Thursday, October 30, 2014

Excerpts From Book #2 (Untitled)

Many people have asked me in the last few months if there will be a sequel to I'm Trying Here, my first book. The answer is no, at least not right now. I never rule out the possibility of future projects, but for now a continuation of my first work is not where I am headed. My next book that is on pace to be done by January or February is a more serious work, a book about the Holocaust, and my experiences learning about it, and visiting Auschwitz. It is a cross-breeding of genres, part historical, part philosophical, part motivational, and part memoir. I don't want to give too many spoilers, and I am not ready to unveil the title, but I would like to leave a few small excerpts for anxious readers. Stay tuned for new updates on the book's progress, title and cover. I am very excited about this book, and as a young delusional artist, I of course think it will be a masterpiece on par with New York Bestsellers. But until I reach some modicum of fame, I need you to go purchase my first book. If you already have, there are still two invaluable things you can do to help my career. You can leave a review on Amazon and or Goodreads, and you can tell a friend. Okay, enough begging for favors. Here are the excerpts, let me know what you think.

Excerpt I

"I wake up. It’s 3:21 a.m. I’m twenty-seven years old. I haven’t been on a school bus for years, and I have long since left Arizona. I’m alone in a cheap hotel room in Warsaw, Poland. A familiar song reverberates in my foggy head. Its chorus repeats the simplistic and symbolic words, “I’m coming home, I’m coming home.” I go to the bathroom and return to bed wondering what elicited such a vivid and frightful dream."

Excerpt II

"I looked towards the main entrance and saw white birds flying around in what looked like figure eights. I thought about how eternally free those birds were and how their whiteness and freedom contrasted so greatly with the victims of Auschwitz, the ghosts behind the barbed wire fences."


Excerpt III

 "I stood there and held back tears for the mothers who would never see their infants again, and my stomach churned for the fathers that would never teach their kids how to throw a ball, or anything for that matter. I thought of my own parents and the love that that they had woven into my life from day one. In the same way that you put yourself in the shoes of the protagonist in a dramatic movie, I put myself in the shoes of the family members that lost so much. I was reminded of the ingenious brevity of the author Thomas Wolfe who scattered his novel Look Homeward, Angel with the phrase “O Lost!”


Excerpt IV

"In the middle of the mountain of stolen suitcases, the name Greilsamer poked out, beneath it lay luggage of a Mr. Steindler. In the distance, barely visible, I saw Orov protrude through the rubble, almost as if to say, "Remember me?" I thought of my own surname and what it would look like on a discarded box of my belongings. The whole idea of it all ripped me insides apart. I shuffled on laterally and saw dozens more names, Slavic names I couldn't pronounce. But I knew they all had a history, a past full of holidays, newborns, smiles, and Bar Mitzvahs. I would never know the contents of these suitcases, nor would anyone else, and for some reason that bothered me."





 

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Recharging Yourself



The other day I was in a foul mood. My day was fine, but my night left me unsettled and on edge. I got in a little fight with someone I care about, and it left me sickened at night. Sleep barely came, but then it came fully and enveloped me in my warm bed. I woke up feeling like crap, and not wanting to get out of bed. I was sick of the monotony of my own life, and bothered by a lack of excitement, an absence of wonderful. I lay in bed long after I woke up, dreading the day, and thinking up reasons why staying in bed all day was socially acceptable. Then I got a call from a close friend.
All he said was “Bro, let’s go on an adventure.” My first thought was no. I needed to be productive, and I needed to feel bad for myself, which is hard to do in fine company. But as he spoke on, enthusiastic as ever, the seed of negativity I had planted in myself the night before started to incinerate. Maybe a little spontaneity and sunshine was all I needed, a little recharging.
“An adventure” is wildly ambiguous, but I kind of loved the ambiguity that day. My friend picked me up and we started driving with no real course of action or destination. “Where should we go?” he asked. “Let’s go east,” I said. So we drove on. My buddy cancelled his meeting later that night, and I wore a new smile. We rolled down the windows and felt the air, but really felt it. We would over the course of the next six or seven hours make many stops through the canyon highway to explore abandoned homes and lost graveyards. After traversing streams, eluding curious farmers, and stopping in on an all but forgotten town, we made it to Price, Utah. We knew there was not much to see there, but we knew there would be a nice place to eat, and a place to sit and converse of real things.
We found a delicious diner. As we waited for our food, I wrote down a few words. It was not my finest prose, but I wanted it out on paper before my memory deluded things. The words of William Faulkner leaped into my mind. Speaking of the urgency to write and record, he said, “Get it down. Take chances. It may be bad, but it’s the only way you can do anything really good.” I followed suit and scribbled down this:


“We stopped to stretch, and kick around the skateboard. A couple sat nearby on a bench and affably called us over, recognizing our out-of-townness. The man was burly, with a soft smile and grimy hands. He wore a bandana and heavy jeans. His woman was clad in some gaudy neon top and pants she should have given to Goodwill years ago. They both respectfully blew smoke in the opposite direction. They were clearly still in love, and ate their McDonald’s in innocent happiness.
Our next stop, five miles down the road was the loan diner in town. It was a Thursday, but the place was packed. Men sat in silence after long days of working manual labor jobs. The men were the types that wore their cellphones outside of their belts, in large phone cases. They had sturdy workshoes, and tattered T-shirts with motocross insignias and demolition derby designs. On my way to the bathroom I saw two cute girls probably in high school dining together. Needing a reasonable excuse to talk to them, I said ‘Hey me and my buddy are just passing through, is there anything we should see while we are here?’ They smiled nervously as I eyed both of them with seductive possibility. One spoke up confidently, yet flatly, ‘There’s nuthin’ to see here, it’s a pretty sucky place to live.’ I laughed, complimented the town’s culinary achievements, and moved on.”



After dinner we rode home in dark bliss, listening to music from high school. The whimsy and glory of the day completely reset my attitude and recharged my batteries that had been corroded and dead from a couple rough days. The fresh air, keen friendship, and spontaneity were exactly what I needed. A true friend, a nice meal, and a change in the routine were a simple thing, but precisely what my soul required. Sometimes we need to recharge, reboot, and start again. For me, a little writing, a little exploring, and a little attention was what I needed to propel me forward again. What do you need to feel better again? There is not a panacea for stress, and there is no cure-all for the blues, but there are small things that can rejuvenate us, and set us back on the correct path. Maybe we need that, or maybe we have been so blessed to realize that someone close to us needs that.








Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Get Your Copy of "I'm Trying Here," Now in Print

After two months of writing, another couple months of editing, an additional month of formatting, a few weeks of procrastination I released the e-book version of my book "I'm Trying Here" almost 5 months ago. The writing itself seemed to be easier than the subsequent marketing and shameless self-promotion that would follow. It has been my goal since day one to get my book printed, but I soon realized without any connections in the literary world, without a literary agent, or any previously released titles I was a bit rudderless. After dozens of submissions to publishing companies, I learned a few things. The first is that most major publishing companies do not actually accept unsolicited manuscripts from unknown authors. The other discovery was that many "vanity presses" exist. These are publishing houses that will print your book for you if you just give them a pretty little check with some commas in it. After reading blog post after blog post, and various e-books on getting published, I decided to self-publish. Amazon facilitated my dream, and the talent and support of many others allowed me to finally create a print version of my book; a book you can hold in your hands, something tactile, something you can smell and write in.

Now, a little news on how to get it. People enjoy their literature in different forms, so the e-book will remain available ($2.99) as well as the new paperback option ($8.99). The e-book is available immediately on Amazon, and can be found simply by searching "I'm Trying Here" by Taylor Church. The hard copy will be available on Amazon in a little under a week, in the meantime it is available on Amazon's sister company CreateSpace. To find it there, click here https://www.createspace.com/4948156.

For those of you who are not fans of Amazon, and hate whipping out your credit card and deciding on regular or expedited shipping I will have a consistent stock of 10-20 books at all times, as soon as October 6. So, books can be bought directly from me. You are welcome to send me an e-mail or personal message on Facebook if that is the route you wish to take.

As always what makes the book succeed is word of mouth and positive feedback. A review on Amazon or Goodreads is almost more valuable than the four dollars I receive per purchase. And telling a friend can get the stone rolling down the mountain. So if you read the book, and enjoyed it, please tell your friends that are familiar with the concept of reading, and take the two minutes to leave a review online, even if it simply says, "A good read," or "I liked it."

In the coming months I have scheduled various book signings and other events, along with a new website to promote the book and other upcoming projects. So stay tuned. Follow me on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook and let me know if you have any questions.













Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Waxing Religious: What I Want vs. What I REALLY Want

I try not to get too religious with my musings and narcissistic rantings, but when I philosophize on things I find to be important, my beliefs have no successful way of hiding. You can’t effectively drown a rubber ducky, it will eventually float back up. I likewise cannot seem to submerge my religiosity without it returning to the surface at some point. But as is always the case with such texts, you can choose to stop reading the second a word makes you uncomfortable, or you can try to glean from the material something of value and interest for yourself. Just because the writer believes something, does not mean that the reader must be coaxed into a similar belief system. Literature is meant to open the mind, erase worries, and elicit never before-had thoughts.  With that under our cognitive belts, let’s get to the crux of the matter.

There are two things in this world that I want, and that I constantly want, and only recently have I been able to categorize them into two very basic groups: The things I want, and the things I REALLY want. Mind you, I am not prone to using all caps, so this was a big revelation for me. I’ve found that in almost all of my day to day decision making, in the things I desire, there are but these two degrees of want. But what is the difference? The word really, even with its brazen uniform of all caps is not that descriptive of a word. All really really implies is an entrance into reality or actuality. So when I say “I want to take out Susan this weekend” versus “I really want to take out Susan this weekend,” the only noticeable difference is that one seems more real, more genuine, more important

Here’s where I wax religious. To me, the difference in these two types of wants lies in the eternal perspective. I believe my choices will have eternal consequences, and what I REALLY want is usually indicative of an eternal desire, something I know will last and not just satisfy immediate urges.

Let’s kick a scenario. Let’s say there is someone I am courting, and I want to be intimate with them. But I also want to remain chaste, as my religious conviction reminds me. What do I do? I want to be intimate with this girl, but I want to maintain a modicum of chastity as well. So, I ask myself the simplest of questions. Which do I really want? Which choice will elevate me in the grand scheme of things? It seems like such a silly and almost ridiculous thing to have to stop and ask yourself. But I have found it helpful when contemplating what I really want. For me it is not so much a question that I ask myself before I do anything, but rather a question that remains in my head in moments of reflection and introspection. Is this something I want to keep doing, or something I REALLY want to keep doing? It’s similar to the Good/Better/Best question. Just because something isn’t abhorrent or stupid it doesn’t make that thing the best possible option. And so it is with the “What I want vs. What I REALLY want” question.

We have a tendency to think that the majority of our decisions are trivial and inconsequential in the eternal realm of things, but I think paying closer attention to the little choices, the smaller hinges that turn the wheels of our lives will prove to be greatly beneficial.  Whether you believe in an afterlife, or not, a supreme being or not, or if you just believe in the power of yourself, it isn’t a bad idea to reflect on what’s REALLY important, and if what you so often claim to want is what you REALLY want.

Thomas Wolfe, a modern writer believed deeply in the principle of small acts, the reality of all we do having a relative consequence to the future. His prose sung true in 1929 as he said,

 “Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into nakedness and night again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended yesterday in Texas.”