Category Archives: Writing

Fundmentalism in the DSM?

Pagan fundamentalism.  The Wild Hunt ran a great piece on the subject back in February, and yesterday Rachel (thanks for your thought-provoking post which was my launching point) put up more material on the topic.

At first it seems absurd that modern pagans would be anything less than completely tolerant and accepting of other religious views.  How in the world can anyone who’s been marginalized try to marginalize someone else?

Sadly, it’s nothing new.  There are plenty of minorities who are prejudiced against other minorities, persecuted peoples who in turn persecute others,  abused people who abuse others, and so on.  From individuals to groups, this scenario plays out again and again in human history.  Early Christians were persecuted, and in no time launched inquisitions and witch hunts.  Kids who are abused are at risk of growing up to abuse their own kids.

Fundamentalism is a sickness, a mental illness, a disease that strikes in every community and in every culture.  In its most extreme form it can literally be a killer, leading to persecution, massacres, wars, terrorism, and abuse.

Perhaps we should put Fundamentalism in the DSM and treat it like we would any other mental disorder for which sufferers can be saved by early detection and intervention, therapy, and lifelong treatment.

After all, Compulsive Hoarding will likely be in the new DSM-5.  Who is more dangerous, more sick, more in need of help?  A fundamentalist or a person who fills up an apartment with newspapers?

Review: “Lady, Go Die!” by Max Allan Collins & Mickey Spillane

I finished the new Spillane book posthumously completed by Max Allan Collins.  And although it isn’t a great book with a capital “G” — it’s no contender for the Nat’l Book Award or anything — it is a great Mike Hammer book.

Everything you want is there.  Corrupt cops and politicians, evil mobsters, and psycho killers all cower in the dark, waiting to be rooted out of their holes, itching to be punched in the nose or plugged with a 1911 Colt by the incomparable P.I. known as Mike Hammer.  And yes, there are luscious dames, highballs at 10 am on Sunday, loyal friends, and aging heroes with scores to settle.  I can’t stand cliche — except in my hard-boiled fiction.  Here it’s an essential ingredient.

A tip of the fedora to you Mr. Collins.  Although I noticed your hand in the prose a few times, there was nothing there Mickey would’ve said was out of place.  You done good, kid.

Silence and Omens, Doubts and Wisdoms

wpid-IMG_20130310_142938.jpgLately I find myself wanting to shut up more and more.

I think back and so much of what I’ve said over the course of my life seems like such utter and complete bull.  There was a time when I believed in all kinds of things I no longer believe, when I espoused things I no longer espouse.

I think, “Is there a day coming when I’ll be ashamed of what I’m doing and saying right now?”

A friend asked me for advice on a project and half way through my email reply I received an omen: a huge black crow flew into the window and I jumped out of my skin.  I took it as a warning to shut my mouth.  I stopped typing, told him to ignore my advice and do his own thing.  Now I worry that I might have hurt his feelings.

Of the many people have I have influenced in my life, how many have been positively influenced, and how many negatively?  Do the positive influences outweigh the negative?

I find myself wondering if something I’ve said, or might say in the future, could have made someone decide not to create something beautiful.  Then I think, who am I to presume that I’ve had any influence at all?

I’m a writer, a talker, an influencer, a teacher.  It’s what I do, it seems to be in my DNA.  When I was 8 years old I was reading books about bugs and teaching the other neighborhood boys which ones were which.  At 15 I started my first novel and started teaching my friends how to play D&D.  Forty years later and only the subject matter has changed.  Lately what I’m doing now seems childish and pointless.

Is this wisdom or doubt?  I guess that remains to be seen.

Review: Blackbirds by Chuck Wendig

I really wanted to love Blackbirds because I’m a fan of your Terribleminds website.  Your advice to writers — your brass knuckled advice to writers — is great stuff.  You’re a no-nonsense kind of writer.

But I have to say “Sorry Chuck, I liked it but I didn’t love it.”  I’ll give you an “A” for originality because I haven’t read anything like it before.  It had a nice twist at the end, and I was really curious about how Miriam could possibly extricate herself from her predicament.  But overall I had to grade you down in the language department.  And I just wasn’t wrapped up the characters.  I wasn’t sucked into their shoes, and I think that goes back to the language (but I could be wrong).

Blackbirds has a sweaty-balled kind of beauty.  Like a rusty diamond plate bumper on a big rig, you slam the reader down the road and into the guardrail of literature.  You are a true artist in the realm of swearing.  But for me, this was Italian food.  There’s nothing wrong with Italian food.  Millions of people love it.  But me, I’m just not a fan of pasta.  I prefer pretty language.  I’m a sucker for it.  The Catcher in the Rye is raw, there’s sex and swearing, but it’s beautiful to read.

But I suppose we can’t all be Salinger, and you aren’t trying to be, so that’s not a fair thing to expect from you.  It’s a solid book, fun and fast-paced.  I’ll give you a “B.”  Not that you give a flying frick through a rolling doughnut what I think, of course.

An Old Letter from Mickey Spillane

I was cleaning up the other day and I found this piece of memorabilia.  I thought some of my readers might appreciate it.

I’m a big fan of Mickey Spillane.  So big that this blog used to be named “808 Hackard Building” after the fictional office address of Spillane’s most famous character, Mike Hammer.

I know, I know, me being a fan of Spillane doesn’t make much sense.  We’re miles apart as far as politics and writing style.  But he had a great attitude about writing.  He called himself a writer not an author.  He considered himself a workman, a mechanic, a guy who performed a service.  He felt that if you bought a hotdog it should taste good, and if you bought a book you should be entertained.

Anyway, I used to send the old guy notes, usually on his birthday or at Christmas.  One year I sent him a card for his 85th birthday.  A couple of weeks later this letter came in the mail.

Imagine my surprise.  Here’s a letter from Spillane, in my mailbox, complete with strike-outs and inappropriate language.  You can tell that 9-11 had really torched his shorts and they were still smoldering.  I could just picture him banging the letter out on that old typewriter of his.

If you’ve never read anything by Spillane I recommend you try One Lonely Night (1951).  It’s my favorite — short, intense, gut-wrenching in parts, and a true hard-boiled masterpiece.  While trying to thwart a violent communist cell, Mike Hammer wonders if he’s any better than the killers he kills.

R.I.P. Mickey.

Spillane Letter

Here’s the letter Mickey Spillane wrote me on 3/27/2003. R.I.P Mickey.

Two New Books to Read

imageBlackbirds by Chuck Wendig over at Terribleminds came in the mail from Alibris last week and I’m about 60 pages in.  Exciting, plot-driven stuff so far, with a protagonist you love in print but would probably steer clear of in real life (if you knew what was good for you).

(Footnote: If the IOC permitted Swearing as an Olympic event, Chuck Wendig would be its Michael Phelps.  I pity the grocery clerk who puts his bread on the bottom.  Ears will melt.  Parents will hold their children close and shield their faces from the shattering glass of nearby shop windows.  My boy Chuck cusses like a Thompson gun.)

When Blackbirds is done I’ll dig into Lady Go Die by Mickey Spillane and Max Allan Collins.  R.I.P. Mickey, you are missed.  Can’t wait to see what Collins has done with Mickey’s signature character.   I’m a huge fan of Spillane and I’ve read probably 30 of his books, so Max, this is not a pop quiz for zero credit.  This will be for 50% of your final grade.

Dream Forever

imageIsn’t it amazing when kids just fearlessly say and create what they feel and slice through the bullshit?  When they lead us instead of us leading them?

My daughter drew this a few years ago, I think when she was about 12, and the other day we found it.

Thanks to her for reminding me to dream forever.  I will live every day as an expression of Art.  I will dream of penning great stories, of leading others toward the sun, of helping to create a joyful world for all living things, of teaching the weak to become strong and the strong to be compassionate.

Yes, my darling daughter, through the clouds of the day-to-day I will dream forever.  And I hope you will too.

I’m a Winner — TELEPORT US! Short Story Contest at LitReactor

Not the winner, but a winner.  Happy to say my story Ms. Ishmael’s Box made the Winner’s List in the TELEPORT US! sci-fi short story contest over at LitReactor with a 100% thumbs-up score.

There were no ranks or places, just a winner’s list.

My prize?  Sci-fi author Adam Christopher is going to review my story.  Can’t wait to see what he has to say.  I already got a ton of great feedback from other aspiring writers, and I plan to fine tune the story and submit it somewhere for publication.

LitReactor is a great way to hone your skills and get some criticism from other writers.  They offer classes, workshops, literary news, hints and how-to articles, and even publicity.  If you write, by all means check it out.

Fairy Pool Surprise

Fairy Pool at Bryan Park

Fairy Pool at Bryan Park

The first of the Five Vital Graces of Cabal Fang is Wonder.

A powerful sense of wonder inoculates against cynicism, encourages empathy and peace, and generally makes the colors of the world around seem brighter.

On a whim, with a few minutes to spare, I pulled the truck into the park and took a walk.  I saw may wondrous things, amazing things really.

Can I prove that, when I’m not around, fairies play in splash in this pool?  Of course not.  But I can imagine that they do.  I can hope that they do.  Because a world with fairy pools in it is a much more interesting world than a world without them.

And then I can go get back in the truck, and I run my errands.  I go and practice martial arts and think about self defense, and all the dangers and horrors that the world around me threatens.

But through it all I know that for every evil in the world there are a thousand beauties, and miracles, and wonders seen and unseen.

Painting with my Nephew

His is the Lovecraftian monster with a gillion eyes.

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