Click-Bait

CLICK-BAIT

Begin:

 

Them: “First of all, We need to know what the fuck you’ve been doing. You’re a big liar, so don’t bullshit us!”

Me: “What do you mean? I’ve been writing?”

Them: “That was two questions.”

Me: “Well, yeah. What do you expect?”

Them: “We expect an answer to our initial question. We repeat: What the fuck have you been doing?”

Me: “Well, I could say it’s none of your goddamn fucking business. Or, I could say you look funny in your millennial clothes. Or, I could ignore you all and not let you know what the fuck I’ve been doing. However, what is the second thing you want to know?”

Them: “What the fuck do you mean?”

Me: “You said ‘first of all,’ if I’m not mistaken.”

Them: “Oh. Yeah. BUT YOU STILL HAVEN’T ANSWERED OUR FIRST QUESTION!”

Me: “Jesus fuckin Christ – stop yelling!”

Them: “We have a right to know. We as the #WritingCommunity on Twitter DEMAND ANSWERS of all following lackeys! We’re supposed to be a ‘tight-knit’ community of like minded #writers soothing each other into a false sense of non-writer’s block excitement and super #writing accomplishments, so as to bolster each of us toward the ‘powers-that-be’ and ‘gate-keepers’ of traditional publishing.”

Me: “Now who’s lying? You know you can self-publish. You know you can flash-fiction. You know you can create whatever you want to get your words out there, now that the Internet is in control of world powers of writing industries you’re a subset of. It even controls the new designs and methodologies of Ancient Publishing Castles! AND, there’s not much anyone can do about it. Your only hope – ‘OBI-WON-KENOBI’ – is to hope you’re read by a William Randolph Hearst wannabee, making it in the Trad-Pub field and hope they’ll puff you like Billy Graham, to grand-slam super-stardom on the NYTimes best seller’s list!”

Them: “Now wait a cotton-picking minute. You’re deflecting like Trump. You’re starting a war that may destroy everything we’ve as an electronic #writingcommunity have fought for, up until this minute. AND, you still haven’t answered our initial question. You are right though, the #writingcommunity demands an answer.”

Me: “I object to that racist remark about cotton and picking.”

Them: “OH – YOU’RE SO FRUSTRATING! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN WRITING!!!!”

Me: “OK, ok. Calm down. I’ll let you know. But you really didn’t ask that question.”

Them: “Finally. Thank you.”

Me: “Writing?”

Them: “FUCKIN CHRIST!”

Me: “Now, now. You asked.”

Them: “THAT WAS A QUESTION!”

Me: “Yes it was. You see, I’m not sure. I can’t be writing if I think I have writer’s block. And, I can’t be thinking I have writer’s block if I’m writing this. And, it is very hard do define ‘Writer’s-Block.’ Have you ever really thought about it long and hard? Have you ever really wondered if maybe it’s all about life getting in the way?  I think I’ve had ‘Life-Block’ nagging me for all of my 67 years on this blue orb in space – about my writing.

For instance, back in 1956-7 I had my first open-heart surgery and experienced the worst physical pain a child could ever deal with. I suffered almost dying through suffocation after, in post-op, by contracting pneumonia. It lead to a severe slow grade-school education embroiled in a PTSD, envied and rivaled by Vietnam Vets. However, I did get published while in 3rd grade.

I’m not sure why that teacher put me in command of the whole class and its public writing adventure, but she must have seen fit to make me the ‘recording secretary’ in the hierarchy of PS 29’s Class 3-2. I will state for the record – the whole class edited my work. It’s where I learned nothing you write is your own – once you write it. It gets mashed by everyone. That’s ok. A writer has to learn that. We’re not alone on this earth.

Them: “Goddamn it. You’re deflecting again.”

Me: “And then my sophomore high-school English teacher told me I had something. She was a leading teacher in expository writing. Apparently, she couldn’t figure out how anyone living in Northwood, New Hampshire could be a class A circumlocution writer.”

Them: “Now what the fuck are you talking about?”

Me: “Exactly. And, well, by the time I graduated bottom of my class in high-school, the last thing I wanted to do was write or even go to college. I couldn’t spall. And I thanked the gods on mount Olympus I was 4-F.

My ticket out of Vietnam.”

Them: “So, are you saying you are writing or not? And if so, what about our second question?”

Me: “I’ve stated in the near past, I’m dealing with a fictional book in the Crime-Drama/Sci-Fi genre and also writing a memoir.”

Them: “Finally! An answer!”

Me: “Not much of an answer is it.”

Them: “Well, at least is was something.”

Me: “So, that’s it? That’s all you want to know?”

Them: “Tell us more about ‘Life-Block’ getting in the way and why you’re not published since 3rd grade.

Me: “Most of it’s none of your business. Or, you could just use the Internet to find out all the Fake news about me. There’s a gold mine of ridiculous information about me written by AKA dudes that faked their way onto the Internet since the beginning of the Internet. But, I digress.”

Them: “When did you start your memoir?”

Me: “About 19 years ago.”

Them: “Is it done?”

Me: “No. I’m still alive and I only got up to the 7th grade.”

Them: “Have you ever queried?”

Me: “Yes.”

Them: “To who? When?”

Me: “Bantam Books. The publisher wrote a nice note and gave feed-back. I was shocked. But ‘life-block’ got in the way again.”

Them: “What happened?”

Me: “Got married, had to work and had seven kids before I realized why that was happening.”

Them: “So, you’re a horny dude?”

Me: “Um. Thank you. Now you’re digressing.”

Them: “So, you never went to college?”

Me: “I dropped out in 1972. But not before my Creative-Writing Professor told me outside class that I should write. I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about, after seeing nothing but red marks on all my essays. I thought it had to do with my extensive use of marijuana. {and maybe his} Thus, I went on to make money in NYC.”

Them: “In writing?”

Me: “Fuck no. There’s no money in it. Shooting for Trad-Pub is the lottery. In construction.”

Them: “So why are you writing now? Why are you writing a memoir? Why are you writing a Sci-Fi/Crime drama novel?”

Me: “It takes the ‘Life-Block’ pain away that kept me from writing and helps me annoy people that need to be annoyed.”

Them: “Hmmm… We sure know about being annoyed by you.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Them: “Fucking Christ.”

Me: “Yeah. I know. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

 

…To Be Continued…

Posted in Abstract Crazy Writing, Creative, Fake Research, Fiction, Historical Fiction, History, Imaginative Breaking News, Member Communication, Memoir, Opinion, R rating, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Øle’s Updated Reading List

ØLE’S READING LIST 2015-2019 reading list:

[It all started with Dick and Jane]

CURRENTLY READING:

THE GOD FATHER – MARIO PUZO (2nd time – 1st 1970)

~~~

Books in Queue For Reading:

THE LAST GODFATHER – SIMON CRITTLE

DOUBLE CROSS: THE EXPLOSIVE INSIDE STORY OF THE MOBSTER WHO CONTROLLED AMERICA – SAM AND CHUCK GIANCANA WITHE BETTINA GIANCANA

JFK – KILLIGEN – OBAMA & THE NEW WORLD ORDER – DAN MCQUADE

~~~

Books Recently Read:

WISE GUY: 25TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION – NICHOLAS PILEGGI

THE BIG HEIST: THE REAL STORY OF THE LUFTHANSA HEIST, THE MAFIA AND MURDER – ANTHONY M. DESTEFANO

THE LUFTHANSA HEIST – Henry Hill and Daniel Simone

INSIDE THE LUFTHANSA HEIST **** Kerry Whalen

TEMPTED TO STAY – KRYST ASHLY

THE POISON PATRIARCH: HOW THE BETRAYALS OF JOSEPH P. KENNEDY CAUSED THE ASSASSINATION OF JFK – MARK SHAW

THE ELEMENTS OF STYLE * William Strunk Jr. (a refresher)

THE LIARS’CLUB ***** Mary Karr

A MOVEABLE FEAST ***** Ernest Hemingway

ON WRITING ***** A Memoir Of The Craft – Stephen King

OLD FRIEND FROM FAR AWAY ***** Natalie Goldberg

WRITING DOWN THE BONES ***** Natalie Goldberg

How to become a published Author **** Mark W. Shaw

The Reporter Who Knew Too Much ***** Mark William Shaw

The Last Days of Marilyn Monroe **** Donald H. Wolfe

The STRANGER IN THE WOODS: The Extraordinary Story of the last True Hermit. **** Michael Finkel

The FIGHTS on the LITTLE HORN – 50 Years of Research into Custer’s Last Stand. *** by Gordon Harper

***** WOODEN LEG – A Warrior Who Fought Custer ***** (the culture of Native Americans and their memory of the battle)

Reasonable Doubt – A shocking Story of Lust and Murder in the American Heartland – by Steve Vogel ****

The Black Hawk War – Frank Stevens **

***** Lincoln’s Last Trial – by Dan Abrams ***** (great insight into Lincoln’s abilities as a defense lawyer)

Chappaquiddick: Power, Privilege, and the Ted… – by Leo Damore ***

The Shinning – by Stephen King ****

Dr. Sleep (sequel to the Shinning) – by Stephen King ****

The Truth about the Titanic – by Archibald Gracie ***

The President is Missing, a novel – by James Patterson and Bill Clinton ***

God Code: Unlocking Divine messages Hidden… by Timothy P. Smith **** (see the youtube videos to see why I was interested)

2nd time reading – The Temple: Its Ministry and Services as they… by Alfred Edersheim * (tough 19th century style reading)

The Lost Book of Moses: The Hunt for the Word… by Chanan Tigay *****

Time Travel MEGAPACK: 26 Modern and … by Edward M. Lerner ***

2 time reading – Battle Cry – by Leon Uris ***

Satan’s Circus: Murder, Vice, Police Corruption… by Mike Dash ***

When I Fell From the Sky – by Juliane Diller (Koepcke) ***** – true story

Time and Again (Time series – Book 1) – By Jack Finney ***** – excellent time travel book

Chasing the Ripper (Kindle Single) – by Patricia Cornwell ****

Treadmill to Oblivion: My Days in Radio – by Fred Allan *** – semi funny from the old days

In the Year 2889 – by Jules Vern ***

The Prey (Prey Trilogy) – by Tom Isbell  **

The Capture (Prey Trilogy) – by Tom Isbell **

The Curious Case of the Copper Corpse: A Flav… – by Alan Bradley **

The Old Man and the Sea – by Ernest Hemingway **** – Hemingway at his best

The Rainbow Comes and Goes: A Mother and.. – by Anderson Cooper **** – found it very interesting

 

~~~

FUTURE BOOKS IN THOUGHT:

THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WINTER – William Winter – 1909

CASINO ROYALE

FEBRUARY: SELECTED POETRY OF BORIS PASTERNAK

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO

THE BEST OF US: A Memoir – Joyce Maynard

THE ROMANOVS: The Final Chapter – Robert K. Massie

 

CHARLESGATE CONFIDENTIAL – Scott Bon Doviak

The FLIGHT ATTENDANT: A Novel – Chris Bohjalian

LEONARDO DA VINCI – Walter Isaacson

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Today’s Small Discussion on NYC, Music & Writing.

7 am, 3.19.19.

TODAY’S BLURB BROUGHT TO YOU BY: ABBA

~~~

I started my working years during the 1970s.

I worked and flourished in the hustle and bustle of the city that never sleeps – NYC  – and sometimes I’d work through the night when no one was around on empty floors while I blasted the great music of the era.

And one of my early loves kept me company.

“Come… Fly With Me” ~ Alison Steele – the Queen of Midnight Radio -her voice made love to me and kept me going with her radio show. God I loved her voice. Damn. She died in 1995. RIP Alison! You are missed. {sniffles} FUCK CANCER.

~~~

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alison_Steele

I worked daily on a six-foot scaffold, on four wheels and rolled around high-rise office rooms – sans furniture – providing full renovation of tenant ceilings. If you’re in an office in NYC right now, look up. I’m one of the guys that may have installed that ceiling above you. Especially if you’re on a floor that hasn’t been renovated in over forty years or so. {I might have signed my real name above that ceiling – hidden from your view.}

I did not work without music. It was a must. I despised anyone who told me to turn the music off or leave the job-site. I think I may have left a few of those times. They had no right. If they didn’t allow music, I’d bark like a dog for the entire remaining length of the job. WOOF WOOF!

I was nick-named: “Barking Dog,” because I would never cease throwing my voice, sounding exactly like a barking dog (or a pack of dogs) in the distance. I was one helluva ventriloquist and ergo, building tenants had to ask the construction supervisors, to find the dog on the 80th floor and “get it the fuck” out of the building.

They didn’t believe it when they found out it was me. Woof. Fuck you – NO MUSIC?! MY ASS!

I still refuse to work without music and continue that process to this day at home – in the north woods of nowhere – where no one can complain. YES!

Now I write with music of the 70s blaring in the background, where my work-life originally exploded in love, procreation and a practice of my guitar which eventually lead to recording sessions.

Ah. Music. It’s a force of my life. Yours?

And here I’ll leave this short discussion of my past life in NYC during the height of GREAT RECORDED MUSIC.

And – TODAY – I WRITE TO THE MUSIC OF:

ABBA!

{Just imagine me wiggling on my scaffold as I grew into one of the best ceiling specialists, in the city.  – Ah tearful laughing memories – So Mote It BE.}

Posted in History, Memoir, Music, Tribute / Eulogy, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Today’s Quote

“There is no tediousness of solitude to him who has within himself resources of thought and dream, the pleasures and pains of memory, the bliss and the torture of imagination.”

~ William Winter – 1836-1917.

https:/ /en.wikipedia.org/ wiki/ William_Winter_(author)

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I know… I know…

When you’re writing a book it’s hard to post something here.

But I figure, unless I’m published, this blog means nothing.

Back to writing.

~ Øle Ø.

MEANWHILE – here’s a nice song while you wait for my book to be done:

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TODAY’S QUOTE:

 

“Read, read, read. Read everything – trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.”
~~ William Faulkner

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Today’s Short Story

Beginning:

Hi. I’m here. The Sun is out.

Middle:

I’m hot. The Sun is too bright. I feel squishy.

End:

The snow is melting. I am melting. Who would’a thought…

…oh what a world… what a world…

FINI

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