If It Doesn’t Help, It Hinders

Following a session on social media at last week’s retreat at work, I decided today to re-open a Twitter account. Approximately five minutes ago, I closed it again.

I had been reading (for work) that classic of business management literature Good To Great, navigating two or three chapters devoted to the importance of an organization identifying that one thing at which they reasonably, realistically become the best, and then, with equal discipline, eliminating all those opportunities and activities, however valuable, that distract from that one thing.

It through me into a personal tailspin, and I posted a question to Facebook: “at am I going to stop doing that is keeping me from writing fiction?”

Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

  • Twitter (completely re-eliminated), as well as much of my daily Facebook, blog, and general internet surfing (I’m thinking 30 minutes maximum across all platforms, and I have a timer. I post things quickly…but then  I let myself get sucked in.).
  • My fledgling sourdough baking habit. Brewing takes precedence; it is becoming a communal activity with friends and fellow parishioners.
  • Leisurely mornings,  snooze alarms, and any notion I can afford to sleep past 6 a.m.
  • New volunteer commitments, and any old ones I can reasonably abandon.

I also need to make the most of my work hours, to get my 40 hours in each week in as close to 40 hours as possible. I need to devote at least two hours a day to creative writing and the reading and research that will support it. And of course, regular prayer and exercise will help me stay the course, but that takes time, too. I need to cultivate these habits before the new wee one arrives in December. Wish me luck!

Book Break: Starship Troopers

Years ago, I read Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land. I remember only a handful of details about the book — the concept of grokking, the story in broad strokes, the religious aspects — and I remember realizing, at the end, that I had read my first mature science fiction book. Not mature in the Rated M sense (which actually is quite immature, when you think about it) — although the book has its moments and is not for kids — but mature in the sense that it wasn’t a space adventure with rocket-ships, robots, and ray-guns.

Now, some of you know that my middle-school son aspires to the Naval Academy, followed by the Marine Corps. Awhile back I ran across a supposed “required reading” list for our military academies, and nestled among The U.S. Constitution and The Art of War was a surprise title I knew only from a movie preview: Starship Troopers. Thinking it might be a sci-fi book to interest Brendan, I googled it; seeing it was written by Heinlein, I thought I’d better check it out first. We borrowed it from the local library, I skimmed it thoroughly for adult content, then let Brendan have a go.

He devoured it, though he struggled with the rapid fire dialogue and military jargon. I finished it last night, and again discovered that I read a mature science fiction novel.

Heinlein supposedly caught a lot of flack for an overtly pro-military (and some say fascist and species-ist) book. I found it a very compelling read, especially considering it was written in 1959. It’s set in the future, and tells the story about a teenager who volunteers to join the military against his parents’ wishes, mostly because his buddy (and a pretty girl they both know) is doing it. The world has changed since the 20th Century — Earth is part of an interplanetary federation, and ruled as a democracy of sorts…except that only those who have served a full term in the military can vote. Apparently in the late 20th century, things on Earth went downhill: parents ceased disciplining children and were no longer considered responsible for the actions of their children; children, as a result, looked to their peers for security and guidance, joining gangs and engaging in selfish (and ultimately criminal) activities. The criminal justice system ceased holding criminals reasonable beyond a fairly comfortable period of isolation with other criminals, followed by early release and frequent re-incarceration. And citizens young and old became so self-involved that they voted only in their narrow self-interests, for policies that padded their pocketbooks, kept them comfortable, or made them feel good about themselves. Vision, long-term impact, and responsibility to others fell by the wayside…

I’m elaborating a bit. Can you tell the book struck a nerve?

The seductive thing about Starship Troopers is that Heinlein seems to have glimpsed the future, and he paints a picture of the aftermath that is un-American in so many ways and yet makes me shake my graying head in agreement that yes, that’s exactly the problem. Only veterans can be entrusted with vote because only they have shown by their actions — by their service and sacrifice — that they will put the long-term interests of the nation and the public good ahead of their own interests, or even their own lives…un-American, but almost makes sense…parents of juvenile offenders are held partly responsible for the crimes of their progeny and share in the flogging…un-American and brutal, but who hasn’t read a news story and said, “They oughta lock up the parents, instead!”

I recommend the book as a good, quick, and thought-provoking read. I can’t recommend the movie, one, because I haven’t seen it, and two, Denise Richards. (Seriously? She’s the wrong kind of of “cute girl” and Carmen was mostly an emotional presence in the book, not a physical one.) Gonna have to read more Heinlein (and maybe re-read Stranger in a Strange Land). Maybe you should, too.

Summer Vacation, Day 78: On Writing

Blogger’s Note: I’m cheating a bit on this one, because technically it’s taken almost entirely from a comment I left on a post in Jacqui’s Room entitled “A Room of One’s Own.”

I have no space of my own. To get in the mood, I tell the kids I need to write; set up a card table in the bedroom; get Trevor a drink and ask him why he never wants anything to do with me until I need to write; fire up my laptop; ask Jodi if she’ll remind the kids that when Puck barks, it means he wants to come in; pull up a chair; calmly remind the kids I need to write; answer a few emails; write a lame Facebook status update; visit Jacqui’s Room and Hubba’s House (see Friends and Good People, at right) for half an hour; bark at the kids that, although I’ve yet to write anything, I am write-ING, and they need to play downstairs or outside if they are going to be loud; complain to myself that it’s too quiet; build a custom playlist for the day’s fiction; open a beer; and press play. Later I counteract the beer with a cup of green tea or black coffee.

Music is critical. For the kung-fu screenplay, it was indie hip-hop (like current local fave Doomtree) and traditional Chinese music on shuffle. For the fantasy novel, country/folky/bluesy stuff seems to work – She & Him, Neko Case, Carla Bruni (yes, the supermodel first lady of France sings), etc. …

Summer Vacation, Day 68: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (Belated)

On Monday, Emma got sick to her stomach, Gabe got stung by a wasp twice in the neck, I wrote several more pages of a novel, Brendan battled his cousins on the Wii, and Trevor approached Jodi out of the blue to admit, “Mommy? Sometimes I don’t listen to you …”

We still don’t know for sure what that was about.

Headed to Mom and Dad’s today to see the horses, mules and longhorns, then from there to the lake and campground. Probably won’t blog again ’til Thursday at the earliest. Take care out there.