Celebrating Ourselves

Let’s have a party.

Bravery is called for in the post-COVID world. I’m writing a second memoir. As an Author I’ve grappled with the tone of voice of the new book.

Then I decided: to show by celebrating myself that readers have permission to light up the world with your greatness.

I wondered at how Kylie—or is it Kendall—Jenner has 125K Instagram followers.

Then I understood how a superstar could have hundreds of thousands of fans:

A person like Lizzo or Beyonce is not afraid to be themselves and express their feelings by singing songs and speaking out.

They do what a lot of us are afraid to do—flaunt what they’ve got—and we adore them for doing this.

Why can’t you and I revel in ourselves to the people we interact with? Like the Beastie Boys sang we have to “fight for our right” to party as our original selves.

At the end of the day I know I wouldn’t be happy living as a pale imitation copycat of someone else.

Let’s bring ourselves to light.

I’m not a superstar like Kendall. I’m a tiny person with a big mouth who has only 120 followers.

Getting a kick out of blogging because in the end it’s a way to make a positive difference in readers’ lives.

Blogging is a way to bring people together who wouldn’t meet IRL.

Perhaps in my humble words I can give you the courage to Celebrate Yourself.

To be continued.

Feck Perfuction

James Victore the author of this book is a designer who failed at one art school and was kicked out of another.

His work hung in the Museum of Modern Art. He taught at the School of Visual Arts for 20 years.

He bought an apartment in SoHo and a house in the country.

The morale of this story is for everyone–artists and non-artists alike.

James Victore gives readers permission to be weird.

Reading Feck Perfuction gave me a shot in the arm of confidence to dare to be my unusual self.

I recommend you read this short book too.

The morale is in the moral of this story: there’s no one right way to live.

There’s no right time to do something.

The only way to live is to be yourself. The only time to do something is now.

Feck Perfuction is an unlikely font of self-help.

You might be able to check it out of a library like I did.

My thoughts got jangled like a mad wind chime after I read this book.

What Victore has to say is unsettling because he’s throwing down a dare.

Go on–be your glorious Self. There is no one else you have to be.

A Merry and Bright Season to You

gmorning gnight

It can be hard when our loved ones are gone to be in the mood to celebrate.

You can read GMorning GNight to give yourself a pep talk for the year ahead.

Mark my words 2019 will be better.

The graphic above is a photo of the cover of a new poetry book.

It’s well worth buying this book to read over and over.

Lin-Manuel Miranda is the Pulitzer-Prize winning playwright of Hamilton fame.

GMorning GNight: Little Pep Talks for Me & You is a collection of his tweets he’s fired off over the years.

One GMorning and GNight serenade empowered me like nothing else I’ve ever read.

Owing to copyright I can’t rewrite what he published. Only I can tell you this: the idea that each of us is one single self is a myth. Modern psychologists have shifted their thinking. It’s thought that your personality can change over the years.

I’m so envious of Lin-Manuel Miranda that I can’t bring myself to browse his website. After reading the GMorning GNight duet I was afraid to be treated to more of this author’s greatness. Would that I could write something as insightful and empowering as Miranda’s ode to a person’s multiple selves.

Who’s hanging out inside me today? What thoughts are spinning around in there? Where have I been and where am I going?

These are the questions I ask after having read this empowering book.

My goal is to have my own version of a literary career. What Miranda does on the stage I want to do on the page.

I hope in the spring to have good news about the second nonfiction book I’ve written.

Right now I’m going to promote the work of other authors I admire.

Even though Lin-Manuel Miranda is famous he seems like a nice guy.

Do yourself a favor and read GMorning GNight.

It brought me such cheer to read it that I want to pass this on.

Manhattan After Dark

Just Another Night on the Other Side of Town:

The driver took only thirty-five minutes to take me to Avenue A. Two hours early for the literary event I acted as a flaneur walking about the streets around St. Mark’s Place.

Live bands were performing in Tompkins Square Park. I sat on a bench in the park for fifteen minutes. A tall dude decided to sit on the bench right near me when the other benches were empty.

A woman joined him yet didn’t sit down. She circled around talking in front of us. Feared I looked like a turista with the Brooklyn, NY logo tote I carried. My shoes were Missoni Converse.

The secret to surviving in New York City after dark is to act weird. To put on your game face when you’re outside. I’ve figured out that no one will mess with you when your sneakers are Converse.

As I’m sitting on the bench I think: Might it have been unwise to wear a sterling silver necklace out on the street? It was a gift from my mother, she bought it in Mexico in the 1990s.

The tall dude is smoking a blunt next to me. In New York City there’s a new rule: people caught toking marijuana in public aren’t supposed to be arrested. They’re supposed to be let go. That fits with my Green Party mantra that non-violent drug users shouldn’t be sent to jail.

Only it’s not so great when you’re walking down the street and reefer smoke is invading your nostrils everywhere you go. You didn’t sign up to get a contact high just sitting on a park bench minding your business.

The tall dude asks a nearby guy: “Got a cigarette?”

“An American is seventy-five cents.”

The girl is still wandering around in front of us. She can tell I’m not a street person. My pocketbook is next to me on the park bench. She doesn’t try to shake me down, just stands there talking to the tall dude.

It’s a different city than the Manhattan of my youth.

Yet the people are the same walking down the street: wearing an autumn overcoat, or dressed all in black with white sneakers, or carrying a tragicomic backpack.

Fifteen minutes later I get up off the bench and go to my destination.

Yet I will forever remember this scene.

___________________________________________

You want to be a writer? Sit on a park bench and observe people. Keep an open mind. Compose sentences like you’re filming scenes in a movie.

A Million Thanks

Grazie.

A million thanks to everyone who has been buying a copy of Left of the Dial every month.

The royalties cover the cost of a hot chocolate at the local bake shop.

It’s a place with a few tables and a seating area with a blanket bench.

The perfect hole-in-the-wall for having a casual tet-a-tet with a guy you’ve met online.

Or for you and a friend to meet to critique each other’s writing.

One thing I would love is to get more four and five-star reviews on Amazon.

That would be the happiest goal for any author like me who’s here to make a difference not make millions.

My other manuscripts are brewing and percolating: I’m editing and revising a bunch of books I want to publish in the coming years.

More towards early fall I’ve have more details about the career book and the first novel I seek to publish within three years.

My goal in writing Left of the Dial was to uplift and inspire readers that recovery is possible.

The theme of the memoir is: “Enjoy your quirkiness.”

Life is short. Have the macaroons.

Write Where You Are

I’m not a Hipster. I don’t follow trends.

What I write about might not make the bestseller list like James Patterson. It’s called a bestseller list for a reason–those books sell millions of copies.

Yet I’ve always been a Visionary in thinking that you can have your own version of a full and robust life living in recovery.

To this end I’ve formed a business and I’m set to publish a second nonfiction book.

That’s what it’s like to be a writer of left of the dial topics:

You’re not Danielle Steele. You won’t live in a building on Central Park West.

You prefer the hidden streets and neighborhoods that no one else wants to explore.

You toil away every day on your writing. If you’re lucky, there’s no writer’s block.

You have something to tell the world so you say it loud and clear.

You create a blog when the New York Times won’t publish you.

You won’t quit in your goal of championing recovery for everyone.

Here’s the scoop:

The writing life is not for everyone. It’s for those of us with an artist’s temperament.

It helps if you have a head for business too so that you can sell tons of copies of your books.

Having a mission for what you want to accomplish by writing a book is imperative.

My goal is to help mental health peers succeed at going to school and finding and keeping a job they love.

In a perverse way, this would satisfy the Republicans and Conservatives who would like to see that no one uses up “entitlements.”

Yet riddle me this: isn’t the mortgage tax deduction on an income tax form a kind of entitlement?

My goal is to help mental health peers live full and robust lives.

A J.D. is not required to have this kind of life.

Hungry Heart

In 1999 when I was an assistant in a law firm library I told a coworker: “I want to win a Pulitzer.”

She responded: “You have to write a book first.” In a tone that seemed mocking or incredulous that I could do this.

We shall see what happens.

I’ve known ever since I was seven years old that I wanted to be a writer.

Ever since I was only five years old I had been bullied by the neighborhood kids and the kids in school.

Coincidence? I think it’s not a coincidence that I’ve wanted to be a writer ever since I was only seven years old.

Run out and buy this book: Jennifer Weiner’s memoir Hungry Heart.

In it, the New York Times bestselling author boldly asserts that it’s the freaks of the world, the ones from f*cked-up homes, the outcasts, who are destined to become great writers.

Jennifer Weiner was strong enough to row on a crew team at Princeton University.

Yet all through her life before achieving this Ivy League feat the other kids and teens called her fat.

I’m engrossed in Hungry Heart totally. I”m going to continue reading it at the speed of light.

Easily nine years ago I’d go on Jennifer Weiner’s author website. I’ve revisited the website today. Her advice to aspiring authors is some of the greatest advice you’ll ever read for free.

Writers, click your pens and get writing. Those of us who are writers write because we must. We write because to not write we’d have a breakdown of the soul.

I stand in solidarity with Jennifer Weiner. Go on her website and read the articles she’s written for the New York Times on women and body issues.

Years ago–too long ago to count–I logged on to Match.com for about five minutes and quickly logged off.

The featured profile on the homepage of that dating website was that of a guy who wrote in these exact words:

“I won’t date a fat woman.” No kidding he used the word fat.

As soon as I saw that I refused to join Match.com.

That’s interesting, right, considering that I fit into a size 2 Petite not a 14 or a 3X?

I urge you to buy and read the book Hungry Heart.

Jennifer Weiner is anti-MFA. Like I do, she knows that if you’re a writer you don’t need to spend all your time in a classroom learning to write.

Those of us who are writers will do our editing of a manuscript on a crowded New York City bus we’re lucky to get a seat on.

We’ll write in a notebook on the subway, or at a table in a public library, or at any number of indie coffee shops in our neighborhood.

We scope out the layout of the living room dining room area when we want to buy a co-op or rent an apartment to verify there’s room for a desk and a file cabinet.

I’ve been remiss in blogging here because yes indeed I’ve started writing a third novel. This is the one I want to publish first within three years.

Jennifer Weiner tells it like it is.

I tell you this:

There is something about being bullied, about being called fat, about being an outsider in the Popularity Contest of Life that endows a person with great writing talent.

I’ve been listening to alternative music ever since I was in high school–long before I was a disc jockey on the FM radio.

I tell you this also:

I’ll go to my grave–a 90-year old woman–listening to the Beastie Boys.

Thirty years after my disc jockey career ended I’m still listening to alternative music.

Thirty years after having a breakdown I stand in solidarity with those of us who are outsiders–who don’t fit in–whose difference threatens to mark us with an externally-inflicted stigmata.

Listen up loyal blog readers:

You have nothing to be ashamed of or feel guilty about because you have a diagnosis of SZ or whatever challenge you have in life.

Let’s refuse to be hurt when a dude tells a potential lover he won’t date a fat woman.

Would he then divorce a skinny woman who gained 10 pounds because she was no longer desirable?

Think about this. Think long and hard before you submit to feeling guilty or ashamed because of who you are.

Legendary Authors and the Clothes They Wore

authors clothes

Now you see my focus on fashion and music wasn’t so far-fetched in my memoir Left of the Dial.

A book has indeed been written about authors and clothes. I’m now not the only one linking our sartorial bent to our creative success.

That is Joan Didion on the cover. She is the author of The Year of Magical Thinking, a best-selling memoir.

The ultimate truth about fashion and aptly individual style has been corroborated on the Visual Therapy website.

Co-founder Joe Lupo wrote there:

“We stand by the idea that style isn’t just about the clothes–it’s about the people in them. Using style and clothing to express the most authentic superstar version of yourself will give you the confidence you need to reach for your dreams and goals.”

Co-founder Jesse Garza reinforced:

“We always say that when image (the outer) and identity (the inner) are aligned, the result is clarity that will bring you places and help you reach your goals in all spheres of life.”

From firsthand experience I’ve seen that when you’re at odds with your clothing, it could be because you’re at odds with yourself.

Hiding behind your clothes is a way to hide you from yourself.

Finding the items that fit and flatter is like coming home to yourself.

Research non-traditional careers if you’re loathe to wear a suit and pumps to work.

I’m revising and editing my second non-fiction book.

I will return here in the coming weekend if I’m able.

Why I Detest Stereotypes

I abhor stereotyping people. As a writer, I wanted to publish a schizophrenia memoir where the illness was in a way almost secondary. I wanted to craft original characters that had real lives.

Long-term research indicates that about 15 percent of individuals diagnosed with schizophrenia have a refractory form of this illness: unremitting symptoms. And 10 to 15 percent commit suicide according to the long-term studies.

This causes doctors and family members to extrapolate from the minority of patients and loved ones that NO ONE with schizophrenia can have a normal life or a better life.

I understand how a person can feel when their loved one has a refractory illness. I make the case for better research and better treatment for schizophrenia for individuals who have a severe form. I make the case for seeing who the person is as a human being not a mental patient.

My contention is that stereotypes are lies. Viewing everyone the same way because you interacted with one person who behaved that way is stereotyping.

And often it’s the mothers and fathers who stereotype their loved ones by saying: “My son’s a schizophrenic.”

Stop that. Right now.

Jill Bolte Taylor in her brilliant memoir My Stroke of Insight wrote that she needed everyone to believe she would recover when she had a stroke that paralyzed her.

Believe that your son or daughter can recover. Believe that individuals diagnosed with schizophrenia can recover.

Know that you don’t have, I don’t have, no one has the right to judge another person. We don’t have the right to write the end of their story before it begins. Neither do we have the right to think: “You were supposed to become a brain surgeon and now that you work at Rite Aid I’m disappointed in you.”

I abhor stereotypes of any kind. I’m writing a novel with an African American character so I’m set to read books written by and about African Americans.

My point I’m getting at is that no one’s a cardboard character. To quote Jodi Picoult from a radio interview: “People are more than the sum total of their disability.”

It’s a choice: we can focus on illness or we can focus on the beauty inside as well as outside of a person. And I think sometimes only seeing the symptoms and focusing on the hell blinds others to that beauty.

What I’m saying is two-fold: we can’t view recovery as the total absence of illness. Yet we can’t view the illness as the person’s identity in life.

I’m a writer: I’m interested in the contradictions inherent in everyone’s personality.

I’m a person in recovery: I’m interested in destroying stereotypes by writing about real people not about pathology.

And yes, I salute cashiers who work in Rite Aid just like I salute people who have other careers.

I’ll quote the title of an earlier blog entry that quoted the X song title:

“See who we are.”

See possibility in our pain. Break bread with us. Get to know us as people first.

There’s a word for this.

It’s called dignity.

Untold Stories

If memory serves it was Zora Neale Hurston who is quoted that there’s no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you. If you listen closely to what my Uncle Joe is saying in the video you’ll see he makes this point too in his own words.

We have to honor our veterans. The statistic is that 22 veterans commit suicide each day.

You might think we had no business starting the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan (I do not think we should have started these wars.) Yet that is beside the point when Americans join our armed services to serve our country. We have to honor our veterans and regard them with the highest esteem.

You can watch the Joe Bruni documentary here on CNN.

Our veterans deserve better. They deserve better than to be cooked to death in prison like Jerome Murdough who had a mental illness and was homeless and was sent to jail.

The time is now to get real: our veterans deserve better.