THE SILENT BOOMER MEDITATES TOO

The big question? Will meditation contribute to a man's goal to get someone other than himself to publish a book he writes?

Me Being Me...O yes!

Over the years, many times, I've tried to take up the practice of meditation, but my mind appears to be too nimble to let the silence catch it napping. A retreat counselor once called my computer "quicksilver" in a not too complimentary context. I'd been drinking, you see...back in the day. 

On my shelves sits a book entitled simply MEDITATION by Alan (you know who if you are my age) Watts. For awhile in Spokane, I went to the third floor of the Community Building on Main Street to meditate where a meditation room is open for drop-ins. I was able to sit quietly for up to 20 minutes. I tried to join a group, but the facilitator overwhelmed me in an unctuous tone with her desire to "help" me meditate. I have a problem with accepting help, don't you know?  

This go round I've invested 60 bucks to attend 6 sessions (I think) of meditation at Clark College for mature learners. Well...I'm old, I don't know how mature. Two questions for the readers of this blog. What will happen if I listen to the silence of the inner George? How does George look when he pretends to meditate? How come there's so much shouting in there?

IT'S NEVER TOO LATE, OLD DOG

I've had 11 years of editing and/or publishing literary magazines and microzines. I've had the yeah or nay over the works of some very fine writers in my time, yet I've s

Our microzine. This issue on orange paper.

till managed to learn a thing or two from my recent attendance at two writer groups. As you know, I recently translated a novel from mss to editable files. My goal, of course, is to entirely rewrite the novel, Delinquent Lives, and put it on Amazon as an ebook...if I don't land an agent.

When the Coffee House Writers Group [chwg] looked at the novel, several readers were bothered by a lack of clarity in the way I switched between the points of view of two characters which, actually, continues throughout the entire work. At first, I was too enamored at the clever way I was integrating the personalities of the two characters whose points of view dominate the novel, but I took my reader's advisement under consideration, and this morning I rewrote several sections to clarify the characters in relation to one another, and I'm damned happy with the result.

In the other group, SW WA/OR Write To Publish, they live by a silly rule about using the word "it". Can cost a man a quarter if he uses "it". I always think of bringing the opening of The Sound and The Fury to such a class and presenting it as my own work just to see how the rule makers would deal with Faulkner's writing. However, this morning as I sat down to my writing and began to look at the "it"s liberally sprinkled throughout my text, I began to eliminate some of them and to find other ways of expressing the pronouns. Imagine my pleasure to find I liked the changes. The changes added clarity and precision to the novel.I'll continue in that way from now on.

So...as you see, even a 75 year old writer with much experience can learn if he listens.

AN OLDER WRITER'S LAMENTATIONS

boscafelife.wordpress.com - 1177 × 789 - More sizes

One of many problems with being an older writer, besides drooling in my coffee cup, is...

I joined a writers group over in Portland, the chwg or Coffee House Writers Group. The format was ideal. Readers read from 3 to 5 pages, double-spaced, aloud and everyone could comment or not. Further, not everyone read each Saturday. I was impressed by the intelligence and brightness of that group, but after three meetings, I realized that I could only hear about 1/3 of what was being read and little of the comments. My frustration was complete and, disappointed, I had to withdraw to find a group which was more reliant on the typewritten page to work from. 

I've now found that in a Vancouver group, SW WA/OR Write To Publish, and I attended my first meeting today. Wonderful, I thought, but it has the noble ideal of letting every member's work be critiqued each Wednesday. After two hours my antsy self had to dance away, but I'll be more prepared next Wednesday to stick it out. There has to be an upper limit to the number that the group can accommodate comfortably, but time will tell. Trouble is I'm feeling a little guilty because I'm adding one more member to the number of writers whose work will be critiqued each Wednesday.

CHRIS LUNA, COVER TO COVER BOOKS & RUSSELL MICKLER

Have been hard at work rewriting the novel which was my thesis for the Masters Degree in English with an emphasis on Creative Writing at Eastern Washington University. I have a goal of publishing it as an ebook with Amazon. I've got so much to learn about that process, but I was much helped by that inexpensive and informative 9 hour course with Russel Mickler called Blogging and Self-publishing. Rewriting is stimulating and fills in when original creative inspiration is flagging so it's good to have lots of old work lying around. 

MY HERMITAGE

I'm looking forward to the next Ghost Town Poetry reading on the second Thursday in April, organized by Chris Luna at Cover To Cover books. He's a local powerhouse when it comes to generating and publicizing things of value to local poets. My interest in that next opportunity to read generated two new poems. Then I dug up some poetry that I wrote in the late 1980s while I was living like a hermit in a farmhouse outside of Cheney. I think I published one or two poems from that series, but I lost interest in them as being too narrative and not as metaphorical as I had come to think was the best kind of poetry I could produce. In looking them over again, my interest in them was rekindled and I spent all day today, working away at them and dusting them off. I can see a chapbook length production in them. I was genuinely happy working away at them. They inspirited me, and I believe it is one or two of them that I'll read next at Ghost Town Poetry.

YES...SOME MORE RECENT PUBLICATIONS!

If you want to check out my most recent short story publication which is quite some time back last year, find it at: http://workmagazinearchives.wordpress.com/back-issues/george-thomas-2272012/

Jose Ferrer my favorite Cyrano

Also, I've already mentioned the two poems that appeared in the March 2013 issue of The Vancouver Vector in Vancouver, Washington, but they don't seem to have a link to those poems that I can direct you too. I notice they do show links to everything that each of the various editors has written. Their editorial egos are obvious in that practice and by mentioning their oversight of my poetry in their archives, my ego is also revealed and brought into a duel with theirs for the title of "most swollen".

The Vector's editors might be forgiven their oversight as they are still fairly new at their business. Anyone involved over a long period of time in editing literary magazines and anthologies knows that since most things are published for free in that literary world, the least we could do (when I have been an editor) for our contributors was a short bio note or, at least, a mention of a recent publication. Newspaper people, unhappily, don't share that idea of common courtesy which has been made obvious by the Columbian and by the Vector in recent weeks as I plod my weary way toward a goal of publishing a book before the last of my brain cells wither away and I begin to drool without benefit of the fragrance of a fresh-from-the-oven Ragueneau pastry.

Ah, the ego of writers, specially those like myself who creep about on the edges of recognition and who finds in the slightest sneeze an insult. Cyrano would make much ado about my monstrously swollen nothingness. No doubt he would puncture it with his witty sword.

THE ANGST OF BECOMING KNOWN

Recently I submitted a piece of writing to a local paper. It was rejected. That's okay. Any writer gets used to that, but I had asked that if they used my piece would they please mention my blog and/or my publications at Amazon. The editor in an email said that the paper would not advertize my books or this blog if they ever did use a piece of writing by me. I have no argument with the editor, but a little recognition wouldn't hurt. 

What really bothers me about all of this is how I now feel SHAME that I should even have asked someone to give me a little help in my effort to sell a book before I die. It's my problem, of course, not that particular editor's, but I don't know how people can shamelessly advertize themselves or their work whereas I am unable to do it. I picture shame as partly genetic and it's a mechanism by which some of us monkeys hold back while others climb to the top of the heap.

My shame is difficult to deal with. I'm sure it's at the root of my hard drinking in the past. Why should anyone feel shame just because he wants to become known and sell a book? It certainly doesn't hold back the silver-back gorillas among us who do become known or rise to power. I also believe that shame is what causes some celebrities to act out so badly when they do achieve recognition. They feel they don't deserve it.

Perhaps I need to change the title of this blog to THE SHAMEFUL BOOMER!

THE SILENT BOOMER READS ALOUD!

Two sketches of Carl in Mobile Alabama

I moved forward another step in my goal tonight of pulling myself out of obscurity and cowardice, reading four poems from my self-published books at an open mic event on St. John's Road, hosted by newly appointed Clark County Poet Laureate Christopher Luna at Cover To Cover bookstore. Full house. Many readers and many good readers too. One young man, Matthew gave a spirited reading that entertained everyone. His first reading. 

I felt good about my performance and the poems I read. Let me repeat that the names of my two poetry books are Tenderfoot and Gray House By Cold Mountain and both are at Amazon.com or Authorhouse. I also summoned the courage to leave a packet of my two books, with a promotional letter and Silent Boomer business card in the afternoon at Cover To Cover books. Progress. First poem I read tonight follows:

EXPLORATION BY CANOE

The savages had left them.

By accident, by searching, hidden
in bushes, we found them—
canoes of animal skin.
Where water was stillest, we pushed in,
then worked out where it ran swiftest.
Someone had lost our maps—
by a not knowing, we got along.

This river we've not seen the end of

empties to a sea we've not tested,
a sea horizon we must think beyond—
over its edge another place to go or,
up, an endless black the stars gleam through
like small hopes we feel inside of us that say, 
Yes. Our boats are working out a long journey.
From this river, the sea's imagination away
and beyond that the endless black or…
over the edge in our animal skin canoes!

Thanks for reading!

SILENT BOOMER CROWS AND EATS SAUSAGE

Lohan via Huffpo via Getty

I've made a second step toward promoting myself. Most of my 75 year writing life, I've sat back, pouted, felt inferior and been jealous of everyone's success...even jealous of friends who win awards and make headway in this unrewarding business of writing while literacy declines all around us.

I sent an email to a local publication, pimping myself as a writer who ought to be interviewed. I listed all my worthiness to be interviewed. A veritable Lady Gaga of the written word. Or should that be Lindsay Lohan? Whichever. Doesn't Lindsay look a little beat up—the hazards of success?

PS: Found an interesting vegetarian sausage made by "Field Roast Grain Meat Co." Browned or grilled, its sausage-like texture is satisfying to both tooth and palate. My wife says they've too much oil in them. She's a real drill sergeant when it comes to diet. Damn it all to hell...she wants me to live!