Larry Gibbons
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MARKETING FUN AND JOY

25/6/2020

1 Comment

 
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YELLOW RUMPED WARBLER
Writing a novel is hard work. But marketing?! My god! It feels like undergoing daily stomach flu up-chucks.

​It’s like fly fishing. You take a long time to prepare the fly and then when you cast out your precious hand-crafted fly it’s like maybe I’ll catch one and maybe I won’t. While the black flies, deer flies and mosquitoes poke, gnaw and flutter in and out of every orifice on your body.


​
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WATER FROM THE FOREST
Why I’ve researched until I was grinding my teeth and squeezing the life out of my chair’s innocent arm. What a hoot! Party time!

​Get an agent. Don’t need an agent. Self publish. Traditional publishers are the best. Begin with the ending. End with the beginning. Opposite opinions everywhere. It’s like listening to political discourse. It pollutes your brain with dark noise and threatens to drive me into deeply depressive ruminations. 


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SALMON POOL'S TRAIL
Do we need evil to have good? Black to have white? Hard to have soft? An agent to not have an agent? Planning your novel to not planning your novel? Eating healthy food to not eating healthy food. See what I mean? If you do, then maybe you should have yourself checked out.

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BESIDE SALMON POOL'S TRAIL
Speaking of, there are plenty of opinions about this corona virus and the approach to take. Here’s one from a college retiree.

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A SNORING LOG
“I am not sure its entirely cynicism, but I do think that society has watered down people. They want and need to be force fed everything from fast food to (supposed) news and information. I haven't watched the news in 3 months and haven't missed a thing! This whole CV19 thing is very much a media driven event herding people around like cattle, unduly influencing their actions and decisions because they cannot function for themselves.”
                      A College Retiree        
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WINDY AFTERNOON ON BEACH
I play games when I am, for example, cycling.

Here’s one. I pretend I’m on a game show. 

Now, one of the roads I cycle on is only technically paved. 

“Gee mommy, that road isn’t wearing any pavement.”

​“Settle down, sonny. It’s Cape Breton and it’s wearing Cape Breton pavement.”


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FOAMY CHETICAMP RIVER
My cycling road has potholes to die for. Cars go the long way to avoid the road. Around here, you purchase ball joints at the bulk store. 
However, it’s a good road on which to play my little game. 

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HEADING OUT OVER THE OCEAN
So how does the game go? Well, I pretend I’ve been given this task. I have to cycle to the end of the road without seeing a motorized vehicle. Either direction. I don’t make it easy. If I see no vehicles I win a million dollars.

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SEAGULL LANDING
The last time I played I did pretty well. No cars up to the final five K stretch. Five more k’s and I’m a millionaire. 

Here comes a damn SUV ducking around the holes. 


​“Damn you!” I whisper as I give the driver a cheery wave and a swear-finger behind my back. I can ride with no hands.


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CHETICAMP RIVER
Now, because of the damn SUV, I’m only playing for one hundred thousand dollars. If I see another vehicle it drops to ten thousand dollars.

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CABIN ON SALMON POOL'S TRAIL
So how much did I win in my last cycling game? I won one hundred thousand dollars. Not a bad haul for an hour’s cycling.

​I dare you to try that game on the Trans Canada. However, the rules are a little different. If you see a car or a truck, you can phone a friend.


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ON THE WAY TO CHETICAMP
1 Comment

THE ROAD TO SOMEWHERE

6/6/2020

0 Comments

 
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THE ROAD
I’ve been watching for some time, a leader trash his country. I believe that De La Fontaine was correct when he wrote “We believe no evil until the evil’s done.”
            Jean De La Fontaine, Fables. Book 1

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HARSH REALITY
“Great men are they who see that the spiritual is stronger than any material force; that thoughts rule the world.”
            Ralph Waldo Emerson, Progress of Culture

Yesterday I watched a Bible being used and abused in front of a church. It made me think of this quote.

 
​“It is hard to think that men could from innocent motives thus punish their fellows, but such is, no doubt, the fact. They were conscientious, and felt that they were doing the righteous service unto the Lord. They believed literally in cutting off right hands and plucking out right eyes. Heaven and hell were alike under their control. They believed that they had the keys, and they lived up to their convictions. They could smile when they heard bones crack in the stocks and saw the maiden’s flesh torn from her bones. It is only the best things that serve the worst perversions. Many pious souls today hate the negro while they think they love the Lord.”

  Life and Times of Frederick Douglas, Frederick Douglas
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FROM ON HIGH
It helps me feel a little better when I read about all the authors who had to deal with crap-loads of rejection slips before their books were published. Misery loves company.

J.K. Rowling’s “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone”  (1997) was rejected by twelve presses.


The rejection letter for F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” said, ”You’d have a decent book if you’d get rid of that Gatsby character.”


​William Golding’s “Lord of the Flies” was rejected twenty-one times. One rejection letter read that it was “an absurd and uninteresting fantasy which was rubbish and dull.”


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OCEAN, ROCK AND SKY
The book “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” was rejected 121 times.

​Stephen King, who had plenty of rejection letters wrote, “—-impale the rejection letter on a spike and keep writing—.”


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BRAVERY
And what about editors who will publish your book, but want lots of changes? Editors are extremely important and most published books have had good editors. However, when does a writer risk having an editor force changes which don’t come close to the writer’s vision?

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LAUGHING
Or what about when the editors decide how they think the novel could be improved? Then the writer changes the novel to satisfy the publisher and BANG! Incoming rejection letter.

​I personally was told by a publisher that my novel was too dark and too angry. I’m thinking that maybe it wasn’t angry enough, but I whitened it up a tad, gave it an anti-depressant and re-wrote it. Didn’t matter. I got the rejection letter. 

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IS THIS A PAINTING?
Now I just need 121 publishers’ names and addresses so I can receive my allotted number of rejection slips for my new blockbuster “Zen and the Art of Ego Maintenance”.

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ABUNDANCE. ALL BY HERSELF
Like everyone else, I’ve been hearing plenty about this virus. Yes sir, we have a tiger by the tail and it ain’t going to be easy to let it go.

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LAYERS ON LAYERS
And, not only that, but we have ticked off the environment and it’s, I believe, playing a part in this corona virus saga.

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FOLLOW THE FENCE
One of the comments I’ve heard is that this pandemic didn’t have to happen. That if the government and other ruler types had done their job, we wouldn’t be in this lock-down situation.

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WOOD DUCK FLOATING ON OUR POND
However, although I’m sad that people are dying, in another way, I think this pandemic had to happen. The human race had to, at some point, take its knee off the environment’s neck and allow it time to clean up and regain its health.

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MALLARDS??
I hope when this virus is beaten we don’t, once again, jump full bore into abusing, taking for granted and raping the natural world. 

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WORTH PROTECTING
An example is the clear-cutting of forests during song bird nesting season. Such a small thing in the overall operation of the universe and yet the corona virus is so tiny it’s invisible to the naked eye. I guess the natural world has some testy little treats who can punch way beyond their weight class.

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HIKING BUDDY ENJOYING RED ISLAND BEACH
“Continue to contaminate your own bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste.”
                               Chief Seattle

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ON RED ISLAND BEACH
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