Saturday, April 25, 2009
Goodbye.
The conditions of anonymity which made this blog experiment appealing have been compromised. I have had two conversations over the course of the last week about the contents of my blog and so I am retiring it. I will blog anonymously under a different blog title and I will make sure to keep it that way. No longer am I willing to share myself beyond the terms in which I had originally set up. If anyone is out there listening, thanks for being here. Good night.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
A Change of Mindset
Amazing how Twain can make you go from doom and gloom to lighting up a room. A fun read found at: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/bn-review/note.asp?note=21967326&cds2Pid=16444&linkid=1379411
Whenever I Am About to Publish a Book
By MARK TWAIN
Reports of his death are no longer greatly exaggerated, yet Mark Twain continues to surprise readers with new work -- new as in never before published in book form, that is. The piece that follows is drawn from the volume Who is Mark Twain?, to be published on April 21 by HarperStudio. We are grateful for the opportunity to share it with our readers. --The Editors Whenever I am about to publish a book, I feel an impatient desire to know what kind of a book it is. Of course I can find this out only by waiting until the critics shall have printed their reviews. I do know, beforehand, what the verdict of the general public will be, because I have a sure and simple method of ascertaining that. Which is this -- if you care to know. I always read the manuscript to a private group of friends, composed as follows:
1. Man and woman with no sense of humor.2. Man and woman with medium sense of humor. 3. Man and woman with prodigious sense of humor. 4. An intensely practical person. 5. A sentimental person. 6. Person who must have a moral in, and a purpose. 7. Hypercritical person -- natural flaw-picker and fault-finder. 8. Enthusiast -- person who enjoys anything and everything, almost. 9. Person who watches the others, and applauds or condemns with the majority.10. Half a dozen bright young girls and boys, unclassified. 11. Person who relishes slang and familiar flippancy. 12. Person who detests them. 13. Person of evenly balanced judicial mind. 14. Man who always goes to sleep.
These people accurately represent the general public. Their verdict is the sure forecast of the verdict of the general public. There is not a person among them whose opinion is not valuable to me; but the man whom I most depend upon -- the man whom I watch with the deepest solicitude -- the man who does most toward deciding me as to whether I shall publish the book or burn it, is the man who always goes to sleep. If he drops off within fifteen minutes, I burn the book; if he keeps awake three-quarters of an hour, I publish -- and I publish with the greatest confidence, too. For the intent of my works is to entertain; and by making this man comfortable on a sofa and timing him, I can tell within a shade or two what degree of success I am going to achieve. His verdict has burned several books for me -- five, to be accurate. Yes, as I said before, I always know beforehand what the general public’s verdict will be; but I never know what the professional reviewer’s will be until I hear from him. I seem to be making a distinction here; I seem to be separating the professional reviewer from the human family; I seem to be intimating that he is not a part of the public, but a class by himself. But that is not my idea. He is a part of the public; he represents a part of the public, and legitimately represents it; but it is the smallest part of it, the thinnest layer -- the top part, the select and critical few. The crust of the pie, so to speak. Or, to change the figure, he is Brillat-Savarin, he is Delmonico, at a banquet. The five hundred guests think they know it is a good banquet or a bad one, but they don’t absolutely know, until Delmonico puts in his expert evidence. Then they know. That is, they know until Brillat-Savarin rises and knocks Delmonico’s verdict in the head. After that, they don’t know what they do know, as a general thing. Now in my little private jury I haven’t any representative of the top crust, the select few, the critical minority of the world; consequently, although I am able to know beforehand whether the general public will think my book a good one or a bad one, I never can know whether it really is a good one or a bad one until the professional reviewers, the experts, shall have spoken. So, as I have said, I always wait, with anxiety, for their report. Concerning my last book the experts have now delivered their verdict. You will naturally suppose that it has set me at rest. No, you are in error. I am as much bothered as I was before. This surprises you? -- and you think my mind is wandering? Wait, and read the evidence, and you will see, yourself, that it is of an unsettling nature. I am going to be fair: I will make no quotation that is not genuine; I will not alter or amend the text in any way.
Whenever I Am About to Publish a Book
By MARK TWAIN
Reports of his death are no longer greatly exaggerated, yet Mark Twain continues to surprise readers with new work -- new as in never before published in book form, that is. The piece that follows is drawn from the volume Who is Mark Twain?, to be published on April 21 by HarperStudio. We are grateful for the opportunity to share it with our readers. --The Editors Whenever I am about to publish a book, I feel an impatient desire to know what kind of a book it is. Of course I can find this out only by waiting until the critics shall have printed their reviews. I do know, beforehand, what the verdict of the general public will be, because I have a sure and simple method of ascertaining that. Which is this -- if you care to know. I always read the manuscript to a private group of friends, composed as follows:
1. Man and woman with no sense of humor.2. Man and woman with medium sense of humor. 3. Man and woman with prodigious sense of humor. 4. An intensely practical person. 5. A sentimental person. 6. Person who must have a moral in, and a purpose. 7. Hypercritical person -- natural flaw-picker and fault-finder. 8. Enthusiast -- person who enjoys anything and everything, almost. 9. Person who watches the others, and applauds or condemns with the majority.10. Half a dozen bright young girls and boys, unclassified. 11. Person who relishes slang and familiar flippancy. 12. Person who detests them. 13. Person of evenly balanced judicial mind. 14. Man who always goes to sleep.
These people accurately represent the general public. Their verdict is the sure forecast of the verdict of the general public. There is not a person among them whose opinion is not valuable to me; but the man whom I most depend upon -- the man whom I watch with the deepest solicitude -- the man who does most toward deciding me as to whether I shall publish the book or burn it, is the man who always goes to sleep. If he drops off within fifteen minutes, I burn the book; if he keeps awake three-quarters of an hour, I publish -- and I publish with the greatest confidence, too. For the intent of my works is to entertain; and by making this man comfortable on a sofa and timing him, I can tell within a shade or two what degree of success I am going to achieve. His verdict has burned several books for me -- five, to be accurate. Yes, as I said before, I always know beforehand what the general public’s verdict will be; but I never know what the professional reviewer’s will be until I hear from him. I seem to be making a distinction here; I seem to be separating the professional reviewer from the human family; I seem to be intimating that he is not a part of the public, but a class by himself. But that is not my idea. He is a part of the public; he represents a part of the public, and legitimately represents it; but it is the smallest part of it, the thinnest layer -- the top part, the select and critical few. The crust of the pie, so to speak. Or, to change the figure, he is Brillat-Savarin, he is Delmonico, at a banquet. The five hundred guests think they know it is a good banquet or a bad one, but they don’t absolutely know, until Delmonico puts in his expert evidence. Then they know. That is, they know until Brillat-Savarin rises and knocks Delmonico’s verdict in the head. After that, they don’t know what they do know, as a general thing. Now in my little private jury I haven’t any representative of the top crust, the select few, the critical minority of the world; consequently, although I am able to know beforehand whether the general public will think my book a good one or a bad one, I never can know whether it really is a good one or a bad one until the professional reviewers, the experts, shall have spoken. So, as I have said, I always wait, with anxiety, for their report. Concerning my last book the experts have now delivered their verdict. You will naturally suppose that it has set me at rest. No, you are in error. I am as much bothered as I was before. This surprises you? -- and you think my mind is wandering? Wait, and read the evidence, and you will see, yourself, that it is of an unsettling nature. I am going to be fair: I will make no quotation that is not genuine; I will not alter or amend the text in any way.
Terror
I'm not sure of anything anymore. Things I believed to be unwavering waver. Things I trusted to be true are false. My head is spinning. I'm not sure which way to turn or which way is up. I'm hoping for peace.
Friday, April 17, 2009
A Tenuous Grasp
I walk the edge of a blade each and every day. I am buffeted each and every day by the nonsensical whims of my own emotions. A couple of days ago I was riding high, feeling in control and having a very good day. The next day begins in much the same way but is soon derailed by the railings of the one person who is supposed to be lifting me up. She leaves a message on my voicemail berating me for a locked door. For the inconvenience of having to use the front door.
It isn't the subject of the voicemail that bothers me. Not in the least, In fact I laugh at the subject of the voicemail but am soon hit with a wave of sadness at the tone of it. I don't want to say I've "never" been spoken to in that tone but it feels that way. It is a mix of condescension, anger, and disregard. It sends me crashing. I come home and don't speak for the remainder of the night. In fact, once the baby is down, I leave for the bar. I don't get wasted, I simply grade papers and have a beer or two until I know my wife is asleep.
The next day is good. I try and forget about the message on my phone and move on with my day. I have a good day but it is shadowed by the presence of no apology. I climb a little higher out of my gloom and finish the day at home with my family, still quiet but apparently it goes unnoticed.
Thursday is a good day at school. I get a ton of work done, my classes are in the library for a presentation and so I am off the hook for lecture. The sun is out and I'm in short sleeves and jeans. It's a good day. My former advisor emails me and tells me he has a giant spread in Writer's Chronicle which should hit any day. I try and lay my hot little hands on it but can't find it anywhere. Patience, patience. I take a walk in the sunlight.
Oh, that reminds me, I've been trying to run lately but I am developing a pain in my ankle. More the side of my foot really. It happened after the first day I ran. I think I pushed myself too far and I've bruised a tendon or something. It doesn't feel like a sprain or anything of that nature. So, I've had to settle for walking, which if overdone, still sends pains shooting up into my calf.
Anyway, it seems that all of these events, both big and small seem to push me too far to one side or another. I'm raw, red raw, hot electric wire raw, and my joys are real but my anger scares me, my sadness threatens to draw me down, and I'm not sure if my amiability is going to be enough to keep me in control.
We'll see. Wish me luck.
It isn't the subject of the voicemail that bothers me. Not in the least, In fact I laugh at the subject of the voicemail but am soon hit with a wave of sadness at the tone of it. I don't want to say I've "never" been spoken to in that tone but it feels that way. It is a mix of condescension, anger, and disregard. It sends me crashing. I come home and don't speak for the remainder of the night. In fact, once the baby is down, I leave for the bar. I don't get wasted, I simply grade papers and have a beer or two until I know my wife is asleep.
The next day is good. I try and forget about the message on my phone and move on with my day. I have a good day but it is shadowed by the presence of no apology. I climb a little higher out of my gloom and finish the day at home with my family, still quiet but apparently it goes unnoticed.
Thursday is a good day at school. I get a ton of work done, my classes are in the library for a presentation and so I am off the hook for lecture. The sun is out and I'm in short sleeves and jeans. It's a good day. My former advisor emails me and tells me he has a giant spread in Writer's Chronicle which should hit any day. I try and lay my hot little hands on it but can't find it anywhere. Patience, patience. I take a walk in the sunlight.
Oh, that reminds me, I've been trying to run lately but I am developing a pain in my ankle. More the side of my foot really. It happened after the first day I ran. I think I pushed myself too far and I've bruised a tendon or something. It doesn't feel like a sprain or anything of that nature. So, I've had to settle for walking, which if overdone, still sends pains shooting up into my calf.
Anyway, it seems that all of these events, both big and small seem to push me too far to one side or another. I'm raw, red raw, hot electric wire raw, and my joys are real but my anger scares me, my sadness threatens to draw me down, and I'm not sure if my amiability is going to be enough to keep me in control.
We'll see. Wish me luck.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Control
How much of our lives do we spend seeking control? We want to control our weight, our smoking, ourselves, our impulses, our tempers, our loved ones, our circumstances. It's maddening. Every now and again, though, we are given the chance to exert a little bit of control. Done in the proper context, with the proper motivation, it is a great thing.
I'm feeling great about the smoking cessation program I've begun. The hypnotist has given me a great gift, a little extra self-control. I've been seeking it for months now. I feel good for having taken this step and I want to hold on to this feeling. That is one thing, one positive of quitting that I didn't figure into the equation...it feels so damn good.
I'm feeling great about the smoking cessation program I've begun. The hypnotist has given me a great gift, a little extra self-control. I've been seeking it for months now. I feel good for having taken this step and I want to hold on to this feeling. That is one thing, one positive of quitting that I didn't figure into the equation...it feels so damn good.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Saturday
The hypnotism is holding strong. I listened to the follow up CD and was amazed at how quickly I fell back into the trance-like state I experienced in the presence of the hypnotherapist. I woke this morning (after a night of drinking for my mother-in-law's birthday) and felt fantastic. I went to breakfast with the family, got some work done in the yard and then went for the first run in what I hope will be a long string.
When I was thirty years old I talked myself into "the year of change." It was one year where I took risks and pushed myself to change beyond the comfortable boundaries I'd set for myself. It was, and remains to be, on of the greatest years of my life. I'm trying for this again. I need a life overhaul. I'm on the path, I'm making changes and I'm hoping I have the courage and and fortitude to see this experiment through to its natural conclusion.
When I was thirty years old I talked myself into "the year of change." It was one year where I took risks and pushed myself to change beyond the comfortable boundaries I'd set for myself. It was, and remains to be, on of the greatest years of my life. I'm trying for this again. I need a life overhaul. I'm on the path, I'm making changes and I'm hoping I have the courage and and fortitude to see this experiment through to its natural conclusion.
Friday, April 10, 2009
A New Day
My in-laws should be arriving any moment. When they do, I will leave my house and drive into southeast Portland to meet with the hypnotist. I've met the man once. I liked him immediately. His work space was a hypnotherapy clinic/photography studio. We talked for an hour and a half on Monday and decided my quit day would be today, Friday. There was no actual hypnosis on Monday but by the end of the appointment, I found that my arms were no longer crossed over my chest, my legs were stretched in front of me, and if I had simply laid my head back onto the backrest of the sofa, I could have taken a nap.
I have a feeling I'm going to be pretty susceptible to hypnotic suggestion. This counselor records his session so that I can hear everything he is saying and I trust him, although I don't know him. Something about his energy puts me at ease. I'm excited to be saying goodbye to cigarettes. I have such a shameful love/hate relationship with the damn things but I can no longer justify it on any level. I just had a peer tell me that she found a lump in her breast. The bar where I work has done a fundraiser for a cancer child. It's everywhere and I don't need to be assisting it.
My reasons for quitting are many but here are some the hypnotherapist and I outlined:
1. My family (Shea and Tracy)
2. My level of desirability with my wife (aka I stink when I smoke, and stinky isn't sexy).
3. Long term health (Cancer, Emphysema, etc.)
4. My aerobic fitness (short term health).
5. Time (Smokes used to be a time out and now they are a time suck. I could be blogging instead of standing on my back patio smoking).
6. Money (Oregon just implemented another increase to the cigarette tax and smokes are now over $5 a pack.
7. Self-esteem. I feel out of control when it comes to the issue of cigarettes. It is something I haven't been able to master since I was about fifteen or sixteen years old. It's time to find some inner strength and conquer my Grendel.
Well, I should wrap this up. My in-laws should be here any minute. I'm off.
I have a feeling I'm going to be pretty susceptible to hypnotic suggestion. This counselor records his session so that I can hear everything he is saying and I trust him, although I don't know him. Something about his energy puts me at ease. I'm excited to be saying goodbye to cigarettes. I have such a shameful love/hate relationship with the damn things but I can no longer justify it on any level. I just had a peer tell me that she found a lump in her breast. The bar where I work has done a fundraiser for a cancer child. It's everywhere and I don't need to be assisting it.
My reasons for quitting are many but here are some the hypnotherapist and I outlined:
1. My family (Shea and Tracy)
2. My level of desirability with my wife (aka I stink when I smoke, and stinky isn't sexy).
3. Long term health (Cancer, Emphysema, etc.)
4. My aerobic fitness (short term health).
5. Time (Smokes used to be a time out and now they are a time suck. I could be blogging instead of standing on my back patio smoking).
6. Money (Oregon just implemented another increase to the cigarette tax and smokes are now over $5 a pack.
7. Self-esteem. I feel out of control when it comes to the issue of cigarettes. It is something I haven't been able to master since I was about fifteen or sixteen years old. It's time to find some inner strength and conquer my Grendel.
Well, I should wrap this up. My in-laws should be here any minute. I'm off.
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