My Three Songs: 11/10/10

1. Rush - Limelight (from "Moving Pictures")
2. Bon Jovi - Runaway
3. Aerosmith -  Train Kept A-Rollin'

Theme :: Unstoppable, the new movie about a runaway train, starring Denzel Washington and Chris Pine.  The film hits theaters this Friday.

Chapter 83.3: Summer in the City

The streets of New York City stink of garbage this morning. Scents of fish and piss and withering whatchamacallit grab onto the sticky humid air and embed themselves deep into people's nostrils. The occasional open door at this hour already has the air conditioner blasting out onto the sidewalk — an all too brief respite as I continue walking groggily to work.

I slept well on the train this morning as a pretty woman in a sundress read her Jodi Picoult beside me. Dreams of babies crying and parents consoling them. Diaper and feed.

I need my coffee. I need to sit for a minute or two. I need to clear the air. Welcome back, summer.

Chapter 75.7: Blogs From the Past

Last night I dreamed I had a blog that I'd forgotten. (Actually, I do have one I no longer show and another that I can't find any more. These things are like ex-girlfriends.) [Author's note: After I posted this item and the image, there was a very disturbing story about some depraved stalker of Uma Thurman. It sounds like that man needs help, and I hope people leave poor Uma alone.]

In the dream, I pondered what I might write about in this newly re-discovered blog, why had I abandoned it, what long neglected story threads might I string back together...

Last night on the train, I did what I said I'd do: I worked on my book. It felt good, though I realized somewhere between Maplewood and Millburn that I need to pay closer attention to where I am or I might not have time to get off the train with my laptop intact.

I believe the dream was a sign to me to continue writing, to reawaken my thoughts. I'm sinking into myself again, I suspect. I apologize for all the self-centered blog posts that may follow.

Chapter 75.6: Making Progress

Inspired by a conversation with my brother this weekend and encouraged by miserable Sunday weather, I returned to the revisions of my novel -- untouched for nearly two months but very much in my mind. While it may be difficult for me to meet my self-imposed April 30th deadline for making my changes, I feel fairly certain that I'll be able to meet my other deadline of reaching out to agents before the end of May.

If you're on a New Jersey Transit train at the end of the work day and see a guy tapping away on his computer, it may be me.

Chapter 75.1: All Right, Already!

I swear, ever since my birthday I've had odd little reminders that it's time for me to seriously pursue my intended career writing fiction. There's the aforementioned receipt of an Irish-American encyclopedia that includes three pieces I wrote. Then there were other reminders that popped up about an editor I've worked with in the past and a profile subject who contacted me about her upcoming book signing.

The writer, who I'll interview this weekend, writes historical fiction set during the American Revolution. I've interviewed her before and she's been a wonderful resource for marketing materials that I might use as a template for my own novels. More importantly, she loves the era she writes about and there's nothing better than interviewing people who really has a passion for what they do.

Then I ended up sitting on the train next to a lawyer who's written a novel and is working on his second and is also shopping a screenplay that he wrote with his brother. He and I chatted a bit about finding agents [he has one that he found via a client], our mutual love of writing and our particular ways of writing -- he compiles entire folders, like case briefs, of characters, for example -- as his client [who looked guilty to me] listened inattentively.

But my point is that I feel like there's been an element of divine intervention involved in the scant days since my birthday: a reminder that the window of opportunity for my becoming a published novelist of not just one but several books is starting to close. Intuitively, I know that it doesn't happen without my putting the time in. I've written the book. People have read it, enjoyed it, and suggested ways to make it better. I've made lots of edits to improve it. It's almost ready. But I need to start shopping it around. Soon.

I'm reminded of that joke about the guy who's drowning and several boats come by and offer help, but the guy keeps saying: "No, God will save me." I think I've gotten the message.

Chapter 51.5: Memories (Context Is Everything)

Went to my high school reunion last night. For most of these people, I'd not seen them in decades. I haven't missed most of them either -- nor have they missed me. On countless faces, I saw the look of "who is that guy?" and it's not just because I've grown a beard since then. I was a face in the hallway for dozens of these people -- mostly the girls, for whom I was neither popular enough to care about nor good looking enough to go out of their way to know. I felt a little puerile not speaking with some of them this weekend. After all, it's been many years. But I hadn't liked their type then and if for only one night, they were those kids I didn't like all over again.

Some of my old friends had forgotten things or conveniently decided not to let them back into a conversation. That's fine. I understand. Many of us remember where the land mines are placed. And not every person believes an experience is for learning.

But things were still different. I'm a happily married man who doesn't need the approval of my classmates. And some of the kids I had secretly detested were nice, upstanding parents now. We had conversations. No promises of keeping in touch or anything fake like that. Just being friendly. Like someone I'd meet at the train station. And when my stop arrives, I'll do what I have to do and move along.