I'm Writing Towards The New World

It's official. I'm going to start channeling the spirit of Christopher Columbus. 

No doubt. We are homies for sure. (Well, beyond that pesky issue of enslaving the indigenous people of Hispaniola. I'm so not hip with that.)

It's being true to his passion that I can get with.

Behold: Sailing. Otherwise known as today's metaphor for life.

Cue the Christopher Cross music. Well, if Cross had written a ballad about being attacked by French privateers on his first voyage into the Atlantic in 1476, where his ship got torched and he had to swim to shore.

Meet passion.

Without it, there'd be no confidence to throw out the crazytown idea of a shorter, safer way to India and volunteer to be the dude to find it. Passion is the difference between giving up, putting your tail between your legs and going home, when someone says, thanks, but no thanks. (Hello Portugal). 

Passion is what gives you the strength to keep knocking, until someone gives you a boat. Or three. Passion guides you in the wide, open, unpredictable water, when there's no dolphin pod whistling sounds of encouragement, no sign that says "Bahamas. Ten miles ahead" or no idea of how long it's going to take you to get to where you think you're going in the first place.

Passion keeps you on track during those days when you're tired of bobbing in the ocean, can't imagine eating another meal of salted sardines and dry ass sea biscuits and you just want to go home to your straw bed.

It's passion that steps up and takes command when there's no concrete assurance, other than the maps you've lightly sketched out and the vague feeling that you're on the right track.

That ticket to the New World?

Only one currency accepted.

You Gonna Eat That?

So, there was this one time that I was a restaurant reviewer.

Okay, so it was more than one time. Best gigs ever!

I got my start working the reception desk at a local alternative newspaper (N-O-T best gig ever), when the news editor gave me the hook-up (or took pity on my English/journalism background) and asked me to write a monthly restaurant review--with a dining budget!

What did I know about food at the time. Nada. No, seriously. Nada. And that was the brilliance of this particular editor. She didn't want a column about the chef's background or where the field greens were grown. She wanted me to describe the scene and if the food was good. That's all. Because isn't that all that really matters?

Sigh, you'd think so, but as any freelancer knows, it all depends who's doing the assigning.

Luckily, a bit of this legacy lives on in cyberworld. Here's just a small taste, of a long-closed restaurant:

http://www.providencephoenix.com/archive/food/97/04/10/ECLECTIC_GRILLE.html

The Magic of Journals. Or Why I've Never Needed Counseling

Friday, December 26, 1980

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was fun! I got Merlin. Santa Claus bought him. I've been sick all today. I need flash bars.

Got to go.

-----------

For Christmas, when I was nine, someone gave me a Diary. Literally. That's what it said on the cotton candy pink vinyl cover, right beneath the illustration of a knock-off Holly Hobbie lying on her stomach in a pinafold dress, clutching a quill pen, while her cat napped beside her.

It should have read: Life Changer.

My supreme emotional health, mental resiliency and balance? No accident. No counseling. No prescriptive drugs. I give all the credit directly to where it belongs.

My journals.

After thirty plus years, eleven completed volumes, with a twelfth in progress, I've recorded a whole lot of amazing stuff. But I'm most proud of the intense self-reflection that's come from writing about the challenges of life, both big and small.

The act of taking a pen to paper provides an opportunity to slow time. It allows you to analyze each situation objectively, from every angle, not just your own. It provides a forum to dig deep to really figure out how you're feeling. It legitimizes your emotions. Journaling gives you a chance to return to the scene of the crime, take back your power and even rework the ending.

And once, you pour it all out on paper? That's when the real magic begins. Those emotions you've worked hard to explore? Turn the page and leave them in the past. Reflect, then move on. Say see-ya-later conflicts. Buh-bye to difficult personalities. Adios to anger, disappointment and sadness. In a few glorious strokes, they've all been, literally, written right out of your life.

Writing is a healer.

Write on.

The Rewards of Rejection

The Great File Cabinet Purge of 2012 had all the elements of an archeological dig. Uncovered? Menus from out-of-business restaurants. Bank statements. And, of course, rejection letters from round one of the literary agent search.

That's right. I wrote a book.

Turns out penning 300 plus pages was the easy part. A whole lot harder? Finding an agent to bridge that exclusive world between author and publisher. Hence, my rejection e-mail, which read in part:

"I apologize for taking so long to get back to you about your work. Several other agents and I read your manuscript, and while we found many merits in your work, including the lively and humorous tone of the text, we unfortunately cannot represent your work at this time. Despite its clear potential, we found the manuscript to be a bit heavy on dialogue and lighter in regard of development of the plot. Undoubtedly these comments are subjective, and should by no means take away from the merits of your piece.

We believe that you are an extraordinarily promising writer and, being that we are a multimedia agency and you have a gift for humor, we would be happy to see any scripts that you may be inspired to write…"

Epic fail? Hardly. Granted, there was no golden ticket of representation, yet, but truth is, there shouldn't have been. The criticism of my book was spot on. Truthfully, all of this could have a bit of something to do with the fact that this was my first attempt at writing fiction. Um, ever.

No, really. Ever.

There were no afterschool fiction workshops. No journals filled with short stories. No college electives. So, all things considered, I think I'm doing a-okay. The humor in my writing? Recognized as a gift, with an invite for a round two submission.

Not too shabby.

So, thank you rejection. I don't see you as a personal attack on my talents or an excuse to give up. Rejection is my reward. It's an opportunity to grow. And to learn. Rejection is a chance to regroup, to figure out how to make it better and how much you want it.

Watch out rejection. I want it bad.

Let's Start At the Very Beginning

When did I decide to become a professional writer?

The year? 1989, when the following essay snagged a top ten spot in the Providence Journal Reading Week Editorial Contest. At the awards ceremony at the Biltmore Hotel, I received a Cross pen, a cheesy wood grained plaque with my name engraved on it (that still hangs over my desk) and a belief that I had indeed found my passion in life.

So, without further adieu, I present one from the archives:

Substance Abuse: A Growing Problem?

Substance abuse has risen in recent years, the result of the overall increased use of controlled substances. Not all, but much of the problem lies in the sporting world, where the problem is publicized the most. Many athletes use drugs to enhance their performance. What these athletes fail to recognize is the strain that they are putting on their bodies by using these 'high-performance' drugs.

Some of the most exploited drugs of our times are anabolic steroids, composed mainly of synthetic testosterone, the chief male hormone. These drugs are banned in the United States, although they may be used by a qualified person in the medical field to treat a select number of patients. Yet, signs of steroid use appear again and again during athletic competition, most recently at the Olympic Games in Seoul, Korea, bringing the downfall of Canadian superstar Ben Johnson.

The case of Johnson should set an example for other steroid users, by showing the negative aspect of taking the drugs. But these athletes seem to ignore the warning signs, instead constantly making rationalizations for their use of steroids. They frequently argue that because everyone else is taking steroids, they must too, just to compete.

No longer is athletic competition based solely on natural ability. Some athletes believe that they cannot win without the aid of drugs. True, there appears to be positive aspects from the user's point of view. The increased strength, speed, endurance and self-esteem may initially improve their performance, but the dangerous side effects far outweigh the beneficial results of the drug. Severe health problems face the drug users, problems which normally would not occur until much later in their lives. These athletes give little or no concern to the ill effects of the drugs on their bodies, instead only focusing on victory.

Another problem which occurs when the sporting world is plagued by drugs is one that affects the general public, the fans of the athletic personalities. Children especially admire sporting superstars. They idolize athletes and give them heroic-like qualities. How can a mother explain to her young child that taking drugs is wrong when the child's role model is physically contradicting the mother's words?

Yes, drug abuse is a growing problem in today's society. To address this issue, we must first recognize the fact that drugs are not glamorous and neither are the drug users. Secondly, we must enforce harsh penalties on the offenders, setting examples for prospective drug abusers. An action directed specifically towards athletes is unannounced drug testing, given periodically throughout the year, not just immediately before competition. Offenders should be suspended indefinitely from their respective sports.

Regretfully our society will probably never be fortunate enough to be totally drug-free, but with immediate action and cooperation among the people of our civilization, maybe future generations will live in a brighter world.