Why I write (Girls That Kissed Me/Lies I told)

Not because I’m going to save the world. Not because I have anyone to impress. First and foremost, I write for myself. I try and create – or recreate in story form – those things that mattered to me.

Not all of my motivation comes strictly from other writing. I did not read anything and think “I have to do that” although certainly – love of the written word is a factor.

Here, in no particular order, are some of things that I think about when I write – thing that motivate me to tell the story and to finish it.

Bad Latin: Teo te absolvo. (Or is it Te absolvo?) Teo te adoro. (Or is it Te adoro?) Di absolvo? Di Adoro?  I forgive you. I love you. Do you forgive me? Do you love me? Cute. Cute Latin is bad Latin. But my sentiments are genuine. We all want to be loved; we all need to be forgiven by someone.

• The word “deliberate”. It shows purpose, restraint.

Breathing as a metaphor for life.

• Hands and mouths. Mouths not lips or tongue or teeth, all of which are mere anatomy.

A girl kissed me once. 

Can’t remember exactly how I met her – she was friends with this Elaine who was friends with this Judy. She was the third girl in the car, Elaine and Judy’s friend. Elaine’s dad was a Freemason. I never met him.

I remember her giving me her phone number in the Sandman Inn 7-11 parking lot. I liked her – she was very bold, she smoked and swore.

I never called.

She called me from time to time. One day she finally told me to take her to a movie. We went. I forget the show. I forget who else came – there was a group of us. I took her home – she said goodbye and gave me a kiss. It was an awesome kiss. Really, the best I have ever had and totally unexpected. It was … unchaste. She had beautiful brown eyes, eyes that shined. Her lips were very soft and tasted of whatever lip-gloss she had, and her mouth tasted of licorice and smoke. I have never tried heroin – never needed to – ’cause she kissed me with a kiss like poison and I would always be able to feel it in my spine. Heroin.

Since then there have been hundreds – well, no –  more like … tens of women – but I never forgot that feeling.

Anyways we never went out again. I never called. I lost track of her after that. I had this mason jar by my bed I kept girl’s phone numbers in – numbers written in pen, some even written with eye-liner. You know how it is. I eventually chucked all of them more than 3 months old and then all of them. Many years later I took a computer course at the college – she and her mom were in it. She never spoke to me. She had gained weight and didn’t look happy but her eyes were still beautiful. I remember what I remember the way I remember it so I write.

• Derketa, the Blue Goddess of the Mediterranean before the flood, with her hennaed hair hanging in ropes like the Medusa’s serpentine locks.

Rock Music. Hard Rock. Metal. Blues-rock. Guitars and drums and bass. Some guy in a leather jacket shouting. Punk rock too. Downstroke guitar fast and furious 3 minutes max.

• Tattoos that have a story, scars that tell stories.

The art of Martin Emond.

• The art of Richard Corben.

 Fernando De Felipe’s “Museum” – both art and story.

• While I am at it, Frank Frazetta.

 Lemmy.

• Guns.

The Story of My Life by Social Distortion

• Cowboy boots. I have a custom made pair of black ostrich motherfuckers. $1000-dollar boots. Do I feel good wearing them? Yes I do.

 Muscle Cars

•  Cubic Inches

 Bell’s Theorem. Go on and explain this to me if you can.

• “The Blood of Heroes” with Rutger Hauer and Joan Chen

“Mad Max” and “The Road Warrior” – but not “Beyond Thunderdome”.

• Victor Hugo. I personally like “The Man Who Laughs” – which was out of print for years – the best of all of his works. Sure – it’s flawed – his digressions on the abuses of the English peerage system veer towards being a polemic more than fiction, but from the discovery of the confession of Hardquannone – “He alone who knew all of the operations of Dr. Conquest – including the Bucca fissa usque ad aures …” - this is an epic tale of misery. There are few that can compare.

Hemingway, always always Hemingway, hunting the elephant in Africa in “The Garden of Eden”.

• The Great Gatsby. I too, have loved from afar, with no reward but rejection, no solace save having loved. At least, I feel like that when I read the Great Gatsby over and over again.

 Kundera and Marquez, so much more clever then I.

• The works of Umberto Eco too, too clever by half.

Those stockings with the lines that run up the back. To quote David Lee Roth, “No, no, no, don’t take ’em off – leave ‘em on.”

• The stars and the planets, the sun and the moon. The precession of the equinoxes, which is time itself.

Dreams. Last night I dreamed of a spider. I dreamed I was back in the place where I was raised, walking along the highway in the setting sun of the early summer when the days are still getting longer, my shadow and the shadows of the trees growing tall towards the east. I made a story from this.

• Borges – “The End of the Duel” and “The Library”.

The Lord of the Rings – the appendices.

These are just a few of my things.

My name is Steve Passey and I write fiction.

 

Dating, For the Single Writer

There are two kinds of people in this world:  The unattached and those plotting their escape.

I am of the former (again) and as a single writer dating I have learned a lot, and I don’t mind sharing.

Note – I know some of you are not dating, some never have – some never will. But … most of us are gonna have to learn how to do this and believe you me – it’s a skill. You need to prepare – practice even.

So while your mom might say something bat-shiat crazy like “just be yourself” I am going to give you some genuinely helpful brass-tacks advice.

I am gonna start with the 1^st date because as y’all know: You can’t get a 2^nd date without a 1st one.  All you smart-asses who say “why not just skip to the 3^rd date heh heh heh” … a simple calculation reveals that 0 + 0 = 0, not 3, thus explaining your virgin/chronic masturbator status and smarmy obsession with date #3.

Who can I date?

Anyone who will agree to go out with you – really – the world has 6 Billion + people meaning roughly 3 billion pieces of strange ass out there – and that’s if you are hetero.

And ladies – do not be afraid to ask. Only posers are put-off when a lady asks – and we know what causes their “carpal tunnel”.

If you want to narrow it down – why narrow it down? But if you want to I’ll throw out these rules:

Age: You can date people up to ½ your age + 7 years younger than you are. You can go younger if they are attractive. But not much younger – and for God’s sake stay out of the middle schools.  And although not specifically a “1^st date rule” (it’s more of a relationship thing) remember the “campsite rule” when dealing with younger people – leave the place (person) in better shape than what you found it in. Be kind.

Looks: Subjective – but here’s a formula to determine how good looking you are: Rank all of your previous dates on a scale of 1 – 10 – add them up, divide by their total number and subtract 2. That’s how good looking you are. Yes – your pillow probably cries itself to sleep at night and yes, the object of this lesson is for you to learn a little humility.

Clients: Clients/people you do business with should not be dated unless they are attractive. Then by all means go for it. Remember – if it goes bad you do not want a complaint coming in from some bitter person that has a face like a bag of Saskatchewan road gravel. That’s just plain embarrassing. If you are gonna get in trouble make sure the trouble is brag-worthy.

Co-Workers: Coworkers should not be dated unless they are attractive. Then by all means go for it. “Don’t get fired for fug” is the rule of the day.

Ok – Ground Rules established we are off to …

Where to go? What to do?

I am going to assume that she (or he) found your “if you were a booger, I’d totally pick you first” pickup line enough of an enticement to agree to meet. So I am going to say … Lunch. Yes – you heard me – lunch.

Why?

Hey – You can’t go wrong with lunch.

Lunch has a set start and a set end – and it’s the end you want in case it’s a bad date. And hey – if it’s a good one it just leaves you wanting more.  Lunch is a daytime thing too – and with lots of other lunchers around it’s good for personal security  – unlike say the popular “coffee date” where you exit Tim’s and curse yourself for parking too far away from the streetlight while clutching your car keys between your fingers in case you need to ward off your “date”.

Personally I think hitting a show and getting dessert is good too but it takes longer and it also ends up in a darkened parking lot.

Activity dates (dog-walking/’rock climbing etc.) – meh. I think that’s a reality TV thing. I am talking about dates for real people with busy lives – so lunch it is.

Alcohol! How much?

None! If you are doing the lunch thing you have to go back to work.

If you are not doing the lunch thing I’d concede a glass of wine (for her) and nothing (him). Alcohol is said to loosen the tongue but it does so by cutting off the brain. Save the body-shots for some other time frat boy – it does nothing for you on the 1^st date. Note that if you drink – you get ugly. But if she drinks … you get better looking. Capeche? But only 1 ladies.  3 double screwdriver’s and it’s not heartburn you’re feeling – your boob is in the ashtray. That’s just undignified.

Who Buys?

The gentleman always does. I believe that there is some safety in social convention. So – on a 1^st date – the gentleman always buys. This entitles him to say no more than he was a gentleman.

True story – one of my female chums dated a guy who split the tab – he paid for his – she paid for hers. Not even “down the middle”. To this day she disparages him while he busily tries to friend her FB friends – all of whom she has warned. Remember that this may be your last date – with her – but you will be out and about again and it’s small world. She doesn’t hate the guy – you can rationalize splitting the tab – but is this how you want to be remembered? “The Cheapest Guy on my FB LOLZ”. ‘cause that’s what you are headed for in spite of all your arguments to the contrary. Because of the internet no one’s bastardry can remain a secret for long. No use pining for the good ol’ days – times have changed.

Bonus: He didn’t tip or contribute to a tip.

What to watch for?

I always watch how my date treats the serving staff – you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat people they don’t have to be nice to. Remember – soon enough they will feel they don’t have to be nice to you either.  If she whips that poor busboy with a broken off car antenna for spots on the spoons (or if she uses terms like “flatware” or ‘silverware” … actually any term but “cutlery”) you are merely a little familiarity away from being held in the same contempt and beaten with a car antenna.

So watch for it.

Humour?

Always! With 2 caveats:

1: “Sarcasm” is not humour. Sarcastic people come across as bitter. So don’t be sarcastic.

2: Crude Jokes are not too good of an idea – stupid ones are. The 2 acceptable 1^st date jokes you are allowed to tell are:

Q) What is the hardest part about eating vegetables?A) Peeling them out of the wheelchairs!

And …

A pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel shoved down the front of his pants. The bartender looks over and says “Hey buddy! Doesn’t that bother you” to which the pirate replies …

‘Arrrrrr – it’s drivin’ me nuts!”

Ok – so I got a few jokes – but what to say?

Easy. Stick to stuff you are actually interested in – both of you. As for the other person’s stuff: So what if it’s not interesting? At the 1^st date stage everyone should be willing to play along. Avoid stuff you might feel compelled to lie about – for guys this means your bench, salary, what you are really interested in and for girls this means height/weight and what you are really interested in.

Amber Alert: Scrapbooking. I never could fake interest in that. What scrapbooking is to men model trains are to women and ne’er shall the two interests meet.

Moving on …

Dude!

Make eye contact. Sure – her taters are temptin’ – but make eye contact. She’s not an object. She’s an actual person with interests and feelings and some other stuff like that.

Sister!

Ditch the list. If you have a written list … title it “How to Die Alone” because if you refer to it – even if just mentally – that’s what will happen. He’s there for a date – not a job interview and the “listers” always ALWAYS interview.

Learn to go with the flow

Hey Man!

Have a list. Boy am I gonna get shiat for this one but because men tend to be a little too happy to be sitting across the table from a real live va-jay-jay with legs it might behoove some of the brothers to kind of have a more formal idea as to what makes for a possible second date. Most men realize way too late – like 6 months after the wedding – that they are stuck with a parasite with a va-jay-jay … which kind of takes the fun out of the rest of your life.

You Go Girl!

Talk! Talk a lot. It takes a lot of the pressure off of him – and men dislike carrying the conversation.

Here’s a tidbit for you: Next time you are out in public pick a couple – any couple – and observe: If he is doing most of the talking it’s a 1^st date or very early in “the relationship” – if she is doing it all they have been together for a while.

Anyways – remember – be proactive  ask questions/be interested – sitting there like a lump checking off items against “your list” is not enticing.

Avoid

He should avoid every using “I’ in a sentence as in “I” did this” or “I” will do that. “I” “I” “I” will wear on her and you come across as self-centered. Use ‘We” when referring to your job, your gym exploits, etc because it makes you sound as if you’re a team player with a few friends and helpers.

She should avoid lists. Women tend to list complaints (against other people – usually their ex-es, their mother’s, and former friends) or demands (“I am looking for this in a man”) but it all sounds like “blah blah blah I’m whiny and demanding”.

So don’t do it.

Deal Breakers

These are things that nothing good could come of. So n the 1^st date – Aside from nose-picking … I’d say “secks talk” ruins it for most women (i.e. – don’t tell her she looks like a certain porn star you admire and then just dive on into explaining  why) and for men “relationship” talk (i.e. “how soon would you be willing to get serious”). Because if you ask that question he’ll be movin’ on in a hurry. After all – what’s he got to prove to you? It makes you sound desperate.

True Story: Whenever someone asked me that “how soon” question I told them “whoa whoa whoa … whoa. I think that we should have sex 99 or even 100 times – take a break – and decide from there if we want a relationship or not”.That’s a Sam Malone line (from “Cheers”) and yes – I do say that. I wouldn’t think you should though – I’m just witty enough (and damnably handsome enough) to get away with it – you may not be.

Ending It:

No kissing!

Actually – you can. I think guys should leave this one alone but ladies can initiate one if they want – the “cheek graze” and hug is good enough.

If you had a bad time you may be tempted to say ‘Well fuck you very much for this waste of an hour, let’s never do this gain” but don’t give in to temptation – you should always thank the other person for the date (never for “the time” because that’s lame) and away you go.

The Cardinal Rule

Be cool – it’s A) a date and B) only a date.

Act like you’ve been there before

And that’s that.

Happy dating! If you are going to be eventually financially ruined by someone and have your heart ripped out via your colon and spread on a piece of toast and served to the dog … it’s best to get off to a good start!

Later gators – I’ll be back when someone breaks the seventh seal and those who strayed from the true path burn in the fires of Slor.

Steve

For Readers of My Blog: Disclaimer

I’m not a real Doctor.

The Great Gatsby … reviewed by a kid.

The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite novels of all time. I’m not a pencil-necked critic – I don’t feel the need to defend it – and I am looking forward to going to the movie. Fortunately my oldest went the other night and texted me this hasty review:

“It’s a story with no good guys in it. Tom’s a cheating white supremacist pig. Daisy actually made me hate women and Gatsby, well Gatsby ain’t bad – but he says “old sport” too much and in the end his existence was sooo bleak you’re almost happy he’s dead”

So that’s how it looks to a teenager who has not yet read the book. (He is however, almost through everything Cormac McCarthy has written – He’s a big reader) Thus forewarned I’m going to go see it soon.

On the scale of literary/theater criticism today where Northrop Frye might be at the high end of the scale (criticism as analysis – a tool for understanding)  and youtube commentary at the bottom (typically “f*ck you you f*cking f*ck, you’re a f*cking n*zi”) I’d say the kid is edging more towards the former than the latter.

To me the novel has always been about loneliness – about not belonging even when you try hard to belong and even look – for a while – like you belong. But you don’t.

The movie will have it’s critics as the book does but it doesn’t matter to me – I give not a single gram of fuck what others think – I will go see it for myself.

My name is Steve and I beat on, boat against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past … special thanks to F. Scott Fitzgerald!

Writing: Marketing “Shirlena”

Back at Writing in the Works in Calgary in April I read from a heretofore unpublished short of mine called “Shirlena”. WITW asks specifically for works that have not yet appeared in print ( or online – this is “in the works” part of it) and audience response was really good – especially considering I have a whiny, tubercular voice, poor hygiene (aka I read in “smell-o-vision”) and – as my daddy used to say –  ”a face made for radio”. 

I think it’s invaluable to have an opportunity to read in front of a live audience. The rhythym and flow of actual speech tells you how your work “reads” and you can tell from the expressions on the listener’s faces if they are “getting it” and what/where you are successful and what/where you need to improve the piece.

So today I am sending out “Shirlena”, an Oprah-esque and moving story about redemption and recovery (or something like that) involving a good man, a bad woman, a sweet sweet El Camino … and Satan.

As my friend and fellow writer Minkee says “it’s not doing anything just sitting on your hard drive”.

Another friend (who wishes to remain anonymous) said “Don’t be a pussy”. 

So out it goes. 

Wish me luck.

My name is Steve Passey and I write moving Oprah-esque fiction about redemption, recovery, and Satan.

Ok loyal readers (by which I mean “reader”) – I’m off to meet with my writer’s group.

Most writer’s dream of the day they can quit their day job and write full-time. It never happens ’cause writing don’t pay. So we grind away at our day jobs (Damn you theater seat cushions! Damn you!) and it makes us feel like whores – but not in the good way. However, this gives us something write about … and the world goes round and round.

Fortunately the Unband has a song for that

Rock on, writers.

Steve

Road Trip: Calgary Comic Con and Expo

As you know I am a faithful attendee of Calgary Comic Con and Expo and on April 27th I made my third trip in as many years. I took my oldest and his best friend (the drummer in his band) and my youngest so it was a regular hot dog cart headed up the #2.

Check that pic out – this is how you start a road trip. I’m a Tim’s man from way back. Hot as hell, sweet as love, black as death. I actually don’t put any sugar or sweetener in it but it’s still sweet to me.

Highlights of the trip up:

Man, the stuff you hear when the kids are trapped in the car with you and just sort of forget that you are there.

• “My cousin (name deleted) smoked a whole cigarette, then stole $100 from his dad’s wallet to go buy a slurpee. He runs around naked all the time too. That kid – he don’t give a fuck. He’s 5 now, turns 6 soon – then shit’s gonna get real”
• “A girl in our school has chlamydia. She’s 18 though – a super senior. It’s to be expected.”
• “My boss fake-fired me. He does this shit to everyone. He’s a drama major and does it with a straight face. Let’s fake beat him to death i.e stop when he’s crying and incontinent with fear and see how he laughs that shit off, the fucker!”
• Farting and singing “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas …. isn’t that funny really.
• “Have you sold any more stories?”

Ah shit. They remembered I was there.

In addition the three did a super job of the “Afternoon Delight” scene from Anchorman – the dialogue was spot on, the effects accurate to a fault, and their vocal harmonization … sublime.

Comic Con Highlights:

• He’s still alive? Weird Al Yankovic.
• British artist Simon Bisley had a sign up saying “Accepting donations for beer and hookers” and was drawing on spec for people on poster board with a felt pen. He chatted amiably the whole time. Super guy and a fantastic artist.
• He’s still alive? John Rhys Davies
• $9999 for an authentic “Orcrist” from WETW – $1300 more for the scabbard.
• Best costume: A Minecraft Alice in Wonderland – how they pixel-ated the foam rubber mask I’ll never know. Sorry – I don’t have a pic.
• He’s still alive: John Carpenter. Super short line up for Carpenter – one of the few “celebs” I’d want to meet but I’m not paying $40 for anyone’s autograph – not when it could go to Bisley’s beer and hooker fund.
• Here’s a tip: Wear comfortable shoes.
• Walk in Tattoo Shop – with a book of Celebrity Autographs so you could get your favorite celeb’s autograph on any part of your anatomy for evermore. More on that below.
• Shorter than you would think: Casper van Diem (“Starship Troopers”) and Chris Sarandon (“Princess Bride”)
• About as tall as you would think: Peter Dinklage.
• Worst Costume: Tie – any of the Banes who might have been the biggest guy at their Saturday LAN parties with all the other guys who have never been to a gym but in real life are like Grandma’s feather bed: 6 feet tall, 4 feet wide, and soft as a downy chick. I did see one good one though.
• Narrowly avoided disaster: A Wonder Woman who appeared to be about 5 ran into me from behind while talking on a cell phone.
• Still makes me laugh every time: The Wanted: Schrodinger’s Cat. (Dead & Alive) tee shirts.
• Hey! Good news!  My old Savage Sword of Conan comics that I paid $3.50 for new are now worth …. $5. Minimum!
• I told you he was still alive: Stan Lee. I actually didn’t see him there – his sessions were at a different time than I was around.

All in all Comic Con was a lot of fun. I think the organizers learned from last year and entry/exit was tightly controlled but smooth. It was busy in there – no doubt – but you could move around and breathe.

THIS. IS. SPART … Actually it’s a small boy in a helmet.

I love comics/graphics and for me the show is about cruising the artist’s aisles and the vendor stalls. I understand it’s TV and Film that brings in the bacon though. I don’t resent anyone selling their autograph but I personally won’t pay for one. As for getting someone’s autograph tattooed on me?

WTF?

I’d rather dry-shave my man parts with a rusty skate blade.

But if that’s your thing y’all go on and knock yourself out. (The autographs – not the dry-shaving.)

At any rate – I’m going to next year’s for sure!

That’s all for now folks – I’ll be back after I fight my evil clone to the death in an epic battle on the roof of an abandoned factory.

My name is Steve Passey and I write fiction.

… Wherein I write bad poetry and give it away for free

*Warning* – Please do not read this if you are under 30, over 60, or have a heart condition, high blood pressure, are politically correct according the standards of our day, or merely physically unattractive. Seriously, I want only good-looking people reading. Also – I know I am going to hell for this, so you don’t need to remind me.

OK – you guys probably know I am a serious writer of short fiction but I bet you never knew I was a poet as well. I have loved poetry every since reading “Old Man From Nantucket” for a book report I had to do in grade 8. (I got an “A”).

Like most real poets, I believe that a poem must rhyme, and that iambic pentameter is for wimps and haiku for Japanese wimps. Dactylic hexameter?

Kill yourself. Now. Just do it.

However, there is even less of a market for poetry than there is for real, serious fiction – good fiction … really really good make-you-think (make-you-cry) fiction. Like I write. But I digress. Most poetry is simply dreadful stuff and very often not rhyming. There’s lots of it available for free on the internet, which shows you what its worth. Most poets have to pay to publish their own stuff. Serves ‘em right. They have to pay to publish and they would have to pay me to read it.

But here – for you select few – for free – are my poems – and in the tradition of VH1’s “Storytellers” a brief description of how these poems came to be. Every poem here is based on actual events, just like Coleridge-Taylor’s “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner” because it takes real events to inspire words both beautiful and true … that rhyme.

Ode to the Skinny Girl in Safeway With the Noticeable Mustache

Sweet Merciful Jesus!

Kill it.

Kill it with fire.

Please

The Story: Ok – that did not rhyme, but that’s the poem that was going through my mind when I saw “it”.  I am not prejudiced! I like ‘em skinny, I like ‘em fat, I like ‘em all … but I draw the line at a ‘stache.

Honest sentiments, but mediocre start. Off to the next

The Guy That Used to Bench Large, Back When He Used to Train

In a new gym, the kid in jeans and a wife-beater came up and waited for my set to end

When I was done he said most curiously

“Whatever it is you are benching Bro, I used to bench 10 pounds more

Seriously Bro – Seriously”

People ask me what I bench and I always say ‘A hundred’ and when they ask what that looks like I point to the bar regardless of what’s on there. I kid you not.

The inspiration for the poem? A kid came up to in the “whaddya bench” scenario in the small town gym I train in – he had a name tattooed on his neck. I asked “The name – is that your daughter?”

“No” he said

“Wife?” I said

“No’” he said

“Mom?” I said – I have my best “Can I help you” smile on now.

“Ex Girlfriend” he said and then looking away “I think it was 260, back when I was training for wrestling”.

Training for Pud-Wrestling maybe – And to get his future X’s name tattooed on his neck.  I bet she didn’t get his on her neck because “Shitbox” is not brag-worthy– even where I’m from.

It’s always hard to title a truly great poem – I think this one should have mentioned “Roe vs. Wade” but it didn’t flow.

The Multi-Level Marketing Sonnet

You are not going to get rich

You are not going to have any fun

The dollars and friends you’re left with

Will both add up to “none”

The Story: A great many of you are probably nodding your head in sad agreement as you read this. I don’t begrudge anyone making a buck, but some of these “programs” are kind of cult-ish. Hey – just because I won’t sign on doesn’t mean that I don’t like you, nor does it mean I should be burnt at the stake when the econo-pocalypse comes and you are out there dispensing justice.

The Financial Planner’s Blue’s

Hey there investor – I have a proposition

To make you 50 Large

Just start with about 100

Whoops! I guess the market is in charge.

The Story: Ah – we’re all in the same boat right. But word to the wise – if your Financial Planner is wearing their shirt untucked these days – it’s to hide their cardboard belt.

Anyways – there they are – four poems – words beautiful and true. Words that rhyme. And free.

I’ll be back when I remember the “safe word” and mistress unlocks my cuffs.

My name is Steve Passey and I write fiction

Writing Tips: Writer’s Groups

Association with other writers can be very useful for improving a writer’s craft. Meeting for regular review/critique/feedback and appetizers/beverages can be constructive and even – dare I say it – fun.  There are some famous examples of writer’s groups. The Bloomsbury group with Virginia Woolf and Lytton Strachey is on such example, and J.R.R. Tolkein and C.S Lewis belonged to an informal group called “the Inklings”. Tolkein was apparently nicknamed “Tollers” within the group – so yeah – even back in the day the Professor had his bro’s. Everyone needs a few bro’s.

Writers work in a fair amount of social isolation and it’s a balm to the soul to talk to people who understand – and live – the same struggle. On those sunny days when your piece is accepted you can bask in the warm glow of congratulations and professional jealousy with the only other people who understand.

Not every writer likes the idea. Harlan Ellison apparently dislikes the idea intensely, which is hard to imagine given his reputation for mildness. I like it, but I  am in a great writer’s group. The members have some publication credits, and range from contest winning and many-times published veterans to hopeful newbies. All can really write and their insight and feedback has made me into the once-published (with one pending – yes – pending counts!) goddamn force of literary nature that I am today.

I think the key to a successful writer’s group is to have a variety of roles filled by key members. You cannot have everyone doing the same thing. You need a division of labor and that division must suit the skills and personalities of the individual writers involved.  Using our group as an example here’s a template of what you need:

The Mentor. Someone who has multiple publication credits and is more than a one hit wonder with an occasionally witty blog – i.e a professional writer. They’ve done a couple of laps around the publication track and can provide wise counsel and constructive advice/encouragement not only on writing but on the business of writing.

Note that the line between “Mentor” and “Enabler” is a blurry one and … that’s ok. It’s a writer’s group – not rocket surgery. Who’s up for one more? We’re submitting this tomorrow!

The Guy (or Girl) Who Used To Be in Band. Because your daytime job will never be that cool. I know mine isn’t. I swear to God if I see another theater seat cushion … but yeah. The rocker will have interesting stories to tell and everyone digs music.

The Designated Driver: Someone’s gotta drive.  You know, on a hockey team they’ll have a stay-at-home defenseman. Their job is to prevent anything really bad from happening. Same with the DD. This isn’t a glamorous job but it’s at least as important as any other – especially if you’ve got an enabler on the crew.

The Ex-Pat: Basically; someone from another country. It’s “inclusive” and it’s great for translation services. My group is not that wealthy – our ex-pat is an American. That’s all we could afford. Sadly they are moving back to the land of private health care, cheap bacon, and local militias so we’re taking applications.

The Dude With the Interesting Life: You know the type. Some stories are too good to write down but must be told right? Copy-and-pasting their Facebook Status Updates is often better than most first drafts anyone else can come up with. Their chances of being dubiously immortalized in the other group member’s fiction once they suffocate under that pile of women’s-prison escapees they are driving to California in a rented van are very, very high but … no one will do it while they are alive. We need them.

The Rich Kid: This person may not write at all. They may not even read. They are not necessarily a kid. But try and find one anyways – they’re usually good for a round or two or 4 or holy shit where’s the Designated Driver I-not-only-can’t-hold-onto-the-table-I can’t-hold-onto-the-floor. “You guys are the best writers – and the best people – ever. I really mean that.” *cries*

We’re currently taking applications. I believe that there is a special place in heaven reserved for people who will buy frustrated authors round after round of Honey Jack Daniels. Contact me via this blog if you’re A) Wealthy and B) Interested.

The Guy Who is Not Nearly as Smart/Funny/Talented as He Thinks He Is: Hey – we all have a role to play.

That’s a basic template – you may have to adjust to suit your group – and I may have missed something. Free feel to let me know.

Thanks for reading – I’ll be back when I gnaw my way through the restraints.

My name is Steve Passey and I write fiction.

Writing in the Works 2013 – Book it. Done

WITW 2013 was held at the Memorial Park library in Calgary Thursday night – and it rocked. Ken Cameron, Inge Trueman, Roberta Rees and Lori Hahnel delivered stellar readings with yours truly tagging along for the ride. The crowd was super and the wine/cupcakes an added bonus.

The “after” party was held at the Hop In Brew Pub which was – as always – excellent.