Thanks to Shaun Thomson, I’ve been living life with my Code. I mentioned this in my last post and I’ll mention it a lot. The premise is to write yourself promises. Write them by hand. Say them out loud. Scream them. Keep them with you like I do, folded and in my small notebook. Don’t cheat and just think about them to yourself. And for shit’s sake don’t use GenAI to write them.
As I sit and write this week’s post, two of my promises jump out at me.
- Promise number 7: I will write every day
- Promise number 8: I will complete three books
On promise number 7. Yeah, it’s damn tough. I really try to pen one sentence or idea every day, but I’m not holding up to my promise. You can gather that from the fact that I only post these every couple of months. Big failure. But if you recall, I journal when I write. Every time I sit down to work on a book or a post or a short story, I write a letter first, complete with the date and where I’m sitting. So I have a chronicling of how often or rarely I write. It’s a constant reminder or motivator. I mentally try to flip the feeling from being one of defeat to one of incentive.
On promise number 8. Well, it’s funny. I’m not writing every day, but I’m writing enough. Looking ahead toward the end of the month, I’ll have 2 out of 3 books written. I’ve finished one and almost finished the second. I’ll start in reverse order.
The book I’m almost finished is one I’ve already talked about. The working title is Mist on the Manasquan. It’s the story of two young sisters who befriend the spirit of Robert Louis Stevenson and go on an adventure chasing Captain Kidd’s lost treasure. It’s the culmination of years of research, tossed drafts, and travel to locations. Even more exciting is that my friend and artist Jim Inzero is creating illustrations. I love this story because it brings together real history of my area. In May, 1888, Robert Louis Stevenson visited Brielle for a month. While sailing a catboat in the Manasquan River, he landed on and named what we call Treasure Island.
The book I am finished is called Musings from 19-81. Below I’ve dropped in the exact description I’ve sent to publishers. One of whom has expressed interest.
Title: Musings from 19-81
About: The album The Musings of Miles by Miles Davis contains six emotional songs, each with a story. The album itself stands as Davis’s rebirth into playing and composing after battling addiction.
Musings from 19-81 is a collection of tales inspired by the album’s song titles, moods, and back stories. But they each have their own flavor and depth. Each short story follows a single soul’s battles with the difficult simplicities of life, from monotonous love to the loss of a wife. And they track these characters as they falter and try to find their own rebirth.
All of the stories are also inspired by the author’s love and memories of the Cayman Islands – longitude and latitude 19-81.
This book is a perfect example of the spiritual stew created when what feel like disparate happenings stir together. You see, my promise number 7 is intentional. It is damn hard to write every day, especially when life is so important. As a writer, I often find myself dejected when I’m not practicing the craft enough.
Last November, our family was heading to the Cayman Islands for vacation, a place I’ve fallen in love. I can easily see myself living there. I’d not written a lot before leaving, so I promised myself that I’d use the trip to plug back in. Unplug from work. Plug into my writing. As we boarded the plane, I downloaded some music. Also as I’ve mentioned, I enjoy writing with Miles Davis playing in the background. I grabbed an album I’d not yet heard – Musings. It hit. That night when my wife and girls slept, I did some research into the album and felt that it was no accident that I stumbled upon it – his rebirth and my chance to dive back into my storytelling. The next morning I woke before everyone else. I turned on the album, sat down with my notebook, and wrote an entire series of short stories. Each story is connected to each of the tracks. Personally, it was one of the greatest feelings of achievement I’ve had as a writer. One sitting. One collection.
But what would I call it? Writing is tough. Titling your work is terrifying. I have pages and pages of title ideas. My process is similar to writing anything else though. Write without thought and it will work its way onto the page. So the next few days I did just that. I’d sit on the beach or at the bar and just jot down all sorts of ideas. Then a beer got poured into the spiritual stew. It was late at night, my wife and girls were already sleeping. I was restless and made my way to The Lazy Lizard – the pool bar connected to our condo complex. It was relatively quiet except for a few locals who were unwinding from their day. I opened up my notebook and started jotting down title thoughts and asked the bartender to surprise me with a beer. This is what she set down on the bar-top.
Holy crap! That’s it! The beer was and is delicious, the sort of IPA that gives IPAs a good name. Clean, citrusy, and fitting for the island vibe. It’s a great IPA for those who claim they hate IPAs. But honestly, the beer could have been terrible. When she set the can down in front of me and I read the beer’s name, I realized this was the title. Just like I had blended the Davis album with the island to craft my stories, I’d do the same with the title. Musings from 19-81 was born.
That’s the story behind the story for the second of my three books. I still need to write one more to complete my promise and I’m between two ideas. I’d love to hear which is more interesting to you.
- A priest about to celebrate his Ruby Jubilee strikes up a relationship with the widower who runs a coastal bed and breakfast
- Historical story about a young fighter pilot who gets his pregnant girlfriend to flee their native country because he opposes the cause
- For this I have translated letters from him to her
I should add a promise to my list – to write more Beach, Break and Brew. I get a lot of feedback on these when I do post them, and I truly appreciate it.
Matt DeVirgiliis 