creative writing – Jake W. Powell

Thoughts on Living a Long Life

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care if I live a long life so long as it was a “meaningful” or “productive” one. The survival instinct is strong. I want to live as long as I am able to because I value my life, I don’t want to sadden my friends and family, and I enjoy life. And even if life were miserable and burdensome, I would still want to live on, if not for my own sake, then for the sake of others.

And yet, the issue is more complex than that, because I also believe that better a short and healthy life than a long and poor one. To live 90 years and have half those years be spent in perpetual sickness brought on by poor life choices or chronic illness would be a terrible thing. Would I rather I spent my days in and out of the hospital like a revolving door?

It’s easy to be glib with phrases like “I would rather die” when battered by life, but the reality is that the vast majority of humanity wants to keep living regardless of quality of life. Life in and of itself matters.

To the extent upon which it depends on my choices, I want to live a long life. I want to live healthily and happily. And ultimately, I want to live, period. In suffering and in happiness, I want to live.

Life is a chain reaction. Our lives create ripples that touch others and, to perhaps an even greater degree, so do our deaths. Life is lived not only for myself, but for those around me. Even strangers are affected by my life, and mine by theirs. Not something to take lightly.

Ultimately, the concept of a long life is one of ups and downs, struggles and victories, joys and sorrows. Life is meant to be lived, for however long we are on this Earth.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Working on Book #3: Drafts and Long Slogs

Almost done with the second draft of my latest book. I promised myself that I would finish this draft before the end of the year, and if all goes well and I’m still standing, that looks to be the case.

What a journey it’s been already. This book has been much harder to write than my previous work. For one, it’s my first proper novel. It’s not an anthology of short stories united by a common thread like my first two publications. This is one continuous narrative. Exciting! And challenging. Technically, this isn’t my first novel, but that’s only if I count the one I wrote in college that will never see the light of day. Which I’m not.

The first draft was pretty rough. I thought I knew what I was on about when I started, but quickly – very quickly – I realized that I had little direction or clarity for what I wanted the story to be. I had an outline, and I knew the general gist of the tale I wanted to tell, but I hadn’t reflected enough on the details. I wasn’t prepared. And, oh, boy, did that make draft #1 a slog.

But the great thing about drafting is that rewrites can really clear the air. I have more focus now that I’ve had the chance to go over my mistakes and fix them, not to mention coming up with new and better ideas and trimming the fat that doesn’t need to be there. The ideal is that every draft makes the story a little better. I feel that that’s the case with this one.

That being said, I still have a long way to go. Two drafts isn’t enough for a novel, not for me, anyway. So, I’ll need to keep my sleeves rolled up and motor on.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Talkin’ About Pets

What is good about having a pet.

I like animals. I especially like dogs and cats. I used to be more of a dog person, but exposure to cats has gradually drawn me into the position of “likes both equally.” Pets are loyal, don’t judge, don’t criticize, and if they’re furry, are good for hugs and cuddles. A well-trained pet is a very good friend.

I used to have a pet of my own when I was a kid, a rabbit named Timmy. But that was a long time ago, and as I got older, I realized something.

I liked having a pet, but I like other people’s pets even more.

It’s a bit selfish. I visit friends and see their dogs or cats, and after hanging out, can go home where I don’t have to worry about feeding a pet, cleaning them, taking them in for medical checkups or otherwise dealing with the responsibilities of actually having to raise an animal. It’s kind of like having grandchildren or nieces and nephews. You visit for the day, have fun with them, then leave.

Well-behaved pets are friendly and loveable. I just happen to love them when they’re someone else’s responsibility. Oh, well.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

To Be Childlike, Not Childish

What does it mean to be a kid at heart?

Have you ever met someone who was not only physically old, but acted old? “Woe is me, I’m so aged. I can’t do anything anymore, and I must spend my days lamenting my remaining existence.” They’re not exactly fun to be around.

They’re kind of like Charlie’s parents from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, having given up and lying in bed all day.

Of course, then Grandpa Joe actually stands up, and this happens.

Being a kid at heart means never losing the spark of hope, creativity and optimism that permeates childhood. Everything is new, everything is exciting, and everything is worth running towards.

To be childlike, not childish. Anyone of any age can be childish. That’s the dark side of childhood: the whining, the screaming, the self-pity, the selfish delusion that everything exists to serve and coddle you.

To be childlike, though, encompasses the positives of childhood: an enjoyment of life, able to see the good and the fun in it, to charge into any situation and give it your all while laughing and smiling. Honest laughter. Sincere smiles. That strange concept of unironic, sarcasm-free fun that we seem to lose as adults. Adults like to analyze their existence. Kids just are.

In short, to be a kid at heart means to sincerely enjoy life, with all its ups and downs. To live life and embrace its challenges, its triumphs and all the people in it. To not lie in bed all day, but get out and breathe the fresh air.

Even those who have been hampered by age and injury can soak in the sun, if they so choose, rather than grumbling in the dark.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

I Don’t Want to Go to the Moon. There’s Nothing to Do There.

How much would you pay to go to the moon?

Not gonna lie, I don’t want to go to the moon. Which means I would save money, I suppose.

Why go to the moon? Because it’s there? Well, plenty have gone to the moon, and it’s a monumental achievement, make no mistake, but I have no interest in leaving Earth’s atmosphere. There’s still so much to do here, so much to see, so much to explore. Earth is a big place. You might think of it as a tiny speck in the cosmos, but if so, then what a speck! Billions of people, millions of cities, and swathes of forests, plains, mountains, jungles, lakes, oceans, rivers, islands, deserts, glaciers, and tundra.

What’s on the moon? Dust. A lot of dust. Dunes. Craters. A really lovely view of Earth, that’s true enough. But going to the moon simply because it isn’t Earth isn’t the most compelling of reasons. I like Earth. I want to see more of it. There’s more to do here than on the Moon.

What if I did decide to take a moon trip? I would pay an astronomical sum to see some astronomy. I’d take a rocket up to the big grey ball in the sky, fly around it and … What? There’s nothing on the moon! What’s the point of traveling all that way if there’s nothing to do at the end of the trip?

Yeah, I don’t want to go the moon. I couldn’t afford it anyway.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

The Moment I Knew I Had Grown Up Whether I Wanted to or Not

When was the first time you really felt like a grown-up?

Growing up is a tough thing. We don’t leave childhood behind. It simply skips away, leaving us behind. And we find ourselves in the world of grown-ups. We certainly do gain quite a few things as adults, though: Responsibilities, duties, jobs, bills …

But at what point does it hit home that we’ve grown up? Is it a slow, dawning realization, or a thunderbolt to the head?

I first felt the pangs of adulthood when I moved to college. I had never lived apart from my parents before. Well, there was that one week in summer school, but that didn’t really count. Now, I was in the car with my parents going to a campus miles away from home and with the full knowledge that I wouldn’t be coming back with them.

The moment I made that realization was the moment that I knew things were Different™. There was no going back to childhood ways. I was an adult. I would be living as an adult. That made me a little excited, a lot nervous, and very, very giddy.

You ever have that dream where you’re in freefall? And your whole body tingles with such severe giddiness that you feel like it will overwhelm you? That’s how I felt when I arrived at my college. I was falling, falling, falling, all the way down. The only thing keeping me from curling up into a ball of panic was the certainty that the fall would end with me hitting the ground standing upright. Everything was in order, my room was rented, my classes were scheduled, and my parents were still just a phone call away. I wasn’t going to fall forever.

And so I grew up. No more childhood games, just the memories of them. Big adult games, like Studying for the Test, Learning to Budget and Managing My Own Bedtime. Adulthood was upon me.

Of course, once I graduated and entered the Real World, I realized that college wasn’t a very grown-up place after all, but that’s a story for another time.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

What Matters Most: Establishing A Story’s Stakes

In every story, there are stakes. Something may be lost, something may be gained. The story’s conflict means something. Without stakes, without the risk of failure, a story isn’t very interesting. Who cares if the One Ring is destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom if Sauron isn’t a threat? Who cares about the Galactic Empire if they’re a paper tiger who can’t even threaten one planet?

You need to establish the stakes early on. That is to say, you need to establish what will happen if the heroes lose: Sauron conquers Middle Earth and reduces everyone to slavery. The Galactic Empire uses the Death Star to destroy any planet that opposes it. The heroes’ actions must matter.

Of course, not all stories have such a grand scope. To Kill a Mockingbird doesn’t deal with world-rattling threats, but Atticus Finch is struggling to prove an innocent man didn’t commit the crime he is accused of. The Grapes of Wrath centers around a family trying to establish a new life in California and not fall apart in the process. These are more personal stakes, but no less important.

That’s another thing about establishing stakes. They must be appropriate to the story. Personally, I think that, first and foremost, the stakes must be appropriate to the protagonist. We are reading about a character, and what matters to them must matter to us. If the stake is nothing more than Jim trying to get his kite into the air, then, by golly, that’s what the reader should care about, too.

Sometimes the stakes in a story increase. Maybe Jim gets drafted into World War II. Well, that’s a major shift. What’s at stake now? Survival? Capturing the enemy base? Maybe. But what is most appropriate is what directly affects Jim’s personal journey. It’s not just about fighting the enemy, any more than it was about flying the kite. It’s about Jim’s character growth.

It was never about getting the kite into the air. It’s not about fighting the war, not really. Those are the circumstances, but the story is about Jim learning to persevere and attain self-confidence. He never really felt that he was capable of getting that kite in the air. He feels that he can’t contribute to the war. The kite and the war represent the same thing: obstacles to Jim’s goal of becoming a confident, mature adult.

Okay, I’ll leave it up to one of you out there to write that story.

Writers don’t play hopscotch with the stakes. Even when they are raised to something more serious, they still form a core that drives the narrative. Every new stake is connected to the protagonist’s central conflict, each one a facet of his or her inner struggle.

It’s not about building up the biggest, most dire conflict imaginable: “The world will end! The evil empire will rule! The plague will kill us all!” It’s about character. It’s about what matters most to the protagonist.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Now” is Not “Forever”

What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever received?

“This too shall pass.”

Whenever you are feeling down, whenever you feel discouraged, whenever you’re stuck taking out the trash or behind a desk at work, or otherwise feel that time has shrunk to a single point that is infinite and eternal and will never, ever get better …

“This too shall pass.”

This is no call to passivity or apathy. This is a call to endure and push forward. Now is not forever. The current situation is not the whole of the future. Persevere. Get the dishes done. Finish your homework. Drive through after-work traffic. There is an endpoint. There is not merely a light at the end of the tunnel – the tunnel itself does indeed have an end.

“This too shall pass.”

There is hope in life. Even the most dire, the most awful, the most horrific and seemingly apocalyptic of times will eventually pass and become a distant memory. You need not fear that what you’re suffering through now will always be there. And most of all, this means that we do need to live in despair. Work through the hard times, build perseverance, and from that perseverance comes character, and from that character comes hope. Because this – yes, THIS, right now – will pass soon enough.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Is There Such a Thing as Life Without Music?

What would your life be like without music?

Life without music would be insufferably boring. And, I think, it would be impossible to live life without it.

Not because we would drop dead from lack of music or lose all motivation and will, but because humans must make music. We feel rhythm and melody in everything. Nature sings: birds, wind, waves, thunder and lightning. Small wonder that man found ways to make musical sounds of his own.

For me, personally, music is a means of relaxation and inspiration. Relaxation from stress and worries, and inspiration for my imagination and writing. I have no particular taste in music; all genres are fair game. I just enjoy music as a means of processing ideas and, perhaps, of hyping myself up for a project.

Music also helps keep me sane when I’m mired in boredom or doing repetitive chores. Music is very important in my life, and I would be lesser for its absence. I think most people would.

And it’s impossible to avoid it. Music runs through my head during the day with or without headphones. It’s always there, drawn from an archive of songs and melodies. We are musical beings. People need music. I certainly do.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

What I Feel Isn’t Always What I Need

Share a lesson you wish you had learned earlier in life.

I wish I had learned much earlier in life that how I feel about something doesn’t change the need to do it. I wish that I had learned, a long time ago, that I shouldn’t only write when I feel inspired, that I only need to exercise when I feel good, and, in short, I should only do anything when I am “up to it.” Work still needs to be done regardless of my feelings on the matter, and even hobbies and joys can feel awfully dull sometimes.

I wish I better understood ten or twenty years ago that emotions shouldn’t dictate my actions, either to motivate me or restrain me. Emotion is separate from will. The will to do something is a conscious effort. Acting on passion is impulsive, and the burst of energy it gives is fleeting. The will to complete a task requires patience and quiet diligence.

Perhaps this seems obvious to you, and I’m just pointing out a fact that is clear as day. But I didn’t fully understand this when I was younger. I do now, and it has helped me better understand both myself and how life works.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

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