A New “Legend,” Old Issues, and Strange Days, Indeed…

I have been remiss in blogging lately because, as usual, the simple act of sitting down to craft something essay-like, useful, and mind-altering (for some of us) just doesn’t seem to come together. Perhaps, as I sit at this table and this computer, and bang out all manner of content for several hours a day, it becomes difficult for these.

When such content doesn’t feel creative, it’s pretty difficult to dredge up the essay question portion of the test. Well, let’s see what I can figure out from recent and current events.

First: we are this much closer to “Legend of the Black Swan,” my new book, which will come out on Sunbury Press Books, via the Brown Posey imprint. This is turning out incredibly well; the legwork of Crystal and Gabrielle, plus the fantastic artwork by Megan, has turned this into a really serious piece. I am not able to do a cover reveal yet, but we’re getting there.

That has been a really cool thing as the process continues to move forward. Meanwhile, my attempts at a new manuscript are stuttering, much like the one I did last year, and yet, that one kind of turned out okay. The process is no longer to just bash out chapter after chapter and expect it all to flow. It doesn’t; more than once, I revisit what pages I have written, go through them again, and find the errors, the mistakes, the missing pieces that make each chapter readable, and make you want to read more.

I’ve changed, or rather, my style has changed. That said, more content is coming in another way.

I have talked about the #BookSpeakNetwork — hashtag, and search it. You will find a long, voluminous library of podcasts hosted by myself and my publisher, Lawrence Knorr. Quickly, he hosts the Sunbury Press Books Show for authors on the label. Then, The History Stacks, in which Lawrence indulges his doctorate and love of history with an array of intriguing guests.

My cast, the Brown Posey Press Show, is for authors on the fiction imprint, plus indie and self-published authors. I’ve had some pretty interesting and cool guests over the years. And one more…

The network once had a program called “Milford House Mysteries,” which was for the Milford House imprint. Lawrence and I are reviving the podcast to call it “Milford House Mysteries & Histories.” Milford is for mystery, thriller, and historical fiction, so we are bringing that show back in the very near future.

I’ll be busy, but I like it that way.

That said…my health update. I’m not really sure how this is going. After my attack of pancreatitis in December, I found recently that the gallstones in my gall bladder were, in fact, removed. A stent was also implanted. Tomorrow I visit the surgeon to talk about the bladder’s removal. But also in March there is another endoscopic procedure. Apparently, they want to light up my insides and get a nice look at my pancreas.

They saw something, but they don’t know what. Great.

I’m having the immediate flashback of “I Want to Eat Your Pancreas.”

No, it is not a horror movie. It’s an anime, and they made a movie about it. Tragic, horrific, and another take on the young person death trope. Ei freaking yi.

The reason I take dark humor is that my mother died of pancreatic cancer, and that is one of the big three. Lung cancer (which killed my dad) and colon cancer are the others in the US and likely much of the world.

I do NOT know if I have THAT…and I will not entertain it, but you never can tell.

The past two months saw me try to adjust to a different diet, with middling success. I have kept my weight down, which is good, but I get these occasional bouts of heartburn, which make me think I’m having another attack, or…what I initially thought I was having, a heart attack.

I’ll tell the surgeon and just be like, “Can we get this fucking thing out of me, now?”

Growing “old” is not fun, but I resist it every chance I get. I can do better, and I will. I have too much to offer, to write, to make better. Not like it’s going to make me famous or wealthy, but I have to do it.

The cover frame of Hunter Thompson arrived the other day. Yeah, at the end, I want to be able to crawl from the wreckage (as I have time and time again), look at the flaming, smashed vehicle, and be like, “Damn, that was fun.”

Gotta find it somehow.

Now, I’ll close with a brief missive: I did NOT watch the Super Bowl, but I did listen to a bit of the audio until it got boring, which didn’t take long. I knew the Patriots were going to get their butts handed to them, and they did. Boring game by the look of it, much to the consternation of people.

The manufactured outrage over Bad Bunny (who I had not heard of until You Know Who pissed his pants in public over it) and his show. The faked rage over a non-white man performing…have we not got over ourselves yet?

Apparently not. And, horror of horrors, he sang in Spanish!

OH MY GOD…the pillars of Rome were torn down by less than this.

People immediately whined that his lyrics were dirty, and there was no translation because of that.

Bullshit.

BB’s message was to his people, of Puerto Rico and elsewhere. I don’t know all of it, but what was translated was good enough for me.

We are a nation of immigrants, people. If you still get in a lather over a non-White performing a halftime show, then you must be in one over all the Black, Hispanic, Asian, and the rest who are playing. You must absolutely be drenching your bodies with froth over the fact that women are commentating on the men’s games.

My, my, we have not learned one thing, have we? Nothing. We can so easily be turned into ranting, screaming, raving lunatics at the drop of the temperature. We no longer Save for Hate Week, it’s Hate Everyone Not Like You, Every Day, Every Minute.

Did you enjoy Nepo Baby Kid Rock’s all-White extravaganza? Didn’t you realize he’s pretending to be the very thing you hate? He’s acting like a rapper, he’s acting like he’s…Black.

Oh, the irony. KR has one good song, “Only God Knows Why.” The rest I couldn't care less about.

Then they claim everyone else hates America, when it is they who cannot tolerate or accept anyone but the image they see when they look in the mirror. When do we progress? When do we stop regressing?

When do people stop, take a long look at themselves, and then look around at how diverse the world is, and there’s not a thing you can do about it? When do you embrace all of it, not just you?

‘cause you know what? It’s not about you, or me, or any one. It’s all of us, All One, baby.

Better get used to it.

Now, hopefully I’ll make it to a comfortable space, where I may read from a stack of books, some for pleasure, some for the podcasts, and some to inspire my writing, which has gone on a bit longer than I thought it would.

Easy Enough, my old friend Glenn always says.

Peace, Out.