On The Road With Al and Ivy: A Literary Homeless Chronicle - March 2022

"If she moves her eyes and opens her mouth just a little, the world she's trying to refuse will rush into her instantly..."

- Yukio Mishima (The Temple Of The Golden Pavilion, 1956)

The first historical example of free speech was in 200,000,000 B.C. which was documented on a Sumerian cuniform tablet unearthed during a Huntsville, Alabama Easter Egg hunt in 1978 by a child who unfortunately damaged the document by trying to eat the relic thinking it was a peanut butter chocolate egg. [Citation needed, some critics claim that the petrified fragment was actually a boiled Easter egg that was left in the field from the previous egg hunt in 1977]

The ancient excerpt, which an internet expert (who declines to identify himself) says is part of the first volume of the Lost Gospel of Murgatroyd, relates that the great King Nubilecanazzer McDougal the Glorious One, had just sentenced a peasant to several days of torture for unauthorized viewing of the Queen's royal buns (everyone just wore jewelery and yoga pants in those days) and the wag replied that said offense was impossible because the blinding light from such a shiny glutus blinded his wretched eyes.

This clever paradigm of free speech lasted about two minutes before the Monarch ordered a guard to cut the trailblazer's head off. The King's proclamation specified that any remarks the head might make while on display in the parking lot of the local supercenter were not subject to the King's approval. This was the first known example of protected speech as a matter of law.

...further evolution of free speech...

Internet scholar and Shitzu U Professor IvyDog noted that ancient tribes living in what is now the city of Chicago determined that it was probably better that any last words be spoken before execution, and to allow wide latitude over the subject matter, since any smartass remarks would be punished in the afterlife by the God's in a galaxy far away.

There's always been free speech. The question was how long the speaker would live afterwards, or if the point was worth the calories necessary to move the mouth muscles to form the words.

The Founding Fathers who created the U.S. Constitution kept the matter purely in the legal sphere, if for no other reason that it's virtually impossible to prevent societal suppression which ranges from angry mobs, gatekeepers, cancel culture, commissar types, or anyone offended enough to beat the crap out of the speaker. 

Think in terms of adolescent behavior and you'll get the picture. In the words of the great German theorist and war monger, Santaclausewitz Dill, "War is just a continuation of high school scheisse."

...the First Amendment...

The savvy Internet user knows the First Amendment was created to allow people to insult each other and express banalities that no one wants to hear in the hope that something profound or relevant might be expressed, though decades of web activity indicates that it's a long shot.

Indeed, free speech needs to be nurtured and protected, unlike butt kissing, compliments, flattery, arguing about football, lying on dating site profiles, deceptive sales pitches and claims of superhuman sexual prowess or spiritual divinity (particularly in the music industry) which historically have met with enthusiasm and acceptance.

The thing about the concept of free speech is that the letter of the law states that it's an absolute, but like the Gospel or the process of scientific discovery, mankind has added the innovation of the "spirit of the law" concept which allows such pure ideals to be riddled with loopholes, exceptions, abuse, and of course, anything that expedites the process of squeezing every last dollar from people.

In other words, you can say wherever you want, but you'll be punished for it by every legal and extralegal means possible. A person can publish a controversial book, for example, but others may ban it, burn it, give it an insulting one star review or heaven forbid, not buy it. Married couples and families say things to each other that would normally require trauma counselors in the public arena.

...just sayin'...

Actually, just talking will get you into trouble these days, particularly on the Internet which guarantees the right to punish free speech. American jurisprudence recognizes this and the Fifth Amendment protects the right to clam up and not say anything that might incriminate them. 

It goes without saying that it also means that others will assume guilt, put words in the uncooperative poltroon's mouth, concoct outrageous theories to explain the silence, and relentlessly try to badger and  intimidate them into speaking, and that's just sports talk radio and cable news; it gets even tougher in the real world.

Silence is often considered a sign of submission but if that was all there was to it, then despots wouldn't need secret police and informants. No fascist is truly happy until they control what's going on inside people's heads.

...a penny for your thoughts...

Suppressing free speech is generally about thought control, or as George Orwell put it in his essay, The Prevention Of Literature, "Even a single taboo can have an all-round crippling effect upon the mind, because there is always the danger that any thought which is freely followed up may lead to the forbidden thought."

Although the most common examples are religious or political; suppression of free speech and thought is also present in the social or artistic spheres. The desire to create unity or agreement often degenerates into conformity, coercion, peer pressure, and expensive vinyl record box sets.

Whether this or that group eats it's own or turns into a snake pit is irrelevant to most people (if they're consenting adults) but it's a issue for an artist doing a noncommissioned work. There's always a conflict between integrity and compromise.

Political oppression is or isn't a factor depending on what country you're talking about. In the U.S. an artist can get away with almost anything in the political sphere (in their melancholy search for controversy). Pressure generally comes from society or peers which can result in being shunned or a tendency to self-censor.

...perception...

That's as far as I'd go in commenting on the political aspect as, particularly in regards to the Internet, because the further one goes into the subject, the more it becomes about perception and context.

It's the same with maintaining artistic integrity in the face of market forces. The line between that pressure and the artist's ability to produce salable art can get pretty blurry. An artist can create a work that glorifies or advocates commiting a crime or socially unacceptable act, but any resulting controversy can't necessarily be characterized as an attack on free speech if the aim was to get people to fork over the cash.

A classic attack on free speech uses tactics or measures to prevent it in the first place. Once the idea is openly expressed any oppressor is half-beaten. That's why totalitarian forces use secret police and informants. They don't worry much about the public acts of defiance. As John Lennon once said, they know how to deal with open violence. The ideal solution is to ensure no one discusses freedom in private, where most revolutions are born.

In the artistic sphere, that means compelling artists to self-censor. Orwell describes the result as, "If he is forced to do so, the only result is his creative faculties will dry up."

...freedom of thought...

The underlying issue is freedom of thought. To quote Orwell again, "Freedom of the intellect means the freedom to report what one has seen, heard, and felt, and not be obliged to fabricate imaginary facts and feelings." [Note: Modern writers understand that exceptions include political speeches, rock star biographies, cable news, health food claims, and legitimate attempts to ruin someone's life by spreading vicious gossip on the Internet]

Intellectual or artistic freedom is very much about nuance and context, which are products of an artist's perception or intent and the details most often attacked in a controversial work of art.

...Temple Of The Golden Pavilion...

One good example is Yukio Mishima's "Temple Of The Golden Pavilion," which was based on a true incident that shocked Japan in the 50s. It's not so much an example of free thought as the product of it.

The novel is about a young Monk who inexplicably sets a fire that destroys the famous Kinkaku-ji temple, aka The Golden Pavilion in Kyoto in 1950. On the surface it appears to be a senseless act and the young Monk gives no explanation at first. His motive eventually comes out in interviews with the police, and Mishima researched the reportage and even talked with the young man in prison before writing the book.

The book is considered one of Mishima's finest, and is well documented on the web, so those who want to know all the details can research it using their favorite search engine. 

What's remarkable is that Mishima wrote the book entirely from the point of view of the young Monk, a true dispassionate account. As I've said in the past, that can be a rare kind of book. Particularly in the Internet era, that kind of nuance can be construed as sympathy or even tacit approval of a behavior or point of view.

Also, Mishima was a person who would have been controversial right now; a militant right wing Nationalist who wasn't "politically reliable" due to his artistic side, and thus found himself at various times criticized and attacked by both sides of the political spectrum.

...the temple...

Mishima writes long descriptive passages about the temple in the book, which makes sense as it became the young Monk's obsession, but he mixes in thoughts, commentary about the war (WW2), various interactions, and what can seem like off the wall details that subtly add more depth to the narrative. It's an early example of that Japanese form called an "essay novel," which combines historical narrative with story details so that by the end, you've have the backstory but also a feel for the Monk's personality.

The young arsonist in real life was a schizophrenic, but Mishima doesn't use that label or include medical details about that mental illness. Explaining the technical details in the narrative is something a modern writer might do, but here it's all about what's going on inside the character's head.

That's a subtle distinction but an important one. The young accolyte obsesses on details that most would consider petty or strange, and the author follows those trains of thought and behavior, making no attempt to rationalize any of it or offer any explanation. It takes discipline and a willingness to trust the reader and to resist the temptation to explain or judge to avoid having people think that it's really the writer's thoughts or to showcase how thorough the research was.

...the nurse...

One central incident is the Monk's hatred for a young nurse he hardly knows, and the conviction that his will caused her later death. In actual fact, there was virtually no connection, but in his mind, there was an obsessively detailed narrative that's more chilling than any clinical description a psychiatrist or expert could give.

In other words, an author can explain that this or that obsession is dangerous or venal, or a movie can show the emotion or violence, but not the kind of insight one can get from seeing the actual thought process or inner dialogue.

Mishima understood one aspect of obsession, which was every detail has the same weight or effect. One very small encounter with the nurse turned into a significant incident that became part of the narrative of the imagined relationship. Later on, though he was only a distant observer of her death, it felt as personal as if he'd done the deed himself.

Mishima wrote this book in an era where there was less incentive to make it more marketable by sensationalizing the weird details, so the build up towards the final obsession that compelled an act of arson on a national treasure has a twisted and detailed logic. It was the culimation of a lifetime of perceived slights and injustices.

...reads like poetry...

Another aspect of Mishima's style was that many of the passages are poetic, at least in the Japanese sense of the word. There's lots of interesting imagery, described in a spare, zen-like style, and digressions that fans of Marcel Proust or James Joyce would be familiar with.

The Temple Of The Golden Pavilion by Yukio Mishima was one of the best psychological novels of it's time and is still highly regarded now. The passages that combine stream of consciousness, historical events, and action are worth reading by anyone who studies the art of writing.

Mishima was a man who blew hot and cold and his own life was a series of spectacular successes and failures, but he could put that all aside and put himself into the mind of another and tell that monk's story. Perhaps that was possible because he saw something of himself in the extremes of that young man's personality, but the compelling story that resulted showed that above all else, Mishima was an artist. 

That's probably why, as Orwell would have said, he was politically unreliable, but that's also why the art he created was so great.

Now live on Kindle Unlimited 

Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FGWKK19K

...March update on The Quitters...

I'm well into the third month of "The Quitters" and while it's had it's ups and downs, it's been a great experience. I enjoy writing, so how could it not be? 

The Amazon bonus system on Vella was a pleasant surprise. I'd keep writing even the readership was nonexistent, but it's still nice that the book is generating income on top of the royalties.

The promo has evolved from pics to music videos/book trailers. I have a sizable amount of instrumental music on the Electric Fog Factory YouTube site so these videos combine my two main projects. It's quadrupled the traffic to the music site so it's working out well. 

Those who've seen the video have noticed that the music is eclectic and that the "theme song" that's played during the last part where the book info is shown sounds more New Wave or Alternative. Which is sort of true, but the cut, "Rug Becomes Sky" is very much in the mold of one of the legendary First Wave bands, Television. 

Music Video Book Trailers one and two for "The Quitters" by Al Handa, a Serial Novel on Kindle Vella. Both 1&2 now on YouTube! Features 60s rock, #EDM #Dub, rockabilly, psychedelic, acid jazz and #punk music from DJ Boogie Underground, Mark McGraw and Handa-McGraw International on YouTube. 

https://youtu.be/W_WC_t45bPQ

...punk in 1977...

Punk in 1977 was diverse, and hadn't narrowed into the hardcore image that many have of it today. In fact, it was so varied that even Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers were initially identified as a punk band. In other words, it was difficult to put a label on it, though the press focused on the Sex Pistols and the leather crowd.

But, it was all good. Some of my favorite bands of all time came out of that first wave, like Television (and the solo work of Tom Verlaine), XTC, Wire, Ramones, Sex Pistols, Clash, Buzzcocks, Chris Spedding, Siouxie, Eddie and the Hot Rods, Nick Lowe, Blondie, Patti Smith, and Talking Heads. Add in the ones I didn't name and you have a wide variety of styles and sounds.

...coming in April...

April will be a big month for the book, as the exposition phase is almost done, so I can move the various story arcs into meatier subjects like music industry corruption, payola, rock press, myth making and good old boy sexism. That's an important point as myth often becomes popular history.

The time period of this book encompasses the early days of feminism and the sexism females experienced in the music world (which was nothing new). The punk mythos was that more female bands and stars emerged than in rock, which was true, though nowhere near the number Top-40 produced.

Most of the opportunities for females in the music industry were in classical, popular or Top-40. It doesn't need to be argued that rock and roll was a boy's club. Just look at the existing documentation and music charts. The small number of exceptions only make it more obvious.

...women and opportunity...

Women did find more opportunity in the early punk movement, and if able to find their own sound and move past the hardcore punk genre, found great success in the more mainstream categories like New Wave, power pop, alternative, etc, particularly with the rise of MTV which helped them bypass the normal channels in the industry.

Feminism in the 70s was just past the "bra burning" stage and still finding it's way. Even liberal males resisted the movement though perhaps willing to pay lip service to the concept of equality. There were exceptions but none that showed that sexism didn't exist. My book won't be a definitive look at the movement, which is better documented elsewhere, but it was a factor so it's addressed in the book.

It was never my intent to write another fluff tale (like the Buddy Holly Story movie) so the episodes coming in April should make for interesting reading and on my end, enjoyable and rewarding to write.

Chapter Overview With Samples:

With eight chapters live, those who've read the book can see that the various plot and character arcs are starting to really develop. The first three chapters, which describes an audition gig in real time, has bits and pieces along with the action passages that begin to flesh out the personalities involved.

As you can tell from the chapter titles, this isn't going to be a mythological bad boy punk story where everyone wears ripped t-shirts. If for no other reason, SF Punk wasn't like the press photos and canned interviews. There was a definite intellectual or anti-intellectual atmosphere in the scene, and plenty of tongue-in-cheek talk. There's a definite strain of black humor (and slapstick) in the proceedings. You really had to have a sense of humor in that scene.

Also, how Nym's personality and musical skill develops is important later when the scene shifts to Southern California, with it's considerably larger and more diverse music scene.

Chapter 3 and 4 are a break from the fast paced action, and gives the reader a glimpse of Nym's world, of the motivations and aspirations, introduces a new character, and creates a more complex picture of Jesus Guy, who comes off a really weird dude in the earlier chapters.

The idea is to give the free chapters more substance, and insert a new one that I was going to write later, but decided needed to be earlier in the story. Most readers who visit Vella will get 200 free tokens, so the changes don't affect my chapter plan. That many tokens will get you through most of the book.

The new Chapter 3 will follow Nym after the gig. This will give the reader more insight into Nym's personality. This new chapter will be live around Feb. 17th or sooner if it's completed before then.

Chapters 5 and 6 pick up the pace, though each features more character development. Both Ross and Stew show flamboyant public personas which turn out to be more interesting and detailed in Chapter 8. 

Chapter 7 focuses on Marly, the promoter who's infamous for his tough comedy routine to clear the Club before closing. As you go deeper into the book, it'll become obvious that a large part of the Punk scene is part of his long range plan that mostly succeeds, but also has the seeds of future discord and division.

Chapter 8 is a personal favorite (along with 4 and 6), as it gives me a chance to put many of the characters in one place and able to talk casually. There's a hint of future controversy that'll create a lot of turmoil in the later chapters.

The chapter 9 excerpt is from an episode that isn't completed yet, but Nym's personality is fleshed out further, both in inner dialogue and as seen by a couple of other characters.

...Chapter Excerpts...

Chapter 4: Nym’s Cool World

"It's a crisp August evening in the sin section of Broadway Street. The summer crowds are gone, and the sound of cars and busses are replaced by the shrill, desperate pitches of strip joint barkers now fishing in depleted waters.

Night is the best time, there's less detail, and the world’s simpler. It's easier to be me, enjoying the feeling of knowing I’m coming back to play again.

I’m skipping the third band, and just workin' on my Punk 'tude outside the pinball parlor next door. I'm puffing on a French cig, which adds cool and helps me resist the rich smell of Phillipino food from the restaurant section of the club. My macaroni and cheese dinner with a coke chaser is starting to wear off."

Chapter 5: The Negatives: A Punk Action Movie In Real Life

"The crowd’s colliding like bumper cars, so Ross jumps and twists in the air, giving the tourists a picture of wild, chaotic energy. 

It's like a modern art painting in motion! The Negatives' show has something for everyone! 

I'll have to ask Ross how he manages to get so much of his tongue hanging out like that. Whenever I try, I start gagging.

The fourth song, "Planet Toe Jam" is slower, which cools down the slam dancing. They want the crowd to just stand there, which sets up what's coming next. Plus in a longer set, it helps to have a romantic number so people can slow dance if they want to."

Chapter 6: Herman Hesse's Glass Bead Game - The Punk Version

"I gotta say he looks the part of a great artist; a big burly skinhead type who named his band after a Hermann Hesse novel. He says names like "Steely Dan" from Burroughs' "Naked Lunch," are too New York for his taste. Besides, being named after a dildo is so 60s!

I took Ida to see his show last month, and after she calmed down and agreed to not press charges, described the act as "Butt Love horseplay masquerading as performance art. It's definitely not entertainment."

I told Stew what she said, and he had the comment added to the group's press kit and asked me to thank her for the great review!"

Chapter 7: Marly Tells A Punk Bedtime Story

"Marly cuts the horn, then freezes like a brave knight who's just slain a dragon, which seems odd until I realize that some tourists are taking pictures. 

I subtly turn so my left side faces the cameras and pout at the ceiling. I take the goolie out of my mouth and hold it with two fingers near my chin, so the smoke curls near my face. Keeping it in your mouth makes you look like a puppy chewing on a biscuit, not very punk."

Chapter 8: Celebration At The Pup Chuck Wagon 24 Hour Hot Dog Diner

"There's no better place for a rising star to bask in new found glory than Pup Chuck Wagon, the 24 hour hot dog diner, a haven for San Franciscans who have more coolness than cash. Cheap food and everything you sit or eat on is washable!

I can afford a mustard dog, small fries and coffee if I use my bus money. It's only a half hour walk home and this night of achievement calls for a feast!"

Chapter 9: Nym's Walk Home

"How did you know I spent my bus fare?"

Jesus guy sighs, "You passed a bus stop on Stockton without stopping, I'd have given you the fare but Phil came, so I just took the next bus."

"You assumed Phil would give me fare money?"

"I ordained it, it's what I do child, besides, I can't go giving you cash every time you go broke, my wallet would be so light it'd float me back into Heaven and I'd have to do the Resurrection all over again."

End of excerpts...click link below to continue (for free of course)

https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/episode/B09PC1XQKB?ref_=d6k_applink_bb_dls

The Electric Fog Factory.

The Al & Ivy Homeless Literary Journal Archive:

There are earlier blog entries on the Delta Snake Review section of this site that aren't on the On The Road page:
http://deltasnake.blogspot.com

Cover Reveal For Hide In Plain Sight

This is the cover for the upcoming book, Hide In Plain Sight, hopefully out sometime in 2022.

-Al Handa

djboogieunderground@gmail.com

The American Primitive Acoustic Collection by Handa-McGraw International can be streamed on all of the major services, including Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon, and dozens of others. Note: only available on YouTube until April 21st

The Music Of Handa-McGraw International can also be heard on the Electric Fog Factory on YouTube. You can hear the album, and dozens of unreleased cuts and demos, plus exclusive video of Ivy.

 

On The Road With Al and Ivy: A Literary Homeless Chronicle - June 6, 2019

He traverses familiar, 

As one should come to town 

And tell you all your dreams were true; 

He lived where dreams were sown.

- Emily Dickinson 

"Do you suppose I give a damn about life now? Why, you bone-head, I haven't got a single damned lying hope or pipe dream left!"

"By God, there's no hope! I'll never be a success in the grandstand--or anywhere else! Life is too much for me! I'll be a weak fool looking with pity at the two sides of everything till the day I die!"

- Eugene O'Neill (The Iceman Cometh) 

I've first saw O'Neill's play, "The Iceman Cometh" in high school. My English & Literature class watched the movie version that starred Lee Marvin and Robert Ryan on PBS. I won't go into all of the deep meaning, as there's cliff notes and Google for that, but what seems relevant today was the importance of dreams, which are part of a reality, even if delusional.

The play's message was also anti-dream, a reaction to the Hollywood dreams-can-come-true-story, which envisioned success in terms of riches, or a rise in social status, which for most will never happen as the capitalist system is about winners and losers.

The aspirational image is a powerful concept. People who'd be unhappy working in a burger joint for minimum wage will willingly put out much more effort for less money in pursuit of a dream. Most writers and musicians know this is true.

Hollywood standardized the dream narrative but in real life, dreams can be quite idiosyncratic. However, one's stated dreams are not always revealing or illuminate a real desire. 

For example, a person dreams about becoming a star (or in America, rich and famous, as simple fame is often derided). When asked, the aspirant will talk about creating great art or helping others, but if they do succeed, can end up acting like tabloid celebrities and engage in behavior that would have shocked even the 17th century French nobility.

In that case, the dream wasn't about great art, but status. Once achieved, the real desire came out, empowered by money. People talk about the pressures of fame, or the corrupting nature of money, but that's not generally true. Most of the rich don't flaunt wealth, they know better, and even if snobby, generally keep to themselves (or let politicians do the dirty public work). Many try to do good works, and manage to hang on to the money (and not blow it on drugs or whatever).

A dream can be anything you want, but to me, one of O'Neill's messages was that to have a realistic dream, it's a good idea to know oneself. At the end, the Socialist drunkard has a realization that seemed like a final surrender to death. Perhaps on the surface, but realizing he was a weak fool for sitting aloof and pitying both sides was a deep piece of self knowledge. 

Another classic, "Magister Ludi," aka "The Glass Bead Game" by Hermann Hesse has a similar theme. An intellectual master of an extreme sport for the mind finally realizes that he can't stay aloof from life. It's a nuanced idea, but the Glass Bead Game became the Master's life and it failed him when a choice had to be made in real life.

The idea of intellectual pursuit or a dream isn't a universal truth. There's other views of reality. In an old Japanese film, the ending text said that the characters lived their dreams and after death, moved on to the real world, which implies that life here is an illusion.

Frankly, all of that stuff is true when it is, and not when it not. I once said in an earlier blog entry that a person could be Mickey Mouse as long as he didn't try to make others believe it, and even then, whether it's a wasted life is really only an issue for those who care about someone else's business.

Which, in terms of art, means that one can dream anything they want, and you're a writer (for example) if you call yourself one. If that dream requires money, an audience or applause, then you have to decide if it's worth doing what it takes to get that, things which will often have nothing to do with art.

"A word spoken with the whole being can give life. Activity in itself means nothing: it is often a sign of death."

- Henry Miller (Tropic Of Capricorn)

An awful lot of the "history" of literature is Western-centric. The start of so-called realism (in France) is said to have started with Balzac and Stendhal, whose work was a departure from the "romantic" era exemplified by writers such as Sir Walter Scott. Such a viewpoint might earn a passing grade in a literature class but anyone who's reasonably well read knows that the modern Western era wasn't the first time that adventurous, realistic, free form or dirty writing had been created.

Many of the ancient classics, like The Arabian Nights or Canterbury Tales were originally  rowdy works that were bowderdized into clean tales suitable for children. The history of Western literature is often more about the battle over censorship than any supposed progression of creativity, particularly as the printing press enabled more works to get past the old gate keepers that published books by hand.

One can get the impression from early school text books that literature evolved from folk tales into classic works full of truth and reality when it's really due to wider literacy and the evolution of technology that enabled the production of mass market books and movies. One could even argue that today's higher sex and obscenity content could be as much a matter of changing tastes (or the competition for public attention) than an increase in freedom.

...what genius...

Many of mankind's greatest works could be nitpicked into a failing grade by a person properly trained in English grammar, though there are genres, like technical manuals and textbooks, where proper structure can be critical.

All great geniuses are rule breakers, and tend to be treated as exceptions or outliers. It reminds me of a past musical discussion about jazz guitar on the Internet, and how one of the greatest guitarists, Wes Montgomery, played on extra thick strings with his thumb, which was considered unorthodox. The consensus among the "experts" of the discussion group was that Montgomery was a genius but not one that could be emulated by those wishing to "properly" learn jazz guitar.

The lesson society teaches is that individual style works if it works (makes money), and your safest bet is orthodoxy or pro level craft. That was a mantra of a past era, when a writer generally only had one or two chances to prove their talent (ability to sell). That's because book publishers were gatekeepers who successfully convinced the public that their product was of the finest quality and that self publishing was a "vanity" project that was the last resort of the mediocre.

The Internet era, for all it's faults, will be seen as a time when an individual writer had the great freedom, and more importantly, the ability to keep writing after an early failure. That means that a lot of excessive or undisciplined works will be created, but no one needs to write with the simple goal of making money (and all the compromises necessary) unless they want to.

Henry Miller once said, that one should write a book because it needs to be written. When it's finished, to not worry about getting it published but to begin writing the next one, and the next. He wrote that passage in Europe, where there were small presses that would support cutting edge work, not in the US where getting published was indeed critical to a writing career. 

I remember being told in High School journalism class that writing books was only something a journalist who had put in his time could aspire to, and wasn't something anybody could just start doing. Even columns, which were the first blogs, weren't given out to beginners.

What Miller was describing was a life that was all about writing, and he only succeeded after years of hardship, and support by patrons who provided encouragement and even meals. His words make sense in this net era. In truth, publishing an Ebook only costs as much as anyone cares to spend on support services like editing. A work can be published without any of that, and a writer can keep putting out books as each is completed. 

You may not sell many books, and a second job might be necessary to pay the bills, but a writer's life is possible if you want it.

On every side of us are men who hunt perpetually for their personal Northwest Passage, too often sacrificing health, strength and life itself to the search; and who shall say they are not happier in their vain but hopeful quest than wiser, duller folk who sit at home, venturing nothing..."

- Kenneth Roberts (Northwest Passage)

The quote was taken from Kenneth Roberts' "Northwest Passage," which was about Colonel Robert Rogers (whose rangers became the model for today's US Army Rangers) who made an ultimately futile quest to find the Northwest Passage. It was also about a man named Langdon Towne, whose goal was to become a painter, who later fell into the trap of trying to become famous in England, where artists were regarded as part of the service industry. After an endless series of cycles spent trying to meet the right people and live a lifestyle worthy of a great artist, he came to the realization that painting was the real goal, and returned to America.

The movie version, with Spencer Tracy and a very young Robert Young (later of the TV show, Father Knows Best) was, of course, not true to the book and didn't cover the second half which turned the book from a great adventure book into a classic work about art, dreams and life.

It did keep one key scene from the book, where Langdon was wounded after a battle, and had to be helped to walk by an Native American woman and a kid. The Rangers were being pursued by the French Army and Abernaki Warriors, and Rogers couldn't slow the column down for just one man. Before Rogers left them, he reminded Langdon that the other soldiers just wanted to survive, but he wanted to survive to be a painter. Langdon had, in other words, a higher goal.

So Langdon made himself keep going, and made it back. It was a tortuous march, and very much about will power and seeing something beyond the situation at hand. Each painful step had as much to do with the goal as any visions of great paintings and success. That's an idea that influenced a lot of decisions in my book when it gets to the Winter of 2016.

I had a lot of dreams out there in the car, but taking good care of Ivy, going on daily hikes to stay fit, not eating junk food, staying as clean as possible, and avoiding drugs and alcohol wasn't just to stay busy or even fight depression. It was the immediate steps that needed to be taken once I realized that writing a book was a dream.

A lot of artists need second jobs in order to create, and it's natural to want to be somewhere else while working, but that work is still part of the dream, necessary to reach a goal. I remember reading an interview with a guy who worked for Bill Graham, who founded the legendary Fillmore concert venues. He said, that at the shows, Bill could be seen mopping up a spill in the bathroom because to him, it was all the same job.

I knew that I was, among other things, a writer. I wrote to find myself, to find people to help me survive, and felt that being a writer was a key to getting out. I started to write the book, but my blog got equal attention because that was the audience that was already there. 

In writing terms; the book is a dream, the blog is my writing world as it now exists. Everything I did out there in the car wasn't just to get out, but to continue being an artist. The danger of just wishing or hoping for a good future is that instead of taking the steps to get there, you wait, and every empty day reinforces the feeling of failure. 

I remember one of the the things I wrote that summer was that movement was survival, that one moved towards life or death. At the time, it was about the importance of getting the car running again, but it was also an allegory about how one faced life on the streets. There's no static states in nature, those who just sat out there and did nothing got worse.

What one does in the present is very much part of the future.

...William Makepeace Thackeray and The Book Of Snobs...

Thackeray's "Book Of Snobs" is a minor work, or seemed so until realizing that my internet-attention span mind had run ahead of the narrative and missed the joke, which was that the various types of snobs were being described and categorized by a fellow snob.

Thackeray used a fake character, one of the oldest literary devices to deliver satire, who was just as snobby as his subjects. One reason was, and it's true even now, it can be dangerous to satirize under one's own name. George Orwell once noted that Shakespeare would have have such material come out of the mouth of a jester or some such character to make it seem less threatening or incendiary.

Thackeray's book could only have been written in his time, to an smaller audience that was used to good writing and had the patience to read a full piece before reacting. Thackerey was confident enough to let the humor properly develop and was patient about when to land a punch line. 

Which isn't asserting that the times were better. Back then, feelings about slights, real or imagined could require an exchange of pistol fire at 20 paces (generally 30 feet or so). A cynic might point out that the distance was probably beyond the practical range of pistols of that era, but we can assume some bravery was required if historical accounts are true.

In another of his works, Barry Lyndon, a fake autobiography by a Irish rogue, the book got funnier as the story developed as he used the literary device of "editors notes" that start off as standard corrections to the text, then become obvious "corrections" of the facts. The reader begins to see Barry's narrative from the Editor's point of view, that the story is not the heroic tale it appears to be on the surface. It's written in the flowery language used by that era's historians so it's also a satire of contemporary accounts of great feats and heroes.

...Tom Wolfe, and satire....

A modern equivalent to Thackeray would be Tom Wolfe. Though his work was part of the "new journalism," or whatever, his articles had a similar outlook and approach. His humor wasn't cruel, and he generally did his best to present the subjects in as much of their point of view as possible.

Passages from his classic "Electric Kool Aid Acid Test" was often as psychedelic as the uttering of the Prankster leader, Author Ken Kesey. Tom was a New York Dandy, and no where near being a hippie, and because of that caught important details like Kesey's trip not being an attempt to simply create a new entertainment experience but one with spiritual/religious underpinnings. The later resistance from his followers who wanted to keep the Acid Tests as a party trip, once money came into it, was very much like what happens to a religion once a church gets involved. 

The undermining of Kesey's desire to move the Acid Tests into the realm of further exploration by those who'd begun to make money from the shows was something an outsider would see, one who'd seen how Andy Warhol had manipulated a similar trip in New York.

It was an empathetic view, that saw past Kesey's legal troubles at the time and the surface expressions of support from various hangers on. It was possible to see all that nuance because from the start, Wolfe depicted the life of Kesey and the Pranksters exactly as they lived it, without injecting his attitudes into the story. He could keep his own ego in check.

Tom had a Thackeray-like ability to make a subject or person seem funny without necessarily lampooning, which is a rare talent. One reason is that humans are funny creatures, and do funny things. One of the main cruxes of Kesey's world was the recognition that each person was a separate universe, or in his view, a movie, and idiosyncrasies were a case of "it is what it is." Behavior that had always existed, but didn't always get described in print.

By telling the story from the subjects point of view, Wolfe was able to describe the decline of the Acid Tests from exploration to commercial concern, which had many levels in play, but was essentially a case of followers fixating on ritual, and the age old problems that occur when money is involved. The early stages were financed by Kesey from his book royalties, but once other income streams were possible from peripheral activities like the music, drug sales, light shows and such, self interest came into play and it all became political.

Wolfe didn't insert any of his own judgement, and like Thackeray had the patience to let the story tell it all. That's a real ability, and it shows an ability to see the subject and describe details that might not be noticed if being viewed from a biased lens, and it shows a trust in the audience (or indifference to their feelings, the result is the same).

Modern satire is becoming less subtle. Maybe publications like the Onion can still satirize subtleties in behavior but these days laughs have to be delivered up front, and indeed, punch lines are now necessary or people might miss the point or just go into reaction mode.

...blessings and curses...

Immediacy is both the Internet's blessing and curse. In the age of print and even TV, a satirist could produce work, and the means to attack back was limited and subject to filters which included a time element that reduced the reactive rage type stuff. It gave a writer a reasonable amount of freedom to create without fear.

If a person didn't like what they read or saw, he or she had to write a letter saying so, and after mailing it, had to wait until an editor or some such person read it, and either forwarded it to the author or printed it in the next issue, etc. It was also understood that civility was required because if one just raved the letter would be put aside and never see print.

The Internet has eliminated that barrier, which was in effect a protocol and democratized the old relationship of publication and reader. A satirical piece can invoke reaction from a variety of sources from comment sections (not even related to the actual pub), blogs and social media and while that empowers readers, it can force a media company to please or avoid offending a customer base.

A good example is National Lampoon, which was pissing everybody off at first but eventually had to lean left as the audience segment that mattered most to advertisers was centered in colleges and some Baby Boomers who'd come a long way baby and rediscovered the financial joys of joining the establishment, but still wanted rebellion in small doses.

A writer like William Makepeace Thackeray could write satire in the Internet age, but he'd have had to accept a smaller audience and certainly constant attacks from trolls. 

...Internet discussion...

Internet discussion is a varying stew of intelligent points, gotcha you jerk, quotes from googled sources or experts, quotes purported to be from googled sources or an expert, fake quotes, quotes from a rented expert, and road rage. Sometimes, like in sports or guitar forums, all of the above is present.

None of that is new, not even the vehemence, as people could end up talking like that to each other in ancient times. However, the people who talked like that didn't hide behind handles and knew who they were insulting and had to be willing to be at the business end of a dueling sword, though a cynic might point out that historical records indicate that a higher number of duels were reported to be fought than actual documented deaths from such scrimmages. Again, we can assume some bravery was required if historical accounts are true.

Thackeray was onto something with his detailed treatise on snobs. He correctly noted a tendency of the English race to display that quality due to the nation's affluence which made snobbery accessible to many, which if you substituted "Americans" would bring that hoary old work into relevance. 

What the English Master didn't delineate was how so many types of snobs could exist but it wasn't intended to be a true think piece. After all, back then as now, if you wanted to make money from commodity type works then it was best to just get on with it and crank out the next series so that enough income was generated to permit a nice lifestyle and better, more artistic works. I doubt he gave it as much afterthought as I'm giving it.

...back to Wolfe, subcultures, and experts for a moment...

Tom Wolfe made the astute observation that America was a land of subcultures, each of which having it's own celebrities and even hierarchy. A person may not be on Page Six or National Enquirer but within the cult, of say, hot dog eating, one could be the next Led Zeppelin. It's a matter of scale, but the dynamics are often the same.

I remember watching an arm wrestling championship on TV, and the contestants behaved pretty much like athletes in a more profitable sport like Boxing; trying to psych each out, showing disdain, super sized egos, etc. 

The Internet added a new twist in that everyone could put their passion or interest into the web, and many exotic or offbeat interests found cult audiences and inevitably, created celebrities. Within a cult, proficiency is the difference between men and boys, but again, cash is king. If a skateboarder gets sponsors, their star power increases, and at that point if the guy wants to act like a jerk, it becomes a prerogative (until the money runs out).

In a more diffuse situation, like Internet Health and Nutrition or anything requiring actual facts, then the word of "experts" and such become important, though more than a few gurus have found out the hard way that people prefer "facts" that confirm their beliefs (or make somebody they don't like wrong). The Internet expert market is healthy, so much so that the field is vast and riddled with unvetted sages and fakes. Nothing new, of course, just an increase in scale.

One big reason for the rise of experts is that the Internet creates the impression that data is an ability or even wisdom. "Answers" are flat out right or wrong, or can become belief systems. Online debates can mirror B-movie courtroom dramas where people discredit whole arguments by finding one fact that's wrong and expect the other's confidence to collapse. If it doesn't, then snooty dismissals or insults follow.

Contrary to any belief that's been expressed that this is a unique Information Age, there was just as much "data" floating about centuries ago. If you had some spare time from working dawn till dusk to afford a bowl of porridge, and wondered about the cosmos or if there were aliens walking about posing as humans, there were plenty of experts back then that would give you an answer and back it up with "facts."

Of course, if you phrased the question wrong or said the wrong thing to the wrong crowd, it might be followed by a session with Doctor Stake and Professor Fire, which in these civilized times rarely happens, though people might publicly slander you, hack your accounts, and try to ruin your life.

All of this used to be harmless fun, but snobbery is becoming less about being high falutin or thinking others are stupid (which is acceptable human behavior on social networks) and moves into the realm of church-based religion or social fascism complete with excommunication, thought policing, or taking an imaginary stick to the poltroon to save their soul.

That's just nutrition, it gets worse when the subject is politics.

These days, quipping about snobs isn't going to produce chuckles when being snooty is acceptable behavior in countries where every man is a king (women too, where required by law). Democracy (via the Internet) gives the masses an opportunity to look down on their fellow man.

Thackeray's Book Of Snobs or Barry Lyndon are a period pieces, and many modern readers might find the works too mannered. It's from an age when the best satirists tried to get people to look at themselves and see the humor or absurdity in their behavior instead of taking the easy route of ridicule or insult. That was a fine skill, and worth any serious writer's time to study. Where such an ability could be applied in these times, I couldn't tell you.

Whether Thackeray's books are brilliant or not isn't for me to to judge, but I will say that both are brilliantly written.

"Sannoko may be the site of legends, but not of history."

- Junichiro Tanizaki (Arrowroot 1930, translated by Anthony Chambers 

The first draft of my book was influenced by "Arrowroot," by Junichiro Tanizaki. Arrowroot was called a hybrid of essay and novel, which was somewhat similar to works like Hermann Hesse's "Steppenwolf" or Melville's "Moby Dick," each which used a scholarly treatise to delineate a central theme in the book. Tanizaki's approach was different in that the essay passages were more tightly integrated into the narrative.

Neither approaches were superior, though in western culture there's a tendency to try to make sure such digressions seem technically sound to ensure the point is understood, and perhaps less subject to attack. There's a danger when presenting factual information as it can become a sticking point where readers can disagree with it (or dismiss it) and not be able to get past that.

I completely understand. To this day I still think the movie "Patton" with George C, Scott was flawed because they used the wrong kind of tanks in the battle scenes.

Hesse and Melville had a different intent, as their in-book essays were attempts to educate, particularly in the latter's case. Melville's long essay about whales was very similar in intent to Tanizaki's, to permeate the work with a historic and mystical aura.

Tanizaki's genius was that the essays were so well integrated that it felt like a great storyteller was filling you in on the background stuff while enroute to this remote village, which had the result of making it seem more alluring as the book progressed.

The first draft flowed well, but hadn't addressed the variety of perceptions that exist about the homeless. I felt the draft could set off an storm of chapter and verse nitpicking (more on that later), class conscious trolling, and get entangled in the contentious politics of the social welfare system. 

In other words, I didn't do a very good job of writing a book that's set in the homeless scene. I still liked the story, but for the second draft, it was time to reassess and rethink the delivery. Many writers experience the same thing. You start off thinking writing is all inspiration and genius, then find that it's really about getting that spark expressed in the real world. Then technical skill, passion, and plain stubbornness become important. 

That's all in the realm of technique.

I can describe a scene about a young female panhandler in detail, for example, and if insecure about my ability to bring the reader into it, could bring stock images of pathos into it, or focus on standard images of destitution that in this jaded society, may not even invoke pity in harder hearts. 

The woman's fate will come off as tragedy (rather than comeuppance) if her humanity is communicated in a way that doesn't trigger responses triggered by symbols or modern accident scene voyeurism. My job would be to show her as a person who arrived at that moment after a long series of incidents that cascaded into disaster.

...more about process....

What I'm going to talk about is in the book, but will share more detail about that character. Keep in mind, it's not "advice" or a #writingtip or anything like that. I'm just sharing a glimpse into my own "process" which if you're a regular reader of the blog, is a word that's interchangeable with "technical" because of my musical background (and having grown up in Silicon Valley).

Her opening scene doesn't have much in the way of physical description. I decided not to "paint a picture" of the young woman. The main reason is that far too many people have a reflexive image of a smelly, dirty person with a drugged expression that will fill in the blanks and override any description before it can develop. I avoided keywords that regularly pop up in media stories about the homeless for that reason.

I handled her exposition by setting it well after the original contact so the conversation was between two acquaintances, then switched the narrative to her inner dialogue, which worked better to bring in the backstory. In other words, the story stays in motion with active images to fill the vacuum until her image is fully set.

It's not just about getting into the mind of the subject, but also the reader. You want that image to be yours, what you've written, not simply a validation of stereotypes. If the reader doesn't see it my way, I can live with that, but I want them to disagree or reject what's presented on the book's terms.

...about smell...

Like I said earlier, I avoided keywords. A good example is the word "smell," which is an old stereotype, like "the great unwashed" and so on.

Many female panhandlers, at least the younger ones, rarely smelled bad or looked dirty (at least at first). Part of that was because newbie homeless still worked hard on their appearance, and because in the panhandling world, women were often the "breadwinners" and needed to be on point.

In Silicon Valley, for example, people encounter homeless people every day and never know it. Sure, they know about the homeless camps and the druggies seen in the media (or on the street in places like San Francisco), but thousands live in RVs or cars because service sector jobs don't pay enough to a get a room (even motels are generally filled up by late afternoon). 

They can stay clean because many large businesses have showers, and if not that, there's 24 hour gyms. Most are very aware that smell and appearance are the signs most people associate with the homeless, and even the transient taking a bath in the restroom sink is doing it to feel as normal as possible, however futile the effort is.

The young panhandler had a plot arc that took about half a year to become tragic. When she first appears, you'd only know she was homeless because of the cardboard sign that said so, though as the book reveals, the message on it was also an early sign of depression.

Knowing if she smelled bad, or if the clothes were all she had, weren't things any normal person will know right away. Particularly outside where there's a breeze. An author can fall into the trap of presenting a minutely detailed image, but that's not how perception works. Knowledge comes in layers, over a period of time frame (no matter how compressed).

The initial physical description is how it would look at a glance, then more details emerge.

That cursory impression was due to the etiquette out there. Staring or making direct eye contact could be interpreted as aggressive. I really didn't "see" her then, as my main concern was making sure our conversation didn't look flirtatious, which could bring an aggressive male in on me (I go into this aspect of street life later, of always having to assume one is under observation).

I talk to her standing sideways, looking off in my direction of travel and doing a quick 360 scan to make sure my approach wasn't misinterpreted by a boyfriend who could be watching, and she pets Ivy and talks in her direction. We both were posturing so that from a distance, it could be seen that the conversation was casual and about my dog.

...Rashomon...

The story then places you into the mind of the young woman, and those who walked by or watched from a distance. Some males gave money right away, then hit on her, or in some cases, did the male thing and gave detailed advice, then hit on her.

In another instance, her red hair catches a man's attention which puts him into rescuing prince mode. Yet another guy is far off, and is studying her as a possible candidate to pimp at the truck stop motel. An older woman whose own daughter is a runaway stops, gives her some cash and walks off with a lot of mixed feelings and regrets.

The panhandler saw things too, and was streetwise enough to know that a pimp was beginning to stalk her, understood that the guys wanted sex, and so on. Behind that cheery smile was a damaged, but smart woman who knew that she was in real trouble.

Being a street beggar was a label. What she was and why, what she could be, was really part of a bigger picture. It affected how men related to her, and the label had a stigma that removed many of the social protections that a woman normally has. That tag was important in the sense that it affected how she and others acted, yet on a deeper level, it has very little to do with what she was and why.

Her final story is a tragedy because of what she was and could have been, not because of what happened to her. I should add, because of what will be learned about her, you'll realize that nothing short of death will prevent her redemption. I felt that way after seeing her story unfold, perhaps you will too.

...why the book starts in the summer of 2016 in Gilroy, and eyes watching...

That eight week period, which involved being stuck on a street with a broken down car for six of the weeks, wasn't my first glimpse into the homeless scene. I'd seen it up north in Marin County and the SF Bay Area but at the time had the means to be insulated from those scenes, even if it was just being able to afford a motel room or being near a rest stop.

I side stepped a lot of trouble by avoiding drugs, and it helped being male, which made me useless to most predators. You could stay "under the radar," so to speak, if mobile (car, RV, etc) but being on the periphery had it's dangers. You can become "invisible" to society, or find a "blind spot" to hide in, but can't make the mistake of thinking that it's a safe place. The reality is that people are always watching and you're often under camera in many places. 

One common element of contacts with other homeless was that they watched me for days beforehand. People who immediately walked around introducing themselves were viewed warily for a variety of reasons, but mainly because it could be someone who didn't get it that being careless was dangerous out there.

The local police in the various areas were aware of me, had already stopped me at least once and my name, record (luckily clean) and vehicle were known to them. Dealers had already checked me out and knew if I were a customer, a nothing, or whether or not I was a possible informant or squealer. 

A local Christian cult regularly checked in on the homeless to recruit new members (and add any of their state or local aid to their coffers). There were vigilantes who constantly watched or harangued us, called the police over real or imagined crimes and of course, the homeless who watched each other and could spot a kindred spirit even in a large crowd.

I always assumed people were watching me, and that each pair of eyes had attitudes about what they saw, and it wasn't always pity. Most minorities and certainly women know that feeling of constantly being watched in public. Which is why the young panhandler and I didn't notice much about each other, we were both too busy staying aware of our surroundings. The scene in the book does paint a picture but the details weren't physical but physiological.

...women and money...

There is a strong undercurrent of feminism in the book. These days the issue has become as diffuse as a religion, and has political, social and emotional dimensions, and the latter was very present in the homeless world. All of feminism's successes and failures, and the best and worst of male attitudes were present.

The core issue, in my mind, is power over women and what men have done with that power. A male dominated system isn't really about superiority over women. That's a concept that only a specific subset of males who are afraid of or hate women believe in. 

The real damage to women is that male domination is an exclusion from the economic game of life. Such competition isn't just an element of poverty and homelessness, it's also a major factor in issues such as feminism. Discrimination is about exclusion, which historically is about domination of other males and the pecking order of wealth and opportunity. In other words, it's a man's world.

Power is said to a corrupting influence, but harassment reveals much about the abuser's  psyche. A traditional male patriarchy mandates the protection of women, but like many systems based on power, that sense of responsibility can be changed on a whim or not applied to women who don't toe the line. The Madonna/Whore dichotomy or fallen woman stereotype is very much part of a carrot and stick application of the doctrine.

Some men will point to cases of women who've harassed men, or women who screwed them over, which only proves the point about power, and like any argument which cherry picks anecdotes to advance a generalization to discredit women, it's proves nothing. I wouldn't assert that Americans are all criminals by using prison convicts as an example, and no sensible person would take me seriously if I did.

...battle royale of the sexes...

The Battle of the sexes was lost a long time ago. Women haven't won yet, and complete victory for either side isn't a sure thing.

Men had centuries to create a viable system of second banana style womanhood and instead couched surfed until it could only be maintained by physical and economic coercion. It was only a matter of time before women began to realize, probably after the last of the saber tooth tigers died off, that their main predators were males.

That's in the broader sense of theory. Most of the actual battles on the legal end of the issue are about opportunity, and economic competition, which is the most contentious aspect even between males. That's the easy part, the social aspect is more complicated, though it should be noted that on the whole, men and women do get along.

...social verses law....

That brings up an interesting point, which relates to any issue, which is the difference between legal and social change. 

The Founding Fathers wrote a constitution that avoids addressing social behavior and mores, which was not only considered the province of churches and other such groups, but because of what has happened historically when social behaviors were criminalized.

A society does have to make acts like murder illegal, even if the law can't prevent such crimes. In the case of dueling, for example, it was once considered an honorable way to settle disputes. It had to be outlawed for a number of common sense reasons. That was a case where societal attitudes changed, but even after it was outlawed, men still did it for the same reason, that it was seen as a definitive way to settle things.

These days, most would agree that dueling is a bad way to settle differences, but most fist fights are just duels that stay within the law. It's a social behavior that persists. The law serves the useful purpose of containing that behavior so (most) people don't get killed over money or honor and we know that it doesn't necessarily change the underlying attitude.

Laws to mandate equality between men and women are the same thing, it simply seeks to at least contain the behavior associated with discrimination and a realist realizes it changes very little in terms of society. There'll always be men who'll marginalize women, and will do so in every way they can get away with, but changing the laws does create change.

Again, that's just the broad picture, mainly the battleground of theorists, armchair generals, politicians and those who want to sell something. 

The reality is that most of us read what the various experts say and argue about, but on the personal level, men and women just work it out among themselves. Men who want a housewife can wait till one comes along, and women who want to be independent can go ahead and do it. It's not a perfect process, but life isn't cut and dried. 

Any real change will always be societal, about what actually happens in daily life. Marriages generally work, men and women get at least part of what they want, and most love each other and try to make each other happy.

Also, stripped of any notions of power or maleness, all of the fun things men like to do from hanging out in man caves, watching sports, or whatever don't need to go away. Being a traditional or macho male is perfectly fine but would be better as a stated sexual preference, as there are women who prefer that. Very little would have to change if women became truly equal to men. The alpha behaviors described as maleness are a stereotype that traps both sexes.

If men collectively changed their view of women, it wouldn't be seen as weakness. Historians would cite it as one of the most momentous evolutions in modern history, a paradigm reversing centuries of oppression, though it'd be best to do it while men still write most of the history books if credit for the feat is desired.

...another point about the mentally ill...

I started a thread in the last entry about the mentally ill, and will continue that in a later blog, but want to address a point here.

People talk about the mentally ill (out there), and focus on the extreme cases as if that's all there is. I've talked about the apathy present in many, and others have described it in harsher terms like laziness, lack of desire, drug use, criminality and so on.

The thing is, there's a lot more mental illness out there than even the troll element makes out. That apathy was a symptom, that I understood after being out there for a while. A lot of that is depression, often untreated. 

People don't just pop up in camps and streets, they end up there after a chain of events turned catastrophic. Sure, there's drug use, severe mental illness, but also victims of financial disaster, elderly on fixed incomes priced out of homes, and women whose only escape from abuse in an overheated real estate market means sleeping in a car (if they were lucky).

The point is that being homelessness isn't necessarily what devastated them, many were damaged going in. I can't tell you many of the people might be able to work their way out if simply treated for depression, but I know more than a few could. Drug abuse is generally self medicating, and frankly a lot of what you see as a homeless person can make drugs, many of which are cheaper than Big Pharma products, seem attractive.

The harmful part of making the homeless look like a bunch of druggies and crazies, besides affecting societies' willingness to handle it as a human issue, is that it can trigger or aggravate a lot of conditions like shame, guilt, and other emotions of defeat that can prevent people from seeking treatment. Yet in most urban areas, mental health help is available if the homeless could be made to feel that there was no shame in it. That's a problem in regular society too, and the solution is generally stated as awareness, and support. 

Much of what you see in the media about the homeless is true, it's just that it's a small part of the picture, the images most likely to create strong emotions, generate clicks and feed narratives. The reality is that there's a lot of people, both deserving and undeserving, and in varying states of pain and distress, and much of it treatable.

One of the biggest lessons I learned out there was that the acceptance and support I got from the Internet, was decisive and kept me from giving up. Acceptance didn't feed Ivy and me, but it kept me from giving up even after severe setbacks. It enabled me to ask for help, and while self esteem comes from within, having it reinforced by others makes it possible to believe when everything around you seems to indicate otherwise.

...changes...

I'm going to be changing the look of this blog. As you can see, I'm adding images from a sketchbook and other graphics to break up the text-heavy appearance. The illustrations are going to kept as casual drawings from a sketchbook, as that fits the freewheeling sprawl of this blog.

Pen and ink drawing have been a love and hobby since my teens, so it's a definite pleasure to add those to the blog. Also, it's a good warmup, so to speak, as I've decided to illustrate the book. More about that in the next blog, as well as a section on my freelance writing and publishing days, and why pen and ink has always been my favorite media.

Note: All images copyright 2019 by Al Handa

-Al Handa

djboogieunderground@gmail.com

Now live on Kindle Unlimited 

Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FGWKK19K

On The Road With Al and Ivy: A Homeless Literary Chronicle - Dec. 13th, 2018

"Homer died two hundred years ago, or more, and we still speak of him as though he were living...the others he wrote in his epic of the Trojan War. They are mere shadows, given substance by his songs; which alone retain the force of life; the power to soothe or stir or draw tears."

- Robert Graves (Homer's Daughter 1955)

I celebrated a half million views in the November blog entry, and this month should see another milestone; the completion of the final draft of the book.

It'll still need to be line edited (and possibly refined as a result) but I decided last month that it was time to finish. I remember good friend, author and editor, Melody Ramone, once telling me that there'd come a time when it felt "finished" and added half jokingly that I'd also might be sick to death of the manuscript.

That was certainly true, though being "sick of it" in my case is more a case of the musical equivalent, which is feeling that the work is as good as it's going to get and will risk becoming worse (or boring) if it keeps getting fussed over.

When McGraw and I worked on music for our Handa-McGraw International albums and YouTube channel (Electric Fog Factory), we differentiated between music for recording and live work.

We always stopped jamming and trying out new arrangements on a recorded piece when it felt right. After that, it was all about getting the right take, and technical perfection was always secondary to feel. For example, on the YouTube channel there are several numbers that were intended as demos, but never replaced. That's because a finished version hadn't been done that had the right feel.

My book is similar to an album, mainly because the artistic sensibility is musical. It had stopped being a chronological journal by the second draft and became a work driven by a musical sensibility.

...empathy, sympathy, and pity...

I also avoided passages, particularly about characters, that delineated some sort of main theme or "timeless" concept. There are several in the book whose lives are instead described dispassionately, or without judgement (as much as possible).

A neutral stance isn't always easy to achieve, because of the natural desire to steer the reader into feeling a particular emotion, particularly sympathy. There's temptation to slant or change the characterization to do that. Which isn't forbidden in a novel, of course, but not desirable in my case.

The neutral stance is the most empathetic. That can result in passages where the reader might ask, is Al condoning what the character is doing or lacking any pity for the person?

There are parts of the book, for example, where a person eating out of a garage can is described in detail. Not just the physical minutiae, but the mentality. It's a scene without declarations of shock or horror, and written from the point of view of an observer who was also hungry, felt hopeless, and could understand where the scavenger was coming from.

I found that the first drafts of the scenes (added in the fifth run through) were as good as those would ever be. Every attempt to revise it took it further away from the raw, effective description and "judgement" began to creep in.

It was transitioning away from a mentality that could only exist in that moment to a mannered one stemming from the detachment that comes later when being able to eat well. My view of those incidents also differed between the early incidents and those seen much later. 

In the earlier passage, I was seeing it for the first time, the second was after being among the homeless for several months and had a clear idea of who scavenged food and why. 

It is a stark, visceral act to scavenge food, especially in front of people. My own feeling is that it should never happen, that society must make sure that no one is ever forced to do such a thing. That's obvious to anyone with even a shred of humanity.

To write about it from my point of view would risk making it about me and my feelings. To describe it from their point of view, humanizes the image, and requires a dispassionate lens, but in the end tells their story in a way that has a chance to be revelatory. The pathos is greater if the character isn't turned into an archetype. 

When the later incident didn't shock me, it wasn't because I had "become hardened," or self involved. There was an understanding among many of the homeless that anyone that desperate should be helped. How some did so could strike you as weird, but motivated by a humanity shaped by the moment. There was one collective effort for a mentally ill scavenger, described in the book that at the time, struck me both as very eccentric but filled with human warmth.

Food and water was offered freely, particularly if the person was new, and being stingy was a rare act in the circles I traveled in. In the summer months, for example, friends would come by and make sure we had cold water to drink and enough to eat.

...acceptance...

The main thing people gave each other was acceptance. 

Most homeless are acutely aware that they're being judged, often harshly. If they saw a person going through a garbage can, they almost never interrupted the act. I go into more detail about why in the book, but there were good reasons for that. 

The best time to approach the person, as a fellow homeless, was later on when the person was done. For one thing, there were various reasons a person could be doing it. Some had nothing to do with hunger. 

One reason was that we lived among a great many who were mentally ill. Some were harmless, some weren't. Interrupting a mentally ill person at a dumpster could trigger a unpredictable reaction, particularly at night. 

We learned to observe first before acting.

Several of the people who became friends had observed me for a few days before approaching. Some weren't sure I was "all there" because of my severely bad haircut at the time, constantly talking to myself, and the odd habit (to them) of carrying Ivy instead of using a leash (not to mention constantly talking to her also). There were reasonable explanations for the above, of course, but they couldn't know that. 

Being constantly short of sleep and good meals, often in fear, sometimes angry, and being dirty created a feral mindset that showed in the early drafts. My prose at some points could have been alternately mistaken for a motorhead rap, a paranoid who saw danger at every turn, and most valuable to my book, a realization that, at least in the present, he was one of them, had to live with them, and that they were just people like him. It's a mood that was worth preserving.

...the Ivy chapter...

For example, I'm glad I wrote the chapter about Ivy's death in the early drafts. Writing about it now as it really happened then would be difficult. The existing chapter captures the physical impact of devastation that fades with time.

One key point that the original account captured was that after Ivy died, an important link to sanity was gone. Admitting that I "lost it" is easy, but keeping in the actual thoughts and behavior of that moment that cycled rapidly through anger, ingratitude, pain, and even blasphemy would be a tempting candidate for self editing. Also, for several hours, I lost all awareness of my surroundings, and disregarded every precaution normally taken in a homeless area at night. 

There was shock, then a raw paralyzing fright that set in once the adrenalin was gone. Even as she died, I could still at least hang on to the notion that superhuman effort or desperate prayer might work, because even long odds sustain hope.

There's an old term, "staring into the abyss," that captures it perfectly. The dreams of the previous four months died that day, yet on that terrible night after it all happened, what actually ran through my mind surprised me even then. It wasn't suicide, getting numb from drugs, striking out in anger, or any of that. I'd have welcomed apathy at that point.

I think that any of us who has such a moment, where a stark truth hits so hard that it renders everything meaningless, and I think it's different for everyone, has to reaffirm something at their core, whether it's faith or a choice, and move into and through that "void."

The term "reaffirm" is a big theme in the second half of the book. There was a decision made four months earlier that turned out to be relevant that sad night, and pulled me out and forward. Like a ship that had been in a terrible storm, found itself well off it's path, but knew it's course and continued the journey. Though it's not always obvious, there's a path that starts in the first chapter all the way to the last.

The first draft ended in February just after the one year anniversary of becoming homeless. In fact, the ending had already been written. I considered leaving it that way, but decided that Ivy was too important to the story and kept writing, something another writer would understand.

She projected so much personality and helped galvanize so much help. If my writing ability is up to the level of ambition in this book, then perhaps you'll be rooting for me to succeed for at least pity's sake, but will most certainly admire Ivy's great big spirit. She started off homeless as a pup, but only got more indomitable no matter what life offered. Make no mistake, she knew we were homeless.

In the larger sense, everything I want to say in the book is there, and it's time to finish it. If all goes well, I'll be able to tell everyone that the final draft is completed on December 31st.

"Nothing, including alcohol, ranked as high as coffee for the Civil War soldier. Men drank it before, during, after, and in lieu of meals. Many wrote of it in letters home, praising the soothing qualities of a pistol-hot cup of grind."

- Thomas R. Flagel (The History Buff's Guide To The Civil War)

Coffee is one of mankind's great loves. It's regarded both as a necessity and a luxury worth paying extra for drinks that have less coffee in it. Most of the world actually prefers tea but like soccer as opposed to NFL football, it'll never replace coffee in the Western Hemisphere.

It only took me a few weeks of living in a car to regard coffee as just an occasional indulgence.

One problem with coffee is that makes you go to the bathroom too much. Going to the bathroom out there was often a real hassle. The other problem is that it's pricey by the cup. Even at a place like MacDonald's where it costs a buck, that was a day's worth of decent meals for my dog.

I eventually started buying a six pack of eight ounce generic cola for a dollar fifty for any needed caffeine boost, and most mornings that did just fine. Part of the reason that worked was because I was primarily a tea drinker for most of my life, so while I liked coffee, it wasn't irreplaceable.

Also, caffeine wasn't a useful drug out there. It could be tense enough, particularly at night, and if I could relax enough to sleep for a few hours, then that was more important. If sleep didn't come that night, I needed to be able to nap during the day.

I missed a lot of things but coffee wasn't high on the list, and have to admit, that was a surprise.

"And honey is the holiest thing ever was, hive, comb and earwax, the food for glory..."

- James Joyce (Finnegan's Wake)

Now honey, that was a different thing altogether. I wasn't a big fan of the stuff in regular life, but out there it was invaluable.

Bread is a cornerstone in any cheap diet, and a good loaf in a variety of flavors can be had for a dollar. Honey is perfect because it's affordable, makes bread taste great, and can be kept in a car as it doesn't spoil.

Honey has a different aura than other cheap foods. For example, beans and bread are quite filling and nutritious, but let's face it, it's still beans and bread. Now, bread with honey on it, well, that's like a snack at home with all it's comforts.

A nice cheap sweet snack was no small thing. Other amazingly cheap goodies, like oatmeal cream sandwiches, could turn white sugar into a punishing experience. I finished a box by scraping out the filling and just eating the cookies, but the joy was less than transcendent.

I don't consume much honey now, but like my dearly departed Birkenstocks, it was a friend when I needed it.

"How fleeting are the wishes and efforts of man! How short his time! and consequently how poor will his products be."

- Charles Darwin (On The Origin Of Species)

Alpha types tend to interpret "survival of the fittest" as a validation of aggression or masculinity, which is really more Nitchzie (or Ayn Rand) superman stuff. It is a part of natural selection, but the concept is more nuanced.

Being the biggest baddest dude may help get the women interested, but that only meant that he could win a head butting contest with other males. Assuming they fight fair.

Mankind didn't survive because of physical prowess. If we had depended purely on alphas, we'd have been on the desert menu for saber tooth tigers after their main course of he-men. The list of animals that can kick a human butt in a fair fight is long and beyond the scope of this blog entry. Though making such a list might be fun...maybe in a future blog.

What enabled us to evolve into beings that can create thousand dollar hamburgers and shoes was the ability to form groups that could forget political differences long enough to use their intelligence to manufacture weapons and gang up on the savage beasts (most of whom are heading quickly towards extinction, particularly if their body parts are thought to increase male verility).

Looking at the world now, it's obvious that man's main enemy and competitor on the food chain is man. Darwin noted that the competition within a species is more intense.

An invasion by martians might give mankind a reason to unite, but with our superior intelligence and egos that verge on God complexes, any resistance would be crippled by large numbers of people who'd prefer to collaborate and profit by treachery.

Idealists who believe in our innate niceness might scoff at that, but given the large number of people who wish they could become vampires or believe E.T.s built the pyramids, it's clear that the seeds of treason will always be present.

Well, maybe that is Darwinism after all. Like I said, the subject is full of nuance.

Anyway...the reason I discuss capitalism so much is that it is, in the Western World, more than God, the true state religion. Out there in the streets, it was a word that had a lot of relevance.

Like any philosophy or doctrine, capitalism often becomes what people say it is. Much of my early anxiety and fear of the streets was due to Hollywood and literary depictions of it being a tough place ruled by apex predators. Which, as I've said in the past, was found to be only partly true.

Capitalism is really about money. Nothing else.

Sure, there's things like power and status but none of that happens without money. Where that money goes and who gets it is only part of the doctrine. The comparisons to Darwin and survival of the fittest just tends to be one of many platitudes to keep the other 99% quiet and respectful.

The various species on this planet actually survive because of a multitude of successful strategies, but the main one is intelligence. "Street smarts" isn't just about being amoral or a supreme BS'er to survive. Most of the survivor types in my book were smart enough not to play the usual games.

"But I could not do the work of writing a book, or even a long magazine article, if it were not also an aesthetic experience."

- George Orwell (Essay: Why I Write)

I generally write out of sequence, as for whatever reason, the parts and passages tend to spill out of the consciousness in seemingly random order. That might be due to playing music, which may seem linear but isn't always so in the composition stage.

I wrote out the first draft knowing that the book wasn't opening in a satisfactory way, but kept writing, figuring to address it on the next run through. It was on the fourth pass where the first chapter really came together.

The second draft mainly added all of my thoughts and opinions, which would have resulted in an annoyingly subjective stream of consciousness book...but it was important in that the passages did delineate what I wanted the book to "say" and by the fourth draft was taking those mini essays out and putting in actual story, dialogue, and character actions to not only show what formed those opinions, but doing it a way that lets the reader decide what it means.

There were incidents that turned out to be connected to other passages and it was surprising to realize that there were things going on that weren't comprehended at the time.

For example, I saw things at the county social assistance office that seemed like simple friendly interaction between the homeless and gangs and totally missed the well oiled operation where dealers not only obtained ebt cards for sale but literally harvested homeless druggies for their monthly checks like sheep for their wool.

Also, as I constructed the story of one young woman, the various passages when combined showed her being groomed to become a truck stop hooker and that she was in fact being guarded and not just partying with the same group of guys. The final night she was in the area ended up in a scene that took on a much darker aspect than planned.

Part of the process was becoming more aware of what really happened so as a result, the decision was made to leave in descriptions as seen then, but tied together with better hindsight, with no later judgements or attempts at pathos. The reader can make their own judgement and conclusions, and even better, get a glimpse into their own feelings and attitudes by their reaction to the stories.

I'm still working that part out, how to describe the story as I saw it, and not as I see it now.

"Civilization has increased man's producing power a hundred-fold, and through mismanagement the men of civilization live worse than the beasts." 

- Jack London (The People Of The Abyss)

George Orwell saw Jack London as a person who truly understood fascism because of his atavistic Darwinian sensibilities. He also understood London because like him, he was also an "unreliable" socialist who saw the real world as opposed to trying to fit it into a doctrinal lens.

Both actually went in and lived in poor slum areas, and at times were among the homeless (though both had a different experience with it) and wrote about it. Homeless literature, particularly the first hand experience type, isn't a new phenomenon.

London did it when he was a successful, well off writer, and took the precaution to create a safe house during the early homeless phase of the book writing. There were points where he used it rather than tough it out on the streets, though one couldn't fault that as the intent was to create a first hand account rather than a memoir.

He wanted to understand slum life in London, who was living it, and portray the actual people and what they were like. What he saw deeply affected him. This was clear later in the book, when his feelings about the economic system and attitudes that made such a poor class even possible in a rich society came out. 

The focus was on people and their stories for the most part, and the understanding that poverty created a lifestyle that literally trapped people in it. Even more importantly, he was perceptive enough to realize that the poor wasn't one big group but several subcultures.

Orwell, who was inspired by London, engaged in similar forays into poverty zones and developed a similar take. Like his predecessor, the descriptions were detailed and remarkably free of judgement or preaching and more powerful because of that.

Orwell wrote two books, "Down and Out In London and Paris," and "The Road To Wigan Pier," both still worthwhile reading. The first part of the Wigan Pier book, which describes his experiences working among the Welsh Coal miners is a masterful, a true classic.

The second half of the Wigan Pier book, is a bit off topic, but worth describing. It assumes a devil's advocate role and discusses the faults of English socialism, and succeeded so well that the publisher of the book, a Socialist, felt it necessary to add a disclaimer that Orwell's essay in the second half didn't reflect the mainstream socialist view.

One of the offending passages said that socialists were perceived as sandal wearing "bearded fruit juice drinkers trying to eek out a few more years" of life, which also shows that the health food craze isn't a new phenomena.

As I said earlier, both he and London were considered "unreliable" socialists.  

The thing that affected me the most wasn't their descriptions of privation. A typical lunch before homelessness was often just beans, or cheese and bread. I didn't necessarily see having to eat a can of pork and beans in a car as a hardship.

What hit me was how important the mental aspect was, and the crippling effect of hopelessness and apathy. My own scariest moment wasn't due to any of the crime that was around or any physical threat.

It was when it hit me that the situation could be my life and future. It stemmed from a single incident that, in a manner of speaking, triggered an avalanche. A loss that any normal person might shrug off but felt cataclysmic at the time. That didn't happen to London, who could leave anytime. However, he did see that hopelessness was crippling, and that it was accentuated by the lifestyle. 

...the night life...

In one instance, he tried to stay out that night and sleep, then try to find a job in the morning. Instead, he had to join the multitude who were constantly chased out of doorways and parks, and finding that the police finally let them sleep when the parks opened during the day. Exhausted, and hungry, and with rain coming, he gave up and went back to the safe house. 

Seeing the homeless asleep on park benches during the day in America is generally dismissed as booze or drug fueled stupors, and certainly, that can be the case. Just as often, though, it's because they had to stay moving during the night, but for different reasons than London described. 

I devote a couple of chapters to that. I've stressed the importance of having a car in past blogs, that keeping it in running condition was the priority. The reason was that without it, I could end up on foot, carrying as much of my belongings as possible along with Ivy and in constant danger of being mugged at night.

In those chapters I reconstructed the night routines of various people that I saw. I know about it because during that six week period when my car was dead in the water, I had to think about what would happen if it was towed. There was at least one store manager who was trying his best to get the police to do that even though it was parked out on the street.

So, I watched the night people, where they went, their routines, where the safe areas were, etc. I didn't really think that if it came to being a back packer that it would stay that way for long. There were a couple of RV and car homeless that would have taken me in if that happened.

The problem was, that was an option only if they were still around.

For example, a couple and a woman who was part of an enclave, would dog sit Ivy so I could try to get a job, but the couple was chased out of town by the sheriffs department, the other by some store management and police. 

So suddenly within a two day period, no dog sitters. That's how unpredictable life was out there. I had to assume that if the car went away, we could be on our own for some period of time, and that it was dangerous to simply wander about without any plan or knowledge of the night scene.

The basic rule of survival on foot at night was either have a safe place (not to sleep, that would be stupid to do out in the open), or keep moving (at least until the "safe time"). 

The transient sleeping in a park archetype was described in London's book, and is still seen today. His comment is still relevant. He asked those who might assume it was just a lazy or dissolute person to realize that it might actually be the exhausted sleep of someone who'd been harried and moved along all night by the police. Once he experienced the night they had, they became real people and faces.

I can add, you would sleep out in public because bedding down in a private place is potentially very dangerous. Sleeping in an isolated hiding place is the equivalent of walking through dark alleys at night.

What I want to do is present the reader with faces and lives. Instead of an image of an unfortunate herd suitable for framing in a 90 second news spot or web article that mainly quotes business and property owners, it'll have stories like that of a young homeless woman escaping abuse and probably headed for a life of prostitution, drugs, or criminality. Put there by people who aren't homeless, and as a prostitute, serving members of respectable society not interested in helping her. 

Her story and others like it should say all what needs to be said. I think good decent people, like the ones who helped me so much won't need to be told what they're seeing.

I hope the book does a good job of letting you all see what I saw.

- Al Handa

  Dec. 13, 2018

Now live on Kindle Unlimited 

Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FGWKK19K