SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN

Tomorrow I'll be speaking to students taking a Wisconsin Literature class at an area high school. Two of my books, "The Feast of Catchville" and "Swaybuck" are part of the class curriculum, and as such they've asked me to come as a guest speaker.

In going over some notes from previous times I've done this sort of thing, I was rediscovering just how Wild West the profession of "AUTHOR" has become over the last few years. It was only a few months ago that e-books outsold paperbacks on Amazon for the very first time in history.

This is huge, folks.

I'm one of the "old timers" who never, ever thought anything big would come of those new fangled e-reading devices. (Kinda like that whole internet fad.) But apparently I couldn't have been more wrong. Ebooks are on the rise, and as such, more books than ever are going to be available to the reading public.

Is that a good thing?

No.

And yes.

As old Ben would say, "It all depends on your point of view."

No, it won't be a good thing because anyone with a limited head for tech will be able to "publish" their writing on their own independent "imprints" with minimal effort and have it as accessible as reputable works.

Yes, it'll be a good thing because anyone with a limited head for tech will be able to "publish" their writing on their own independent "imprints" with minimal effort and have it as accessible as reputable works.

I recently listened to a series of discussions with Rod Serling in which he spoke at length about writers and writing. In one of them, he spoke about young writers not wallowing through years of "paying dues" if what they had to say was important, well thought out, well executed, and interesting. Too many times writers were being looked at as inexperienced because they hadn't cut their teeth on a hundred short story sales to magazine markets.

I disagree with what Rod was saying there.

And I agree with him.

Clearly, it's nice to think that we, as writers, really did have something unique and interesting to say in our first books, and that what we did have to say was worthy of being read by anyone who was interested. At the same time, perhaps many of us were saved from embarrassment by the very fact that what we wrote the first time out wasn't deemed worthy of being read by any and all by those that guard the keys to "being read": editors, publishers, et al.

Magazine markets.

Now there's an interesting prospect.

There once was a time when a writer could tap his fingers raw and make thirty or forty bucks a week writing three or four stories for the magazine market, and that thirty or forty bucks a week was enough for rent on a room, a little food, some smokes, some drinks, and some typewriter ribbon.

Fast forward to the twenty-first century.

The rates for the work haven't changed much, but the cost of living has. I do not know of a writer that started out in the last decade that could afford to live on writing alone when they started out. The economics of it just don't work. The digital revolution hasn't changed the economic viability of short stories - in fact, by and far, the majority of online "zines" are strangely called "for the love" markets, in that they won't pay you a dime, but boy oh boy, your story will be in pixelized "print" - the internet equivalent of Broadway's "up in lights." These days, you'd do better to start your own website and post your stories there, something more and more writers are realizing is easily within their capability.

But what about being a paid Author? you ask. How does that happen? How do you achieve that? How can I make enough money to live on simply by writing and selling stories?

Good question.

And the answer goes something like this: Be original. You write fantasy stories? So do a hundred thousand other people. You need to set yourself apart from the get go... and I don't just mean on paper. I'm talking about image. I'm talking about creating, maintaining and selling a BRAND. Sounds crass, don't it? Oh, don't get me wrong, your writing has to be on the money, so to speak. You've gotta have some talent and be able to spin a grand yarn.

But there's more to it than that.

You can no longer be an introvert and a succesful writer in the twenty-first century.

Let me say that again in case you weren't listening, You can no longer be an introvert and a successful writer in the twenty-first century.

You HAVE to be out there selling your BRAND. And when I say "out there" - I mean literally and digitally. You need to attend Conventions and book signings and lectures, and when you do, YOU NEED TO MAKE THE MOST OF THEM. People must, must, must remember who you were and what you do. People must remember that you had a spark, that there was something special, something unique about you. How you do this is entirely up to you, but you have to do it. You must have an INTENSE, DAILY web presence. You must frequent the places that your readers frequent. You must blog. You must tweet. You must make yourself known in a huge way to the masses.

Consistently.

There's a reason that there are endless MacDonalds and Coke commercials: Everpresence. You are constantly in the mind of your consumers. You are there whenever they need you.

Admittedly, all of the above is a tall order and not for the faint of heart, but it's all true. I haven't accomplished it by a long shot. I've found that there are other things in life that I wish to do beyond writing, and as such, I'm perfectly fine with not making a living at it. My goals are such that I want to write the stories that I want to write, and leave it at that. I hope many, many future generations enjoy them, and that I'll briefly be able to infect their minds and affect the way they think about things. That will be good enough for me.

At any rate, back to my original point. The profession of Writing is truly in a "Wild West" phase at present. The advent of the Ipad and tablet computers have already infected children's books to the point where the reader can push certain buttons while reading the story to activate all sorts of fun and educational "accessories." It will not be long before these sorts of things infect the adult e-book market, eventually blending the reading experience with the auditory, and the auditory with the cinematic. A blending of formerly multiple professions into possibly a solitary one.

Exciting and adventurous, both.

And scary.

The world is moving faster than ever. I hope the young can keep up, for I'm not certain that I'll be able to.

Best of luck.

STILL HERE

Question: How do you know that you haven't written a blog post in a long, long time?

Answer: You forget the password to get into your blog posts.

I haven't gone through and read the last few posts I'd written, but I'm sure that they'd all do some apologizing for not posting in a very long time, and then go on to promise more frequent posts.

Let's not fall into that trap again, shall we.

I'm currently sitting in my blissfully quiet office listening to the wind howling outside the window. We've been treated to a few days of well above normal temperatures, and tomorrow we're dropping back down into the mid-twenties - normal temps for mid-February in Northern Wisconsin.

Let's start with what I've been reading.

Over Christmas, I received "The Complete Sherlock Holmes" and Volume II of Neil Gaiman's "Absolute Sandman."

I'm loathe to admit that I've never read any of Arthur Conan Doyle's famous mysteries before now. I'd always intended to, but just never got around to it. Then, shortly before Christmas, I was listening to an interview with Harlan Ellison, in which, on an Ellison-esque rant on religion, he happened to mention A.C.D.'s collection of Sherlock Holmes stories, claiming that if ANYone wanted to be smart, all they had to do was read the stories, and understand what Doyle was telling you about observation and inference. I thought to myself, "hey, you could stand to be a bit smarter," and here we are.

I'm about halfway through the Holmes stories and have enjoyed them immensely. Certainly, I've learned much, but what really surprised me about the tales is how much fun they are. Sherlock Holmes is a hoot, as is Watson in his role as straight man. The book is good fun, and I can highly recommend it before I've even finished it.

The other book I'm reading - (I've been bouncing back and forth between the two as they're both collections) - is Volume II of the Absolute version of Neil Gaiman's "Sandman." I was lucky enough to receive Volume I a few years ago, and again, it was the first time I'd ever ventured into the Sandman series. (Am I one of the only people in the world to come to Gaiman through the novels BEFORE the comics?) The Sandman is, of course, simply amazing. It's one of those things that even when you're in the midst of reading it for the first time, you realize you're reading something special. Something like a masterwork. At any rate, it's good fun, and I also pleasured myself by re-reading the first volume before starting this one. Amazing stories. Amazing mythos. Good times.

Now then, what are we writing these days?

The same thing I've been working on for what seems like the last few years.

"Delving: Culminations" is the toughest book I've ever had to write. A big reason for that is self imposed pressure, I suppose. I'm very proud of the first two Delving books, and as such I want to make absolutely sure that the final chapter of the trilogy holds up to the standard set in place by the first two.

I'd actually written almost the entire book in 2008 when I came to the conclusion that that version of the book didn't measure up to the rest of the series. I toyed with the idea of taking snippets of the book and rearranging them, but then thought that that would be cheating myself and you out of a good story. Instead, I trashed the whole thing and started fresh.

And then the hard drive crashed, and yours truly was too idiotic to have things backed up...

But let's not speak of bad memories. Lessons were learned - the hard way - and we do things differently now.

The book is going well. The characters you and I know so well are doing some surprising things. A certain Mr. Graff shows up in a big way, fresh from the pages of "Exile: The Collected Helman Graff." It's going to be a great book. It's due in late spring, and I'm hoping Stone Garden will be able to release it this summer.

What else...

Oh, I'm in the process of starting a company, but as this blog centers on the writing stuff, we'll veer away from that part of my life for the moment.

At any rate, I'm here. And that's a good thing. I had a pretty good scare involving a brain scan and some vision loss not too long ago, but maybe we'll save that story for next time.

"Exile" for Kindle

"Exile: The Collected Helman Graff" is now available for the Kindle from Amazon.com.

"Exile..." contains ten short stories featuring Helman Graff, a character popularized in my first book, "The Feast of Catchville." Each one of the stories features illustrations by Nate Fehlauer, and all of those illustrations are included in the Kindle version.

I've been told that more of my books will be available for the Kindle very soon, and I'll of course give you a heads up when that time comes.

Here's the link for the Kindle version of "Exile..."
http://www.amazon.com/Exile-Collected-Helman-Graff-ebook/dp/B004A156JA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1288753628&sr=8-2

ALL HALLOW'S READ

Recently some guy named Neil Gaiman came up with a great idea that I've taken a definite shine to, and it's cool enough that I'd like to pass it along to you as well.

The idea is simple. Gaiman's named it "All Hallow's Read," and all it entails is giving your friends and family members a scary book on Halloween.

You know, as the years progress and my library size increases, it never ceases to amaze me how I can always encounter a new horror novel that I've never, ever heard of each time I go to a great book store, a thrift shop, a garage sale, or what have you. With that in mind, no matter how well read in the topic your friends or relatives might be, there's always something out there that they haven't read. Guaranteed.

Of course, it's almost more fun when it comes to your friends and family members that aren't all that well versed in the genre. Herein lies the perfect opportunity to present them with the cream of the crop, the must reads, the books that will assure them little to no sleep on the last night before November reigns.

So, whatever your situation presents you with, All Hallow's Read sounds like a kickass way to celebrate Halloween. Kudos Neil for coming up with it. I'm celebrating, and I hope you will too!

Here's a link to Neil's original idea: http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2010/10/modest-proposal-that-doesnt-actually.html

Twenty-Two Years and Counting

All right, let's go back a ways. Let's go back twenty-two years to when I was an innocent fifteen-year old. Someone, and for the life of me I can't remember exactly who, borrowed me a cassette tape called "Garage Days Re-revisited" by a band called Metallica.

Up to that point, my musical tastes had been largely banal. Nick at Nite told me that the Monkees were pretty "swell" - and I loved listening to them. I'd dipped my toes into the Bon Jovi and Guns N' Roses well a bit too, but I wasn't head over heels into them like some of my peers.

Then came Garage Days. When I heard that first Hetfield hum at the beginning of "Helpless" followed by Lars' ensuing drum beat, I was interested, but it was the Krunch that got me; that metal guitar Krunch that I became instantly addicted to and haven't been able to shake for almost a quarter of a century.

I bought "...And Justice for All" a few days after hearing "Garage Days," and I can remember lying on my bed, listening to the "Blackened" intro, looking at the four guys wearing black on the folded out tape insert, and wanting to be them. I remember listening to and reading the lyrics, lyrics more intense and intelligent than any I'd ever heard before. Lyrics filled with anger and honesty, lyrics filled with powerful disdain. At fifteen, this band was just what I needed. I worked my way back through Metallica's catalogue, picking up "Ride the Lightning," and "Master of Puppets," and "Kill 'em All."

Oh, those were good times.

I started wearing black. I started drawing poor imitations of Pushead skulls on my notebooks at school and on the bottom of my skateboard. I learned how to play bass and formed a band with some friends.

As I said, Good Times.

Metallica was my gateway band into the thrash metal world.This was all before the internet, kids, and when you wanted to find out what was going on in the world of your favorite band, you had to pick up Metal magazines at the newstand, which I quickly did to keep up with the Cap'n's of Krunch. In the process my eyes were opened to Anthrax, Megadeth, Slayer, Danzig, Suicidal Tendencies, Pantera, D.R.I., the Misfits, and so many more. I'd found my musical niche, a niche that perfectly reflected my attitudes and sensibilities. For a misfit that didn't know where to look for camaraderie and community, Thrash was a godsend. The music gave me a spark of identity, and the courage to do whatever I wanted without fear of scorn.

Okay. Fast forward twenty-two years to August of 2010. I went over to St. Paul with a friend of mine to see Testament, Megadeth, and Slayer live at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium. Before the show, Dave Mustaine, the lead singer and guitar virtuoso of Megadeth was siging his autobiography at a Borders in Minneapolis.

Despite what anyone thinks about Mustaine's demeanor or attitude, no one can dispute that he is one of the founders of the thrash movement, so I was stoked to meet him at the signing. After standing in line for close to two hours, I finally got up to the table and said, "Hello, Dave."

"Hello, Scotty." - (my name was on a post-it in the book)

"Just wanted to say that I really like your music. I've been listening to you guys and thrash metal in general for twenty-two years."

At this point, Dave stopped signing and thought for a moment before saying: "Twenty-two years. That's a long time, man."

I smiled. "Yes. It is."

"Well thanks for your support, Scott. I really appreciate it."

"Sure man. Have a great show."

And that was that. My encounter with Dave Mustaine. It was cool. Later that night, Megadeth put on a good show, and Slayer killed - no pun intended.

At thirty-seven years old, I like lots of different kinds of music. I listen to everything from Johnny Cash to Gwen Stefani to Lagwagon. And I still listen to Thrash Metal. And it's still my favorite.

WGO or 9ML!!!!

So we'll title this one either "What's Going ON?" or "Nine Months Later..." - either one would work.

I see in the last post I was giving a laundry list of reasons why I wasn't blogging more. I suppose I could do that again, or I could just blog.

So what's going on? In the writing world, I continue to work on the final Delving book. Beyond that, well, everything is up in the air. There were a few other projects on deck, though whether or not they'll get written is really something TBD - that's to be determined.

What's happening in the larger writing world is certainly worth commenting on. It seems that Leisure has all but folded. When I first got into the professional writing racket almost a decade ago, Leisure was a company to shoot for. Now I'm hearing via all the author-written obits that the pub wasn't so esteemed behind closed doors. Let me say that they did a decent job of keeping that fact hidden from prying eyes. Wait a minute, before I get a deluge of hate mail, let me clarify something: a lot of my favorite authors have written books that I've loved under the Leisure banner. However, I didn't read everything Leisure put out, and apparently some "critics" have stated that not everything that Leisure put out was noteworthy. I guess you could really say that about any house, however, so perhaps the point is moot.

Everyone is talking about E Readers: "What's the price point going to be?" "Will the Ipad topple the Kindle?" "The conventional book is dead." "The Big Chains will fold because of the ebook."

The funny part is, I've never seen anyone sitting around reading an ebook. Perhaps I just live in an "e" resistant part of the country. Perhaps not.

I listened to a Studio 360 podcast yesterday in which Johnathon Franzen was interviewed. He stated that he thought the stagnation and loss of steam the white house was experiencing over the last six months only confirmed the fear that the country was "ungovernable". I thought that statement was genius.

I watched a Monster Quest program earlier this afternoon about crocodiles, and their return to power. A prehistoric crocodile, essentially the exact same model as the current crocodile, only forty feet long, fed on dinosaurs. When the dinosaurs died out, so did the "super" croc. Now, however, crocs are rising in both population and size again. Interesting program.

Contrary to popular opinion, I'm NOT going to be a Yeti for Halloween. If you think you can guess what I will be, take a shot.

There is a MOOSE on the horizon, and I can't wait to unleash it on you. More on the MOOSE project later.

Apparently I'm in a band again. We've named the outfit "Looking For Two's" and it's a compilation of my old friends, Jed (the Colorado Kid) and Aaron (the Original Duluth Shredder) and Pete, the brains behind the beast. I'm playing bass mostly, but guitar on a few tunes. So far we've got a wedding and two bar gigs booked. Sweet.

This has been fun. I hope you've enjoyed it. Let's do it again, soon.

Let's Start Blogging

Heh. Let's start blogging!

It seems that I haven't posted a blog in a few months - since early October, I guess - and I was trying to figure out why. I guess the biggest reason is Twitter. Most of what I've been doing - which hasn't been a lot, I admit - I've posted over on Twitter - http://twitter.com/ScottFalkner

There's also been a lot of nonwriting things happening in my life - which didn't seem to make sense to post on TDC, but there have also been a lot of pertinent things going on, which I just didn't get around to posting on TDC.

At any rate, I apologize for my absence here, and will do my best to get back on track.

To that end, what's going on?

Writing-wise, I'm working on the third and final Delving book, "Delving: Culminations." As some of you may remember, I wrote the book last year but wasn't thrilled with the result. Deadlines and personal obstacles (moving) interfered to result in a book that I felt wasn't up to snuff, so to speak. That said, I fully intended to revise it and bring it up to the high standard set in place by the first two books, when my computer crashed. Guess what? You really, really, really should back up your files. Especially when you've got a couple of novels on your hard drive. Anyway, the crying and moping is done over those lost stories, and we move on. So. I'm writing the third volume of Delving which will be available from Stone Garden Books in 2010. If you haven't checked out the first two books, "Delving: Obligations" and "Delving: Assassins" - I strongly suggest you ask for them for Christmas as they would make wonderful holiday reads. Find out where to get them online at http://www.scottfalkner.com/ or ask for them at your favorite independent book store.

Speaking of http://www.scottfalkner.com/, Ren and I have been bouncing around ideas for a site redo to kick off the new year with. We're thinking something simpler and sleeker. Something that won't require you to dig for info on what you want to know about. I've really liked the design we've had for the last three or four years, but I think something more relavent to the style of stories I've been writing would be good.

What else?

Ah, here's something. Last month my wife and I were able to go over to St. Paul to see Stephen King at the Fitzgerald Theater. He was interviewed for the Minnesota Public Radio series, "Talking Volumes."

Wow.

What an experience. With a humor and wisdom you'd expect, he spoke about writing, (duh) focusing primarily on "Under the Dome," his latest opus. My wife and I scored second row seats, so we were up close for the entire show, (THANKS HELLNOTES - http://www.hellnotes.com/ - for the heads-up on the appearance). I decided to play the part of "Fan" instead of "Author" for the event, and smiled ear to ear as one of the best writers of our age answered questions a mere twenty feet away. I was even enough of a fanboy to yell out "Thank you, Steven!" as he was walking off stage after the event, and Mr. King looked right at me, pointed, and smiled. To top it off, I won a theater lottery to get one of 200 signed copies of "Under the Dome." Bonus!

Fanboy? Maybe Fangirl is more like it. Who cares? I had a BLAST. Thanks Steven for coming to the Midwest.

You can find youtube video of practically the entire event. Here's an addy to get you started: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agGuYCmJIIw&videos=2X-NNkmhpl4&playnext_from=TL&playnext=1

All right, I think that's about it. I've been writing and reading lots, (especially enjoyed the aforementioned "Under the Dome," Tim Lebbon's "Bar None," - if you like beer and you like fantasy then you simply MUST read "Bar None" - and I'm currently LOVING "Journal of the Gun Years" by Richard Matheson. But, as always, there's always much, much more to read and write.

To that end...

Crash and Burn

Just realized that I haven't posted in the cave in well over a month, and to be frank, I'm not that surprised. Something's been happening over the last several weeks, the least of which is that my hard drive completely crashed and I lost an awful lot of stories, one novella, and two half-finished novels. We also lost some pictures of the kids (which was the largest tragedy) and some other miscellaneous data. (As an aside, before you all gang up to tell me what to do to recover the lost info, let me say "thanks" and "we've already tried that." Of the six recovery procedures/programs I tried, none worked.) At any rate, the computer is up and running again.

What's odd is that when I reinstalled XP and started mounting programs back into the system, I was a bit relieved at how... "blank" it all was. It was a clean slate. It was... new, for lack of a better word, and it seemed like something that had needed to be done. I'm a big believer in the universe pointing you in the direction that you need to go if you're only smart enough to listen, and perhaps the crash was something that needed to happen.

A lack of a computer for several days, however, wasn't the reason that I hadn't posted a blog in over a month, however. Life gets in the way, and all that is an easy excuse, but to tell you the truth, I'm not in the mood for excuses. As much as I'd like to keep you all updated on what I'm doing and what I'm about to be doing, "doing it" has to take precedence, and that's what I've been "doing" - if that makes sense.

But, I know you folks dig it when I tell you what's what, so here's a condensed version:

The sunflowers on the garage aren't finished, but they're a hell of a lot farther along than the last picture I posted on the blog. When I have TIME, I will post new pictures.

I've been enjoying building Blair Witch Totems with the kids that we are hanging all over the house and in the trees outside for Halloween.

My wife and I celebrate ten years of marriage next week. Hoo-rah! (I can't believe she's put up with me for so long!)

I get to see Metallica for the 16th time in a little over a week. Hoo-rah!

I'm going to be in Minneapolis in November to see a lecture with Stephen King and Audrey Niffenegger. Hoo-rah!

Since all of my work on the computer was wiped out (no jokes and/or admonishments about not backing up my work!) and "Delving: Culminations" was completely wiped out - I will now be working on that novel full time.

And that's about it. I'd like to get some more promotional things going on the website, and maybe do something special for the mailing list members over Halloween, but a lot of that has to do with Ren and his timeline. Finally, I feel free enough to let him deal with all the online hoopla and keep myself to the writing and the artwork.

So that's the way it goes! I hope you're all doing well, Troops, and we'll talk soon.

Mural Day Six

Finding more time to do the mural lately - this picture is actually from last week. More in progress pictures to come.

Mural Day Five

Was able to get some "edging" done today. After that, I'll do some detail in the sunflowers themselves, and then start on the cancerous flora at their feet in earnest.

Will be leaving tomorrow for Madison, so I don't know if I'll get much done on the mural, but will post if I do.

Mural Day Four

I took two days off because I had a bunch of other stuff going on - writing deadlines, child care, school shopping trip - so I was finally able to do a bit of work today. Some of the "filler" crap is starting to take shape...

Mural Day Three

Yeah, it's looking a bit like the wall of a pre-school, but I promise it'll get better...

Mural Day Two

Time got away from me yesterday and I didn't have a lot of time to work on the mural. Looks like rain today, and that's not so good - but I'm going to try and get "other" stuff done this morning so perhaps I can attack the wall more this after.

Mural Day One

Recently I noticed that our storage garage was looking rather... well, too garage-y. In order to spruce it up, I thought I'd take advantage of the long summer days and paint a mural on it.

Here's the progress after Day One. I'll post pics as I go so that you can see how I'm doing.

SHOT-SKI PROJECT

I spent the last week or so putting together and painting a "Shot-Ski." It was a gift for my brother and sister-in-law who just purchased a new house. They have a bar in their basement, and their last name is Borgen, hence the "Borgen's Basement" logo.

Shot-Ski's are designed so that multiple persons can drink shots at once. My friend Aric Anonich is a co-owner of the Shot-Ski company, and you can find out more about Shot-Ski's at http://www.shot-ski.com/.





















Above is me with the finished Shot-Ski...

Above is a shot of the whole ski...

This is detail of the shot mounting, (complete with Shot-Ski logo glass shots - which I designed btw)...

Above is a ski-length shot - no pun intended...

Above is some detail of the painting....

More painting detail...

Painting detail of the tail...

The Shot-Ski website offers completes skis (snow or water, and other off the wall designs) as well as mounting gear to design your own like I did. Check 'em out, and let me know what you think of the one I made.

New Jazma Online Interview

An interview I did with JazmaOnline.com in June is now available to view. Since Jazma is running some backlogs (due to illness) the editors were nice enough to throw up a preview HERE. Click on over for the longest (and most informative) interview I've done yet.

Road Warrior

A few days ago I returned to Madison, Wisconsin, a city I lived in for over a decade. There's an armful of topics I could write about after being there, and after a day or so of sobering thought, I've declined to write about any of it. The emotional part of the trip is all mine, and not something I'm inclined to share with others I don't know.

What I would like to write about, however, is the traffic in Madison. Now, Madison is by no means a gargantuan city. It is not Chicago. It is not New York. It is not San Francisco. Hell, at under 225,000 people, it's not even Milwaukee. However, living there for eleven years, I guess I just got used to the hustle and bustle of the traffic. I got used to it taking me 20-40 minutes to go to and get back from wherever it was I wanted to go. I got used to thinking in terms of "consolidation" trips - ie. "I'm going to be on that side of town anyway, so what else could I pick up?" I got used to the fact that once I took the Madison exit off of the interstate, I still had a twenty-five minute drive to my house.

I got used to all of it over eleven years and never realized it.

Okay, so we leave last September and move to a new location in Northern Wisconsin - population >10K. Where I live now, it takes LITERARLLY three minutes to drive from one end of the town to the other. The amount of stoplights in my town is probably the amount of stoplights that are on State Street in Madison.

Anyway, I hadn't thought about this much since I left last Fall - your reality is relative and all that - but visiting Madison a few days ago I was SHOCKED at how ANNOYED I as with the traffic. Talk about becoming a country bumpkin. And when I speak of traffic, I'm not being annoyed with the other drivers - I'm being annoyed with the sheer number of stoplights. I'm being annoyed with the sheer distance one has to drive to get from point A to point B. I'm being annoyed with things that are not "incident" relavent, I'm dealing with things that are "size" relevant. Madison has a great road system, and they're always improving it. I'm saying that it wouldn't matter what city I went to - after returning and living in my little burg for a while, I can't believe I put up with it, and I have no urge to return to it whatsoever.

Now if I can just persuade my wife to let me buy that compound in the hills....

Reverse Contraceptives

Last week an interesting concept was arrived at by myself and a small group of my friends. For the moment, this concept remains in the realm of science fiction, but I thought that from the immense amount of discussion it created between my little group that it might make a good topic here in the Cave.

The topic is Reverse Contraceptives, and it goes something like this.

One member of my group commented on how in certain countries everyone is assumed to be an organ donor - meaning, of course, that when they die, unless they've stated otherwise, that their organs will be donated to help others. Now, there's an easy opt-out for this, something like going somewhere akin to our Department of Motor Vehicles here in the States, and just signing a form saying you don't want to donate your organs. Therein lies the rub: most people don't opt out. In the countries where organ donation is simply assumed, the organ donation rate is phenomenally high, because people just don't want to think about it. They'd rather just stick to the "default settings" and not deal with it.

That got us thinking.

The idea of Reverse Contraception would go something like this: At birth, a simple procedure (that is as yet unavailable in the real world), something low-risk like a circumcision, would be performed on baby boys and girls. This procedure would make them effectively sterile.

Once these young people were 18 years of age, they could produce photo identification at any local drugstore or hospital and receive a "reverse contraception" pill for little or no money. If both the man and the woman were taking this "RC" pill, they could become pregnant.

Think about it.

The 18 year old minimum would effectively eliminate childhood pregnancy.

The notion that you couldn't get knocked up unless you put some thought into it, unless you and your partner were sure that it was what you really wanted, would drastically reduce the abortion rate, would drastically reduce the crime rate, would drastically reduce the poverty rate.

Are their problems with the idea? Of course. Who's in charge of the RC pill? Would it be mandatory that all children get the reverse contraception procedure at birth, or would it be a parental decision? Even if it was a parental decision, my opinion is that an overwhelming percentage of parents would "opt in" for it. If you could guarantee that your kid wasn't going to get pregnant until they were out of high-school... that's a pretty great motivator.

Anyway, I thought the concept warranted a little conversation. What do you think? Is a Reverse Contraception pill a great idea, or something that infringes on human rights? Do we have a "Right" to conceive as humans? Interesting questions, and I'm looking forward to hearing your insights.

A Cronkite Comment

I wanted to be sure to comment on the passing of Walter Cronkite before it sped too far back in our rearview mirror. A few days ago on NPR, there was a call-in discussion asking questions like, "How important was Cronkite?" and "How much has television news changed since the departure of Cronkite - for the better or worse?" and the discussion got me thinking.

First, the importance of Cronkite. The man's importance - along with Huntley and Brinkley's - simply cannot be overstated. These men who overtook the nation's primary news source in the early sixties set the tone for how television news would be primarily reported for the remainder of the century. Their notion that the news should be reported with dignity, with educated calm, and with the undisputable quotient of Who, When, What, Where, and Why almost guaranteed that their viewers would be well-informed.

I wasn't yet ten year's old when Cronkite signed off for the last time. As a product of my age, I can't claim to have been too much of a news junkie, but I do remember my father grabbing me and sitting me down in front of the floor mounted set, saying: "You may not understand this, but I want you to watch it." And there I sat, watching some mustached man talk about his years as an "anchorman," and signing off with his signature, "And that's the way it is." At the time I didn't really understand the relevance, but in retrospect, I'm very glad that my dad had me watch that.

Cronkite was my parent's primary news guy. After Walter left, my parents shuffled between the three "kids" that took over the networks, Jennings, Rather, and Brokaw. As I got older and began a love affair of my own with news, Brokaw became my guy - even before I started working for NBC - and had my kids been old enough to walk, I would've called them over to the set at the end of Tom's last broadcast.

But I'm getting off track.

What made Cronkite one of the greats? Clearly, his dedication to not only the news, but the 'presentation' of the news made him great. If his dedication to objectivity hadn't been so spectacular, when he did break the rules and personally comment on the apparent stalemate of the Vietnam War, would then-president Johnson have reportedly stated: "If I've lost Cronkite, I've lost Middle America."? Cronkite's devotion to what was newsworthy and the process that defined items as such, has become the gold standard of what is actual 'journalism'.

Which leads us to the difference in television news between Cronkite's time and the present day. Certainly, an "Entertainment Factor" has become far too large an element in determining what is newsworthy... but was that inevitable?

The problem - and perhaps in some ways, the benefit - with news today is that there are so many choices. In the heydey of my parent's generation, there were three choices for television news... at the most. Think about that: what if you had three choices to get your television news from? In this day and age, for many of you reading this, the idea seems at the very least, limiting. However, when you have so many television news sources, as well as so many online sources, the quality of the news in many cases clearly declines.

Why?

When competition increases, the means to grabbing attention and ratings becomes more diversified and more extreme. Specialities arise, and objectivity suffers as a result. Yes, there are still objective news sources available, but they are becoming fewer and farther between. Finding a quality news source now depends largely on the viewer. You, as an individual, need to weigh the objectivity of your news, and base your decisions as such on what you want to intake. This is something that a large percentage of Americans are not willing - or are not able, (because of intelligence and/or time constraints, among other reasons) - to do. (When eighteen percent, yes, EIGHTEEN PERCENT, of Americans believe that the sun revolves around the earth, well...). Additionally, when news becomes so broad and prevalent, how can it not become news itself? Just taking an easy example, remember after the last presidential election, when the GOP was in turmoil, and the question arose: "Who's in charge of the GOP, Michael Steele or Rush Limbaugh?" When news commentators become news items, a line is blurred, and questions arise. Cronkite and his ilk have always downplayed their roles, maintaining that they are only the messengers, and not the subject of the almighty news spotlight.

Perhaps, in the end, that might be Cronkite's greatest legacy: a humility that can serve as a gauge for newsmen in the future. Be less trusting of any journalist who is actively trying to make more of themselves, and not the news they report.

The Fiction Writer Cometh

Last weekend I gave a reading at a book store in my hometown of Rice Lake, Wisconsin. I read a story from "Exile: The Collected Helman Graff," as well as part of a chapter of the new book coming out next month, "Calvin Dyer and the Reatian Horde". I also read some microfiction - read: flash fiction - and an observational piece I wrote especially for the event. At any rate, several people have asked me to post it, so here ya go. As a word of warning, if you're not from the RL area, you may not have much clue as to what this is all about. (It's kind of a Locals Only sort of thing...)

"The Long Way Home"

or

"The Fiction Writer Cometh"

by

Scott F. Falkner

(Said with the slight embarrassment and trepidation of someone introducing them self at an AA meeting.) I’m Scott, and I am a fiction writer.

That means I lie for a living.

Well, that isn’t entirely true.

I don’t lie in the negative sense. However, FICTION denotes untruth, which means in telling you that I write fiction, I’m telling you up front that I’m a liar. It’s just like that old story about the snake and the old woman crossing the river… you can’t blame a snake for being a snake. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I tell untruths for a living. None of what I write is true… so it’s a lie… sort of.

Like if I said that I met a middle-aged man in a diner on the corner of Center and Skull Streets, in 1995 in Kalamazoo, Michigan, a man who’s name I can’t really remember, but who told me over several cups of coffee how he lived a life in the shadows and chased down supernatural beings… all in the course of making the world a better place. I could say that I based much of Helman Graff on that man’s life and what he told me… I could say that, and yet you’d have to assume that I was making it up… because I’m a fiction writer.

Anyway, I say this all up front, because I want you to know just what you’re getting into… that is, I want you to understand what I may or may not be telling you… if you catch my meaning?

I left Rice Lake, Wisconsin, in 1991. That’s going on eighteen years ago.

Eighteen years.

But let’s say it’s nineteen years. After all, nineteen holds much more weight, and anyone who’s read Stephen King’s The Dark Tower knows the powerful implications of the number nineteen.

So we’ll say I left nineteen years ago. I can do that. Because I’m a fiction writer.

I enjoyed a relatively idyllic childhood in a small town with a great family and great friends. However, when I was seventeen, I was chomping at the bit to leave. I’m sure it’s a feeling that the majority of high school seniors feel: that sense of urgency to get on with life, to get out there and see and experience all the world has to offer.

And so I left.

I don’t want to dwell too much on what happened to me while I was away. I don’t want to focus on such things as how I—in my own mind and the mind of a maniacal director—stole the show playing the part of a teenage stoner in a college production of Talk Radio.

I don’t want to dwell on how I fell two stories onto a sidewalk trying to steal a store sign in Paris, Texas, and cracked my head open.

I don’t want to dwell on sitting with my mentor, a Pulitzer Prize winning German writer, in a Milwaukee hospital as he died from self-inflicted cuts to his wrists.

There are enough stories there to fill a book in itself, stories of jumping six stories into the Chippewa River at three a.m. in February, stories about kicking a raging heroin addiction with the help of an Indian Mystic who taught me the majestic art of Tai-Chi, stories about cursing out a Theology Professor in front of a class of two-hundred students for his lack of Native American insight, stories about working at a television affiliate during nine-eleven, stories about getting married, buying houses and cars, and watching my children being born.

Lot’s of stories.

What I’d rather focus on is what I’ve noticed about Rice Lake since coming back after nineteen years of being away.

To be certain, I’ve been back in the meantime, to visit family and friends, but to tell you the truth, I never really NOTICED my hometown while I was here for those visits. Sure, I noticed small things, like the lack of a Starbucks, but for the most part the city itself was really just backdrop.

Window dressing.

Staging.

But now I’m back, and as such I’m starting to notice things.

Small things.

Big things.

Take the changing face of the businesses for instance. When I was a kid, Russ’s Pancake House was the place to go for a great breakfast. Then the lead waitress left and started up Maxine’s. Maxine’s took the place of an Asian Restaurant. Now there’s an Asian Restaurant where Russ’s Pancake House was in the first place.

Talk about full circle.

That block where Russ’s was has changed a lot. Where Dominoes was is now a Mexican Restaurant, and there’s a nifty little coffee shop on the corner that’s completely new to me. A little farther north, the big grocery store in town moved across the street, and a collection of smaller businesses moved in where it used to be… it seems like a waste of space.

The other big grocery store in town, the one of the south end, the one where I used to drag my fingers along the floor while riding in the bottom of my mom’s shopping cart, has closed down.

The mall has changed a lot too. It seemed larger when I was a kid, but just about everything seemed larger back then I suppose. The Big Steer is gone. Eat at Joe’s, the eatery which had the miniature theater where you could watch a cartoon for a quarter, is now a coffee shop. Woolworth's is now JC Penny and JC Penny is now a sporting goods store. The fountain is still there in the middle, the one I almost fell into when I was in choir and fainted on the risers set up over the top of it.

I fainted in church too, when I was playing Joseph in the Christmas pageant. I fell over onto Mary and punted the doll representing the Christ child into the third row… unintentionally of course. That was at First United Methodist up on the hill. I’ve only been there a few times since, and it seems like one of the few places that hasn’t changed all that much.

Up the street from the church, the pool no longer has the high diving board… insurance reasons I’ve been told.

My old elementary school now has a second floor.

My old high school has changed a lot. I brought my daughter there for a dance recital and was wowed by the new addition off the gym. Of course, now they’re tearing up the football field and the track, and cutting down a lot of brilliant old trees, for a multi-million dollar sports complex.

Back in my day, myself and some friends petitioned the city council for a place to skateboard. They gave us a slab of asphalt near the hockey arena.

These days, there’s a new skatepark out where the old airport used to be. It’s right next to the soccer park… which takes me to my old stomping grounds.

I used to live on the corner of Orchard Beach, across from where the old boat landing was. My backyard used to be a field with a rustic old barn, and beyond that was Nutter’s Ranch—also known as Misty Moors. Behind the ranch, the cranberry bogs where I once played, where myself and a friend saw a pack of beavers gnawing into the fresh carcass of a black bear before turning their sights on us, are now gone, replaced by a swamp.

That field behind my old house? That’s now filled with condominiums. Down the road, however, lay the Round Houses, and other than their color, they’ve not changed much. They remain a fantastically unique, and interesting comment on promotional architecture.

Speaking of promotional architecture…

Today, atop a building on Main Street, standing like a supernatural sentry, is a twelve foot gorilla.

That’s all I have to say about that.

Just like when I was little, when the wind is just right, the pervasive and comfortingly familiar stench of the onion factory still rolls through the city, as does the dull roar of the race track on Saturday nights.

And of course, the eastern horizon is still filled with the ever present shadow of the Blue Hills.

I spent a lot of time in those hills as a kid. I was taught to ski by my sister when I was five at Hardscrabble, and I continued to ski regularly until I was introduced to the wondrous invention of the snowboard in 1989.

I haven’t skied since.

Some friends and I used to hike in Gundy’s Canyon. I’m not sure if we were trespassing or not… and I’m still not sure what we saw hovering over the center of the canyon like a mechanical octopus on that summer day in 1990—I do know that four of us went out to the canyon that day… and only three of us came back.

I remember getting lost in the Blue Hills on Sunday afternoons with a friend who will remain nameless. I remember wandering for hours on dusty back roads barely wider than the car and past tin shacks that didn’t look inhabitable… but which had smoke winding up and out of their exhaust pipe chimneys.

On a recent drive out to the hills I found that much of it hasn’t changed. It’s still our very own strange and mysterious place, filled with just as much wonder as danger. I’m glad that my kids will one day have the opportunity to experience it.

So, Rice Lake is much the same as when I left, despite numerous cosmetic differences.

More importantly, I suppose, is that I’ve changed significantly in the last nineteen years.

When I left, I was an angry young man, imbued with a sense of destiny and determined to inflict my own ideas on the world as loudly as possible.

These days, as a husband and father, I’m a bit softer around the edges—emotionally and physically—though my mind and sense of awareness are much sharper. I’m still determined to force my ideas on the world, yet now I understand that for those ideas to be effective, they must often be conveyed subtly, and with a certain degree of modesty.

The Rice Lake area—much to my initial surprise—is a good place to do that.

Here, from my quiet little corner of the world, I can spew forth my lies, my untruths, and affect your minds… at least for a little while.

After all, that’s what I do. I’m Scott, and I’m a Fiction Writer.

~