TRUE lies

May 8th, 2022

My mom said lies that she would make true.

For example, she used to regularly tell me how nice my teeth are. Not just nice, but how I had the whitest, straightest, most astonishing teeth that she had ever seen in her entire life.

Most of you have seen my teeth. They are normal teeth, at best. I think I tried to whiten them once, but they bled all over the sink, because there was a span of over ten years where I never visited a dentist. Objectively, my teeth are okay, if you’re being generous.

But she believed it.

I could tell. She wasn’t indulging in toxic positivity, she wasn’t lying to enhance my self-esteem, she genuinely thought that I could have been a professional male model based on the quality of my molars alone.

She would compliment my hair even though I’m balding.

She thought I had style even though I dress like I can’t see myself.

She told me regularly that she thought my music sounded good. (This is my favorite because my mom was literally deaf.)

And she believed it so much that I would start to believe it, too.

I want to say Happy Mother’s Day to those who are celebrating.

But if you’re like me and feel a little down today, I have a suggestion.

Tell someone you like their teeth today.

And mean it.

And watch all the moms we have lost live on.

Free Comic Book Day 2022

May 7th, 2022

It’s Free Comic Book Day, an event that celebrates an art form that has had not only a substantial impact on culture and society, but has a deeply personal connection with the people who love it.

I’m one of those people.

I create comics (see: The Weirdos: Volume I, a graphic novel I released in May 2020, or Brushfire, a graphic novel coming out this July). I have also said countless times that comics have saved my life; I’ve told some of those stories to my friends, but I don’t know if I’ve written about any.

Let’s write about one.

Avengers #687.

Part 13 of No Surrender. Waid, Ewing, Zub, Medina, Vlasco & Aburtov.

This book came out at the beginning of my sobriety. I was having a very hard time, to put it plainly.

In this issue, Bruce Banner — the Hulk — had just come off a rampage. “Do you know what it’s like to turn on the TV in the morning to find out what you did the night before?” I’m paraphrasing, but that idea hit me like a big, green fist. I know exactly what that’s like.

I was sober, but I had just started the journey to figure out if a life like mine was even worth saving.

Then Jarvis, the butler, had this to say to Bruce:

“It has long been my privilege to serve heroes. Including you, doctor.

Including you.

And often, what drives them on is the knowledge that they are not always heroes. If, when we do what good we can, we are avengers — what crimes are we avenging?

I think… our own.

We carry within us all our failures. All our mistakes. All the times we have done less than we might. We are all exiles from the divine, Doctor Banner.

What matters is how hard you work to rise again.

I beg you, sir. Do not give up.”

And so I didn’t. This page got me through that day, and I refer to it often.

It saved my life.

And I’ve heard so many stories of pop culture lifting people up that it reminds me how worthwhile it is.

Even when we don’t deserve it.

Happy FCBD, true believers.

put em up

May 4th, 2022

I hate guns. Hate ’em.

In fact, I think that anybody who owns one can’t, with a straight face or clear grasp on reality, call themselves “pro-life,” as guns are designed to only end life — human, animal, or otherwise.

Anyone who has a gun and tells you it’s strictly for “defense” is just showing off their cognitive dissonance, which is way less impressive once you look up what “cognitive dissonance” means.

So do I think guns should be outlawed?

Nah.

Because the guns are out of the bag, so to speak. They will always exist because they do exist.

Keeping them legal everywhere keeps us responsible for them; we don’t get to throw our hands up in the air (metaphorically) and say they’re not our problem because they’re not allowed.

It’s bizarre, but we have a whole culture around guns, groups of people who obsess over this device that is simply here to kill.

And not only is gun culture legal, but encouraged.

Lots of people even call guns “fun.”

Fun.

I don’t want to own a gun myself, but I just don’t see the logic in banning them. It allows us to theoretically keep their existence as safe as we can as fallible humans; we can educate and train people in their use; it gives us a good idea of where they go and who to.

Even though I don’t like them.

Not one bit.

Image description: it’s me firing a gun, a tool invented to kill stuff.

Star Wars Day 2022

May 4th, 2022

Happy Star Wars Day.

I have written at length about my love for that galaxy far, far away several times (even recently, as I was going through my first viewing of the Clone Wars television series), so I’ll keep it light (side) today.

Cold World is a love letter to many things. One of those things is pop culture, and Star Wars specifically; I’ve even described my new book half-jokingly as “Star Wars for people who don’t like Star Wars,” which will totally make sense when you read it.

For someone who is in the middle spiritually, the universe of Star Wars has been a place for me to make sense of the spiritual world. I’m not doing a bit when I say that; the idea of the Force allows me to see varieties of faith presented in terms I can comprehend, appreciate and interpret.

That’s a pretty neat trick for a story about laser swords and alien puppets.

I’m notorious for finding the good in things, and there isn’t one corner of this galaxy where I can’t discover greatness.

No matter how you choose to celebrate (or not celebrate) today, May the Fourth be with you. Always.

“Uncomfortable”

May 2nd, 2022

“In America, you have the right to seek the truth and speak the truth, even if it makes people in power uncomfortable. Even if it makes your viewers or readers uncomfortable. You understand how amazing that is?” – Trevor Noah, 2022 White House Correspondents’ Dinner

“Uncomfortable.”

It’s a word I’ve been thinking a lot about lately.

What makes you uncomfortable? Why?

Many people don’t ask themselves because the answer might make them… uncomfortable.

Because of what I am, I’ve had to learn to embrace radical honesty. That means that I often speak my mind and allow my guts and heart to spill out.

A side effect of this is that it makes some people uncomfortable.

And I believe that if people explored why, it might tell them exactly what they need to learn about themselves.

More precisely: what is it that they’re trying to avoid or escape?

Is it conflict? Emotion? Certain ideas? Specific situations or people? Their lifestyle? Their impending and not uncertain end?

If I never got past being uncomfortable, talking about uncomfortable things and making uncomfortable changes, then I would never have become the person I am today.

If I hadn’t embraced radical honesty, then I would be dead.

If that’s not radically honest AND uncomfortable, I don’t know what is.

The next time you feel uncomfortable, ask yourself why. I know I do.

And the next time someone tries to silence you because the truth you’re speaking is making them uncomfortable, allow them to feel sorry for themselves for a moment, and then say the truth, anyway.

Good Time

May 1st, 2022

It’s my birthday today. I put on the calendar “write something heart-wrenching, soul-baring, way too much, you know, like you used to” and who am I to argue with the calendar?

Living with the problem of addiction means I will always be hungry for more. This remains true in the case of time.

Last year, May was a hard month for me. I was born on the first day, my mom was born on the last, and they stick a day in the middle for mother appreciation; I woke up every May morning reminded that “moms are great and yours is dead.”

I didn’t say anything because the show must go on, and my life is just show business, baby.

I am a ridiculously nostalgic person. I know that nostalgia affects most human beings, but my entire life I have felt nostalgia for the moments I am in.

When I was a kid, I would look around on my birthday and think, “It’s not going to be like this forever.” As a teenager, I was constantly doing the math, counting down summers and class days and rehearsals and after-school shifts. In my twenties, I watched myself wash down any hopes of being a prodigal talent.

And through all of it, all I wanted was more.

More minutes, more hours, more days, more time, just like this.

And that would be my birthday wish. More.

I don’t know when it happened. It was slowly, almost imperceptible. But one day, instead of wanting one more year just like this one, I was grateful for getting the year I got.

Because who the fuck am I to have gotten all this good time?

I don’t know when this happens for most people; I know for a fact that it doesn’t happen to everyone. But I do know that once you figure it out, to be grateful instead of hungry, is when you finally start appreciating life on its own terrible terms.

And life is. Terrible, I mean.

It’s cruel and it’s mean and it pushes you around and it isn’t fair.

And the only way to beat it is to love and be kind and to hold people close.

So go celebrate your life today. Let yourself appreciate the gift you got when you woke up this morning.

Because who the fuck are you to get all this good time?

Cold World = Complete

April 28th, 2022

Cold World is finished.

In the early morning, I locked the final draft, and it is currently in production in two printing facilities and will start existence as a real book in just a few weeks.

Whew.

This is my view when I create something, my editing partner who reminds me to get up and play fetch sometimes, and keeps me focused on why I tell stories at all.

I’ll have a lot more to say when the books arrive, but I just want to tell you I am grateful, and so happy with this novel. It’s one of my favorites.

I also want to take this time to talk about and thank the producers in my life.

I use the term producer a lot in relation to the word artist. The world is full of both, and we need each other to have nice things.

When I want something to eat, I’ll tell Holly, “Let’s have cheese quesadillas,” and in my head I imagine a warm tortilla with some cheese maybe melted in it. She’ll respond, “Okay. Should we add some black olives and green peppers to that? What kinds of cheese should we use? Do you want me to cut up some avocado for you? Let me look at the spices we have. What would you like on the side?” In short, I only eat well because she exists in my life.

An artist is the person who has the new ideas to begin with; a producer is the person who cares deeply about the details, and can take that raw idea and turn it into something transcendent.

Generally, I am an artist. I care more about ideas and emotions and I will, sometimes deliberately, sometimes carelessly, overlook details in the service of how something feels.

I can shift into producer mode, and I actually grew up learning everything I could about being one, but I’ve been lucky enough to have a lot of great producers around me, which an artist needs.

Steven Starks, Jr. helped Cold World become the best possible project it could be visually because of his producing talent, his eye for detail and commitment to doing it right, even if that took tireless fine-tuning and time.

I appreciate my producers because I spend most of my time alone in the greenhouse of my mind, and seeds need care, water and sunlight to grow.

Thank you and love you. My plants wouldn’t be the same without you.

MY EIGHTH BOOK WILL BE HERE SOON.

I’m sorry I can’t be… PERFECT.

April 25th, 2022

It turns out I’m not perfect.

It’s my birthday week, so this is usually the time of year I remind people that if they want to send a free gift, leaving a review (or six, I have a lot of books) on a site like Amazon is a big deal to me.

This feels especially urgent because, last week, I received my first-ever not-5-star rating on Amazon.

Deep breaths. The Weirdos got a 3-star rating (from a coward who didn’t even leave a written review, so how am I supposed to dwell on all the mediocre things they think about me for months on end?).

I know. I’m in absolute shock, too.

After I spent a few hours figuring out how I was going to end my writing career, I took a step back from the ledge and had to admit something difficult:

I’m just not for everyone

And that’s okay.

But, if I am for you, you should let other people like you know that I exist and this is what I do.

So tl;dr, I’m fine, I’ll probably keep writing, it’s my birthday on Sunday, go say nice things about my books for free.

All my love on this seemingly dreary but potentially cheery Monday.

Cold World Release Party!

April 23rd, 2022

I have percolated news to share!

On June 4th, I’ll be having my Cold World release party at none other than the premiere coffee company in Faribault, Mighty Fine Coffee!

Two things you need to know about Mighty Fine:

1. Their coffee is jaw-droppingly good (and I’m not only saying that because I’m three cups in). Their knowledge and love for coffee is vast and intimate, and it was an absolute joy to chat with them this morning about not only their own beans, but the vibrant history of coffee and its place in human civilization.

2. I was immensely impressed by their strong stance on the importance of community, and their commitment to strengthening Faribault’s. I don’t care how cheesy or corny it sounds (obvs, you’ve read my writing before), but it was downright inspiring to hear them talk about ways they’re trying to make their corner of the world a better place.

I couldn’t be more humbled and thrilled to be able to share space with them for an afternoon.

And I hope I’ll see you there soon!

Event:

Cold World Release Party

Saturday, June 4th

1:30 pm to 3:30 pm

Downtown Faribault, Minnesota

P.S. Here’s a link to the Facebook event page.

Interlude Magnitude

April 22nd, 2022

If I had to describe my relationship with music with an outdated Facebook descriptor, it would be complicated.

Some of that stems from the time in my life when I used to make it, which I consider a failure on a number of levels; some of it is rooted in having parents who couldn’t hear it, which gave me guilt about it, and means I lacked a traditional, generational connection to it.

Regardless, music means a lot to me, and it’s a big part of my life.

And that means it has the power to create terribly emotional moments and stir shit up in me that I didn’t know was unsettled.

Tessa Violet made a moment like that tonight.

After a few songs at the Varsity Theater this evening (including one dedicated to me, an alcoholic), she shared that she was having a bad day.

It was a casually honest comment, but it turned the song she sang next, Interlude III, into something I will never forget.

The lyrics spoke exactly to how I’ve been feeling lately, and the way she felt them and gave them to us brought me to more tears than the last episode of This Is Us.

I needed it.

I hope she knows how much it meant.

Here’s the words, and I recommend looking up the song if you dig them.

I woke up today, knowing no one really knows me

Don’t know what to say

All I know is that I’m lonely

But I don’t fuck around

I remove you with a cleft

But now I’ve put you down, I’m afraid I’ve nothing left

God, I want a touch of something new

Something I can keep

All I know is everything I do don’t bare me no relief

Smile button on

I bought it off the shelf

And I’ve been telling all my friends I’ve just been working on myself

Wish that I could learn to trust someone would want to put me first

But I can’t deign to hope while I’m bracing for the worst

God, I want a touch of something new

Something I can keep

All I know is everything I do don’t bare me no relief

God, I want a piece of something new

Something I can hold

All I know is holding back won’t help me learn to let it go

I woke up today, knowing no one really knows me

Don’t know what to say

All I know is that I’m lonely