THE STORY SO FAR: PART 204

MY STEP-FATHER, ALFRED LYONS—A TRULY MARVELOUS MAN WHO HAD A PROFOUND AND POSITIVE INFLUENCE ON MY LIFE

I have written about Alfred before but, for some reason, couldn’t lay my hands on this photo—my favorite one of him. To be precise, I had it on the computer, but it refused to cut and paste—computers can be obstinate sometimes. Then my sister, Lucy, came up with a version—and here it is.

I was about eight when I heard my mother was getting married again. I took to Alfred immediately and, as the eldest child, made the decision to call him “Daddy” rather than by his name. This was something that I hoped he would appreciate—and I was to learn, over many years, that he did. We became very close.

I had never known my own father so rather the liked idea of having one—someone I could talk to, learn from, and love. In fact, Alfred never quite became a father. Somehow, he stepped back from the role--even where his own children were concerned. My mother was too strong-willed and dominant—and she controlled the money—so Alfred, who was ten years her junior, became more like an extraordinarily talented big brother. He was witty, intelligent, widely read, hugely entertaining—and could seemingly do just about anything. He was an accomplished artist, he had an eye for antiques, he drove superbly, he knew a great deal about the theatre, he was a delightful dinner companion—and so it went for a very long list. He was a deeply cultured man. Did his talent extend to business? Though he certainly understood business, and was tasked with looking after the family money for quite some time,  I suspect not. Fundamentally, Alfred had an artistic temperament.

Women adored him—which did not please my mother. My girlfriends also adored him which did not exactly please me. However, he was such fun that it was hard to take offense—even when he flirted outrageously.

For more than a decade he was a positive influence at home—and then the relationship broke him, as I feared it must.

He died far too young under decidedly unhappy circumstances—and I was absolutely devastated. I found it near impossible to imagine that all that humor, talent and energy was just gone. I was living in my thatched Irish cottage at the time, and recall going into into shock.

I adored and admired the man, and feel fortunate to have known him—albeit for such a relatively short time. I don’t think I have ever met anyone else who encompassed all his talents. Was he flawed? Of course—he was human—and his wit could sometimes be cruel; but the good far outweighed the bad.

One should be able to take death in one’s stride. It is both natural and certain. Nonetheless, I have never been able to become entirely reconciled to the deaths of either my grandmother or Alfred—and the sight of his photo makes my heart ache. Such a loss; such a waste; such a tragedy.

Then I remember the good times—and there were so many—and have to smile. Above all, I associate Alfred with laughter.

 

THE STORY SO FAR: PART 176

“MARCH OR DIE”—OR DO I MEAN “WRITE?”

JUST REMEMBER: IT MAY WELL BE A LONG MARCH

My beautiful sister Lucy’s web site has once again produced an admirable graphic. She must be telepathic.

Sometimes I think that everybody can write, but what stops most people is the amount of stamina required. We are talking years, at best, and probably longer. Of course my comment about everybody being able to write is not true—a great many people can scarcely construct a coherent paragraph, let alone write a 400 page book, but I am just saying it to emphasize that making a living from writing requires more endurance than you can imagine. And the number of people who believe in you may shrink to a frighteningly small total. The good news is that all you need is one. The bad news is that you may not have even that—unless, and until, you are financially successful. Becoming a good writer, in the critical sense, does not cut it because we—such value being part of our current cultural norms--are conditioned to regard financial success as the only determinant. True, it is important and useful—but, it is not, and should not be, the sole standard by which we judge achievement.

People will support almost anyone doing anything for a limited time—frequently without understanding it—but they get very exasperated when months stretch into years; and their support evaporates and tends to be replaced by frustration, irritation and anger.

Why so? Because most of us live corporate or government manipulated, structured lives which are divided into predictable bite-sized bits within the context of short time frames. Pay is generally predictable—as long as you have a job, which you can lose if you step out of line—and comes every couple of weeks or every month. Accordingly someone who is prepared to wait for years for an uncertain payoff is considered both irresponsible and arguably insane. And he or she is certainly different—and different is not considered to be good. People are uncomfortable around you. They wonder what you do all day—suspect it has to be something dubious—and marginalize you. If nothing else, you are the antithesis of the corporate/government mindset—so your very existence threatens the status quo. You really need to be put down—literally, metaphorically; or both..

Welcome to my writer’s world. Is it worth it? Many would think not. I can’t think of anything more invigorating. Do I mind the setbacks, the judgmental attitudes, the negative comments and the criticism?

What I mind is irrelevant. I just know I have got to continue. I guess, if we were talking about religion, we would call that faith—and perhaps it is.

My heart goes out to my fellow struggling writers—and all writers, whether successful or not, struggle. Hang in there! You may have no immediate support, but you are not alone. I doubt you give a damn. You have writing.

 

THE STORY SO FAR: PART 175

HOW LIGHT CAN A WRITER TRAVEL?

I’m completing my packing, and moving shortly, so my daily blogs are likely to be shorter than normal—and there maybe some gaps. But, I’ll fill them in later. I’m dedicated to achieving a blog a day until I have completed a year. Then, I’ll take a fresh look at the situation.

I have made a lot of progress at moving with less stuff, but am far from the ideal as yet.

Theoretically, all a writer needs this days are a few clothes and a computer—but the reality tends to be different—at least in my case.

I’m working in it.

 

THE STORY SO FAR: PART 163.

THAT EVER ELUSIVE GOAL—SUCCESS.

A TRIBUTE TO A FASCINATING WEB SITE, BRAIN PICKINGS.

Once a week, each and every week, the web site Brain Pickings—run primarily by the redoubtable Maria Popova-- comes up with a fascinating mix of comments and quotes of the kind you feel you should know if you are to regard yourself as a reasonably civilized and sophisticated human being—which, of course, you know you are.

The Brain Pickings web site team of Maria Popova (see illustration—though she was a little younger then) focuses heavily on concepts and related disciplines like “creativity” and “writing” so, needless to say, I have been drawn to the site like a cat to catnip. My hope is to be enlightened, educated, and stimulated by the many words of wisdom contained in each post, and—you never know—such accidents could happen.

Meanwhile, I have to confess that much of the material that Brain Pickings likes to quote—with which I should be intimately familiar—is really not. However, in the interests of retaining my dignity, I try and disguise that fact.

The following is a fairly typical Brain Pickings piece.

9 Rules for Success by British Novelist Amelia E. Barr, 1901

"Genius is nothing more nor less than doing well what anyone can do badly."

The secret of success – like its very definition – remains amorphous and forever elusive. For Thoreau, it was a matter ofgreeting each day with joy; for Jad Abumrad, it comes after some necessary "gut churn"; for Jackson Pollock's dad, it was about being fully awake to the world; for entrepreneur Paul Graham, it's about purpose rather than prestige; for designer Paula Scher, it meansbeginning every day with a capacity for growth. But perhaps, above all, success is about defining it yourself.

Still, those who have succeed – by their own definition, as well as history's – might be able to glean some insight into the inner workings of accomplishment. From the 1901 volume How They Succeeded: Life Stories of Successful Men Told by Themselves (public library; public domain) comes a wonderful essay by British novelist Amelia E. Barr (1831-1919) who, the despite devastating loss of her husband and three of their six children to yellow fever in 1867, went on to become a dedicated and diligent writer, eventually reaching critical success at the age of fifty-two.

At the end of her essay, under a section titled "Words of Counsel," Barr offers nine tips for success, echoing some familiar themes – Tchaikovsky's insistence on work ethic over inspiration, Ray Bradbury's case for perseverance in the face of rejection, the importance of having a good routine and working with joy, and the necessary reminder that success requires a deliberate investment of effort and good writing takes time.

1. Men and women succeed because they take pains to succeed. Industry and patience are almost genius; and successful people are often more distinguished for resolution and perseverance than for unusual gifts. They make determination and unity of purpose supply the place of ability.
2. Success is the reward of those who "spurn delights and live laborious days." We learn to do things by doing them. One of the great secrets of success is "pegging away." No disappointment must discourage, and a run back must often be allowed, in order to take a longer leap forward.
3. No opposition must be taken to heart. Our enemies often help us more than our friends. Besides, a head-wind is better than no wind. Who ever got anywhere in a dead calm?
4. A fatal mistake is to imagine that success is some stroke of luck. This world is run with far too tight a rein for luck to interfere. Fortune sells her wares; she never gives them. In some form or other, we pay for her favors; or we go empty away.
5. We have been told, for centuries, to watch for opportunities, and to strike while the iron is hot. Very good; but I think better of Oliver Cromwell's amendment – "make the iron hot by striking it."
6. Everything good needs time. Don't do work in a hurry. Go into details; it pays in every way. Time means power for your work. Mediocrity is always in a rush; but whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing with consideration. For genius is nothing more nor less than doing well what anyone can do badly.
7. Be orderly. Slatternly work is never good work. It is either affectation, or there is some radical defect in the intellect. I would distrust even the spiritual life of one whose methods and work were dirty, untidy, and without clearness and order.
8. Never be above your profession. I have had many letters from people who wanted all the emoluments and honors of literature, and who yet said, "Literature is the accident of my life; I am a lawyer, or a doctor, or a lady, or a gentleman."Literature is no accident. She is a mistress who demands the whole heart, the whole intellect, and the whole time of a devotee.

9. Don't fail through defects of temper and over-sensitiveness at moments of trial. One of the great helps to success is to be cheerful; to go to work with a full sense of life; to be determined to put hindrances out of the way; to prevail over them and to get the mastery. Above all things else, be cheerful; there is no beatitude for the despairing.

   Apparent success may be reached by sheer impudence, in defiance of offensive demerit. But men who get what they are manifestly unfit for, are made to feel what people think of them. Charlatanry may flourish; but when its bay tree is greenest, it is held far lower than genuine effort. The world is just; it may, it does, patronize quacks; but it never puts them on a level with true men.

   It is better to have the opportunity of victory, than to be spared the struggle; for success comes but as the result of arduous experience. The foundations of my success were laid before I can well remember; it was after at least forty-five years of conscious labor that I reached the object of my hope. Many a time my head failed me, my hands failed me, my feet failed me, but, thank God, my heart never failed me.

For more of history's timeless wisdom on writing, see H. P. Lovecraft's advice to aspiring writers, F. Scott Fitzgerald's letter to his daughter, Zadie Smith's 10 rules of writing, Kurt Vonnegut's 8 keys to the power of the written word, David Ogilvy's 10 no-bullshit tips, Henry Miller's 11 commandments, Jack Kerouac's 30 beliefs and techniques, John Steinbeck's 6 pointers, Neil Gaiman's 8 rules,Margaret Atwood's 10 practical tips, and Susan Sontag'ssynthesized learnings.

MEMO TO CHARLIE

Image via Wikipedia

"I've got to get back to feed my cat."

Department of Adequate Angst

I normally try and work out what I’m going to write about before opening my eyes in the morning so that after I have commuted to the computer, I can go straight to work.

It’s also a neat way of avoiding writer’s block – if that is something you suffer from. I’m largely spared that particular form of angst although I have adequate supplies of angst about other issues so still qualify as a real author. 

Angst is de rigeur as far as we creative types are concerned. It is as adrenaline. Or so they say.

Currently my angst is being dissipated by Charlie (Charlotte to strangers) a three legged white cat of singular personality and an ulta-loud purr, whose presence is so calming that I’m wondering what history would have been like if Hitler had had a cat.

But I’m glad to report that even with my angst meter temporarily set at low, I still seem able to write.

This morning I woke up with a new and better beginning to THE BOOK-LOVER’S MOVE in my mind. The story has been gestating since I drove across the U.S. back in April but now it seems determined to emerge regardless of my personal priorities.

Writing is less a vocation than a compulsion; and, for many of us, it is even more soothing than a cat.

Hitler, of course, was a writer too - so maybe Charlie wouldn’t have succeeded with him after all.

But I wouldn’t bet on it.


MEMO TO CHARLIE: 

You’re going to be in a book.