Author: darin

All the stuff what I like.

Influential VII

darin

By this point I can forego the lengthy introduction of this series of posts. You get it. If not, look through older posts and you’ll discover a pattern. You’re sharp, that way. In no particular order, here is–

Post Seven of Ten

It was the size of a suitcase. Dad somehow managed to get it wedged into the car–between whichever of his kids happened to be fortunate enough to straddle it the next few hours down the road. It was an honor you wanted to decline but couldn’t.

the box

This edition of most influential albums from my childhood and youth takes us way back. This window in my lifetime encompasses just about the entire decade of the seventies. My dad’s prized musical possession was a set of twelve 8-track tapes: Classic Country Gold. 

I’ll just put this out there: I’m not a fan of country music. Every now and then I’ve heard a country song or artist that caught my fancy … for a moment. Then, gone. Over it. Thankfully. But this recollection is of how Dad’s Classic Country Gold collection left an indelible impression on my heart and my storytelling/writing life.

iuCountry music–like no other genre–is story.

So Dad’s set–these dozen 8-tracks, in their suitcase, taking up a whole seat in the car–was the soundtrack of every road trip and vacation I (we–all us kids) took with Mom and Dad in our growin’ years. The storytelling cowboys, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, Hank Williams; the outlaws Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, George Jones; the country crooners, Eddie Arnold, Roger Miller, Marty Robbins; and the original dixie chicks Patsy Cline, Tammy Wynette, Loretta Lynn–they, and dozens of other classic country singer/songwriters covering the decades of the 40s, 50s, 60s and early 70s serenaded us, non-stop.

What an impression these artists and their stories made on me! And it was pure country gold–

Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means, king of the road.

And gritty with reality–

I was born one mornin’ when the sun didn’t shine
i picked up my shovel and i walked to the mine
i loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal
and the straw boss said “well, a-bless my soul”
you load sixteen tons, what do you get?
another day older and deeper in debt
saint peter don’t you call me ’cause i can’t go
i owe my soul to the company store

Occasionally drawing a pre-adolescent giggle–

Hey, hey, good lookin’,
Whatcha got cookin’?
How’s about cookin’ somethin’ up with me?
Hey, sweet baby,
Don’t you think maybe
We could find us a brand new recipe?

Here’s the connection: All those long car rides spent listening to Dad’s Classic Country Gold AND MORE SPECIFICALLY the stories those old guitar pickin’ cow-folk shared enlarged my imagination. I found myself in their tales. They were the unplanned soundtrack to much of my imagination’s formative years. These are songs and artists I haven’t listened to in four decades, but I bet you I could sing along with any one of them, still.

One more thing. Have you ever had that experience where a song comes on the radio and immediately transports you back to a time and place long ago? These old country songs take me back to vacations. I hear them and I remember stopping with my family at rest-stops, picnic lunches by the side of the road, camping, swimming, swinging on rope swings … oh, and straddling the big ol’ honking 8-track suitcase.

All the stuff what I like.

Influential VI

darin

If you’re just dropping by, you’ve stumbled upon a series of posts–the ten most influential albums in my life (in no particular order). As a writer, I’ve realized music has played a pretty key role in my appreciation of storytelling and wordsmithing. Of course I’ve also dug this trip down memory lane, remembering the songs, the bands, and the many memories connected with listening to these records.

Nothing better to do? Take a trip down memory lane with me: Chicago, Boston, Elton John, Seals and Crofts, and Petra thus far.

Post Six of Ten

Think back. There are moments in every life where one thing, one encounter, one occasion alters your course so significantly you’d say it was ‘life-changing.’ This record … was all that for me.

It was 1976. I lived in Central Florida. There were two popular stations on local radio. Every kid–as far as I knew–faced a choice: Do you grow up listening to pop station BJ-105 or rock-n-roll’s Rock-100? Think of it like this: Village People or Led Zeppelin? BeeGees or Thin Lizzy? KC and the Sunshine Band or Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band?

At the moment I became aware of this most important choice–would I pop or would I rock?–my own personal album collection included (don’t snicker at me, dude!) Neil Sedaka, John Denver and … yes, some Village People and BeeGees records. I was perilously close to breaking the pop direction! Then … this happened.

I was sleeping over at a friend’s house when he pulled out a new record he’d just gotten for his birthday–

Destroyer by KISS kiss

The facepaint. The outfits. The shoes. The music. The stories. What the heck was this?!?!

“And that guy right there,” my friend Bobby said, pointing at the demon-looking guy on the right, “he spits blood!” Well, at eight years old, faced with a choice–dudes who dress like construction workers and cops and cowboys and Indians and sing about all the fun you can have at a YMCA versus a leathered up band, boots with teeth, demon-painted creatures who spit fire and blood and sing God of Thunder … game changer.

Buried the Village People and Neil Sedaka deep in a drawer. Bought KISS Destroyer. Then KISS Alive. Then KISS Alive II. My pop collection went to sleep. My rock collection came to life.

KISS saved me from a lifetime of pop music. Can you imagine if I’d grown up listening to Madonna instead of the Boss? Egads!

(By way of full confession, I am finding a it a lot of fun to listen to throwback seventies and eighties radio these days, and do smile often to hear some of that old pop music too. What an era! Anyhow …)

Story and influence on the storyteller in me, that’s why I’m posting these musings–

The album started with Detroit Rock City. Story of a wild life ending in a flaming car-crash, complete with sound effects. Captured my young imagination. Taught me, too. Watch your speed, kiddos! Don’t drink and drive, kiddos! Shout It Out Loud was a rebellion anthem. Flaming Youth were the kids leading the rebellion–and I wanted to be one of them. (May have joined the KISS Army Fan Club after hearing these tunes.) And of course, who could resist the painful love story cat-faced drummer Peter Criss pined … Beth?

Beth, I hear you calling
But I can’t come home right now
Me and the boys are playing
And we just can’t find the sound
Just a few more hours
And I’ll be right home to you
I think I hear them calling
Oh Beth, what can I do?
Beth, what can I do?

One other memory concerning KISS. There came a day when, as a brand new Jesus Freak, some guy at church told me KISS was “secular music” and “God doesn’t approve.” He suggested I trash my KISS records. To punctuate his point he added, “I’ve heard KISS stands for ‘Knights in Satan’s Service'” and that blood-spitting guy is a Satanist.” 

I was like, “No … he’s Jewish. And it’s art.”  

The rest-of-the-story: KISS was all the rage for me between the ages of say nine and twelve. By my teen years–and the discovery of girls–KISS sort of fell off my radar, replaced by Journey, Foreigner and Def Leppard on Rock 100. I’m just so very grateful it wasn’t  Devo and the B-52s on BJ-105.

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Words on Page

darin

Very early in my writing endeavors, I learned two acronyms to frame the writing life–B.I.C. and W.O.P.

B.I.C. stands for butt-in-chair. W.O.P. stands for words-on-page.

You’ve heard the old adage, writers write. And if you’ve ever attempted to be a writer you also know how hard it is to (1) carve time out to sit down and (2) actually accumulate words on a page. I’m intending to compose a few posts here, sharing strategies that have worked (and maybe even a few that haven’t worked) for me in achieving B.I.C. and W.O.P.

W.O.P. first. IMG_0890

A key strategy for me in getting words-on-page is to be intentional about scheduling time. A few years ago I began setting writing windows into my schedule, like appointments. Tuesday and Thursday, late afternoons, for instance. My wife has a regularly scheduled commitment those afternoons. I’ve carved that time out. Weekend mornings–before anyone in the house is really up and moving. I carved that time out. And voila! There I have between ten and twelve hours a week set aside specifically to work on my manuscripts.

A second key strategy, then, needed to be employed–being intentional about a words-per-day target. I found–as I’m sure you’ve discovered–just setting aside time to write doesn’t necessarily add up in word count. I’ve lost many a writing hour staring at a blank sheet, thinking about what I want to write. You know the drill–write a few sentences. Read it and conclude, ‘That sucks!’ and hit the delete key … watching your cursor reverse itself, gobbling up your words right back to left. Gone.

And repeat.

You’ve been there, yes? I imposed a words-per-session target for myself. Each of us will be different–you know how quickly you create. For me, I aim for a minimum of 1500 words a session. And then, in the back of my mind, I aim to double it! I’ll be satisfied at 1500. I’ll be downright giddy to hit 3000. And, on occasion, I might reward myself–‘Hit 4000 words and (morning) stop into Union for an Americano!’ If it’s an afternoon … make that a beer! Evening … glass of wine (yes, I am cultured!). Oh, when it comes to words-on-page, I am not above rewards-seeking!

Let me encourage you–just put words on page. That’s the most important first step in writing. I’ve wasted so many hours thinking, rethinking, evaluating, editing–crumpling up pages and tossing them in the direction of a waste basket. Save that stuff for a later date. If you’re writing a book–get the initial draft done, ugly as it is. Then refine it. Or perhaps, make a strategy for forward progress: ‘I’ll get 10,000 words down and then I’ll spend a few sessions refining that before I move on to the next 10,000.” 

And if you’re cultured like me … at 10,000 words refine a bit AND THEN make that wine a bottle of Bully Hill Winery’s Love My Goat! 

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Wisdom for Writers

darin

Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose track of the 400 pages and write just one page for each day, it helps. Then when it gets finished, you are always surprised. –John Steinbeck

Tip #1 of Six Tips on Writing from John Steinbeck