Trig Speaks Up! Bonus Burn Baby Burn Baby Material!

BURN BABY BURN BABY has been out for almost a year now! During last year’s blog tour I wrote this post AS Trig… The narrator’s best friend. Here it is copied in full here. TRIG SPEAKS!

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Hey. Trig here. I’m the best friend guy from Burn Baby Burn Baby. First off, my actual name is Zach Triggs. I just read Francis’s story. He only used my real name, like, one frigging time in the entire story. I know it wasn’t my story, or anything…but still. Holy. I guess it’s okay though, considering even the teachers call me Trig. My real name doesn’t even register. Okay, so he’s off the hook.

I’m not here to complain about that. I just…I have so many feels about what I just read. Francis is my boy, dude. I would kill for him. Like, literally kill you dead kill for him. And not just because of what his brutal non-human ‘rent did to him, either. We were tight long before his father went psycho and set him on fire. Seeing him go through that shit, though…it changed me.

Truth? I sometimes think about those days, back when he lived in the hospital going through all those grafts and operations, and I just sit and bawl like a baby.

I never tell Francis about that, though. Hell, I don’t even tell my girl about those times. Georgia and I are soul mates. We’re together forever, but I try not to talk to her about France. I just have a never let them see you cry life policy. It’s hard sometimes, when I think of the hell my boy Francis has been through. So I save my crying for when I’m home alone.

Everything Francis talked about in his story was the truth. Man, he laid out his heart. He goes on and on–and on and on–about how he’s gonna take me with him to the Oscars when he goes to accept his first award for Best Director. But for real, maybe he could write the stories that get made into movies. With a little practice, you never know…I might get to go to the Oscars one day for real.

What I really wanted to say is that Francis was way too hard on himself in his story. When you read it, try to remember that in real life we don’t see all the emo stuff. His inner dialogue is clearly pretty heavy. I didn’t know he was so negative, to tell you the truth. In real life he’s more guarded about the stuff that hurts him. It kind of tears my heart open to know he’s in such turmoil all the time. He really should cut himself some slack. He’s a way cool dude. I love him like a brother.

Oh. Speaking of brothers. Please don’t think Francis is a douchenozzle for all the stuff he said about Paul Simon. I think he really comes off kind of bad there. But I can tell you firsthand, those boys are the sun for him. He loves them like mad crazy. You remember the part in the story where he made a mental note to pick up glow in the dark stars for Paul and Simon? Yeah. We spent a day looking for those damn things. A day! I told him we should just take the ones from his ceiling and put them on their ceiling. Dude, I thought he was going to cry. Apparently Seventeen-year-old boys still need the universe above them while they fall asleep at night.  He is such a little boy.

Before I go, just two more things. Number one…I am not an Anger Management poster child. I don’t know what Francis was talking about. I’m not this ready-to-blow-volcano-of-hostility. If anything, you can just consider me passionate. Yeah, passionate…I’d be happy with that. Number two…the Shakespeare stuff. I’m guessing you probably want to know how I feel about that? It really hurt my feelings. A lot. You know a guy your whole life and you think you know everything about him until he starts quoting every damn word Shakespeare ever wrote. I was like, what the hell? But I guess I’m over it. So we don’t tell each other everything. Maybe he’ll keep writing his story and I’ll find out the things he doesn’t tell me about that way.

Anyway, Francis. He’s my best friend. My boy. If you haven’t checked out Burn Baby Burn Baby yet, you should. Not like I’ll beat the crap out of you if you don’t or anything. Like I said, I’m not as hostile as he makes me out to be. He’s just a great guy. I think you’ll like what he has to say.

Trig, out.

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You can visit my author page on Amazon to read the first couple chapters of BURN BABY BURN BABY! Download it today! Or order the paperback wherever books are sold.

One Step Closer to the Death I Will Become – My Autumn is Upon Me

edwardtoys
Simple Beauty – A boy and his menagerie

As summer turns to fall, I enter a period of deep reflection. It has always been this way. Even before I discovered Robert Frost’s NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY, I had a deep appreciation for the importance of the time between summer and fall. It is that drop in the life-cycle of a calendar square that pulls at my heartstrings. And as day seeps away into the gloaming…that is the time when I want to scream. Look at me. Most people mix metaphors. Me? I mix poets and their poems. I’m just feeling so verklempt of late. I smell the changing seasons. I see these brushstrokes of hot orange and burnt sienna and mustard yellow in the trees about me and I ache inside. Now, more than ever. Because I know now that somewhere inside of me I am slowly turning to these colours myself. I have entered my own gloaming. And, yet, what have I done. I also continually imagine Jim Morrison screaming something about having a good world when I die.

Probably, Jim. Maybe. I don’t know, Jim. Maybe not. Leave me alone, Jim.

The gloaming...as beautiful as it is heartrending. The end of the day...
The gloaming…as beautiful as it is heartrending. The end of the day…

And then, don’t even get me started, I think of that song from Rent. Oh, you know the one…don’t pretend you don’t. Seasons of Love.

The mornings are a bit crisper, a bit more dewy. The sun often feels brighter this time of year…more piercing, just as it feels less heat-filled. Its glare seems more honest in September and October than it did in July. The year is winding down, and it is fighting against the inevitable…because the year is happy to be alive. And it gets happier the closer it gets to its own demise. As though it can feel the forever nap it is about to embark upon…and it rebels in the only way it knows how. It blows up into a miracle of colour and light.

Just to float on the sea, find myself on a page of history...

“I am here! This is me! I AM.”

And the year, it is so desperate not to die. It holds a ghetto-blaster up in the air and it says, “Take me as I am…do not forsake me. I will love you, if only you will let me stay here…in your life…in your love.”

And the year that is slowly dying…it plays for us a song to keep our attention. To justify its staying when it knows it cannot. It tries to tempt and trick the heart. “I can stay,” the year says, “if you love me enough.”

How do we authenticate our lives? As the leaves burst into colour–and then later dry out and abandon all hope and wither to the ground–we too are changing. We may not know when, or why, or how, or where we die. But we all walk that Eventual Eventual. If we don’t contemplate our journey while taking it, what’s the point?

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make...

There is only one thing that matters. LOVE. The rest fades to black, as we ourselves do. The history of us eventually fades…but the love? Imagine love as a virus. It carries from one person to another and another and another. It is the one thing that doesn’t truly die with us.
Look for miracles...they are everywhere...
Look for miracles…they are everywhere…
As leaves gather around your feet this autumn, remember that you will not be spared this great equalizing season. You are witness to the autumn around you just as autumn begins inside you. And when winter comes, be ready…at least in your heart. Let the things that do not matter fall away. It’s the only way you’ll gain ground for more love to enter.

Love - It's guilt edged Glamorous and sleek by design...

As the last leaves fall, you will scream NOT YET, NOT YET, NOT YET! But you know…as sure as you live and breathe, you know!

Ponder your life. Forgive. Let go. Heal. And when you’re ready to shuffle off this mortal coil, remember one thing, my lovelies…DO IT TO THE BEAT OF LOVE and DO IT IN DANCE…

Do not go gentle into that good night – Dylan Thomas, 1914 – 1953

Nothing Gold Can Stay – Robert Frost, 1874 – 1963

This time of year. It always makes me a little bit more insane. And sad. And happy…gloriously happy. I will not go gently into this coming autumn.

LISTED – Things in the Writer’s Toolbox

It’s been a while since I made a list here. I’ll try not to make this one too preachy or ranty. I will preface this list by saying it’s all been said before and you probably already know it all if you’re a writer. We should often remind ourselves of the important tools we have…because it’s so easy to forget the obvious.

What should every writer be equipped with? What are the necessary accoutrements to the handy box of tools they should always carry around with them?

  1. Vocal Cords – Seriously, this one cannot be stressed enough. What is one of the best things you could do for your writing? READ IT OUT LOUD. Where you hitch, fall, slumber, stall, falter, or stumble is where the reader will do the same. However you want to name it, if the flow derails while you’re reading aloud…there’s a good chance the same thing is going to happen with your reader. More than anything else, reading out loud allowed the writer to ensure that they are saying what they mean and meaning what they say. This is true of whatever you write…be it poetry, articles, plays, novels, short stories…what have you. It’s especially useful with dialogue…but don’t discount it with narrative. READ OUT LOUD.
  2. Always carry SOMETHING with you for note taking. When I first started out, the something was a pocket sized notebook and a pen. Now, it’s my Smartphone. I can just haul it out and jot a quick note for later. It’s not just for Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Use your phone as a writer. If, that is, you would prefer it to the good ole notepad. Whatever works…just don’t be without SOMETHING. Sometimes you only get one chance at grabbing a fleeting idea. I know this because I have lost a few in my time. “Oh, I’ll remember it!” has so often become, “Shit! What was that great idea I had for my next novel. It was SO good. What the hell was it?”
  3. READ. READ. READ. Be inspired by the work of others. Read in the genre/market you like to write in. THEN…read in genres/markets you don’t particularly care for. All good stories are fundamentally the same when you look at them through the eyes of a writer. You can get from them craft and style and wisdom. Don’t discount whole genres…if the story is well written it will be elevated from the genre in which it sits. It will teach you how to be a better writer.
  4. See 1. BUT find a way to do this in front of an audience. Find an open mic for writers in your area. Once you have read the work aloud to yourself–and made necessary edits based on how the words sounded to your ear–read it aloud to others. If there are no venues supporting open mic for writers in your area…organize one. Or read in front of volunteers. Another idea would be to have others read your work aloud TO YOU. That way, you can follow along with a second copy and see where they stumble. Edit as you go. I can’t say enough how important a step it is to HEAR what you write.
  5. Keep a file somewhere (either in the back of a notebook, or on your computer or some other device) called POSSIBLE TITLES. Dump your spur of the moment nuggets into this file. I don’t know about other writers, but for me…I ALWAYS have titles come to me randomly. Maybe in passing dialogue, or ads, or newspapers or websites…you see a string of words or hear a string of words and think, “Hmmm…that would make a great title.” Or, out of the blue silence of your interior monologue will come up a title fully formed. Latch onto it…jot it down. Use this file as jumping off points. If you’re struggling to begin something, read the titles and see if any of them speak to you. They could be novel titles, poem titles, article titles…what have you. The point is, they rose up to the surface and you had an aha moment. Save it for later. Use it. That’s what writers do.
  6. THE GOLDEN HOUR – Have a golden hour in every single day of the year. Dedicate this hour to WRITING. Don’t deviate. Sure, find a seven hour period one day in the fall where you write non-stop and amaze yourself with that day’s word count. But still…always have that one dedicated sacred hour. You will understand the need for it once you’ve been doing it for a number of weeks, months, years.
  7. See 3. Only this one is perhaps a bit more fun. GO TO THE MOVIES. Enjoy the movie with popcorn or nachos or whatever it is you gorge on when you’re at the movies. But go! And truly, enjoy it…but also bring your analytical writer mind with you. Have it sit in the seat beside you. Share your munchies with it. Make sure it is paying attention to the dialogue and the space between the dialogue while you’re laughing or crying or whatever it is the words are making you do. Every story has a story to tell the writer. If you pay attention, you will receive it. It could be what to do or what not to do. It could be megalithic or it could be subtle. PAY ATTENTION. Writer mind will watch the movie with a critical eye, even as you are busy filling your face with popcorn.
  8. Be aware of who you are. Know thyself. I say this because only when you know yourself will you be ready to hear WRITING ADVICE. When you just aren’t sure…you will attempt to follow ALL WRITERLY ADVICE blindly. And, my friend, you will drive yourself batty in the process. Do this, don’t do that…the advice is rampant and most of the time it comes across as absolute. THIS IS THE ONLY WAY is the ugly trapping of quite a lot of the advice for writers floating around out there. ONLY WHEN YOU KNOW YOURSELF can you call bullshit to the advice that doesn’t work for you. AND NO MATTER HOW SUCCESSFUL THE WRITER GIVING IT IS…DON’T LISTEN TO IT IF IT DOESN’T WORK FOR YOU. Don’t discard it as bad advice…don’t ever do that. If someone is considerate enough to give advice, it probably comes from a place of good intention…it is probably something that has proven to work for them. BUT writing advice is a tricky thing. Not all advice works for all writers. You have to find your way. It’s great to read how-tos or, say, lists like this one…BUT there is no BIBLE OF ALL THE RIGHT ADVICE THAT YOU MUST FOLLOW OR DIE. There is only YOU…and your words. So be kind to yourself when you are seeking writerly advice. Try it all if you want, but do not be rigid in your stubbornness to follow it all. That would just be impossible. KNOW THYSELF.

That’s enough ranting for now. Just write…