Commentary

Freezing Our Asses Off at the Feet of Al Gore

~ davidbiddle ~ Leave a comment

An essay first posted at GetUnderground.com and BlueOlives back in 2006 that is still highly relevant here in 2022.

Still from An Inconvenient Truth (2006) (Handout)

Dateline: August 2006 –The last time my wife Marion and I went on a date was back in 1990–before $3.00 gallons of gasoline; before the Prius; before the iPod; before the World Wide Web; before frickin’ Harry Potter. We saw the movie Darkman. Marion was so disgusted by the opening scene where the super bad guy, Robert Durant, cuts off a small-time hood’s finger with a cigar trimmer, that she walked out of the packed theater (I got her to come back, and there were no more problems, but it was a boring movie–very dark, but that’s about it). We were just past the age of 30 back then and it felt like we had the world by the tail. Nothing was dark to us except movies, novels, and closets. 

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Why There Are No Final Drafts

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Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

I completed the first draft of a story called “Millie Floating” in the fall of 2004. In those days, my goal was to edit a project until I had a final draft, at which time I could send it out to publications until someone accepted it. That was naive and wrong.

Fast forward nearly two decades. “Millie Floating,” a weird little story about a guy who wonders if his wife has murdered the family dog, was published in the Toho Literary print collection, The Best Short Stories of Philadelphia 2021. It would never have been published if I’d stuck with that final draft theory.

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What Do Mistakes Say About Writers?

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Photo by Ken Suarez on Unsplash

I have a problem here in this ultra-modern digital screenlife we’re all bouncing through. I can’t arrive at true and realistic final edits for my essays, articles, or even comments until I’ve posted online whatever I’ve composed in draft form offline.

For blog posts especially, I don’t fully catch typos and grammatical mistakes until I’m looking at my work with the awareness that there may well be real, live, anonymous people reading me out their in a big cruel opinionated world. Sometimes I catch structural problems in my work I should have seen from the beginning — maybe the need to move sentences into new positions, or ways to cut sections that I couldn’t see until the dang thing had gone global.

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Lonely Rebels Unite: It’s Novelicious

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Photo by Jonathan Cooper on Unsplash

You go through quite a journey of discovery when you write a novel. The reason that long fiction is so important is because it’s an extended opportunity to learn and think about being in the world. Sometimes novels and their ilk can also be a catalyst for Big Thought about the meaning of life and the Universe itself.

For novelists, as much as we want to provide readers with intriguing stories, what also happens is that we figure out new tidbits for ourself about the writing process and about storytelling in general. I’ve written extensively on that journey already in a number of places, but most importantly over at The Story Plant’s website I wrote about what I learned about American fiction while writing Old Music for New People.

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Talking to Each Other Without Understanding Much at All

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Photo by Meg on Unsplash

My essay post at The Story Plant from mid-July touches very directly on how poorly all of us have done talking with each other about gender identity issues. For years!

We’re not doing well in general these days talking about a lot of stuff, but the gender thing is really indicative of how inadequate people’s abilities to speak and listen have become. So many of us think we know “the truth” about gender. So many speak from the side of feeling judged by others and then judging back in return. It’s kind of a weird do-loop. What is the deal with judging others without trying to understand them first?

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Do You Know What You’re Missing?

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Bookshelf at Booked in Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia

I’ve had three guest posts up now at my publisher’s web site . Each of the pieces gives a bit of a different take on the origins of my novel, Old Music for New People. The read time for each of them is about a five minute read or less. I’m quite happy with each of those brief essays. They’re worth a read whether you buy my novel or not.

I’ve always had a difficult time as a writer with the idea of needing to explain myself and my work. It may be a weird way to look at the finished product, but ever since I published my first magazine article back in the 1980s it always feels like the words I wrote belong to each reader and to the world at large. My personal intent and purpose in writing something–anything–is secondary. What the reader thinks of whatever I’ve created is all that matters.

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Those Who Wake Up in Love

~ David Biddle ~ 2 Comments

Love seems to be growing rarer and rarer in this world, doesn’t matter which kind I’m talking about. There’s vitriol and hostility everywhere — on all sides. I get it, I suppose. Love in every form requires vulnerability and courage. These days everyone on so many levels is tired of feeling vulnerable. It’s all too obvious as well that courage and personal strength and the ability to take care of other people are expended resources.

So, in the words of the world’s greatest living romantic nihilistic cynic, Tony Johnson (Ricky Gervais) in the wonderful TV show After Life:

“… (long sigh …) Ah, fuck me!”

Tony Johnson (Ricky Gervais)

And yet, somehow, I’m pretty sure a good many people on this good green earth continue to wake up in love every morning. They can’t help it. I’m thinking of those still romantically connected to their partners; those with unshakable friendships; and whole families in general, no matter how distant and separated by coronavirus.

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The Voice of the Rising Tide

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I’ve been reading bits and pieces of Zen master and poet Thich Nhat Hanh’s The Miracle of Mindfulness for the past year. I posted a note on that back in January of 2020 called “The Enlightened and the Lonely.” It was weirdly more prescient than I could have ever known.

Turns out we’re all insane and we’re all locked in the same institution together whether we like it or not. I did not see, however, that there would be a certain group of idiots stuck in this place with the rest of us who are dead set on fucking things up and being assholes. They are not funny, but they are hilarious at the same time. The riddle is how we manage to find a way to feel love for them even though they are such screw ups.

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The Enlightened and the Lonely

~ davidbiddle ~ 2 Comments

Someone could become a millionaire selling a bumper sticker that says:

“If you don’t feel like you’re losing your mind these days, then you’re probably part of the problem.”

Over the past decade things in America just keep getting weirder and nastier. I’d like to blame that on social media and/or our ubiquitous portable communication devices, but I honestly don’t know if I have a leg to stand on with that.

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