Something about Inspiration

Earlier this week, a friend who is a painter wrote about being inspired by an exhibit of Picasso's work. Immediately, I gave thanks that I can recognize moments of artistic inspiration, some of which have translated into novels and short stories.

Just this morning, another painter who is a mentor and friend wrote, "When I am in the studio, all is well with the work."

In my experience, there is something about inspiration that cannot be denied.

Clouds and Change

Winds of change is a familiar metaphor.

Wind, as a noun, relates to speed applied to the movement of air. As a verb, it has a connotation of turning or spinning.

Change, as a verb and noun, indicates difference and transformation. As a noun only, change can represent coins left over after dollars have been broken.

During this morning's early, outdoor swim, I witnessed darkness giving way to light in a sky dominated by gray clouds promising a storm. Wind rearranged clouds as if they were puzzle pieces, implying that there might be some order or plan to all this obvious shifting. By the time it was fair to say that it was light outside, the clouds had all but disappeared and imminence of rain seemed to pause, perhaps at the mercy of second thoughts. The rain has arrived, gentle and sporadic at this moment. I cannot help but think of flipping coins, taking chances, and believing that good will prevail over its formidable opponent.

InneRhythms

I've worked in the publishing industry as a development editor, managing editor, and am still employed as a freelance indexer. When I was working in house at a company in Emeryville, I remember how a copy editor who I supervised hated intercaps. Up until that time, I had been neutral about the practice of imposing capital letters in the midst of lowercase. In coining the term, InneRhythms, I invoke the privilege of doing something in moderation to make a point.

The idea of inner rhythms came to me while exercising on my mini stair stepper earlier this week. I played a mystery CD and was thrilled by being in perfect sync with the first two tunes--Across the River by Vasquez and All One by Oscar Castor Nieves. Esperanto by Kurt Elling proved to be a perfect finale. That workout was a tremendous moment of clicking.

If there are InneRhythms, there must be a counterpart, right?

Audience Roundup

Audience: A group of listeners or spectators; a group of ardent admirers or devotees: following

Roundup: A gathering in of scattered persons or things

I was anxious to harness these reflections after this morning's constitutional swim at a local outdoor pool. In the process of writing this post in my head on the way home, I stopped at a produce market for apples--I believe in eating one a day. I realized that I didn't have my wallet with me and in the same breath felt in the pocket of a jacket that I wear on blustery days like this, and found enough change to buy some organic Fujis. While I was paying, the cashier asked me if I wanted some bananas. Immediately, I said, "No," and left the store. I returned and said, "Yes, I would like some bananas." When I purchased them, the cashier asked me if I wanted some organic oranges. This woman whom I was seeing for the first time had succeeded in making me her audience. How did she do it? She captured my attention.

I've just finished self-publishing my third book, Painted Deserts. My first novel, Tanner Blue, has won national and international awards. My second book, Music for the Dream--Seven Short Stories, was a finalist for an international award. I'm grateful to those who find value in my writing because I sure do love to write!

I live in a field of dreams, firmly believing that "The people will come," as a simple matter of faith and trust. It is out of my hands to determine the "when" or "how" of my audience being rallied. All I can do is keep casting out the lassos, book by heartfelt book.

The Successful Writer

Happy Valentines' Day!
Writers--what does success mean to you? Is it enough to simply sell lots of books, or is it more important to develop a devoted audience that eagerly awaits your next work? While the two can coexist quite symbiotically, I often wonder how many sold books actually get read. I hope to inspire positive, critical thinking as part of this intricate process.

Sag Harbor by Colson Whitehead

Recently, Colson Whitehead's name came up in a conversation with my editor. We were talking about genre and I realized that Sag Harbor was the only book that he has written that I had not read. I can no longer say that and my life feels richer as a result.

Sag Harbor is an energetic blend of philosophy, psychology, and brilliant entertainment. Each hapless characters is distinct, well drawn, and sympathetic. This novel provides a satisfying answer to the question, "What is literary voice?"

Benji--I mean, Ben--is the reader's tour guide. He is an eloquent escort around the black bourgeois enclave of Sag Harbor, which neighbors the Hamptons, under two hours outside of New York City. Ben is a reticent and awkward teenager who is persistently at odds with his thoughts and those who surround him. As the story develops, it is easy to understand his hangups by piecing together the details that explain his estrangement from his parents and his sister as he and his "twin brother," Reggie, begin to grow apart.

The only other thing I'll say is pick up this book and get comfortable with it. You just might find it impossible to put down.

In the Falling Snow by Caryl Phillips

As a writer with very particular tastes in what I read, dissecting the work of others is an occupational hazard. Let me preface my review by saying three things. First, I found Phillips' latest novel to be entirely satisfying and complex. Second, I pay close attention to the significance of titles and found this one to be particularly poignant. Third, the comments that follow reveal key aspects of the story, so please stop here, for now, if you are yet to read this book and wish to discover all of these details on your own.

The nonlinear structure of this story has the effect of mirroring one’s thought process. It is a perfect vehicle for sharpening focus on the life of Keith Gordon as the story of his life unfolds. Keith is the child of West Indian immigrants who succumbed to the lure of England as a better way of life. Keith is a successful social worker whose journey involves eroding the borders that he has placed around his emotions. These limitations lead to a divorce instigated by his response to midlife crisis, in the form of a fling with a younger woman named, Yvette, who just happens to report to him at work. The other partner in the divorce is his wife, Annabelle, who is also the mother of their rebellious son, Laurie.

At the beginning of this novel, one of the biggest story questions is what causes Keith to be so detached from everyone he meets. Many of his actions are illogical, which serve to validate the extent of his being at odds with his own process of aging. Perhaps the greatest example of this behavior is his infatuation with Danuta, a young Polish woman, who he meets at a library while doing research for a book about African American musicians.

Keith’s indiscretion with Yvette causes him to be suspended from his job. As he loses interest in reclaiming it, it seems that his instincts might have told him that his life was about to change to a very great degree. Unsure what to do with himself while not working in his office, he ventures north to see his father from whom he has always been estranged. Before long, his father becomes gravely ill and reveals the story of his life to Keith in extended streams of consciousness that are entirely compelling.

Phillips has written a masterpiece that adds handsomely to his body of work on the subject of diaspora, characteristically dealing with the intricacies of race with tremendous skill. As an exemplary study of character motivations, In the Falling Snow convincingly addresses the big-picture themes of midlife emotions and behaviors; adolescence; race; work/life purpose/artistic pursuits; responsiblity; dreams and aspirations; and above all family, in the splendor of its considerable imperfections. This contemplative novel leaves the reader with the feeling that each character does the best that they can, given their respective circumstances, which renders them entirely sympathetic.