Day 4: Bloom here

That has got to be rule four. Be here now. Bloom where you are planted, even if you are planted here along the Mississippi River for only four days.

I’ve spent two nights at my sisters and have two more nights to go. This is the longest stop of my 28 day journey, save one, and half of my brain at least is already worrying about the trip ahead, checking on reservations, considering needed supplies. No, I tell myself. Stop it. Just stop it.

This is precious time. The river is wonderful, the company irreplaceable. I settle back into my seat on the boat. Is there a song for this? Of course there is.  Here it comes, live from all the way back in 1969.

Nothing cool about modest ambitions

I’m attending my first conference of writers of any sort, and it isn’t surprising I am having an eye opening experience. The Science Fiction Writers Association is about to hand out this year’s Nebula Awards, and this is something I’ve followed since I was a teenager. Let others care about country music and Broadway plays; I was interested way back when in who wrote the best science fiction.

The organization has publishing standards for membership, and I only qualify as an associate member. This conference is open to non-members, too, but given the cost and programming, you don’t attend unless you are serious about writing speculative fiction. So I really am surrounded by three hundred people all doing or trying to do what I spend my time doing. It scares and excites me.

It also brings my “why do I write” quandary front and center and forces me to confront the part of my dreams I seldom speak of openly. I already know it is admirable and interesting to not care about making money, or to pretend not to care, as the case may be. Being an artist who is driven to create for the sheer joy of it has great appeal. Greed is ugly. Creativity is cool.

Yet, we also have a cultural fascination with being rich, and everyone admires success. To be driven is admirable. To say I believe in my books and trust they will someday be best sellers is also cool. Who doesn’t like a fighter determined to make it to the big time?

Wouldn’t you know it. I’m not either of these kinds of cool.

It is my impression that most if not all of the other writers at this SFWA Nebula Conference want to be successful, and the more successful the better. Those that only care about the pure act of creating have stayed home, or not joined this organization to begin with. Panels on how to sell one’s work abound and I’ve gone to quite a few of them.

Here is my little secret. I want to make money from my books,  just not a lot of it. I want a modest amount of success. As I move into full retirement, I’d like my writing to be there for me, providing a steady stream of play money while not really changing my life. Neither starving artist nor world famous author suits me nearly as well as mediocre success. That’s what I really want. It’s not something you can tell people.

My books started out on a reasonable trajectory to do just that, by the way, but in the noisy market of ever more sparkly self-published books, sales have already fallen below the level of play money, unless one is willing to count a nice lunch out a month as sufficient play. It isn’t for me. I was hoping for something between a dinner at a really nice restaurant every couple of weeks and a couple of trips a year to somewhere exotic. Maybe both. I’m not selling myself short; I’m going for what I actually want, uncool as it is.

Here’s the problem. The last couple of days have made me aware that I am unlikely to find even this modest financial fulfillment unless I make some changes. Those wiser and more successful at this self-publishing thing have told me it can work if, and only if, I plug myself more firmly into genre sales. I need to define what I write (superhero books? urban fantasy? metaphysical fiction?). Then I need to research what other books in this genre look like and I need covers that look like my genre. Then, I need names for my books that define them as being in my genre. Then I need to reissue them.

No one, at this point, has told me I have to rewrite the books themselves, which is good news because I’m not sure I’d be willing to do so, even as I fear lovers of superheros or urban fantasy will find my books lacking in the dazzle they expect. But maybe not.

I’ll never know if I don’t try. My books have more than met my first three reasons for writing, leaving me entertained, saner and more knowledgeable. Can they also provide me with an unimpressive but noticeable amount of play money? I hope so. Guess I’m going to try to find out.

Speaking of being cool, that ties into my fifth reason for writing. Ironic, huh? How did my muse become so entangled in such contradictory desires? I’ll try to sort it out in my next post.

(Read more about why I write at The Number One Reason I Write Books,  My Eye-opening Second Reason for Writing, I write because it’s cheaper than therapy, I love to be loved and Remember My Name.)

 

 

What you don’t know …. has the power to amaze you

What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Or can hurt you. What you don’t know could fill volumes. You don’t know what you don’t know ….. and “what you don’t know” is the start of many bits of wisdom, not all of which are wise.

I recently had a wonderful trip to Peru, and came home realizing something new about what I don’t know. It’s the only thing that has the power to amaze me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of knowledge. It’s essential for smart behavior in everyday life, and it makes traveling easier and less stressful. I research my trips ahead of time and I have fun looking forward to experiencing sights, sounds and tastes recommended to me by other travelers. But if that is all I do on the road, I’ll never be surprised. My trip to Peru made me more aware of how it is the unexpected discovery that holds the power to astonish.

Take Machu Picchu. It was wonderful, in spite of the rain and the crowds and many cordoned off areas designed to help preserve this wonder of the past. I’m glad I went. But how could I be amazed? It looked just like the pictures. Just like I expected. Very cool.

The day at Machu Picchu was also long and tiring, starting at dawn and ending with a bus, train and van combo back to Cusco. My travel companion was less exhausted than I, and spontaneously agreed to go on a second venture the next day leaving at three in the morning and involving a lot of walking and donkeys. She was off to Rainbow Mountain, a place she had never heard of and wasn’t sure she even wanted to see.

I’m willing to bet it was the most amazing part of her trip. She walked to over 17,000 feet and found herself here.

My day was more restful, but I had time to wander around the streets of Cusco, to sit in a park, find a small coffee shop, and be surprised be at what could be discovered on a self-guided walking tour of this city. I found things to amaze me, as well.

This epiphany about the unknown has prompted me to ask others who enjoy traveling to describe their favorite “I had no idea” moment. One man spoke of a wonderful trip to Nicaragua. He was hoping to go to this ocean on his last day, but his traveling companion insisted on taking him on a jeep ride well into the jungle. He got out at their destination frustrated, only to find they were at a beautiful, clear fresh water lake known to very few people

A well-traveled couple from South Africa, , also part of our Peru Venture, didn’t hesitate when asked for their most amazing surprise while traveling. It was the city of Assisi in the Province of Perugia, Italy. Unexpectedly beautiful. I certainly would never have guessed that.

I have my own such story. My husband and I stumbled on Slieve League in County Donegal, Ireland years ago after visiting the lovely Cliffs of Moher. Slieve League’s sheer drop of over 1500 feet down to the ocean is three times that of Ireland’s more famous cliffs, and I remember clearly how the two of us stood at the top of it in astonishment, wondering how we could possibly not have heard of this.

I now think every trip needs room for surprises like this. We spent our last night in Peru in Lima, and signed up at the last minute for some tour of a park with fountains. It turns out that the Magic Water Circuit, as it is called, is fairly famous, but we didn’t know about it, and the dancing light shows in 13 giant fountains left us, you guessed it, amazed.

Aren’t we lucky it’s a big world, and none of us have the time or inclination to learn everything about it all before we travel?

(For more on my trip to Peru see woman traveling alone and History at its most exciting.)

 

 

 

Ah, the stock market …

In spite of a year of disturbing news ranging from North Korean threats to Russian meddling to a president with record low approval ratings and an embarrassing compulsion for lying, the stock market keeps going up. It’s hard not to look at Wall Street and say “Really? What gives with you people?”

In fairness, I’m a moderate independent who neither voted for, nor liked, Donald Trump the candidate. However, like many Americans, I would have been happy to have been pleasantly surprised. If, once elected, he had rolled up his sleeves, left behind his junior high school name calling and applied a well-honed business acumen to improving our economy, I’d have given a sigh of relief.

I think we can all agree that isn’t what happened.

And yet, the Dow Jones has climbed from 20,000 to over 26,000 in the last year, reflecting the fact that most of the stocks in my (and maybe your) little retirement accounts are worth a good bit more. A good bit of a little isn’t all that much, but one appreciates the increase. Plus, news about jobs and wages is fairly good, too.

Much of the mild but general improvements in the economy at large are being attributed to the president before our current leader. The economic ship is a giant one, it responds slowly to changes at the helm. It apparently was on a good course last January, and it hasn’t been run aground since. The current administration may even be continuing to nudge it away from the rocks. I’ll take what little good news I can get.

That hardly explains the exuberance of the stock market, which can and occasionally has made drastic changes in the course of a single day.

What drives these changes? The biggest single investors are large funds, such as teacher’s pension funds in various states. These are conservatively run and, in my humble opinion, not the trendsetters of the stock market. They follow.

The mood of the market, if you will, comes from individuals and smaller groups with considerable wealth of their own to manage. These folks, or many of them, appear downright giddy these days. Why?

I’m going to take a guess. I think the common wisdom among this group is that under the current administration they are going to get even richer. Nothing makes the money on wall street happier than the idea that more money is going to be made.

This could be due to a generic GOP lessening of regulation when it is good for wealth (repeal of Dodd-Frank reform) and a tightening of regulation when it is good for wealth (repealing net neutrality). It’s really not about small government, you see, but rather about laws that make it easier to take a chuck of money and make more. This is great for those with a chunk to start with, but less so for those getting by, who will now see a little more skimmed from them in dozens of different clever ways.

This sense that times are good for the wealthy could also be coming from the biography of the current president. He came from wealth, he has wealth, and he is a wheeler-dealer who has spent his life working to increase his wealth. Surely he is going keep the good times rolling.

Or, this positive exuberance could be no more than the enthusiasm of a classroom full of misbehaved children who have just figured out that their substitute teacher is an idiot. Oh boy. Are we going to have fun today.

Or maybe it’s a combination of all three. What do you think?

Never in my life have I seen the behavior of the stock market so at odds with the mood of the country. I live in North Carolina, a politically mixed state that went for Trump, and in which a wide variety of people generally get along. No matter how we voted, most of us here seem to be watching the news and feeling pretty pessimistic about the future.

Can it be true that the future looks bad for most of us, and looks really, really good for the few that set the mood on Wall Street? Maybe for the moment, but I don’t think that is a sustainable situation. We are all interconnected, perhaps in ways we are forgetting.

 

 

 

 

I’ll always be glad to see you

eyeDon’t be offended, but I’ll always be glad to see anyone. Or anything.

Last November I wrote a post called I see what you mean in which I described my eye problems over the last year or two and how they have made me aware of how much I rely on vision. Metaphors of vision for knowledge (I see what you mean) and experiences (travel and see the world) abound for good reason. Worse yet, while I know it is technically possible to write fiction without my sight, I can’t imagine doing so.

Why am I writing about this again? Well, the itching discomfort has returned and no amount of eye drops is helping anymore. I hate going to the doctor. I dislike medicines. Yet the the problem is becoming too big to ignore, so I have an appointment Wednesday. And I don’t want to go.

27-Courage-17We are back to the old issue of uncertainty, and oh if we could only see the future. Maybe the problem is minor.  I should go and get this off my mind already. Maybe it is major and time is not my friend. If I get my butt in there, the outcome may be better. And maybe it is awful and my life will never be as good after Wednesday in which case I’d rather just not go. Except for this eye thing, my life is pretty good now and there is a big temptation not to mess that up.

What to do? If only I had my character Ariel’s gift  for seeing the future. But of course, Ariel sees probabilities not outcomes. Maybe the best she could do is say it is like 50% they don’t find anything wrong and give me stronger eye drops or some other such trivial thing, maybe 30% I really need something done fast and I’ll be so glad I went and let’s say 20% I’m screwed.

What do you do with that kind of knowledge anyway? Now if Ariel could tell me there was a 99% chance of the first two outcome, that would be helpful. I’d go to the damn appointment and get this done. Or if she could see a 99% chance that Wednesday starts a downward spiral in my life that I never pull out of, then I think I’d just go for a walk instead.

Do you see what I mean? I write stories about superpowers and the otherwise typical humans who have them. I spend a lot of time wondering how those superpowers would actually work. Precognition that sounds like a weather forecast and is about as useful isn’t much of a superpower at all, is it? But insight into a future that is nearly determined would be helpful indeed.

danceI think I’m back to Schrödinger’s poor cat, existing in her box both dead and alive until someone takes off the lid and the universe must go one way or the other.

Today, I’m a woman who is slowly going blind and I am a woman with a minor but chronic eye irritation. Tomorrow, I’ll be the same. On Wednesday, however,  a very nice optometrist will take the lid off my box and then he and I will know.

I wonder if Schrödinger’s cat was smart enough to be frightened when she heard the person coming to take off the lid?