Rotten? Yes. we all have some rotten-(n)ess in us. Mine is  confined (but not exclusively) to E2 reading: I frequently (though not always) skip the fiction pieces. That's certainly rotten. But, on the other hand, it's not evil. Because I'm not disrespectful, disinterested or even dismissive of fiction, far from it. But reading tl;dr pieces on the LED/LCD screen is quite uncomfortable. If I had an ipad or a Kindle, that may be different, but I don't.  Anyway, I think that this problem is of some importance. Or maybe not.

Because, as I see it, E2 futures beckon brightly to fiction. E2 is the place where you can try out your compositional experiments and GET A FEEDBACK. The feedback part of E2 has not been given quite the due it deserves - it's actually the single most particular characteristic of the site. So on E2 you can feedbackwise hone your fictional skills (and test various approaches) until you sell 44 million paper copies of the stuff. This should attract a whole lot of aspiring fiction-writers to E2. It's actually bound to do so, once the writers in question discover this fabulous feature.

So, my feeling of rottenness has to do with the fact that I rottenly skip the most important feature of E2. But I hope that you excuse me, because my eysight is not getting any better (I've just turned 80). And I'm convinced that other E2'ans don't have my tl;dr problem, fictionwise. 




Where the hell does the time go? One minute I’m chasing skirts all over town with little or no success and the next thing you know I’m laying on the floor playing with my grandkids with a huge smile on my face. In retrospect, I guess I’ve lived a somewhat interesting life that has had its fair share of ups and downs. We probably all have our tales to tell. But for me, for an awful long time those downs certainly outnumbered the ups, or maybe it just seemed that way. After my recent family reunion I somehow feel a bit more refreshed and seem to have found a purpose that was missing for so long.

Next year, Anna goes off to college. Can you fuckin’ believe it cuz I sure can’t.

What follows is probably a bit self indulgent, (that’s why it’s being posted hidden and in a daylog, as it should be) and I hope I do Bruce some justice to his lyrics as I try to chronicle certain times and events that have shaped me and the person I’ve become. While some of them are fictional and some are based on real life events they’re all still a part of me.

Fuckin’ weird….

I stood stone-like at midnight,
suspended in my masquerade
I combed my hair till it was just right
and commanded the night brigade
I was open to pain and crossed by the rain
and I walked on a crooked crutch
I strolled all alone through a fallout zone
and come out with my soul untouched
I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd,
but when they said, "Sit down," I stood up
Ooh... growin' up

My oldest daughter just sent me a link to some pictures that were taken while we were visiting last month. I opened them at work and had trouble holding back the tears. Whomever coined the phrase that you can’t make up for lost time sure nailed it. As I look at them for the umpteenth time I find myself wondering to what happened to all the years in between. How much had I missed during that time?

I find it some kind of strange miracle that my older kids can even begin to forgive me.

The flag of piracy flew from my mast,
my sails were set wing to wing
I had a jukebox graduate for a first mate,
she couldn't sail but she sure could sing
I pushed B-52 and bombed them with the blues
with my gear set stubborn on standing
I broke all the rules, strafed my old high school,
never once gave thought to landing
I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd,
but when they said, "Come down," I threw up
Ooh... growin' up

Gawd, if I had to do it all over again I don’t know where I’d even begin. I’d probably get rid of the late 70’s and early 80’s when cocaine took precedence over almost everything. Today, I can’t fuckin’ believe what a stranglehold that shit had on my life and I’m still suffering from the aftershocks to this day. I wish I could chalk it off to the mistakes one makes in their youth but when I look at myself in the mirror I realize just who (whom?) I’d be kidding when I see my own image staring back at me.

I took month-long vacations in the stratosphere,
and you know it's really hard to hold your breath
I swear I lost everything I ever loved or feared,
I was the cosmic kid in full costume dress
Well, my feet they finally took root in the earth,
but I got me a nice little place in the stars
And I swear I found the key to the universe
in the engine of an old parked car
I hid in the mother breast of the crowd,
but when they said, "Pull down," I pulled up
Ooh... growin' up
Ooh... growin' up

Yeah Bruce, I first heard this tune when Greetings From Asbury Park came out somewhere around 1973 or so. We all used to listen to it as some kind of anthem to youth and maybe that’s what it was intended to be. Shit, we were both a lot younger then and had different things on our minds at the time. But somewhere along the line those lines shifted. Time ain't what it used to be and now when I hear it, it’s almost tinged with regret.

Maybe now I’m all grown up.

Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Lyrics to “Growin’ Up” copyright by Bruce Springsteen and recorded on the album, yes album, “Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J." way back in 1973.

Today my literary agent started submitting my fantasy novel to publishers hoping for nibbles.

Still feeling pretty weird about that.

The pitch is polished. The initial list of editors and imprints is picked out. The querying has begun.

I'm still kind of blinking in disbelief at the fact that a bunch of them responded immediately and not all of them said no.

There are people at gigantic publishers on this planet asking to read my book right now. They could be reading it this very second. Deciding whether I suck too much or whether my book is delicious.

It's kind of one of the most important things I've ever done and it feels weird for it to be happening so far away where I can't see it or keep track of it myself or influence it. It's out of my hands. I need a lot of luck. The part of this that was skill is already over.

I need luck.

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