BLOG: Time Wasters Lost to Time

Hey friends. I’m striving to start writing more. I would like it to return to being an everyday thing. I can work on one of the short stories I got, a novel, a blog here, private journal… whatever so long as I keep my mind exercised and ready for things to come. Cause as soon as the dust settles with the last STARSLAM book being done, it’s off to publishing novels. Most likely I’ll do a print on demand through Amazon or something. I haven’t got that far yet. Gotta get the work in first, of course. But I am always working to move the needle daily on something. As Louis Pasteur said, “Chance favors the prepared mind.” (And to you anti-vaxxers, don’t come at me for mentioning a person known for developing life saving vaccines… like the Rabies vaccine. Humble yourself and just face it: some people were and are just smarter than we can ever achieve to be. Until you get published in a medical journal, you got fuck all to say.)

I used to write a lot as a kid. My mother had a Royal Sabre green typewriter that I used to type out letters and sci-fi stories on. It looked like this:

Wow… looking at it now, I miss that thing. It unfortunately got tossed when mom died back in 2000. I should have kept it. Oh the times my fingers slipped between the keys, making my cuticles bleed. Gives a whole new meaning to the quote: "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed," (Which is usually credited to Ernest Hemingway, but was actually coined by New York Times writer, Red Smith).

One of the few Christmases we celebrated as a family (before we joined the fucking cult religion… but that is a whole other blog), I got my own kid’s typewriter. With that I made my own newspapers and wrote articles like I worked for Starlog magazine. Man, I wish I still had those! I wonder what age 6-9 year old Adam had to say about the world back then, before the world broke his heart on repeat. Somewhere I have a typed four part sci-fi story that I wrote in creative writing class on the above green typewriter. I handed it in for extra credit. Creative writing was always my favorite class to go do. A close second in a tie was Art (natch) and Jazz Band. Man, those were the days.

In order to write, I gotta keep a clear mind. An engaged mind. So I try hard to distract myself from the unethical muck of what is going on in the world. My mind is already long made up about all of that anyway. Instead I focus on the minutia of my little world. On the last blog I mentioned being a completest. Well, I was today years old when I found out that there is a 2009 remix of Pearl Jam’s TEN, with a bonus six songs on it done around that time! WHA!?!?!

Of course, it is mine now. And I’ve added to the list other rare CDs with unheard tracks from bands I like. Every now and then I will scour ebay or discogs to find rare crap like that. I gotta have it all. Does it satisfy or even fulfill me? Probably nothing will. But I keep trying to fill the holes with anything and everything I can.

Today I had a bug up my butt to go out for the thrill of the hunt. I had my son Scott with me and he loves to look for DVDs. So we hit the thrift mall and a couple used media stores. He got two Family Guy dvds he already has.. “But they have the slipcase dad! It’s different! I need it!” Poor kid, he’s an obsessed completest like his father. I have passed that bad trait onto him. Meanwhile, I got some dirt cheap PS1 and PS2 games for my youngest to play. As for my wants, I struck out. But there is always ebay! You should see my watch list. Pages and pages of reminders of things I want for whatever stupid reason.

Lately, I have been interested in old pulp magazines. Amazing Stories, Satellite, etc.

I love the old art on these things. And the covers of vintage paperbacks. I dream of a day where I do not have to punch a clock and I could simply retire and read, write, paint and draw until someone finds my body four weeks after no one has heard from me and they call for a wellness check. But look at those old rags of wonder! What it must have been like for kids back then, when imagination ruled everything instead of ranting youtubers and video games. I would have been one of those kids watching Science Fiction Theater and reading EC Horror books. It was vintage sci-fi magazines and short fiction shows like Night Gallery, Amazing Stories and The Twilight Zone that captured my young imagination enough to want to pursue a creative life as I grew older. That has never left me and I honor all those who made that magic. I cannot wait to continue to add my voice to that world.

And I swear, I will very soon head to Interlochen, NY just to visit Rod Serling’s grave. It’s a bucket list item for me.

If you go into vintage bookstores, there are thousands of these old pulps and paperbacks just collecting dust on the shelves. Maybe the science in these is outdated now but you can still read it in the context of the time in which it was written. What mental fertility they must have had back then! Sometimes I read about scenes in places that were just a hotbed of creativity. Like New York City in the 1980s, where it was just a fount of artistic fecundity, where poets, musicians, artists, and dancers all just influenced each other and made things happen. Some didn’t make it out alive (RIP Basquiat). But good art of any form makes a fruitful eruption of creativity, helping express one’s inner and outer experiences.

I never had a scene like that. I was always late to the table on things. I wish I were born earlier so I could have been a part of things like the Science Fiction Book club or even had a D&D campaign in the 80s. I love old radio shows where the theater of the mind takes over. I’ve always been a creative daydreamer like that. I have, perhaps, too many ideas. I got folders in drawers of half finished thoughts, poems, stories, scripts and more. Seriously, its insane. I’m not sure there is a great unpublished John Kennedy Toole style novel in there. (And please no cracks about how I may resemble a living embodiment of Ignatius J. Reilly. I know you’re thinking it.) And I’m not sure I got something in me that would warrant winning a Hugo or a Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. But one doesn’t get into a creative field to be rich, famous, respected , to win awards or to even be remembered, cause likely we won’t be. To dwell in my own creativity and maybe entertain a handful of people is satisfactory to me.

No we will not be remembered for long. I am reminded of Harlan Ellison’s Sci Fi Buzz segment about Clarence Budington Kelland, once one of the most prolific writers in his day. And I guarantee you have never heard of him. Ellison reflected on Kelland's descent from fame to obscurity, lamenting it as an example of diminished cultural literacy and a decline in interest in the printed word. If I do pay attention to the news and the drivel sometimes spewed forth on various social media posts, I can see it getting worse and worse by the minute. But I strive to ignore it.

As I have aged, I have found some people around me who create a fertile ground for these things. I have writer, artist and musician friends who are all in the trenches trying to throw whatever fecal matter they can at the wall to see what sticks. Or maybe perhaps at least scratches the itch for them. I’ve been honored to help edit or give feedback on their things. Me, the great critic. Yeah, I can do that and give the compliment sandwich. I would always encourage an artist of any type. You never know when you could be the person who opens the door to the next genius of their craft. It’s my job as an elder creative nerd to help lift up the stage for them as I step off one of my own.

I’ve been writing and drawing comics for thirty-two years. And next weekend I have deemed will be my LAST COMIC CONVENTION.

I may hit a small press or zine style show. But not a comic/pop culture con. I’m retiring. Cause even after all the hunting Scotty and I did today, I came home very tired. I napped and still was sore and tired. I’d rather just be home dissecting new media and making new things. I become less and less interested in the hustle of selling and promoting. I just want to do the thing and if someone wants it, its available to them. To create anything, is the gift for me. As writer Alan Moore put it, “One must do a thing without fear of failure or lust for success. And whatever that is, is the purest action one can take.” It also solves the mental problems I have about seeking outside validation. Its quite a sacrifice to make to ensure I remain on the straight and narrow about wherever it is I am going.

I still have a mountain of art to do to finish this last STARSLAM book. But let me toot my own horn for a second. I have finished two 260+ page graphic novels in the last year. Now on page 164 of the third and final. That’s not to say I won’t ever make comics again. I got more PLEASANT LIFE ideas and several other things. Just if I do, you won’t know about it until after its done and available to get the day you hear of it. I am honored when someone wants a piece of me on their shelf. It’s a very rewarding and humbling experience to my little shattered and jaded baby soul.

But until then, I plan to retire this phase of my life with gratitude and start focusing on the creative things I have long since ignored. To be fair, writing was first in my life before art. Art gave me an identity. And now it is time to evolve that and see where the whimsies take me. Only this time, with less bloody cuticles.

Thanks for reading, T

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Obligatory Plug time:

Get my comics via digital download! https://www.drivethrucomics.com/browse/pub/14301/phymns (Must create login to see NSFW stuff)

Always feel free to email me at: phymns@yahoo.com