My Book
Well, my debut novel, The Crew (punk/philosophical YA) is doing fairly well. But it’s been a tough haul getting people to review it. So far I have 10 Amazon reviews, all solid. That’s nice—and I’m genuinely grateful—but I want more. One place which is advertising the book has now asked if I want to *pay* for guaranteed 5-star reviews. This strikes me as questionable, if not unethical. I haven’t responded but it seems obvious that I will not pursue this. I don’t think I’d be able to maintain artistic integrity if I did this. Meanwhile I jumped back on Facebook for the first time since 2019 in order solely to promote the book, especially former high school students from 1999-2002. They’ll know many of the book’s characters which are “loosely based” on real people…but only loosely. All names are changed and much of the book is purely of my fertile imagination at this point. When I first began writing the book—in 2008—it was 98% autobiographical, almost a thinly-disguised memoir. Now? It’s more like say 60% “true” (sort of) and 40% completely made up. It’s a hybrid. In other words: A novel. Also, I have updated the book’s cover with quotes from authors, family and friends praising the work.
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My Wife’s Father
Britney’s father has been questioning whether he might be an alcoholic. He had some life issues come up recently, connected to booze. He says he had no idea. It sounds like typical [alcoholic] denial to me. (I relate of course.) He reached out to me and I sat down with him for nearly two hours and simply talked about my experience as a former-drunk (2000-2010), how I got sober at age 27, what the past 13.5 years of sobriety have been like, what the symptoms of alcoholism had been like for me and what motivated me to change. My situation—of course—was much different than his. I was 27 when I came into AA, single, never married, no kids, even no job. I was a weird mix of old soul—I felt ancient in many ways—and extremely immature late-twenties post-punk-pseudo-hipster-angry child. I didn’t have much to lose. All I had were family—estranged at that time—and a spattering of close but reluctant friends. (I was a disaster, like a ticking time bomb.) When I got loaded I almost always blacked-out, and I was Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde. Sometimes I was warm, funny and fun; other times I was belligerent, mean and even violent. Too often I ended up in cuffs, the cold silver bracelets tightened around my wrists like chains. But anyway: I told him my story. Said I’d go to meetings with him. Helped him download the AA app. Etc.
He is drinking again. Such is the usual nature of the beast.
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Mom and Wife and Money
I’ll keep this vague. Basically, my mom has been too involved, let’s say, around Britney and my finances as of late. I want to dial that back. My mom has never been great with clarity or boundaries, and this seems to be another case of needing to step back from the edge of the metaphorical cliff. My mom can suggest, but beyond that I need some space. A month or so ago my wife and I officially started a joint bank account. We dissolved our old separate bank accounts. It was scary and also very thrilling. Overall it’s been a good thing, despite some battles between the two of us over spending habits (mostly mine). She is much more practical than I am about money and spending. She listens to a plethora of financial podcasts. We come from different social (class) backgrounds. I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth; she did not. She works a regular, conventional 9-5 job. I work—erratically, to say the least—from home doing Substack, writing novels and editing others’ books. But this is all a good thing—joining our money—and a normal, healthy part of marriage.
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Reading/Books
I’ve been reading and finally finished Jonathan Sperber’s 2013 560-page biography on Karl Marx. (Read my piece on S.A.W. re Marx here.) Brilliant, fascinating, nuanced take on a famous, often praised and loathed thinker. That was my main takeaway: In today’s world of polarized politics and identity-obsession, not to mention the reality that most people under 30 barely read books anymore and are lavishly obsessed with their digital devices, we’re left with the sordid, vague media accounts of who famous thinkers were and are.
And there’s a new, dumb trend of “presentism,” the idea of foisting 21st century standards on 20th or even 19th century (and going all the way back to the dawn of civilization, really) historical realities.
What emerges, then, is a much more complex, interesting, authentic and mixed portrait of Karl Marx, a man born in a non-unified Germany in 1818 and who died in London in 1883 at the age of 64. Many of his theories are counter to today’s revisionist “Marxist” philosophy steeped in racial and gender concern. I am now reading a biography about Lenin: Lenin: The Man, the Dictator, and the Master of Terror, by Victor Sebestyen (2017). I am intrigued by these men, the original Marxist/communist master theoretician, and the first man to implement (in theory) Marx’s ideas in real time, via revolution in Russia in 1917.
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Spain
We’re moving to Spain, hopefully before 2025 begins. That’s the goal. We hired an immigration lawyer. We’re waiting on fresh checks to add to our passports which we have to mail for renewal. That’s step #1. From there we can get the ball rolling as far as the process goes. It’ll take 5 months to go through the official bureaucratic stuff. But that’s ok. We also need to keep saving up money. We plan to sell both our cars at some point. We’re going to rent Britney’s house out. (My house already is rented out.) Yes, we have a dog and three moody, needy cats. They’re coming, obviously. We’ll live on fixed passive income in Spain and I’ll write the Great American Novel (although I sort of feel like I already did that) while Britney perhaps volunteers at an animal shelter or something like that.
Lompoc is not my favorite town, but it’s not honestly that bad. I just wish we were in Spain now. But my mom is still recovering from her back surgery for a slipped-disk, her 11-year-old yellow Lab tore his second ACL, and she just got both knees replaced over the past six months. All of this started immediately after my father died in June, nine months ago now. Can’t believe Dad’s been gone that long. Wild. Where does the time go?
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Patience
I’m slowly learning the art of patience. I’ve been “slowly learning” this art all my damn life. Once, stupidly, when I was in my early twenties, I almost got “PATIENCE” tattooed on both knuckles of my hands. I’m glad I didn’t. (There are many tattoos I’m glad I didn’t get, and some I wish I hadn’t.) But the art of patience is finally really starting to settle into my heart and soul. Whether it’s the publication of my novel, or my marriage, or my father’s sickness with cancer and ultimate death, or my mom’s emotional and physical needs at the moment, or my Substack growth or lack thereof: All of these things require great patience. Like my mother, I sometimes have a tendency to be impulsive. (I think this is “part of my alcoholism,” too.) I want what I want and I want it now (or, ideally, “yesterday”).
But, what I now comprehend—deeply—and this is an AA motto: You have to accept “life on life’s terms.” In other words: Things in life happen when they happen, according to their own organic axioms, not according to my own personal needs and wants. That’s just Reality, that cold, harsh bitch. I notice that when I can accept things as they are precisely in this exact moment, and let go, and just be with things As They Are…life feels a heck of a lot easier. It just does. Patience is a virtue, and it’s one that I historically have always struggled with. But I’m genuinely getting better at it. Slowly. Bit by bit. Besides, the time passes faster and faster the older I get, the busier I am. Days pass like hours, weeks like days. It all moves in a psychotic, surreal blur.
Your mother is such a dear. I suppose with the loss of your dad--it's understandable? Though boundaries is such a tricky thing. Either we get it, or we don't. And sometimes the idea of mortality is enough to shove the need for boundaries altogether. Because why worry about it when there's more important things to worry about. Thanks for sharing this story about your writing process, Britney, and the new book. Congrats on the launch and good luck with it! -Thalia