tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81688494662964977152023-03-20T21:35:05.647-04:00Hephaestus's HammerWritings, Art, and Musings by Jacob FerrierAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-21126399620907579282014-01-08T13:00:00.000-05:002014-01-08T13:00:10.666-05:00Coins<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uobXOtwwFE8/Us2QuyJsMqI/AAAAAAAAAi0/JoBfUxdcEv0/s1600/Coins.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uobXOtwwFE8/Us2QuyJsMqI/AAAAAAAAAi0/JoBfUxdcEv0/s1600/Coins.png" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0Mid-Town Belvedere, Baltimore, MD, USA39.304520813611973 -76.61656022071838439.304136813611976 -76.617190720718384 39.304904813611969 -76.615929720718384tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-57013039918642190602014-01-08T11:36:00.000-05:002014-01-08T11:36:27.715-05:00Hard (Poem)<div class="MsoNormal">
Wind-chisels jaw forward jutting<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pits
behind clenching pain<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stone
skinned<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I see
the beggar begging<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five-finger
plate stretches out<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stalactites,
eroded mesa want<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dead
diamonds plead useless<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daylight
waxes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daylight
waxes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Can anybody help?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daylight
waxes<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Barren
tor low<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shoulder
moor bowed forward<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stone
skinned<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unmoving<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-36382281715207069862013-07-18T15:00:00.002-04:002013-07-18T15:01:36.189-04:00Short Story: The Djinn<b>A traveler came upon the opening of a cave</b> exposed by a mudslide, and, seeking shelter for the night, he entered the maw. Inside he discovered the usual: piles of gold and silver, gems of all sizes and shapes, treasures beyond the imagination, and of course a small oil-lamp, which did not have the same luster as the rest of the riches, being tarnished by natural forces. Knowing full well that the lamp was therefore the least <i>obviously</i> supernatural object in the cave, it must also be the <i>most</i> important, and since he was familiar with myths of Djinn and the three wishes the creature would grant, he rubbed the lamp, pretending that he was shining it (for effect). He was still somewhat surprised when a giant, iridescent being appeared from the spout of the lamp, but perhaps he was only startled; he set the lamp on the floor and gave a low bow to the Djinn, hoping that it was not the vengeful type most typically found in the Arabian Nights, of which he’d read enough of to know the dangers.<br />
<br />
“Who dares disturb the Djinn of the Lamp?” Boomed the supernatural being. He (or it) seemed to be made of plasma, or at least very hot gas, being somewhat transparent but also giving off a significant amount of prismatic light. His eyes were glowing brighter than the sun, and his arms were folded exactly how you’d expect them to be.<br />
<br />
“It is I,” said our bowing protagonist, “a simple traveler, who has awakened you.”<br />
<br />
“So it is. Tell me humble traveler, what are your deepest wishes, for I will make them come true. I will grant you three such wishes, by the grace of Allah.”<br />
<br />
“Three then…” the traveler rose from his bow and looked the Djinn head to lamp, then hummed to himself.<br />
<br />
“What is your first wish?”<br />
<br />
“Hold on a moment!” The traveler raised his hands in protest. “You haven’t told me the rules!”<br />
<br />
The Djinn let out a terrible yell which shook the cavern and caused some of the treasures to avalanche. “The Rules?” He bellowed in contempt, perhaps, and then began chuckling. “What do you mean, rules?”<br />
<br />
“Well!” The traveler sat down on a pile of gold. “Aren’t there rules? For example, could I, hypothetically, wish for more wishes?”<br />
<br />
“You could!”<br />
<br />
“But would you give me more?”<br />
<br />
The Djinn gave a great laugh, which reverberated in the chamber for almost a minute. “You are wise, humble traveler! I would not give you more wishes. By the Grace of Allah a man can have three and three only!”<br />
<br />
“Ah, I see…” the traveler thought this over for a second. “So I wouldn’t be able to wish for more Djinns, either.”<br />
<br />
In that moment the brightness of the Djinn faded and his form became more solid. His eyes lost some of their glow, and his arms dropped limply to his sides. “More… Djinn?” His frown became not a terrible countenance but the simple look of the perplexed. “Come on,” he said in a no-longer booming voice, “you can’t seriously believe that I would, or even could, make more Djinn for you.”<br />
<br />
The traveler nodded. “That’s what I’m talking about. Rules. Restrictions. Limits to your power.”<br />
<br />
“My powers come from Allah. If he wishes me to have limitless power, it will be so.”<br />
<br />
“Right. But not right now.”<br />
<br />
The Djinn looked defeated, wearing an expression of someone who had just discovered that they were under-dressed for an occasion. “No. Not right now.”<br />
<br />
“So what is the extent of your power?”<br />
<br />
The Djinn became terrifying again, his body glowing more brightly than before, his eyes like a thousand suns… his arms folded across his chest. His voice was like thunder or something else very loud. “Humble Traveller! You have not made any wishes!”<br />
<br />
Keeping his cool (although the reversion of the Djinn had caught him off guard) the traveler lowered his hands (which had been protecting his face instinctually) and grinned like an idiot. “Is there a time frame?”<br />
<br />
“What!?” <br />
<br />
“How long do I have to make the wishes?”<br />
<br />
The Djinn’s shoulders slumped, and all the glow went out of him. “Seriously dude?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah. I mean, I have questions. Is it alright for me to ask, or will I lose my wishes?”<br />
<br />
The Djinn glared at him, but then said, in monotone, “By the Grace of Allah you have three wishes.” He let out a huge sigh (which the traveler noted, wondering if the Djinn respired or feigned the behavior) and folded his arms in a lazy, comfortable way. “Ask your questions.”<br />
<br />
The traveler smirked. “Thanks… I mean, here I am, standing with a massively ancient being of incredible power, and, well, I’d be foolish of me not to learn as much as I could.”<br />
<br />
Now the Djinn smirked, but twitched the smile away. “Why not wish for all knowledge? I could give you the wisdom of Allah, the divine understanding of all things!”<br />
<br />
The traveler raised an eyebrow, nodded, and scratched his chin. “Yes,” he said, “but that would most certainly kill me, wouldn’t it?” <br />
<br />
The Djinn’s mouth hung open.<br />
<br />
The traveler continued. “giving me all the knowledge that exists in the universe would cause my head to become so heavy that it would likely collapse into a singularity. At the very least, I’d become so confused that I wouldn’t be able to function; no, honorable Djinn, I won’t be wishing for Cosmic Understanding, that is for certain!”<br />
<br />
The Djinn wiped his hand on his forehead. “You are wise, humble traveler.”<br />
<br />
“Every action has consequences. That’s why I must be extra cautious with my wishes. I might cause myself or someone I love great harm!”<br />
<br />
“You are trying my patience! Why not wish for riches, immortality, or power?”<br />
<br />
The traveler scratched his chin and thought. Then: “No, I don’t think any of those wishes will do, not without a lot of forethought!”<br />
<br />
The Djinn simply waited.<br />
<br />
“Suppose I wish for riches? Well, our societies are so advanced that we have nearly infallible record-keeping. Perhaps I wish for millions of dollars… where do those dollars come from? Our paper money has serial numbers, so that counterfeit bills are easily found. Sooner or later, someone would notice all of that extra money, and I’d go to jail. I could never take the money to the bank; they’d notice immediately. Perhaps the money came from someone else? Why, I could ruin them, and who knows what consequence could come from that! I could put hundreds or thousands out of work. No, I don’t wish for riches that way.”<br />
<br />
“What about Power?” asked the bewildered Djinn.<br />
<br />
“Power,” the traveler folded his arms. “What kind of power? I don’t wish to rule a nation, or even the planet. Frankly, I doubt I’d be any good at either. I don’t know much about politics, or economics, or any of that sort of thing; I’m a simple traveler. Likely, if I wished myself into power, I would come to a grisly end after a few short years, when the people could no longer stand my ineptitude.”<br />
<br />
The traveler nodded. “And immortality! What a bittersweet gift that would be! To watch the empires rise and fall… and eventually fall forever. Who wants to be alone for a billion years before the end? And what if there is an afterlife? Would living forever prevent me from gaining everlasting life in paradise? And more to the point,” continued the excited traveler,” in what capacity would I live forever? What if someone chopped my head off! Why, I wouldn’t wish to spend a minute as a head without a body, let alone thousands or millions of years.”<br />
<br />
The Djinn raised his hands. “Just… just… forget…”<br />
<br />
But the traveler continued as if he hadn’t heard. “I’d have to wish that I was also impervious, but then, what if this conflicted with my natural body functions? Our cells are designed to die after a certain number of divisions… imagine, I wish to be immortal and impervious, and then suffer from systematic, body-wide cancer…” the traveler placed a hand on his cheek, wide eyed. “Yeash! You can see why this is difficult for me.”<br />
<br />
During the rant, the Djinn had formed legs for himself, and was now seated on a pile of gold coins, his head in his hands. He was silent.<br />
<br />
The traveler looked at the Djinn for a while, a finger to his lips, pondering. At last he asked “Do you wish to be free?”<br />
<br />
The Djinn looked up at him. “Free? How do you mean?”<br />
<br />
“Well, aren’t you sick of being in that lamp?”<br />
<br />
“Should I be?”<br />
<br />
The traveler shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to be kept in one place for such a long time. Wouldn’t you like the freedom to do as you wish, to go where you wanted, to live life on your own terms?”<br />
<br />
The brow of the Djinn was knit. He seemed deep in thought. Finally he answered. “My lamp is to me as the Earth is to you.”<br />
<br />
“But you have to follow the rules, and grant wishes!”<br />
<br />
“I like granting wishes!” then, under his breath, “normally.”<br />
<br />
“When was the last time you granted wishes?”<br />
<br />
“About 10,000 years ago.”<br />
<br />
The traveler scratched himself under the arm. “But that’s, well, that’s before civilization…” <br />
<br />
“There is much you don’t know about the world, Humble Traveler.”<br />
<br />
“Well, where shall we begin?”<br />
<br />
The Djinn looked around at the cavern filled with splendors. He winced. “Now?”<br />
<br />
The traveler smiled. “I wish for a nice, comfortable chair, great for sitting for hours on end, and a stack of notebooks… with a good, working pen!” <br />
<br />
The Djinn closed his eyes as his mouth sat agape. “Really?”<br />
<br />
“Yes. Can that be all one wish?”<br />
<br />
“Sure, why not? Anything else?”<br />
<br />
“Maybe a soda?”Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-39644506941138227362013-07-10T13:27:00.001-04:002013-07-10T13:27:18.706-04:00On Writer's Block<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">ALL WRITERS HAVE EXPERIENCED WRITER’S BLOCK</span> at one time or
another, especially the younger, less practiced writers that often struggle
with day-jobs or school classes. Among
circles of writers one will commonly hear refrains of “I haven’t been feeling
creative lately,” and “I don’t know what to write about.” There is something mystical about not being
able to write, something existential, or hard to define, and each writer has,
it seems, their own conception of why they cannot write, why they cannot think “creatively,”
or why the cannot think of anything to say.<br />
<br />
A simple Google search will yield thousands of bits of advice about overcoming
writer’s block, and most of it is drivel, the kind of “This is what I do”
advice that often fails to address the problem.
I’ve always abhorred writing exercises, prompts, and the ilk; to me,
these things serve only to get words on paper, thoughtless busywork of the
worst kind, ultimately resulting in writing that is both shallow and devoid of
character. I reject this kind of
school-yard writing as a cure to writer’s block.<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, if one wants to overcome writer’s block, one must first
understand <i>why</i> one cannot write.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When dealing with the dreaded block, it is important to
first recognize precisely what type of writer's block you have. Not all blocks are created equally, after
all. And yes, this too is advice on how
to defeat block, but it is my intent to give more universal advice and stray
away from the more useless ideas. I
personally categorize writer’s block in three separate categories: UNwriter’s
Block, PlotBlock, and LAZYBlock.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
<b><span style="text-indent: 0.25in;">1. </span><span style="text-indent: 0.25in;">UNwriter’s
block</span></b></h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
THE FIRST TYPE OF
BLOCK is when you simply have no idea what to write about. This seems like the worst type of block to overcome,
but it is actually, by far, the easiest to conquer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I have UNwriter's block, I first remind myself that I
am trying too hard. Really! I'm usually trying too hard to come up with a
'good' idea, something that really grabs my mind, some concept that has never
been done before. All the ideas I have seem stupid and simple, and I can't
latch on to any of them. "No one would read that!" I say to myself. Sometimes it seems like I have no ideas at
all, that my mind is literally empty of literary merit. But it is the same thing: Either I am
dismissing my ideas consciously, or unconsciously I am not paying any attention
to my ideas, letting them rise and fall almost as if in meditation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But think of it this way: all stories, when reduced to the
kernel of their plot, sound ridiculous. No one would read them! Examples: There
is a type of ice that exists at room temperature: <i>Cat's Cradle</i>. A boy doesn't
want to grow up: <i>Catcher in the Rye, Peter Pan</i>, many others. The depressing
life of a salesman:<i> Death of a Salesman</i>. There are Zombies: <i>World War Z</i>. The
king needs to be killed: <i>Julius Caesar</i>. There is a kid that turns out to be a
wizard: <i>Harry Potter.</i> A man does drugs: <i>Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas</i>. A man
has an imaginary friend: <i>Fight Club</i>. A man travels to hell and then to heaven:
The Divine Comedy. A guy died: <i>The death of Ivan Ilyich</i>. Dude can't get home:
<i>The Odyssey</i>. And so on and so forth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The point is, when stuck with UNwriter's block, all you have
to do is realize that just about any idea you have is a jumping off point.
Then, just start thinking about anything that goes along with it, or contrasts
with it. Start writing down the ideas,
and I make a list of possible plots, possible ideas, possible characters,
what-have-you. Soon, you got something to write.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think this approach is better than writing prompts because
writing prompts give you an idea to work with, but it isn't your idea, so you
don't mentally "own" it. But
that's just like, my opinion, man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A lot of people prescribe "free-writing" when a
person has UNwriter's block, but that often just makes stories that don't take
off or go anywhere. There is nothing wrong with thinking about writing as
opposed to writing. Sitting there and filling a notebook page full of possible
ideas is as valid a creative activity as writing proper is, and, frankly,
necessary for longer works.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And it's okay to throw ideas away. The kernel of the story
might change, that's fine. Put some ideas down on paper, plan a story out. Give
yourself an outline: Now that you've got some ideas, no matter how simple they
seem (dude rides a bus), start thinking about the story in terms of
composition. Think about the characters and the plot first: who is this dude
riding the bus, and what is the climax. What does the story MEAN? What could I
say about dude on the bus? Maybe I want to talk about poverty in America. Okay,
dude rides a bus all day because he has nowhere to go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Criticize your own ideas, and find solutions. There's no way
they'd let the dude ride the bus all day! They'd kick him off. Unless he bought
a pass. Why spend money on a pass? Why not on booze? Oh, he must have a reason.
Because it's hot. That's obvious, right? So a homeless guy buys a monthly pass
and rides the bus all day so he can get out of the heat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I have a character and plot intertwined. He has a logic
that I can follow, I can understand his method of thinking just by his solution
to the problem of the heat in the city.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, the UNwriter will soon find that he or she's developing
a story. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, that's my advice on type one writers block, for the
UNwriter that can't seem to come up with anything to write about. Stop trying
to write and start planning to. Put your mind to work. Take anything that comes
to mind and start trying to craft a story out of it, not by writing, but by
planning, drafting, outlining. Make Venn Diagrams, or bulleted lists, or
whatever works for you, or little paragraphs, whatever works for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don't just sit in front of the word processor and try to
force yourself to come up with an interesting premise from whole cloth. Stop
trying so hard and start just imagining things to write, and embrace them,
because seriously, basically anything will work. That's how I do it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<h3>
<b><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">2.</span><span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">PLOTblock</span></b></h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
THE SECOND TYPE OF BLOCK is when you don't know what happens
NEXT in whatever you are writing. This one is super annoying. If this is what
you've got right now, I'm sorry, I feel you, man. It's just so painful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This too has some variations: Sometimes you’ll find you’ve written
yourself into a corner. The plot, situation, or characters refuse to follow the
outline, or cause an abrupt end to the narrative, or anything like that. Sometimes you just don't know how to get from
A to B. This is the hardest version of 'don't know what happens next' block,
which is the only proper version of the term 'writer's block,' in my humble
opinion.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only advice for when you've written yourself into a
corner is this: Stop whining. You've made a lot of work for yourself, haven't
you. Go back, select the source of the problem, and press DELETE. Brutal,
right? Don't want to do that? You're going to have to put in the work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Close the word processor, get out a notebook, and write any
possibility that come to mind, and scrutinize these ideas. Tear them down. Get
rid of the bad ones. A lot of beginning writers think that the act of writing
is some sort of genius/magic: It isn't. It's work. Hard work. Exhausting work.
You're going to have to sit there and write a bunch of ideas down and then tear
them apart. You’re going to be frustrated. You're going to have to examine
solutions, then examine the results of those solutions. You're going to have to
stomp around the house a bit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don't just shrug your shoulders and say "I can't think
of what happens next! Oh woe is me, where is my creative muse. YOU DON'T HAVE A
MUSE! You've got your brain. That's it. You may have to do research. You may
have to write several pages of possible plot ONLY TO CROSS IT ALL OUT. You may
have to READ THE WHOLE THING AGAIN. TWICE. Maybe, as luck would have it, buried
in the earlier pages there is a tiny little bit of information that could cause
the plot to move forward. Maybe there isn't. Maybe you'll have to go back in
and rewrite the fifth page so that the thirtieth can happen. But it's work.
Hard work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I mean it when I say this is the worst kind of writing
block, because it's the one that reminds you that writing is not easy, that it
is not necessarily 'Fun,' that sometimes you've got to approach writing exactly
like any other life problem: with conscious analysis of the options. It's a
chore, but if you're going to be successful, you've got to do it. GET TO WORK.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
<b><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">3.<span style="font-size: 9px;"> </span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">LAZYblock</span></b></h3>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
THE BEST TYPE OF WRITER’S BLOCK is when you just aren't 'Feeling' creative, as
in, you know what you want to write, and how you want to write it, but you just
don't want to. That's fine. The solution: DON'T WRITE. If you feel mentally
unable to write, then don't write. It's as simple as that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I find myself in this situation, but I want to do
something that makes me feel better about not writing, I do the things I should
be doing anyway, for example, I read a book with a critical eye. Thoughtful reading can do wonders for one’s
sense of creativity.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pay attention to the language, the manner in which the
author introduces information, the way they shape their dialogue. It can be especially fun and insightful to
examine a book you’ve already read, where you are familiar with the plot
already. Think of it as honing your
craft. By being thoughtful of the
structure and style of a story, you engrain your own mind, and therefore your
own writing, with a “bag of Tricks,” tools and tropes that could be useful or insightful
for your own creative endeavors.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It doesn’t have to be writing, either: thoughtful, critical viewing
of movies or TV shows, works just as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Often, when watching a movie, my mind starts to dwell on how
I would tell the story differently, or how I would modify the plot to be more
insightful, or more intense, or simply better.
I like to carefully examine the construction of narrative art and determine
which elements work and which feel sloppy, which I could borrow/adapt, and
which I will add to my bucket of cardinal sins.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, all this literary analysis sparks my own
creativity. I find myself moving from
analysis of someone else’s art, to analysis of my own. I can discover errors in my writing, or
sloppy clichés and tropes, or cut corners, or bad dialogue, etc. Soon, I’m itching to fix the problems, and
before I know it, I’m in front of the computer, typing away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
WHEN I HEAR ARTISTS TALKING about 'writer's block,' what I
usually discover is that they simply aren't willing to put in the work. As I
said earlier, a lot of novice writers think there is such a thing as a MUSE,
that just because a person declares themselves a writer they have some sort of
magic gift that allows them to come up with great ideas out of nowhere. It just
doesn't work that way. If it did, writers would all be millionaires, having
made fortunes in a field other than writing. No one is a 'Genius,' or rather,
Genius comes from hard work and dedication.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a nutshell: When you are feeling creatively drained, stop
trying so hard, stop trying to magically produce pages of writing, and start
doing the work. Start 'crafting.' Start 'story-boarding.' Fill a notebook (or
word processor page) with ideas. Don't "free-write." DON'T RELY ON
THE MUSE.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-16026240748528876572013-04-10T16:40:00.000-04:002013-04-10T16:45:49.289-04:00On finding the right place(s) to writeGet three writers together and ask where the best writing happens, and you'll likely get three different answers, or, sometimes more. I myself exclusively write in small, non-franchise coffee shops, like the <a href="http://www.bmorebohemian.com/">Bohemian</a> , or, when I lived in Michigan, the <a href="https://plus.google.com/117793089479658526748/about?gl=us&hl=en">Red Eye</a> . I find these environments exhilarating; I love the background noise, the randomness of the patrons, and the conversations that can crop up out of nowhere with people I've never met before. All the noise and activity invigorate me, and the conversation, while sometimes an unpleasant distraction, often stimulates me and brings me back to reality. After all, I'm writing about <i>people</i> , and the interaction with living, breathing humans can help keep my characters living and breathing on the page. Plus, there's <a href="http://global3.memecdn.com/Drink-Coffee_o_94079.jpg">coffee</a>, and anytime I want I can stand, go outside, and enjoy the weather.<br />
<br />
I've never been able to write in a quiet place; a library, a bookstore, and definitely not at home. Writing for me, in a way, is work, and like a job I must leave the comfort of my home if I am to do it at all. I must <i>go</i> to write, just as I have to go and make a living. <br />
<br />
As much as I love writing in coffee shops, it clearly isn't for everyone. One fellow writer, <a href="http://www.crackthespine.com/2012/09/issue-thirty-nine.html">Michael V. Gibson</a> does most of his work seated at his desk, in his bedroom, on a computer so old that it does not have an internet connection. The computer is <a href="http://brianne619.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/old-computer.jpg">so old</a> it is made out of that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bakelite">Bakelite-type</a> of yellow plastic stuff. It's so old that the keyboard and mouse are attached by wires. <a href="http://cdn.memegenerator.net/instances/400x/33276986.jpg">Wires!</a> As much as I cannot fathom how he gets anything done, he churns out some of the best and most insightful work I've ever read. <br />
<br />
I know <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cz_OiS9jrtk">another</a> that sits at his kitchen table and writes everything out longhand, then later takes the time to retype it into his computer. I don't know where he finds the time for that. But it works for him. His poetry is insightful, and far better than mine. <br />
<br />
And what about the <a href="http://ninjasandrobots.com/write-drunk-edit-sober">bar</a>? Yes, there are those that write over a pint in the middle of the night, and, I have to admit, I've done this myself, and found it refreshing, if you'll pardon the obvious pun. One author you may know, who sometimes writes at local pubs, <a href="http://underratedanimals.wordpress.com/">Timmy Reed</a> says that the best part of writing in at a bar is that "people will tell you what they really think." In his opinion, some of the best criticism comes from people that didn't want to listen to you in the first place. You know you wowed them if they don't tell you to 'fuck off.' I guess there's something to that. <br />
<br />
Myself, I can't write when I'm drunk, although it could be argued that I can't do it while sober, either, so the bar isn't going to work for me. <br />
<br />
The big question is, "does it matter where you write?" The big answer is, "<a href="http://www.isabevigodadead.com/">yes</a>." <br />
<br />
But not in that there is a "good" or "bad" place to write. What's important is does a particular place or type of place work help or hinder your efforts. If, in the process of writing, you find the dreaded block, consider moving to a new location. Normally write in a coffee shop? Go to the bar, or go home, or get out the notebook and ride the bus for a few hours. Having trouble? Leave the bar, head to a 24-hour diner, sober up, walk (don't drive) home, and try writing in the morning. Can't seem to focus at the kitchen table? Add some noise! Go out, write in the park, at the beach... too poor to go out? Pretend you're going out by listening to <a href="http://rainycafe.com/">ambient noise</a> . It's worth a shot, isn't it? Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-65704551226110121822013-03-06T20:55:00.000-05:002013-03-06T20:55:10.813-05:00AWP conference, BostonIt's time for the <a href="https://www.awpwriter.org/awp_conference/overview" target="_blank">Association of Writers and Writing Programs annual conference</a>, where would-be writers and publishers and agents come together to celebrate the craft, and network, network, network. Or at least that's what I've been told; this is my first time in attendance, and I will be wandering the crowds as a nobody-anyone-has-heard-of, another small fish in the big pond and so on and other analogies everyone's tired of hearing.<br />
<br />Boston is, of course, a wonderful town, or at least it would be if the sky could only decide which manner of precipitation to spatter upon my glasses. But then again a writer's favorite color is gray <a href="http://books.google.com/ngrams/graph?content=blue%2C+red%2C+yellow%2C+green%2C+purple%2C+gray%2C+orange&year_start=1800&year_end=2000&corpus=15&smoothing=3&share=" target="_blank">(or was it red?)</a> so perhaps it fits that clouds gather over the city.<br />
<br />
As for myself, the weather brought out my creative ambitions, and I was soon transported to a <a href="http://www.diesel-cafe.com/" target="_blank">local coffee shop</a>, and I, in a fit of ambition and boredom, wrote a short story in one sitting. It's called "Coda," and it does not take place in Boston, nor does it take place on a gray day. I like to draw my inspiration from the world that is not around me.<br />
<br />
As for the coffee shop: the crowd is nice, the price is nice, the music is nice... but it, unfortunately is no replacement for my <a href="http://www.bmorebohemian.com/" target="_blank">regular hangout</a> back in <a href="http://thatguysonheroin.com/" target="_blank">my fair city</a>. Truth be told, I miss my <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/red-eye-caffe-saginaw" target="_blank">old hangout</a> back in my <a href="http://img.groundspeak.com/waymarking/display/3efc1b77-5054-4abc-a860-07434b906e2e.jpg" target="_blank">old fair city</a>; I have fond memories of sitting out front, smoking cigarettes and chatting about all manner of things with the <a href="http://media.mlive.com/saginawnews/photo/-eb8233ef42bf4b2d.JPG" target="_blank">best people I've ever met...</a><br />
<br />The last time I was in Boston I explored the ins-and-outs along with my favorite person, but this time, I am here alone, and it has been a long time since I wandered American streets without a companion. It is both liberating and lonely to be just one of the crowd in someone else's town, although part of me suspects that the natives are aware that I do not belong. Perhaps it is my scent. I must be cautious if I am to observe them undetected.<br /><br />If, by chance or by design, you should find yourself in Boston, you should consider attending the AWP Conference. And, if, again by chance or design, you attend the AWP Conference, you should check out the <a href="http://www.cobaltreview.com/" target="_blank">Cobalt Review</a>, <a href="http://www.pageturnpro.com/Progress-Printing/48751-2013-Conference-Planner/index.html#14" target="_blank">table Y16</a>, and say hello to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Participants-Short-Fiction-Andrew-Keating/dp/0615659942" target="_blank">Andrew Keating</a>. Buy his book (if you like) or a copy of Cobalt or <a href="http://ampersandreview.com/" target="_blank">Ampersand.</a> Another stop should be <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Cardinal-Sins/260893020611" target="_blank">Cardinal Sins</a>, at table R16. I've been published in that latter one... although not anytime recently. Pick up a copy anyway. <br />
<br />
And if you happen to see me walking around, say hello, and (if you like) we'll ditch the thing and go get a drink.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0Hynes Convention Center Station, Boston, MA 02115, USA42.347888 -71.08790299999998316.825853499999997 -112.39649699999998 67.8699225 -29.779308999999984tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-17018259053347080922013-02-20T12:34:00.000-05:002013-02-20T12:34:17.031-05:00Crack The Spine Winter Anthology available on AmazonCrack the Spine has just released their 2013 <a href="http://www.crackthespine.com/2013/02/crack-spine-winter-2013-anthology.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+CrackTheSpine+%28Crack+The+Spine%29">Winter Anthology</a>. While I'm not personally in this issue, I can't help but give a shout out to the folks there; after all they've put out two of my short stories. There are lots of great writers featured in this anthology, most of all Michael V. Gibson, a great writer and friend of mine. If you haven't read his work, now's your chance! <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0988978202/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_il_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0988978202&linkCode=as2&tag=crathespi-20">Get your copy here!</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-71184619926268576722013-02-13T14:20:00.001-05:002013-02-13T14:24:59.058-05:00'Firebug' in Crack the Spine Issue FiftyIf you haven't bookmarked Crack the Spine yet you've been missing out one some of the best writing on the internet. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Okay, maybe I'm just saying that because the good folks there have published yet another of my short stories, but maybe I'm saying that because it is always a good read and always worth the time. So go read my short story, "Firebug," and then read the rest of the stories. Brian Hobbs' "My Pall" is a favorite, but the whole issue is good.<br />
<br />
Check it out: <a href="http://www.crackthespine.com/2013/01/issue-fifty.html">Crack the Spine Issue Fifty</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-80619845717641122322012-07-06T01:47:00.000-04:002012-07-06T01:48:36.180-04:00Nate the Clown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UX3Nw2bXIhY/T_Z7bmmGOkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/5qD7ey99oTs/s1600/Nate+The+Clown.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UX3Nw2bXIhY/T_Z7bmmGOkI/AAAAAAAAAFM/5qD7ey99oTs/s320/Nate+The+Clown.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-83479209298468703992012-07-04T16:10:00.000-04:002012-07-04T16:10:38.558-04:00New Artwork<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wxWTLc4CT_0/T_Sib8doauI/AAAAAAAAAE8/SGjABupSEag/s1600/Doorway.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wxWTLc4CT_0/T_Sib8doauI/AAAAAAAAAE8/SGjABupSEag/s320/Doorway.png" width="320" /></a></div>
More of my faffing about with fake depth-of-field and color manipulation; there are actually about twenty layers in this photo, changing it from a rather bland picture to something that "pops" quite a bit more. I love washing out colors to achieve a restricted-palate look, without actually restricting the palate, which I think causes the picture to look flat and artificial.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-5916319073856084832012-06-26T10:55:00.001-04:002012-07-04T16:14:20.852-04:00Mud<br />
<br />
Like all native Michiganders, I am obsessed with the weather, much to the chagrin of the locals, who seem not to notice the changes in temperature, wind, humidity, or cloud cover, as if the world around them was so unfathomable that to even question whether it would rain or not would be to invite the Mountains of Madness. Nonetheless, I am pleased to report that the mercury will only reach the mid-eighties today, a respite from the oppressive high nineties and early hundreds that have defined June in the Charm City. There is a cool wind from the north, which smells faintly of fresh lining; 'tis an auspicious day for the writer, the poet, or the musician, who can now safely commit themselves to their crafts without worry of mental fog.<br />
<br />
The heat robs the imagination, causes the mind to see only that which is apparent, only that which lays upon the surface of the world. In the heat, the buildings; the row-houses, the towers, the skyscrapers, the train-stations, the derelict and the new; become nothing but piles of stone, like the abodes of mud-wasps or the hills of ants, nothing more than the piling of rock and stone and the earth, albeit in the human manner, with steep sides and the illusion of destiny. In the blue haze of summer on can fully understand with even a glance that bricks are merely chunks of mud cut and stacked, that stonework is nothing but stone scraped and chiseled, that even the concrete of the street is nothing beyond the rock of the earth poured into place. In the June heat, the world of mankind becomes nothing but the stacking of the earth upon itself in the strange notion that it is somehow better to do so, that the act itself is more lofty that laying in a field of dirt and muck. In the heat, mankind's problems seem less than petty: they are incomprehensible, the plights of ants, the daily worries of bees, the arguments of cockroaches. In the heat, I cannot care about anything.<br />
<br />
But today is a cool day, at least compared to the new normal, and my mind is active again. Now again I see how important sky-scrapers, towers, row-houses, train-stations, the old and the new, are and what they signify. I can understand again why some men do not like other men, why life can be difficult, why I should care about art or writing or music. Bricks have become, once again, the divine tool of humans, used to subjugate, control, and direct the destiny of themselves and their planet. Bless the cool summer day, and damn the mindless heat.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-69728941341917330272012-06-01T20:50:00.002-04:002012-06-01T20:52:51.271-04:00The Love of My Life, Rachel Wooley, has opened up an Etsy site for her handmade books and jewelry. Pick up a tree pendant! <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/SilverSpangles">Check it out!</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-22363936580936498862012-05-31T19:25:00.002-04:002012-06-01T20:52:21.744-04:00My short story "Someone Else's Life" has been published online by Crack the Spine! <a href="http://www.crackthespine.com/2012/05/issue-twenty-six.html">Click here to read it!</a> There is a possibility that the story will appear in their quarterly print edition, which should come out later this summer. Leave a comment at their website if you think my story should be on paper. Or if you like it, or if you like any of the other stories! Writers love hearing from readers. Good or bad.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18177753980987571285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-22950223985040040882008-11-30T23:27:00.000-05:002012-05-31T20:01:29.418-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/STNoFvvD5eI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Y7HEoxkdHmo/s1600-h/311+Sales.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274674036503471586" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/STNoFvvD5eI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Y7HEoxkdHmo/s400/311+Sales.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""311 Sales" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/STNoFDE8meI/AAAAAAAAABs/kyHOUZbTlG4/s1600-h/303+Adams.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274674024515672546" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/STNoFDE8meI/AAAAAAAAABs/kyHOUZbTlG4/s400/303+Adams.jpg" style="display: block; height: 291px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""303 Adams" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a><br />
Here are a few more photo-shop Tilt-shift photographs. I like the effect even if the results do not look like minatures. I think that it is interesting how the blurring effect draws the eye into certain parts of the picture- I can point your attention wherever I want it.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-73110513951920450762008-11-19T13:15:00.001-05:002012-05-31T20:00:14.457-04:00More Fake Tilt-Shift Photography<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY99p9YlI/AAAAAAAAABk/dqKaMBoYpPA/s1600-h/Pile.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270435285476139602" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY99p9YlI/AAAAAAAAABk/dqKaMBoYpPA/s400/Pile.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""Pile" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY9ayAbOI/AAAAAAAAABc/I1wUQzPnizM/s1600-h/Ippels.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270435276114652386" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY9ayAbOI/AAAAAAAAABc/I1wUQzPnizM/s400/Ippels.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""Ippels" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY9IO1MSI/AAAAAAAAABU/vZmU8P80h08/s1600-h/Coveback.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270435271135277346" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY9IO1MSI/AAAAAAAAABU/vZmU8P80h08/s400/Coveback.jpg" style="display: block; height: 283px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""Coveback" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY852tugI/AAAAAAAAABM/1yF8xCuLSA0/s1600-h/Captain%27s+Cove.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270435267276028418" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SSRY852tugI/AAAAAAAAABM/1yF8xCuLSA0/s400/Captain%27s+Cove.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""Captain's Cove" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a>I have done some more fake Tilt-Shift Photography - I really like the effect that this technique yields. The important thing is to get up high - I need to look into getting more elevated for future experiments.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-49534819692998719702008-11-10T18:30:00.000-05:002012-05-31T20:03:21.542-04:00Tilt-Shift Photography<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SRjFEPDe3FI/AAAAAAAAABE/_1WvxPlJRp0/s1600-h/Area+Closed.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267176440761080914" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SRjFEPDe3FI/AAAAAAAAABE/_1WvxPlJRp0/s400/Area+Closed.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""Area Closed" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SRjFDtKn9ZI/AAAAAAAAAA8/lejkLr9LTwc/s1600-h/warning+persons+possessing.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267176431664231826" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SRjFDtKn9ZI/AAAAAAAAAA8/lejkLr9LTwc/s400/warning+persons+possessing.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" title=""Warning Persons Possessing" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a>I have been playing around with using photo-shop to create Tilt-shift photography with some nice results. I don't have anything that looks all that miniature but the effect is quite startling. I like how I can focus the audience's eyes by changing the depth of field. <br />
I think I am going to play around with this technique some more.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-49724376014499191862008-09-16T14:38:00.000-04:002012-05-31T20:04:04.453-04:00Colors and a Lightpost<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SM_9mPATTFI/AAAAAAAAAA0/BE49_ux1eq0/s1600-h/Guidelight.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246690924214570066" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_e3U802WepRw/SM_9mPATTFI/AAAAAAAAAA0/BE49_ux1eq0/s400/Guidelight.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" title=""Guidelight" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-67096704843669134272008-07-18T00:04:00.000-04:002008-07-18T00:12:29.172-04:00How to get paint out of carpetAbout a year ago I accidentally over-sprayed enamel model paint onto my apartment carpet; now it is time to move out, and time to clean up. <br /><br />I hear nail-polish remover (acetone) works well, but I didn't have any one hand. I also didn't have Goo-Gone, Gojo, or anything else fancy like that. <br /><br />I did have WD-40. Good stuff.<br /><br />Turns out the stuff easily takes the paint out. Just spray it liberally onto the carpet, then scrub vigorously with a wet rag. Repeat. Soap on the rag doesn't hurt.<br /><br />Let it dry and do it again until the paint is gone. If you have a carpet cleaner (one of those water vacuum things), use that to remove the residue, or else just rinse it and soak it up with paper towels and suck it up with a bag-less vacuum.<br /><br />That is one moving day crisis averted, and one deposit saved. Go team!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-52458046810408508532008-07-16T19:22:00.000-04:002012-05-31T20:04:48.894-04:00The River on the 4th<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SH6EGguXrzI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cSPihXELoIE/s1600-h/Celebration+River.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223757865194860338" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SH6EGguXrzI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cSPihXELoIE/s400/Celebration+River.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" title=""Celebration River" by Jacob Ferrier" /></a><br />
Every year the entire population of Saginaw Township forgets that they don't like the city and swarms the place to watch some stuff explode. Then they leave, back to their rich houses out in the sprawl.<br />
<br />
Most of them are rude.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-81404329735121041112008-07-16T00:53:00.000-04:002008-07-16T01:01:29.377-04:001972 Schwinn Suburban<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SH1_GjO7PpI/AAAAAAAAAAg/S5Tm0r-tWck/s1600-h/1970%27s+Suburban.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SH1_GjO7PpI/AAAAAAAAAAg/S5Tm0r-tWck/s400/1970%27s+Suburban.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223470893333429906" border="0" /></a>I recently acquired my father's old bike - an early 70's Schwinn Suburban. Since I often Bike to work (or just Bike for the exercise) I figured it would be worth fixing this up. It is hard to tell but the whole thing is rusted pretty badly and is missing its derailleur. I have one that I think is correct but it needs a lot of work.<br /><br />I managed to get the thing mostly apart but their are a few pieces that refuse to budge and a few screws that just won't come out - even after copious amounts of WD-40 and chain-oil. <br /><br />I think that I will get it rolling first and then re-paint it over the winter. I am thinking that it might look nicer in the light blue color rather than the brown that it has here. But that is for later.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-64184870316982378592008-07-15T12:55:00.000-04:002008-07-15T12:59:37.816-04:00Signs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SHzW5yfXgII/AAAAAAAAAAY/MlJxtU4l-Fw/s1600-h/P1010547.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SHzW5yfXgII/AAAAAAAAAAY/MlJxtU4l-Fw/s400/P1010547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223285956137156738" border="0" /></a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168849466296497715.post-59635697000466411592008-07-15T12:19:00.000-04:002008-07-15T12:43:32.530-04:00Sunrise in Saginaw<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SHzSdCH2pFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5YlRzWBBT7o/s1600-h/Sunrise+Mirror+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 334px; height: 222px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_e3U802WepRw/SHzSdCH2pFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5YlRzWBBT7o/s320/Sunrise+Mirror+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223281064070784082" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0