Writing

Write It Down

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74A899AE-8838-4D79-824215903D4AE5DCHey Kids,

I’m not exactly a poet but sometimes I take a stab at it.

I’m not sophisticated or technical but still, I have my moments.

This morning while on the motorcycle, I had a moment.

I had to work out a few of the 4 lines but it all played out pretty nice in my head.

I, of course, did not write it down. That would mean to stop and do it right then on the side of the road.

Now, the moment is gone and I cannot for the life of me remember it.

I remember the subject and what I felt, but the words tumbled out of my head and off the bike somewhere between here and work.

If you see them, let me know. I really liked the poem and would love to hear it again.

And next time: I’ll stop and write it down.

 

Day 95

That Weekend

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Hey Kids,

Usually there’s one weekend that really kicks off the warm summer weather. Usually it’s in May.sun

Everyone will return to work or school sunburned, lengths of pant and shirt sleeves shortened, tales of wild escapades will be told.

From the looks of the vacated rain clouds that have brought us the most measurable precipitation (people from desert areas understand that statement) in 10 years and the forecasted sunny weather; I’m going to guess that that weekend is the one that starts tomorrow.

I hope I’m right!

 

Stupid Storyline Update- It is less stupid today. A few hours of rewrite have stemmed the crappiness.

“The first draft of anything is [crap]. Earnest Hemingway.

Or sometimes even the 10th.

 

Day 94

Birthday Week- Thursday

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Hey Kids,

It’s Thursday on my Birthday Week and I’m still listing the things I thankful for and the things that make getting older, worth it.

Thursday- Writing.

I’m not all that sentimental or hocus pocus-y when it comes to writing. I have my weird things I do, but no charms, tokens, or rituals. I simply enjoy writing. That’s it. And for that I’m thankful.

Me at 15 in Alaska looking for gold.

Me at 15 in Alaska looking for gold.

From roaming the western deserts with my dad, to working at a gold mine in Alaska, there are a few things that I’ve seen that I want to share. God gave me the eye to see the stories around me, to think of them in terms to explain to others. I have enough brain to be able to string words together into coherent thoughts and sentences.

I struggled with English in school, yet somehow it made sense to me when I learned French.

I resisted reading when I was young yet found authors like Twain, Hemingway, and London that captured my imagination.

I feared writing yet found a voice in learning to speak in Toastmasters and other public speaking occasions.

I hope I have many more birthdays between now and when I think I’m done writing. Which will only stop when I stop breathing.

Literally.

Day 80

Writing the Future

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Hey Kids,

To make a long story short, I needed to map out some writing goals today. I am now committed to 2017 and I’m not even sure if I can keep the pace. And I left out a major project and several stories I had hoped to do in the near future.writing-cycle

So I guess I’m actually booked to 2019 or 2020.

It’s a good thing. I’m excited about the projects ahead of me. I relish that it all seems impossible.

I love being a writer!

Now time to get to work.

 

Day 63

A Person First

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Hey Kids,

Today marks the 105th anniversary of the death of Mark Twain. Mark Twain was/is my writer.

My favorite of his works are “Life on the Mississippi” and “Roughing It”. I can pick up either book at any time and reread just a few parts to spark my creative juices. His story-telling helps me find my inspiration, my voice, and re-kindle the joy of writing, if lost.Mark-Twain-Quotes-5

I’ve been asked how a meeting with Twain and I would go, do I think we would have anything to talk about. Honestly, I can’t imagine I would have anything to offer to him, but I’m sure that a few questions of the Big River or of Virginia City would conjure stories from Twain that he never had time to write. I believe I would buy drinks for as long as he would speak and he would speak for as long as I bought drinks.

I do not know if there is another writer that I could say the same about.

Except for maybe Hemmingway, but that would most likely end up in a fight, which he would probably win, but we would end up in a fly fishing discussion.

I guess my writers were not just writers. They were people I would want to hang out with and hear their stories first hand.

I hope that I am can be the same type of writer.

 

 

Day 57

Hemmingway Did Not Mean It.

mikemjensen Writing Tags: 2 Comments

Hey Kids,

I’m a writer. I write books. Not a lot yet, but I have a couple available.

I spend a lot of my free time writing. I write first drafts, I edit, and I work on the extra things like covers, descriptions, marketing, etc.

It’s my second job.

It can be difficult to figure out how to write things so they are understood as you meant them to be understood; the reader shouldn’t have to guess. It’s difficult to leave the room while others are watching something you would like to watch as well but you need to write. It’s difficult to work when it seems a good time to take a nap but you need to write. When you need to write, there are a bazillion other things that might be more fun, but that’s part of the second job thing. Nobody gets to skip their cashier job at Kwiki-Mart because there’s a new season of Game of Thrones starting. Why would a writer get a medal for writing, i.e. doing his or her job?

Writing, however, is not digging ditches; in fact, it’s much easier. It’s not mystical. There are practices that help people “get in the mood”, but these are all self-inflicted. Magic pixie dust will not be withheld because you forgot to wear your inspirational multicolored socks.

Get over it. Writing is writing words and conveying stories, messages, or information. It’s talking with your fingers on a keyboard. Sometimes it’s amazing what lies in wait to be tapped in one’s head. But in the end, that stuff was already in your head- you just let it out because you decided to write.

Write because you love it. Write because it’s your job. No one holds a gun to your head and no one will.Write-Bleed

Funny, but no blood required.

Just write.

 

Day 53

Self Talk

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2076450897_be1b8ace7c_zHey Kids,

Whoever said that no man is an island has never seen me in a swimming pool.

I keep to myself for the most part. I like people so long as I don’t “have to” have interaction. I’m quiet in groups, more than willing to let others talk at meetings, and am more inclined to stay home than go to parties. I do like to talk but not necessarily to other people.

Yesterday I met with my brother and we had dinner together at a local popular burger joint. It was his birthday the other day and I owed him. We ended up sitting and talking for over 5 hours. And I would say it was pretty much split 50/50 on who was talking.

We covered a number of things with nothing extraordinary; just Bro talk. Family, jobs, cars, bikes, and the like. We also talked a little about our futures and what we had coming up and what we hope would happen in the ever shortening long run.

As a writer, I spend a lot of time in my own head. This blog is one way to get out a little but it’s still talking into an open mic with no ear piece. But I find that, from time to time, it’s good to spend time with fellow humans and to say things out loud.

During one of my turns to talk yesterday, I shared my writing goals and in the midst of sharing, I told myself the theme of a possible 5th book in the OPR series. I had never had or heard the idea before.

I know it’s a brave thing to talk about book 5 when I’m writing book 2 of a book that only me and my mother have read (exaggeration, but not by much)(OK, exaggeration again but only by a little). Anyway, it is odd to talk of book 5, but it made books 3 and 4 become a given. Their possibility of becoming real happened because in order to have a book 5, 3 and 4 have to exist.

I struggle at times to see the big picture. Talking out loud told me that I do see it, I do believe it, and more importantly, I do want it. I don’t think I would have come up with it without speaking out loud to my brother and hearing the words sounding in my ears.

Maybe this is just living in my own head again but in another way. Maybe my brother didn’t have to be there. But the fact remains that the idea didn’t happen until he was.

Despite who you are, what you do, or how weird you might be; time spent with fellow human beings can be a good thing. Even if self-serving.

 

Day 47

Working for a Living

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untitled (6)Hey Kids,

Some days, like today, I wonder what are we all doing?

Today was payroll day, meaning checking my staff’s punches and making sure they got them all in. Then make sure no one worked over 40 hours. And then make sure no one worked under 40 hours. Approve their approvals. Submit. Report that I submitted. Wait for someone to check my submission. Fix anything the checker found that was submitted improperly. And then say done.

Then we wait for the paycheck to be calculated and on the given day, deposited in our checking accounts. After taxes, of course.

We trade our hours for money. Our life for coin. To give to bill collectors. So really, we work for them by the hour. Self-inflicted, I know.

I’m really seeing it as a weird way to live.

I’m going to keep writing. And one day, when my writing reaches enough people who enjoy it and I can exchange my writing for the things I need. I will be done with working by the hour. And instead, live by my art.

Back to writing. Make the dream a reality.

Have a nice day.

 

Day 21