On the Move Again

Some dreams take longer than others, as you already know. 30 months ago, I escaped from Charlotte, with a purple trunk and four boxes on board a cross-country train. Destination: Seattle.

My dreams: a studio or apartment in Capitol Hill

and a job at the Elliott Bay book store.

Things didn't go quite as planned. To get my feet, I took a studio in the 'historic'--old and sketchy--part of town known as Pioneer Square.

And, no job offer from the bookstore, I worked at a couple of loser jobs before finding an okay one in...Capitol Hill. Terrific, except for a couple of things: I'd grown tired of seeing throngs of Walking Dead homeless and drug dealers in Pioneer Square. And my workplace is moving to Renton in late August--a three-hour round-trip daily commute.

The time had come for action--the all-out, full-speed, damn the torpedoes kind.

1) At work I learned from a coworker of a studio just a few blocks from the office.

2) I viewed it and decided to take it the next day, though it's a few hundred bucks more than I've been paying. I could make up that difference, I figured, by no longer using Uber.

3) I completed the online application.

4) I reapplied at Elliott Bay Book Company, this time handing the application to a manager.

5) I gave the necessary 2-week notice on my month-to-month studio.

6) I began checking online for cheap but well-reviewed movers.
7) I started scrapping all furniture and furnishings except for the best of the best.

And on and on and on. Before the move to Seattle, I'd needed six months to pack and prepare. This time I have just a couple of weeks. 

Next up: a new job in Capitol Hill.

It's good to be back in action again.

Rain City Blues

It hasn't rained this much in Seattle, they say, since 1961. And I'm of two minds about that. It's a tough choice at the moment between:

Jerry Seinfield
“Seattle is a moisturizing pad disguised as a city.”


and

Tom Robbins
“In the deepest, darkest heart of winter, when the sky resembles bad banana baby food for months on end, and the witch measles that meteorologists call ‘drizzle’ are a chronic gray rash on the skin of the land, folks all around me sink into a dismal funk. Many are depressed, a few actually suicidal. But I, I grow happier with each fresh storm, each thickening of the crinkly stratocumulus. ‘What’s so hot about the sun?’ I ask. Sunbeams are a lot like tourists: intruding where they don’t belong, little cameras slung around their necks. Raindrops, on the other hand, introverted, feral, buddhistically cool, behave as if they live here. Which, of course, they do.”


It should feel more like spring now. Why?

--I've completed and published my new Boss MacTavin mystery, Seattle Red.
--On Wednesday, March 22, I'll be interviewed by Pam Stack on her live podcase, Authors on the Air.
--I've nearly finished laying the foundation for my next novel.
--I've joined a great local, affordable gym a few blocks from my apartment.
--Hold Fast Press has just issued a beautiful print version of Southern Scotch.
--Print plans are in the works for the three remaining Boss MacTavin mysteries.

And yet...

My brain's swimming in rainy day thoughts.
--I should have accomplished more at my age.
--Thinking of time, I feel a growing sense of urgency.
--Within six months, my workplace will move to distant Renton, requiring a far greater round-trip commute.
--The new job site is an isolated office park sending out smothering corporate vibes.
--Goodbye to the gym if I go there and goodbye to the writing time before or after work.
--Goodbye to my benefits, though, if I go and return to temp work.

Yeah, yeah. Boo-hoo, boo-hoo. When it rains, it pours, Reb. But why don't you also remember:

And Caesar wept, recalling that Alexander had ruled the earth before he died at 33.

So even the greatest had rainy day blues. And the blues may hold keys for an excellent spring.

--I can accomplish more if I find a new job in the city, either part time or an easy commute.
--I can reap more from my efforts if I can set up a schedule allowing time for both writing and savvy promotion..
--The sense of urgency is good....as long as it includes more attention to personal relationships.
--And where it belongs, near the top of the list, the time's come around again for:

Years have passed since Juliette died. It's time again for a kitten--for which I'll need a lot more time.
So you see how it all comes together: from rainy day blues...to thoughts of elusive Success...to loneliness and the need for more time...

Yes, I see a spring kitten coming...so I'd better get cracking again on my work.

Then and Now...Or, Helloooooo, 2017!

Three weeks into the new year, I can't believe the difference made by 29 months and a cross-country move. These two years, I believe, will always stand out in my mind:

and

2014: Charlotte, NCk

• A has-been author whose career had gone up in flames
• Arrived in EbookLandia under a cloud of defeat
• No real presence on Social Media
• Job: third shift for close to the minimum wage
• Out of shape
• Lived in a grade C apartment
• Felt trapped  in a city that I'd come to hate
• Daily commute: 2-3 hours a day

Somehow I found the guts, the wherewithal and faith to do what needed doing: namely, at a rather advanced age, to pull off one last cross-country move. This time, I'd go to a place I'd never been but which fascinated. And I'd move with limited cash, no definite job and no idea where I'd live. Best of all, I'd move by train.

Departure: September 2014

2017: Seattle, WA

• Author of 12 ebooks, a thirteenth coming in March
• A strong sense of having found my writing A Game
• Arrangement with Hold Fast Press for print editions of my Boss MacTavin mysteries
• Am booked for a March radio interview
• 1900 Facebook friends and 60,000 Twitter followers
• New job, M-F, with full benefits and a decent salary
• Regular workouts and a healthy diet
• Living in a decent studio in downtown Seattle
• Next up: a 1-bedroom apartment in my ideal neighborhood
• Daily commute: a half-hour each way to work

And, hey, the year has just begun!

Thug City

So, here I am in a place I adore, writing of it as Thug City.

Almost all of the new Boss MacTavin novel will be centered in the notorious part of town known as Third and Pike. Aka, The Scourge of Seattle. And the crime here is horrendous: drive-by shootings, stabbings, beatings with ball pein hammers, muggings, corner drug deals, rape....and theft, theft and still more theft.

My forced research on the area involved my working for six months in a retail store at Third and Pike. I saw it all in my six months: petty theft, grand larceny, rumbles at the entrance, bloodied women weeping that they'd just been raped, security guards beaten and thrown to the ground...And this was in our store alone. Over and over, armed cops would do one freelance security gig--and swear never to return. One very large veteran cop warned me: "Man, your job's more dangerous than mine is. Get out."

Get out I did, and as fast as I could. I'd transferred here from a store location in Charlotte. Now that I had a studio and had gotten on my feet, I vowed to write of what I'd learned and seen. I also swore to learn still more about retail theft. 

I have and I've got a strong book in the works, one based on real experience. It's something new and exciting, I think. At the same time, however, I feel an obligation to do right by the city. Doing right would entail finding something between two classic visions of New York:

Scorcese's hellish Taxi Driver vision:

And Woody Allen's romanticized Manhattan:

For a tight thriller, the challenge is daunting. The focus must be Third and Pike, the horrors I saw daily. The blood and degradation. Yet it's not enough to plunge our hero into this pocket of pus, pretending that it is the city. It's not. Undercover, Boss may grow more sickened with each chapter. But he must catch scattered glimpses of the beauty of Seattle. And at some point he must seek them out to counter the poison that's flooding his soul. 

I've no plans to hold back on Thug City. But if balance is all, then let's have it here too: the city as a character that's flawed but lovely nonetheless.

Yes, by all means let's get Boss to Capitol Hill!

Hey, Where We At--Which Union Square?

Union Square, Manahattan



Union Square, San Francisco



Union Square, Seattle

Most writers are admirably clear about time, but too often unclear about place. Even in a story that has been set in Seattle, we need sometimes to reinforce the reader's sense of bearings. One mention of the city's name may not enough for a reader to place store names like Macy's or Bloomingdales in Seattle, not Manhattan. Furthermore, some landmarks may not be as well-known as we think: e.g., New York's Herald Square or Seattle's Pioneer Square.

Occasional reminders can be placed discreetly: The downtown Macy's is only blocks from 3rd and Pike, the crossing known as The Scourge of Seattle. Or: New York's flagship Macy's, located at Herald Square...

If this seems over-finicky, remember that anything causing a reader to stop and wonder where s/he is will slow down the momentum we've worked so hard to create.

The problem grows more pressing, if our hero--born in New York, now residing in Seattle and just back from San Francisco--finds himself thinking about Union Square.

Even in fantasy novels, I often need more grounding: how far away from 'the city' is the countryside now being shown?





We don't have to choose, as writers, between speed and clarity. Take the time to add the necessary telling detail. The clearer we are, the more quickly and happily readers will read.

Reb MacRath, Action Manifester: Flash Bulletin 6: Part 1

Sometimes when we paint ourselves into a corner we may need to write ourselves out. This Flash Bulletin will tell you how I need exactly that when faced with a life goal that mocked me--and two demons that blocked my escape.

Though I'd moved across country a half-dozen times--once with 300 bucks to my name--my dream of a move to Seattle grew more distant by the time. I'd grown older, times had changed and the move's logistics floored me. Seattle was close to becoming the dream that got away.

I was living from payday to payday and couldn't see how I could finance the move. The harder I tried to figure it out, the more fiercely the demons assailed me. Can't-itis, the king demon, said: You can't find a job out west until you make move and you can't find an apartment there until you have a job and you can't even send your stuff until you have those two. This demon's cousin, Too-Too, pitched in: You're too old to pull this off and you've been working way too long at your present joe job and you're too poor to find a mate and there's too much competition for you to win at selling ebooks.

But something astonishing happened this week: a miraculous shift of perspective. I'd come to see myself, at least in regard to the move, as a helpless sad sack trapped in a pitiful circle of woe. When the miracle happened on Tuesday, I felt flooded in the most wonderful light. I saw with perfect clarity that I wasn't trapped at all. Not if I chose to see myself as the hero of a story that I had the power to write. Say, a thriller about a man down on his luck and facing some mighty tall hurdles...

Now, I knew something about writing after publishing ten books. And among the top lessons I'd learned were these:
1) I need to work by outline, blocking out my stories in clearly defined parts.
2) On the road to redemption, the hero must show a fighting spirit no matter how often he falls. And we need to see this early on.
3) He must move forward, tackling his demons and taking key steps at key times. We can't abide a loser for 80% of a book, though we may abide a loser who shows a winning streak even if he stumbles. Certainly, by the halfway point he'd better show his stripes.
4) In the writing itself, the key thing is to stay on track, getting it down on paper, no matter how wretched the first draft may be.

With these lessons in mind, the move seemed eminently doable--if I broke it down just so, and continued to regard myself as an action hero...temporarily down on his luck. I chose a move deadline: October, 2014. Next, I listed the slew of things I'd have to do: from packing to research to making the money to move, etc. The list looked as formidable as finishing  a novel. But then again, I'd published ten. So I did what I'd do if writing the move as a novel:

I broke it down into parts, things I'd need to do each month. And to start off on the right action footing, I filled a 55-gallon trash bag with clutter and garbage and junk I won't need.

Part 2, coming soon, will offer more specifics--and tell you how I put to work the secret weapon I mentioned a few months ago.

The Seattle Can-Can has begun!