Death of an Inspiration

Mike Wallace – Journalist

Being a journalist, the death of Mike Wallace was a significant loss in my world. Of course, Mike Wallace being who he was, he had a significant impact on the ENTIRE world, for most of his 60 years in the business.

But one day earlier, in a small town, another gifted man died. The “Painter of Light” and author of inspirational books, overdosed on prescription drugs chased with alcohol alone in his home in California.

In this world, a hard, rough and tumble place of immeasurable beauty that’s occupied by beings capable of unspeakable cruelty, two men saw it with different eyes and gifts. One took it for what it was and allowed us to see it that way, too. The other wanted us to see the beauty that God created and not the dangerous, dark, and disreputable side that he knew was there.

Thomas Kincaid, like many treasured artists, was ridiculed by the “experts” and wounded somewhere in his spirit in a way that he could not allow to heal. The light God gave him went out and maybe that’s why he was so passionate about capturing it on canvas. Was he looking for it? Hoping to create so much in the world that his spirit would find its own again?

Mike Wallace, like the reporters of integrity before him, didn’t appear to much care about what anyone else thought. He exposed the dark side so we could see it in the light. He pursued the unvarnished truth of things and landed his verbal blows with an accuracy that reporters still critique with envy. His interviews indicate that by the time he retired in 2006, he had no illusions regarding the world or himself.

But both men wrestled with depression. Kinkade battled his darkness with alcohol and as one might predict, the alcohol bought him no light. Wallace also experienced some years of depression that he fought with the help of professionals and some medications. He kept his dark time a secret from the public so he wasn’t perceived “weak” or “vulnerable.” It would seem that the demands Wallace put on himself far exceeded those of his colleagues, family, or his Creator.

Mike Wallace, dead at age 93, a man who found peace with his regrets, eventually admitted his weaknesses, and was highly regarded by people around the world for his dogged determination to reveal truth no matter how uncomfortable it might be.

Thomas Kinkade, dead at age 54, a man who brought light to the world with his paintings and writing, who was loved by many not only for the peace that his artwork instilled, but for the hope he seemed to stand for in our world.

Two guiding lights extinguished in the same week. I’m not going to sugar coat it. I’m sad at the loss of them both.  And I’m glad that I’m a journalist and can’t paint worth a darn. There are days when the world looks really dark, but when we stare the truth in the eyes and stick together, we create our own light.

Until next time – I wish you all light.

Dorian

The High Cost of Writing

Wow! I really hope you’re following Pinch Hitter!  I had Sirius radio in my Ford for a while and they played radio programs like, The Shadow, The Phantom, and even Superman. I started scheduling my late story nights so I was driving and could listen to the next episode. Now, I have Kenny Black!!!  Can’t wait until next week!

Being that it’s April, I’ve just completed my taxes and hence, the title of my musings today. I made money again this year with my writing and that’s a wonderful thing! I’m blessed to make enough money with writing that I qualify to even file a tax return and that fact isn’t lost on me. It tops my daily “Thank You ” list every morning.

My CPA pointed out that I’d spent a lot more on the auto expenses and conferences in 2011 over the previous year. I pointed out that fuel has increased by 22% during that time and so have conference costs. He nodded and said, “What the heck has not gone up in the past year?” (Including his fee, by the way…)

 That got me to thinking…

This list, though it may be short, includes things that have not gone up:

The number of dates I’ve had

My contract payment rate (per page/per word/per article)

The number of paid writing outlets (media’s shifting daily, it seems)

The number of vacation days I’ve actually spent vacating (I usually spend them working at the condo)

The number of rejections for my latest novel (read on!)

That last item might make you think, “Well, that’s a good thing!” And, if I’d incresaed the number of submissions over the prior year, it would be, but alas, I submitted to very few publisher/agents in 2011.

So, the point is that if you plan to make money writing, you must submit. A lot. And if you don’t submit, then the high cost of writing isn’t about ink cartridges and mileage expenses, it’s about missed opportunities.   

Keep writing – AND submitting. Don’t miss out on YOUR opportunities!

Dorian

www.themethodwriters.com

 

 

 

Cat House

Hello, everyone!!!  Had a great time in New Orleans, but glad to be back home here in Daytona Beach, even though it’s Bike Week.

Or, maybe it’s great to be back, because of Bike Week.  This and the 500 ARE Daytona. This rolling, rumbling, colorful festival of humanity is entertaining for the most part. The bikers are from all walks of life. Men and women from around the world descend on Daytona and surrounding areas to eat, drink and be merry. Vivid tattoos pale in comparison to the designs on the bikes and I find myself staring on occasion at the places that some folks will pierce, though that does not just apply to those who ride motorcycles. Hotels and hospitals alike are jammed to the rafters during our March madness.

Anyway, I did quite a bit of writing while visiting my parents and I’m delighted to announce that our short story collection FICTICIOUS FICTION will be available to readers very soon. And, I brought back a roommate.  She’s feisty and talks more than a two-year-old on Dr. Pepper. Her name is Harley, but she doesn’t appear to be particularly fond of motorcycles. Actually, as I’m writing this, she’s situated at the top of a “tree” in my living room, looking extremely annoyed at all the noise roaring up and down the boulevard.

Harley Ann, like me, was an orphan. Mom said she was found sleeping under a Harley in the New Orleans impound yard. Unlike me, Harley’s absolutely beautiful and has the disposition of a nesting gator.  My mother worries because I live alone. And somehow, she thinks that this gorgeous long-haired cat with the terrible disposition is going to be good for my mental health.

I have to say, that somewhere out on Alligator Alley I discovered that she was more hiss and spit than mean. Though she swiped at me with those big furry paws, she never put out her claws. And when I pet her soft fur, she began to talk up a storm. I’d ask a question and she’d answer me. And when I put on a CD and started to sing along, I noticed she was singing, too.  If I tell the truth, she is sort of entertaining.

So, now the Method Writers all have someone special in their lives. (Besides each other, that is.)  Marty has his little Anna. And David has that beautiful Kaybee. Georgie Mae has charming Boo Radley (and Joe, of course) and now I too, have a room-mate.

Somehow I suspect that I’ll end up being the room-mate. And the cat will have the run of the house…

Catch you in a couple of weeks.  Stay safe out there!

Dorian

 

 

SMART-ALEC PHONES

Dorian has deserted us for a couple of weeks to go visit with her parents in New Orleans. So, she asked me to cover for her and here I am.  I’ve dabbled in novel-writing, am accomplished in short story writing and enjoy writing articles,  but thought I’d share my latest column with you in hopes you can relate–Nancy Q.

At the urging (constant urging is more accurate) of my spouse, I’ve retired my duct-taped, red, Nokia phone with the 500-minute plan for a Samsung Infuse that is smarter than I am and costs twice as much per month as the old one since it requires data plans and message plans and all sorts of things my simple flip-and-dial did not. It’s also not nearly so convenient to carry. No pockets for this thing, it requires Samsonite luggage of its own.

In the first two minutes of use, I reached out and touched someone in a country I can’t pronounce and I was just trying to turn it on. I thought if I could find my daughter’s number in my contacts, she could tell me how to use the darned thing, especially since she really IS smarter than I am about these things. I’m a read-the-manual type person, but phones no longer come with manuals, they come with web addresses for forty-minute tutorials. Who has forty whole minutes?

Although I followed the colorful QUICK START page, my phone was not activated, so I called the number provided. That produced some good and not so good results. The phone, after fifteen minutes of “please hold while I check this,” was finally activated and told me so via a free text message that made it jump off the desk and onto the floor. Good thing I’d bought that pretty blue protective cover.

But the phone company could not explain what had happened to more than two thousand roll over minutes, though they could see that we had minutes rolling over at one time, we just don’t have them now.  I kept asking where they’d gone and the answer was, “you don’t have them anymore.” The young lady assisting me pointed out that since I didn’t have roll over minutes anymore, the plan I had for the old phones would certainly not be enough so I added some more minutes. And some more costs.

Not to be bested by something this size,  I have figured out how to place a call, find a number in my contacts, and sometimes even end a call successfully. It has Wi-Fi built-in, but I’m terrified I’ll end up with a million dollar phone bill because my Wi-Fi went roaming, so I turn the phone off completely when I’m not using it. Now I don’t get my calls at all. Not entirely a bad thing, though.

My emails ding when the phone is on, but I can’t answer them because when I type a reply on that teeny-tiny keyboard, my smart phone changes what I type into something else that is either not fit for print or is total gibberish. “I’ll be there” turned into “I behemoth.” Just what I need–a smart-alec phone: a teeny-tiny computerized wise guy.

If I’m unfortunate enough to be retyping the gibberish when an incoming call occurs, it’s all over. The email disappears and the phone call shows up. And, one must understand that you can’t press the “accept” button on the screen, one must SWIPE the button to the right. I’m not sure what happens if one swipes left. When I tried that on a call that was not complicated by an email, my right index finger tapped the power button and the call went away.

I’m not so old I can’t learn this. And I’ve decided to look at that forty minute video as an investment in my future. I’ll pour a glass of wine, cut up some cheese and then sit back and learn how to use my smart-alec phone. If that fails, I’ll ask Dorian to tutor me.

And then I’ll start tracking down what happened to my roll over minutes. They have to be around here somewhere.

DISCOVERIES…

I’ve just turned thirty. I’m college educated, a journalist with the good fortune to not only enjoy what I do, but to make a living at it. And, while video chatting with my writing group I realized to my great relief, that I’m still experiencing “ah-ha” moments.
For instance, Marty’s daughter Annabelle is a child who finds delight in everything. She squeals with delight when I click the remote control and make flames dance in the “fireplace” in my apartment. Just the memory of the sound of her gleeful laughter still makes me smile. I don’t have any kids, but Marty shares Annabelle with me from time to time and I’ve discovered for myself why he’s so crazy about being with that kid. I’m less fond of “why” than her laughter, but we have to take the good with the trying.
And Kenny Black, David’s alter-ego has turned out not to be all bad, though I don’t ever want to be on his bad side, that’s for sure. I’m trained to observe people and not make judgments so I can see the whole story, but with Black, that’s been difficult for me. However, I’ve rediscovered that it is folly to judge a book by its cover. Or in this case, the character in a book by his language and attitude.
And Georgie Mae’s unending list of talents never cease to amaze me. Artist, photographer, talented writer, I’d discovered that just letting that young lady go to town with whatever’s in her heart at the time produces the greatest results!
And of course, there’s Marty himself. A man who’s transformed from tired business man to delighted father at the mention of his daughter’s name. He’s helped me to discover that nothing is more important than being committed to those we love.
Maybe being a writer, whether it involves marketing copy or a novel, is really just about those discoveries we make along the way. And maybe that’s why I’m just so totally delighted that our novel The Method Writers is so close to being published and released!
I can’t wait for all of you to discover things for yourself as you read THE METHOD WRITERS!

Stay safe out there,
Dorian

P.S. For a great offer, visit MethodWriters.com website today!

Themes, Continued…

Bridget, this is so cool. Last week I too, recognized a theme running through everything I came across. For me, it was LISTENING. And, I think listening is a big part of writing.

What is really neat, is that one can learn SO much from listening. Like a child hearing his own words read to him; or a friend  venting after a stressful day and needing to be heard, what we hear, we learn from.

I think the world would be in better shape if we all spent more time listening. To nature, to what’s right in our hearts, to each other. And I mean, really, REALLY listen. Not listen just to have the right thing to say when the speaker is done talking, but to hear every word, every emotion, every fear, every joy. To be truly present to every word. A writer who notices all the pauses, nuances, inflections, dialects will write the most awesome dialog ever written.

I put the word “LISTEN” on a sticky note and fastened it to my computer monitor to remind myself to stop and listen for all I was worth at every opportunity.

On Sunday I sat back to give some thought to what I’d learned by changing how I listen to the world around me and realized my week had been richer, brighter, more powerful than before. I heard an owl calling to a mate on Monday night when I stood on the back porch for a few minutes before going to bed. I heard the pain and fear in a friend’s voice when she called to tell me her mother needed brain surgery; I felt the joy of a coworker when she spoke words of forgiveness and surrender about an ugly work situation. In a subtle, yet powerful way, my world shifted. It feels a little more balanced, somehow.

And, I heard the delight in my grandson’s words when he called to tell me how much he enjoyed the “talking” book sent to him for Christmas.

Yes, Bridget, I’m with you.  There is magic in them, there words…..

Nancy Q.

 

IT’S ALL IN THE MOTIVATION

For a  journalist, humorist, essayist, and probably more than a few lobbyists, nothing provides more fodder for commentary or jokes than the presidential elections. People who pushed each other under every bus they could find just weeks ago are suddenly “credible” supporters for the survivor after throwing in the towel on their own bid for the toughest job in the world.
This is all well and good unless you are a voter in this great nation who’s seeking a leader with integrity. But then, would someone with real integrity even want to be the president? I’m not talking male or female, here; I’m talking about an intelligent, educated, service-minded, morally courageous person.

Why would anyone want to be President? To be a target? To expose self and family to the hardiest mud-slinging contest in the world? To be second-guessed and ridiculed and featured on Leno and Letterman’s Top 10 Baffoon lists?
I’ve got a good friend who is the woman I want to be when I grow up. She’s not perfect, but her integrity is solid and her commitment to God, family, friends, her students, and her community is so strong that she juggles church, husband and daughter, teaching full time and serving as a town council-woman seemingly without effort.
When she announced in a hoarse and exhausted voice this past summer that she was running for reelection, I should have said, “Good for you and good luck!” but instead, I said, “Why in the world are you doing that? Have you lost your mind? Your fellow committee persons have spread horrible rumors, told lies about you to the newspapers, sniped at you in and out of session and you still want to play in that cesspool?”  She chuckled a while and then simply replied, “There’s more to do.”

I want to protect her from the filth that I see in politics. She wants to contribute courage, morality, and integrity to a world that has a hard time supporting those things. She’s doing it for her daughter and all daughters. She’s doing it because she believes that every kindness, every compassionate decision, every chance to reach out and make things better is like a pebble in a pool; even a small splash creates a ripple that goes on and on until it has touched every blade of grass along the shore.
I think that the men who signed our Constitution of the United States had those qualities in mind for our leaders; people who, for a term or two, dedicate themselves to serving an entire body of people with a passion to make life better. Be it in a town, a county, a state, or Washington, D.C.
So, because this honorable woman who will never be Prime Minister of England or Secretary of State for the USA is in essence, a politician, I am willing to believe there are others like her. Some might even be in Congress or the Senate already.  And I’ll believe there must be a fine someone running for President who is humble, that has integrity, courage and the desire to serve the people for just a term or two.  After all, just like in a good novel, it’s all about the motivation.

Be well and don’t forget to exercise your right to vote! Your country needs you!

Dorian

Stranger than Fiction…

While Jeff and Nancy have been out speaking to writers, Mike has been working hard at Clear View Press, Inc. And not be outdone, Bridget has just broken through to the publishing realm herself!

So while the Rogues writers have been busy, so have we. Georgie Mae, David, Marty and I have written our own little mini-book, guaranteed to delight the reader in you!!  We’ve talked Mike into publishing it for us. At 2 stories each, for a max of 2500 words per author, we decided to stretch ourselves and create an “appetizer” of sorts for you.  So, sometime this month, you’ll be able to buy a taste of our writing styles. Stay tuned for the details!

If you enjoy Poe, Hemmingway, Serling or Hitchcock, you’ll really enjoy these tidbits!

All of this is leading up to, of course, the 2012 launch of our novel, or rather, the Rogues’ novel, The Method Writers.

See you next week – and be safe out there!

Dorian

Things a Baby Taught Me…

This little fella was hanging on the railing one night when I thought I’d just sit outside and enjoy the quiet of midnight. Well, I didn’t know he was there at first; when I realized he was, I nearly fainted.

But, in keeping with my pre-New Year resolution to go with the flow of life more and worry about the bumps a bit less (and since he wasn’t moving in my direction) I sat back down in the chair and decided to share the stary night with him. (Yes, could be a her, I have NO idea. I got no answer when I asked that question.)

I realized later that my little partly-furry friend had made some very elegent points, though narry a communication was shared:

• When scared, running may not be an option. Just hang in there. This too shall pass…
• When new creatures and experiences show up, observe all you can. You might learn something you didn’t know you didn’t know…
• Hair is overrated. You CAN be quite cute without it…
• Ugly, or pretty for that matter, is in the eye of the beholder…
• Possums do not stink…
• If you sit still enough long enough, the crazy lady who talks like a two-year old WILL go back into her home and leave you be…

So open up your hearts, minds and arms and embrace all of life in 2012. Despite appearances, things are under control. All you need is to be quiet, stay strong in your faith, and exercise a boatload of patience!

Happy New Year!!

Dorian

 

 

Merry Christmas and all that stuff…

Sorry, Marty – and everyone else!! Deadlines and holiday preparations just stole the last two weeks away from me! And, being Christmas Day, this will be short and sweet. Georgie Mae and Joe are joining me for dinner, though I’m sure the Duffy’s are disappointed GM won’t be with them – she’s like a daughter to that old couple!

I’ve spent the past four weeks searching for the perfect Christmas spirit story. And I had a really hard time of it.

You’re probably thinking, well, that’s because there’s so much bad news. But, that’s not what I mean.

I had a hard time PICKING the best Christmas spirit story and the hard times make the stories more poignant.

Like the young woman forced to flee her abusive home two days before Christmas, only to delivery her baby girl on Christmas morning among kind-hearted strangers; or the homeless man who found a shopping bag on the side of the road that contained almost $500 and what were probably Christmas gifts, and went to great lengths to get it back to the owner – intact. Or the children with nothing of their own, who gave away the gifts given to them by well-meaning neighbors, to those who had even less.

The stories are heartwarming and hopeful and they don’t just happen at Christmas time any more. Hardship not only makes us stronger and more humble, it makes us more generous and genuinely concerned for others.

Sort of like what Christ tried to show us maybe….

May your new year be full of blessings and peace. And whatever your holiday, hoping that brings joy and meaning to your life.

Dorian