New Song: “The Wrong Side”

I’m stuck here on the wrong side of the Earth,
Far away from all that I love true.
I’m in Tokyo or Seoul, Bangkok or Saigon,
But I’d rather be home languishing with you.

I know we’ve had our disagreements, dear.
But now I’m in an unfamiliar place.
I’m in boats, hotels and trains, houses, shacks and planes.
And sometimes you know I miss your angry face.

Oh, what a horrible life!
We always have such poisonous things to say.
Oh, what a beautiful night!
Thinking back I wonder why I ever walked away.

I’ve found some ways to occupy my time.
I try to stay distracted with the new.
I have wandered stranger streets, tried every kind of sweet,
But still I can’t forget the taste of you.

What’s it like when you don’t see me there?
Heard you’ve been trying to move along.
You’ve got boys and girls for miles, to keep you for awhile,
But do you miss me when you lay alone?

Oh, what a horrible life!
We always have such poisonous things to say.
Oh, what a beautiful night!
Now I just remember,
You didn’t ask me to stay.

I’m stuck here on the wrong side of the Earth.
What we had may be forever gone.
So I’ll pine away the nights, in these city lights,
But I know that you will never call me home.

New Song: “No Way Home”

I know it’s not exactly novel writing, but I’m trying to put together my EP, “The Owl,” this year. This is the first song.

Ain’t no way now to come back home.
Everything that I know is gone.
I’ll never see those familiar stones.
Ain’t no way now to come back home.

Left the land for a distant shore,
And they won’t see me forevermore.
All I’ll know is toil and war.
Left the land for a distant shore.

I want to fly in the clouds above.
I want to see my own true love,
But she won’t know me, stained with blood.
I want to fly in the clouds above.

Ain’t no way now to come back home.
I’ve fallen into the great unknown.
Maybe that’s where they’ll bury my bones.
Ain’t no way now to come back home.

I’m a Magical Writer (and You’re Not)

Disclaimer: Maybe I just don’t get it, and I’m willing to accept that.

“I’ve got the best job in the world. I craft universes. I create people and they tell me what they want. I’m a storyteller. I’m the bard in our global village.”

Sound familiar? You’ve probably heard it a dozen times, perhaps from some of your favorite storytellers/bards/creators/gods. I’m going to be straight with you folks here: I really dislike the spiritualization of writing.

Continue reading I’m a Magical Writer (and You’re Not)

How to Plan a Writing Retreat, Part 3: Food

If you’re going to plan a writing retreat, you’ve got to get rid of the distractions.One of the biggest obstacles to good writing is that pesky need to eat. Here, our Head Chef (my incredibly talented wife, Renée White), enlightens you about the challenges faced by the cooks.

Continue reading How to Plan a Writing Retreat, Part 3: Food

How to Plan a Writing Retreat, Part 2: The Schedule

So you’ve got your writers’ retreat going, but what do you do from there? Without a structure, the whole thing will deteriorate into drinking and board games. Yes, I know you’re all a bunch of nerds.

This post is all about supporting the goals listed in my first article. If you haven’t read it, I suggest you take a few minutes and head that way. If you’re ready to move onto the next topic, learn about the food requirements. Continue reading How to Plan a Writing Retreat, Part 2: The Schedule

How to Plan a Writing Retreat, Part 1: Goals and Rules

So you’d like to plan a writing retreat. Good, because an effective retreat is like Disneyland with no lines, unlimited food, no screaming kids and only interesting people. Oh, and you don’t have to go outside.

But you’re going to need some goals. Let me help you with that. Continue reading How to Plan a Writing Retreat, Part 1: Goals and Rules

I’m scared of blowing it.

When I was in middle school, I didn’t get along with my classmates. I was miserable, but relatively smart. I was bullied. I got in fights sometimes. I don’t know anyone who did well in middle school, but I really sucked.

Then, I learned about the math and science program at a boarding school in Birmingham. I studied, applied and got in, after a grueling set of exams and interviews. I was just so happy to be away from the horrible place I’d been living. I’d say I burned all of my bridges before I moved away, but I didn’t have any.

Once at the boarding school, however, I pissed away all the good things that had been given to me, and I failed out. Okay, so I withdrew before I could fail out, but that’s a technicality. Now, whenever I meet a scientist, I think, “I could’ve been one of you, if I wasn’t so lazy in high school.” I used to feel compelled to prove myself. Continue reading I’m scared of blowing it.