wonder Woman isn't just an example to mankind, but an example to Donna Troy and Wondergirl.  Bruce Wayne created the family he never had.  A unique bond was on display with these families, and the personal relationships underscored the iconic nature of the "parents" of these groups.

All of that is gone now.

Wally West never grew up to become the Flash.  He doesn't even exist anymore.  The new Kid Flash seems to have little to do with the current Flash.  Batman's sidekicks have been written off.  Red Arrow and Green Arrow appear to be about the same age.  The team that makes up the Teen Titans has nothing to do with the adults bearing similar names.

The families are gone.  The legacies are gone.  And the DC superheroes are less important because of it.

History

This might be the thing about the New 52 that bothers me the most.  This annoyance has been underscored by what the New 52 has done since launching.

Supposedly, the New 52 was going to be, well, new.  They relaunched a ton of their characters with brand new origins, updated for a modern world, I guess.  But since then all they've done is build this universe around new versions of previously existing characters.  The marketing for the books has been something along the lines of "see what the new version of your favorite character is like!"  And that's asinine.

If the point was to bring in new readers, they aren't going to give two shits about new versions of old characters.  The hook isn't going to appeal to them at all.  The only people it will appeal to are long time fans who would be perfectly happy to see the characters they've known and loved for 70 years.

If the New 52 isn't about creating new characters, then what's the point?

Marvel has been very good about creating new versions of their characters without wiping out the past.  They keep the rich history of these characters and, hey, sometimes they even incorporate that history.  Believe it or not, it's possible to tell an accessible story without ditching a character's past.

DC's history was crazy, I don't deny that.  Their attempts at "fixing" it didn't help matters.  But that crazy

history is part of what made DC so great.  Morrison's run on Batman may be polarizing, but part of the appeal was how he managed to incorporate supposedly deleted moments in DC history into the modern day.  He didn't do it by erasing Batman's history, he did it by embracing it.  Did he tweak a few things?  Sure, but he still kept them.

Fans love the insanity.  When I eventually gave DC a shot, it was the rich, complex history that sucked me in.  I didn't know everything after reading just one issue -- I didn't even know everything after reading for five years, but that was the appeal.  There were so many stories, so many characters, such a diverse universe that I wanted to learn more.  Sure, not every concept was a winner, but there was so much creativity on display that it was hard not to get lost in it -- in a good way.

That's not the way it is anymore.  Now we get rehashes.  Now we get "iconic" versions of characters that are actually less iconic than their previous incarnation.  Now we get a DC universe that has gotten rid of the things that made it special.

What we're left with is a pale imitation.

What's Important 5: You Can Get With This...

"Hooray for Everything!" from the Simpsons

...or you can get with that.  I think you'll get with this, for this is where it's at.

Many, many moons ago, at some indistinct time and immaterial place, I heard or read the phrase "you have to choose to be happy."  And I chose to believe it was a load of shit.

To me, the idea of choosing to be happy was simply living in denial.  It was also about giving up.  I didn't want to do either of those things, although I was, at that time, doing both.

I still don't like the idea of "choosing to be happy."  It's simplistic and, well, wrong.  The more accurate way of putting it is "question your assumptions."

Over the course of a few decades, I've gotten a few ideas into my head, a good many of which aren't particularly right.  But, you know, over the course of those few decades, they stuck.  As with anyone, I've found that I believed things about my life that weren't necessarily true.

Here's a mild example: A few days ago, Nicole and I went away for our anniversary.  We went to a resort in Sonoma.  We got massages at the spa.  While I was getting the massage, I thought "I'm bad at relaxing."  And then I stopped myself.  Because "I'm bad at relaxing," while it may or may not be true, is self-fulfilling.  If I believe it to be the case, then I'm making sure that it is.

Now, I'm not saying that believing that I'm good at relaxing will make that so, but at least I'm not boxing

myself into a corner.

And it works for everything.  "I'm a bad person."  "I'm stupid."  "I'm fragile."  "I'm bad for the people around me."  You can go on and on (note: those are just random examples; I've never, ever thought I was stupid. If anything, I probably have the opposite problem).

My big thing, lately, has been trying to face the preconceived notions of what my life would/should be like.  Don't get me wrong, living in the suburbs is still freaking me out, but just because it might be different than the life that I thought I'd be living, doesn't mean it has to be bad.  And, hell, if I'm being totally honest, I really didn't have much of an idea of what my life would be like at this point, anyway.

The problem is that this philosophy forces me to second guess my initial reactions to pretty much everything. I've spent most of my life second guessing every decision I've ever made (or could make), but it's not those decisions that are problematic, it's how I react to things.  Forcing yourself to take a beat before reacting to something is very, very hard and, really, at odds to how pretty much all of us are raised.

I know I sound like a New Age hippie; I accept that.  I suppose living in Northern California will do that to you.

Four Years

Four years ago today, Nicole and I got married.

Weddings make me nervous.  They made me nervous before I got married and they make me even more nervous now that I've been through it myself.  I might actually get more anxious at weddings than the people getting married.

As is my way, I was disturbingly calm when it came to my own wedding.  Yes, I was anxious about it before, but when it happened I was the picture of serenity.  I am, if nothing, cool under pressure.  It's the time leading up to the pressure that always freaks me out.

I remember when our photographer, Wendy, came to where my brother and I were standing.  She had just come down the elevator with Nicole.  She said "you're a very lucky man."  I said something along the lines of "oh, I know, believe me."

Weddings make me nervous because the bond that makes up a marriage is private.  What Nicole and I have is no one's business but ours, even if I do seem to make a habit of writing about it.  I'm all for big parties with your family and friends, but the whole ceremony proclaiming your love in front of a bunch of people never sat well with me.

I managed to get through it, though, and it's ultimately the shortest scene of that particular wedding movie.

I remember going to Round Table pizza with my friends from Kent just a few hours before I had to get ready.  We watched the Bulls play the Celtics in the NBA playoffs, as our Cavs had already beaten the Pistons by 18 earlier.  I had no idea that the Round Table we went to was not far from Nicole's parents' house, because I didn't know the area that well.

I remember my brother and my parents coming to my room beforehand.  The Indians were in the process of beating the Yankees 22-4, which was just about the best wedding present I could have gotten.  Clearly, it was a sign.

I don't spend much time with my family.  I think my mom was just happy that this day had finally arrived, and that the girl I was marrying was smart and responsible and didn't have a bunch of tattoos.

It's weird to think that Nicole got ready for our wedding at her parents' house.  She had pictures taken with her dad and her maid of honor, Nina, in the back yard.  That all happened here, in a house that's now ours.  We had no idea back then, of course.

Both Nicole's dad and her brother probably had cancer already at that point, we just didn't know.  Her dad would leave us less than a year later.  Her brother is currently in remission.

What we did know, however, was that there were two very pregnant women at the wedding.  One of those children would be Nicole's god son.  I suppose there's some kind of balance in there.

Our wedding was amazing, but I suppose most people say that about their weddings.  It was a blur and I know that everyone says that.  It went by too fast.



Our DJ played "Raised by Wolves" by Voxtrot and only a handful of people danced to it.  He also played "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" by the Darkness.  Only a handful of people danced to that, too.

He played "Rock Lobster," all nearly 7 minutes of it.  I requested it for my brother.  He left the reception to go to bed, came back down for some reason, and it was still playing.

Our first song was the cover of Postal Service's "Such Great Heights" by Iron and Wine.  Our last song was "Question" by Old 97's.

A lot has happened in the last four years.  I know people say that, but I can't imagine that there are many newlyweds that have had to deal with as much over the first four years of marriage as we have.  We've only survived it all because we have each other.  Always and forever, we have each other.

I proposed in the rain in the parking lot of an Irish bar.  It was the second best thing I ever did at an Irish bar.

The first was meeting Nicole.