There's been quite a bit of media coverage lately regarding some of Atlanta's homeless sleeping while riding on the brand new Atlanta Streetcar(s). If you're unaware, the Atlanta Streetcar project connects Centennial Olympic Park near Downtown to the King Historic district. Running in a loop with about 3 miles of tracks, it has a dozen different stops. It's designed to encourage tourism and to allow people an alternative mode of transportation around the city.

You can argue several points about the viability, cost, and efficiency of the service, but I've heard a new take on the Streetcars that has really gotten under my skin. Apparently, it bothers some of the streetcar drivers that Atlanta's homeless citizens are sleeping on the Streetcar as it travels around the loop it calls home.

For the time being, it's free to ride on the Streetcar. It's a (good, in my opinion) way to promote ridership while the service is new and exciting. The unintended consequence of this decision is a homeless man or woman climbs on board, and dozes off. The drivers feel this could be safety concern, and want it stopped somehow. City officials have said they can't do anything, since sleeping in public isn't disorderly conduct.

The thing about it that really ticks me off is this: Instead of finding out why they are homeless, or what we could do to help them, let's just... get rid of them. Somewhere, somehow. If Atlanta is having a problem with the homeless, (and they do) let's try to isolate the issue and resolve it. Utah has done a tremendous job of reducing homelessness, but in Atlanta... just get them off the Streetcar. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

It's not just the City of Atlanta who is responsible for this. It's the churches, the community, and the state agencies that crowd downtown Atlanta that could solve or reduce Atlanta's homeless problems. The solution is fairly simple: identify who is homeless, identify why they are homeless, and give them the tools or support system to overcome those barriers. Can you save everyone? Probably not. But I guarantee you the homeless man or woman dozing on the streetcar didn't decide to become homeless. 

I work downtown. I see the reality of it almost everyday. I've worked with people to improve their self-sufficiency, and it's a step by step process. Identify. Overcome. Provide support. And you do it again and again until they can stand on their own two feet. You don't just kick them off the bus because they're sleeping. The irony here is the Streetcar travels through the King Historic District multiple times per day, and we're still talking about kicking people off the bus. 

You know where they are; why not step up and offer them some help?  

Other than Brad’s family, I have the dubious honor of knowing him the longest. He and I have been friends....at least since the late 80’s. I met Brad for the first time on the bus to the first day of 7th grade. I, of course, was reading a book. (The Hunt for Red October, by Tom Clancy) As I was reading, this kid comes and sits down beside me. I was also the first kid at his new school to ignore him; I looked up, saw who it was, and promptly looked back down and kept reading. Later on, Brad was the first person to spoil the ending of a book; once we started talking, he tells me,

“Did you read the part in the book where the guy breaks his neck? It was awesome!”

Boyhood friends are like no other. The colors of our childhood are usually provided by our friends, and our friendship was no different. Brad and I lived about two and a half miles apart, down the two biggest hills on our side of the county. During the summer, and after school, we would be going back and forth several times a day, trips that today are unimaginable. Who would send their kid the next town over, just to play with a friend? and not worry about them? North Road was gravel at the time. Half of the houses on Reese Road hadn’t been built.

Brad was my first friend who was also a Yellow Jacket fan. That was the first thing I told my parents about him; “He like Tech!” There’s a few more today, but not many. As twelve and thirteen old friends, we had a lot of firsts; I borrowed my first Playboy, with which he responded by sneaking out his older brother’s Penthouse. Once, I took my dad’s pistol. While we were trying to load it, the cylinder fell out, losing a tiny part. Brad, Daddy just replaced it a few years ago. When we spent the night with each other, he was the first person I snuck outside with. One of us discovered you could sling a bicycle chain down the road, and it would throw up an amazing display of sparks.

Brad and I were the first ones to spend the night in Jack & Elaine’s house, where they live now. It wasn’t even finished; just dried in. We were terrified. Because it was his house, he had his BB gun, but all I had was a wooden baseball bat. I amused us to no end by calling it a “Slouieville Lugger”, early on, and the name for the bat stuck.

Another first occurred during another sleepover after their house was completed. I’ve always had active dreams; even now, I sometimes thrash about. I’m never hit my wife, for any reason, but I sure have pummeled her in my sleep. Several times. I had spent the night with Brad, and we had both fallen asleep in his bed. In my sleep, I reached over, and grabbed a handful of Brad’s rear end. So his was the first piece of ass I ever grabbed. I woke up, realizing what I’d done, and was mortified. So I’m lying there, hoping he’s asleep, and I mutter to myself “What the hell was that?” Beside me, in the dark, Brad says, “I don’t know!”

Brad was the first one to introduce me to MAD! magazine. I didn’t get all of the jokes, but he thought they were pretty funny.

Brad was the first person to take me to the Georgia Dome. (Did you know it had a top?) I can’t remember for what, but it may have been on the way to one of my first Georgia Tech spring games.

Brad was there the first time I threw a firecracker at my brother, and the first to build bombs with me. We’d cut the powder out of shotgun shells, and make stuff go boom. I think Brad was the first person I shot with a BB gun. He was the first person to take me turtle hunting, out on Lake Jade. Lake Jade was also another the site of another first; Brad and I went out on a boat with his brother, and that’s where I drank my first beer. I also picked off my first leech from that lake, also in Brad’s company.

I was there when Brad had his first (major) accident. A car came off of Highway 54, swerved, and T-boned him while he was sitting at McIntosh Trail.

Brad was there the first time I ever played soccer, at P.E. in middle school. Later, in high school, I tagged along with him to the fields at Elm Street Elementary, where I was so bad on the field, they stuck me in goal. I later played with him on the high school team, both JV and varsity, and later on in college. Thanks to Brad, both of my girls play, and I've had the pleasure to coach them in the sport he introduced to me.

He was also there the first time I scored a goal in a game. Bill Screws, our coach, had pulled me out of the goal, and I ended up scoring two or three. Nothing shocked that man, but we did that day.

Brad was also the first friend I ever got mad at about a girl, and I regret it to this day.

When I wrote my first novel, the first friend of my main character to show up was... Brad.

---

Brad, since you’ve been a part of so many firsts, I’m pleased to be the one to help you with a few firsts you’ll have coming up over the next year or so. It probably won’t take you as long to make the mistakes I did, but after fourteen years of being married, I’ve made them all. And I’m pleased to help you out – that’s what friends are for.

The first night of your marriage... you’re own your own. No help there.

The first time Leslie burns your favorite food, eat it. Every bite.

The first time you have a fight, you should be the first to apologize. No matter the subject, no matter who was right or who was wrong.

The first time you compare Linda to your mom... nevermind. Don’t ever make that mistake. (Even if it is about how Elaine would iron and fold your underwear.)

The first time Lisa cries, just hold her. You don’t have to say anything.

For your first holiday – any holiday – go all out. You’ll never have another “First Kloss Killing day”

The first time you see a hot girl walk by after you get married, look away.

The first time you two go to the beach, get some mirrored sunglasses.

The first time you go to a movie, let her pick. (And no complaining, either. I’m sure LuAnn will pick a good one.) Next time, it’s your turn.

The first time one of her kids is mean to her, hold your temper. That relationship is fragile.

The first time one of her kids is upset with Linda, remember to be the guy they met the first time. Consistency is the key to step children.

The first time you dance, always remember the song.

The first time Lisa gets mad at your friends, remember – she’s your wife.

Remind her of your first kiss often.

Be the first one to say “I love you” in the morning and the first thing as you go to sleep.

The first time she says something, and you don’t hear it (cough weren’t paying attention cough) always answer, “I love you too.”

And my final piece of advice...

The first time you call her by the wrong name, look at her and say.... “At least I wasn’t like that dumbass at our wedding!”

Earlier this month, Delilah Dawson did an excellent guest blog for Chuck Wendig. (You can find it here.) The topic of her blog was “25 Writing Hacks”, and it was chock full of useful information on how to write easier, better, and faster. I’ve always loved to read another author’s thoughts on writing, even as a kid; it was like a glimpse into a secret world.

But Delilah’s post got me thinking about the writer’s life, and the ways we can make it easier (or harder) on ourselves. The world is full of excellent, prolific authors who are able to produce stunning book after stunning book. But for many of these writers, it is their full time job; they are able to make a living by writing. But for many published and unpublished writers, writing time must be carved out of the hours left over after work, raise kids, maintain a marriage, and any of the other activities that make a life worth living.

So how do you work writing into real life? Every writer’s journey is different, and I’ve found it’s a series of adjustments. What works for one novel may not work for the next. What works for one novelist may not work for the next. But here are some things I’ve found have helped me be productive over the last several years:

Your Other Half:

If you’re in a relationship at any level, the support and understanding of your better half is almost a make or break proposition. We have a finite hours in a day, and your writing has the potential to take 2-4 hours a day of your time away from them. So you have two choices; be an insensitive bastard, or enlist their support.

Obviously, they love you for the person you are. If you’re a writer (of any level) you’re probably creative, quirky, a reader, etc. etc. So writing should be an extension of your personality. The trick to finding a balance is finding a way to involve them so writing is not a solo endeavor. My other half helps me proof, edit, and answers questions that come up during the writing process. Many successful writers use their spouse as a First Reader (S. King, O.S. Card), and some as an editor. (Robert Jordan)

Now, if you’re other half is insanely jealous of your time, or otherwise resents your writing time, you may need to sit down and have a heart to heart. Everyone, regardless of their situation, should always be allowed to follow their dreams. The two keys to any successful relationship is communication and compromise. So enlisting their support is one of the things you’ll need to write in real life.

Your Schedule:

As we’ve noted before, you have a limited number of hour to write. So it’s vitally important to set a schedule that works within your life. There are plenty of blogs on the benefits of a writing schedule, so I won’t recap them. But for WIRL, it’s perhaps the largest piece. The writing life is not a sprint; it’s a marathon of the ultra-Ironman-Iditarod style. But the good thing is it doesn’t have to be a large chunk of time at once.

My daily writing schedule is to write for an hour in the mornings. My wife works an early schedule, so I’m up with her about 5AM. By the time I wake up and shuffle to the computer with coffee, I’m able to write from 5:30 to about 6:30. I do this every weekday without fail during the first draft. I can usually get a thousand words in that hour, sometimes more. (but also sometimes less, but it’s rarely less than 750-800) The beauty of doing this every weekday? In three months I should have a 90k first draft. Over the last couple of weeks, as various projects have come to a head, I’ve been adding an hour or two in the evenings. But I always try to do it around her, and the kids, so I’m not a father in absentia. Are the evening hours productive? Not as much. But it gets stuff out of the way so I put my morning brain where it needs to be.

Weekends are a little different; I’ll sleep late(r), but before I do anything else I’ll do something in the writing world. Edit, draft, post, etc. (For example, it’s 9:53AM on a Saturday; I can hear the wife and one kid getting ready, and the other kid and I will be leaving soon. I have 27 minutes before I need to get up and start getting ready myself.)

If you have a schedule, stick to it. You can’t cheat if you want to be successful at anything. So drag your butt out of bed, even though it sucks. But you have something to look forward to; once you do it about two weeks, it starts to turn into a habit. That’s when you start to get mileage out of WIRL.

Your location

This is the most flexible of the WIRL requirements. Where will you write? It should be the same place each day. It reinforces your habit building, allows you to focus, and should work within your life. The room I’m using to write in has been a nursery, a junk room, and an office. When I decided to get ‘serious’ about my writing, my wife and I converted it into a library/office. We’ve stocked it with stuff that all of us can enjoy; I have my books, my wife and I have chairs we can sit together and read, my youngest daughter has a “desk” and a bottom shelf dedicated to toys.

It’s also filled with pictures and paintings of us or by us. The junkiness of the room varies, based on what we need, but it’s a place we can all use. I (and you) should use your location primarily for writing, but don’t treat it like a sacred space where no one can enter. This is WIRL, after all.

Your network

If you look at successful people, you’ll see one common theme: They surround themselves with other successful people. And so your writing should go; find the other weird folk like yourself and keep them close. Follow writers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+. See what they’re doing, see what they are talking about, and just…learn by osmosis.

At the same time, get out; go to conventions, writer’s groups, and workshops. Make it a family affair; my oldest and I are going to an author signing later today. Has she read him? Nope. But I’ll get to spend 3-4 hours with an intelligent, charming young lady, and I can think of worse ways to spend my time. As an added bonus, I’ll meet others, some of them writers, and have an engaging meal. So cast a broad network, be active, and include others. You’ll benefit in more ways than one.

Consistency

The key to WIRL is the consistency with which you all of the above. Involve your better half on a regular basis. Write every day. Write in an environment that’s friendly to the task. Talk to others writers about writing. As you advance, be kind to newer writers.

Keep in mind that writing is only a part of your real life. It shouldn’t be all of your life. 

Today is September 22, 2014. It’s a minor day, in the grand scheme of things; 1 of 365 days this year; 1 of 52 Mondays in 2014. So there’s nothing really special about it.

Except to me. Today is the day Sleeping Sickness, my debut novel, is released. As my bio says, I’ve been writing since I could grip a pencil. The first time I saw my name in print was in 5th grade, when a short story of mine was published in a school system “literary magazine”. (Heavily edited, but that’s an essay for another day.)

So you would think today would find me on cloud nine, beaming sunshine out my arse, and skipping along in joy. Right?  I certainly thought so.

But that didn’t happen. I woke up at my normal time, got my coffee, took my shower, and sat down to write. I didn’t even think about Sleeping Sickness until I got a note from my wife. So that made me think: Is today really any different?

It is. Today is the day a little bit of me will live forever. Sure, I have a few kids, but those are only really half of me. Sleeping Sickness is all mine; nn idea, which I nursed into a story, sweated out over four months. It was read by a half dozen beta readers; and I added 13,000 words to make the story whole. I ended up sending it to a group of wonderful people at Indie Gypsy, who were gracious enough to print one of my stories in their anthology a few years back.

The ladies at IG took a rough, rough, rough draft and . . . turned it into a gosh by honest book. They took the rough and smoothed it, dealt with email after email from me asking various annoying questions, and made the idea that came to me in April 2011 complete.

So why aren’t I turning cartwheels?

I am, in a way. I’m proud of the work that we’ve done, and I’m looking forward to working with them in the future. But today made me realize, more than ever, that I’m a writer. Publishing is just a small part of a writer’s job. Not that it’s an unimportant part, mind you; after all, we have bills to pay.

After I got out of the shower, guess what I did?

I sat down and put out about 1100 words into my newest work. And I’ll do the same thing tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. Because I’m a writer. My goal is to turn out a solid manuscript a year. I’m doing that while doing what so many of us do; working a ‘real’ job (as in, one that pays the bills) maintaining a home life, coaching my kids in soccer, trying to be a good husband, and keeping the grass cut.

While Sleeping Sickness is out, and that’s a good thing, that’s not the end goal for me. Are you writing? Good. Because that is what will make you better. Getting published should be your goal, but it’s not the finish line. It’s a . . . bite of dessert in the middle of your meal. It’s a little bit of adult fun time in the middle of the day. It’s a reward that tells you “Yes, dear,” when you ask if you can stay up way past your bedtime.

So . . . when you sell your first (or second, or third, or fourth) novel, and you finally hold it in your hand and smell the pages, the ink, and a little bit of your sweat, enjoy it. But don’t stop there. Because there is plenty more where that came from. From you, your publisher, and your keyboard. Because it’s easier if you just go ahead and admit it: You would do this even if no one was watching.

The recent news that the WoT may be eligible for a Hugo award has given rise to a number of detractors. (In the interest of fairness, here is one.) As a reader and a writer, I would like to step into the discussion.

I think it should at least be nominated, and I hope it wins. There's something to be said about the completion of the series; one looks at the entire story arc differently when you know the end is approaching. I think  both Robert Jordan (and Brandon Sanderson) deserve the award, and the series deserves it for for the things it has accomplished. 

First, the writers; 

Robert Jordan's gifts come out with the completion of the series. He was always lauded for his world building and his strong female characters. What you can now appreciate is the skill in plotting, and the care he crafted his series with. The payoff came from Brandon, working with Jordan's notes and Team Jordan. As early as Book 1 you'll find hints, exact descriptions, and foreshadowing of things to come. It is even more impressive when you consider there was a 22 year span between the publication of the first and last book. As a writer, I bow my head at that type of foresight and discipline. 

Another thing WoT does well is the accessibility into the genre. As a reader, I'm turned off by much of the  terminology and naming conventions in the fantasy genre. A character's name with multiple apostrophes and hard consonants makes me put a book down. I don't want to waste time in a story trying to pronounce a name that can't be formed by a human tongue. There's also the time worn tropes of elves, dwarfs, and dragons. Thankfully, the WoT has none of those. It does have sword play, but even this is factored into the story arc. Part of the plot is taking the residents from Middle Age technology to the Industrial Age. 

Many readers have gone from the WoT to other writers in the genre, and many writers who are now publishing will say, "When I was a kid, I saw this book. . ."  and they'll be talking about the WoT. I am not ashamed to say Mr. Jordan re-ignited my desire to share stories with the hope they will have as much impact as his have.

Finally, the WoT is a good story. It has engaging characters, an immerseive world, grand scope, and does what a good story does: Leaves you wanting more. Think it's too much like Tolkien? Find a fantasy series in the late 20th century that doesn't borrow from the Grand Master. We might as well discount anything that copies the Hero's Journey after the Odyssey, since it's not original. Burn all the Dean Koontz books as well; he's too much like Stephen King. 

Does it have faults? Sure. He could have easily cut/reduced/removed two plotlines, most notably the battle for the crown of Andor and the capture of Perrin's wife. But even these play into the final scenes of the book. Do the female characters sniff and straighten dress too much? Sure. Does that take away from what it has done for our industry? Hell no. If you're turned off by a story that has too many words, I feel bad for you. 

More than the writers, the story deserves the honor. Name another series that was in development for over a third of a century, and pulls it off so well. The discipline, the planning, the care in editing, the consistency. I can't even conceive the thought of working on one story for 30 years, which is what Mr. Jordan did. His lovely wife, Harriet, deserves applause for continuing his work and guiding his vision. Once again, I'll say this; the story leaves you wanting more. But Harriet has taken the stance the main arc is all we'll see. In a world where we argue about the Expanded Universe, or parallel timelines, or re boots, I say thank you. 

The WoT shows us a world where the right thing doesn't always happen, the good won't always survive, but it's not about the ending. It's about the journey, and the lessons we learn along the way. It's a place readers have returned to for 23 years, it's characters that we love, we hate, but that we come back to. For this, it deserves a Hugo. 

Thanks
B.




  

Welcome to "The Cole Hard Truth" 

A pretty lame blog title, but I'll change it once I think of something better. Come to think of it, I don't like this font, either. And you know, I really don't want to blog, either. But "they" say you have to have a blog, and that you have to create a "social" presence. I've resisted the pull to start one, but what the hell. I'm not Steven King. 

Anyway, now that I'm done bitching, welcome to my blog. If this doesn't work, then I reserve the right to take it down, flush down the digital toilet, and try something else. 

Why have I resisted? If I write, I want to write my stories. I see blogging as writing that doesn't lead to stories, that doesn't add to wordcount, that won't . . . .it's just not real writing! 

So what will I blog about? I have no idea. But I promise you, book buddy, that I will post at least once a week. I'll probably create an Evernote file and throw ideas into it as that come. Nifty thing. Evernote. I'm sure I'll talk about writing, reading, and anything that pops into my head. I think I will stay away from politics, religion, and cats. Good things rarely come from those discussions, and I don't have the time to convince you you're wrong. 

Either way, welcome. And I hope you enjoy. 

Thanks
B.