The Life And Death Of Joe Rowley. Alcoholism And Addiction In Action. The funny thing is, I didn’t know Joe that well. He was only an acquaintance really, a drinking acquaintance, not a close friend of mine by any stretch of the imagination. A ship that passed in the drink and drug soaked long dark night of my soul. So why was it that when I heard of his death, six thousand miles away, and more than a sober year or two after our last contact, that I was moved to tears? I cannot find a full explanation yet, it remains a teasing and tantalizing will o’ the wisp, dancing on the peripheral fringes of my consciousness. Perhaps in writing this and recounting the facts of the matter, I will be able to find some resolution, as I still get teary, some thirty years later, when I think of Joe, and the manner of his end. I had moved from London, our English capital city, to Brighton, a small seaside holiday town about sixty miles South, with it’s more provincial ambience. Also, as a holiday resort, it possessed a subclass that derived much of it’s income from the periodic influx of tourists. These people ranged from those who provided legitimate services, such as board and lodging, a well known genera including such sub-species as seaside landladies and hotel workers, to the more exploitative, such as bargirls, and the downright predatory, such as pick-pockets and pimps. Graham Green in his novel Brighton Rock, gives his grim, gray, grainy portrait of these under classes, with their admixture of petty criminality, that populate this underside of Brighton society; and the sordid parabolas of fungal doom that constitute the nightblooming of their lives. Probably not so different from many towns whose income is in some large part derived from similar sources. Joe, earning his living as a beach photographer, was mid-range in his grubby occupation. A bit exploitative of the visitors, with his persistent persuasive importunings, as he prevailed upon tourists to purchase his services, hawked on the promenade and lower beachfront, without going as far as to actually insert his hand into their pocket. Myself, drinking within bar patios on the lower beachfront level, had plenty of opportunity to observe Joe ply his trade. Manipulating vacationers with what I now realize was an underlying, but ever present, driving desperation. Joe would be a clown for people, mock himself, present himself in any way he thought would ingratiate. He uttered his smoothly flowing conman patter, it poured out of his mouth without seeming effort, as he at times literally capered in front of a prospect whose path he had blocked. Joe had the gift of the gab. For me, this was observed mainly during the daytime, on sunny public holidays or weekends, which attracted me to the vicinity of his beat. Lucrative times for Joe, but he was probably similarly engaged most other days too, unless it was raining, or too cold and windy, or all three, on that coast of frequent hurtling squalls. God knows how he got by in some of the savage months of Winter. Now and again Joe would take a break, and join the company for a beer, camera slung around his neck, like some disreputable reporter from the holiday beachhead, before resuming his endeavors. Conversing and joking around, always active and animated, bouncy with a cheerful ready wit, nut-brown from the regular exposure to the sun that he absorbed as the condition of his line of work, he was an entertaining companion. Perhaps a bit of a rough diamond, with his short crew cut hair lending an oafish look to his short and stocky build, part soldier, part gangster thug. Though he hardly stood out in this seafront assembly of drinkers, daylight ladies of the evening, hustlers, midday drunken tourists, misfits and ne’er do wells of every stripe. You understand, the usual potpourri of riff raff to be found in such places. For all his chunky masculinity, I never saw Joe with a woman. It’s not that he gave any indication that he was gay. He just seemed more at ease and more often at home in the company of men. Though in all conscience, he was seemingly as relaxed when my then wife was present drinking with me, passing the time of day with her in amiable chit chat and superficial banter. Joe gave no indication of superior education or culture either. His language was commonplace, salty and vulgar on occasion as it might be. He never infringed on a topic of any meaning, all was pitched on a mundane everyday level. Only the quickness of his sharp wit at times revealed there might be more intelligence to Joe than was normally allowed to be visible. Of course, even in those quarters, as elsewhere, rapid wit and skills at repartee gain their owner respect, so Joe probable felt it safe to show them. One late sunny Sunday morning, Joe entered the seafront bar I happened to be patronizing. After buying his first drink, he began pitching me his service. Making me a “mark”, a “John”, a breach of ethics really, you don’t con your own tribe. But I was not a close member, a hippy, with long hair, a full beard, unusual for that time and place. I had financial status too, owner of a car and a three-bedroom house, host of noisy weekend revels to the town’s gallimaufry of colorful characters. But his likeability was disarming, the amount of money was small to me, and I enjoyed the pitter of his patter and the easy grace with which he propositioned me, taking it all in with detached amusement while knowing exactly what he was doing. I also knew, he would take something back from whatever I gave him, at the special cut rate that he was using to tempt me, (after all we were friends weren’t we, so he was offering me a good deal on that basis). I just knew he would screw me somehow. My intuition was vindicated later when he gave me the roll of film he took, leaving me to pay for the cost of developing it, with some barefaced shameless flim-flam explanation of why he was doing so. I just laughed. Now I see the covert desperation was his driving need for money to drink. Perhaps on some inner level I knew and sympathized, feeling more fortunate, as my need for drink and drugs was just as driving, but my means were more equal to my needs. I would also see Joe in another bar, or a pub as they are also termed in England, a mostly weekend evening hangout, where I often sat in with the musicians. This was one of the several pubs we frequented that sold British apple wine. Because it was home produced and carried no import tax on it’s alcohol content, it was comparatively pretty cheap, as strong as sherry, relatively palatable, and with the well-deserved reputation for creating a crazed drunkenness. This of course only added to the popularity of Merrydown, as it was named with an arch touch of drollery. Several times, early in the evening, which perhaps accounts for the fact that I was conscious enough to retain the memory, Joe would join me at the bar. This was in fact where he returned the undeveloped roll of film to me on one occasion. He would order a glass of Merrydown, which arrived in a capacious tumbler, full to the brim, and leave it on the bar. He would ignore his drink, chatting casually, as if it were of no interest, as if he had half forgotten it. After a few minutes or so, as if catching sight of it, as if vaguely remembering what he was engaged in, “Oh yes, I have a drink somewhere don’t I?”, he would pick it up with a smooth rapidity, raising his glass as he tilted his head back, and drain the entire contents in one set of swift gulping swallows. Then swinging the glass down in a wide arc to crash it on the bar, he would look at me and state rhetorically, “We’re such bastards Brian, aren’t we? Such bastards!” And then order another, and another, and another, each accompanied by a repeat performance. The dissembler with beads of sweat on his forehead. That were not created by the warm evening. Now I realize how badly Joe needed those drinks, he had reached the stage of physically addicted alcoholism, and I was close on his heels. So why the charade? What was he hiding from whom? Not wanting to admit his “weakness”, I guess he wanted to keep some shred of self-respect, some façade that hid reality as much from himself, as from others. Pretending he wasn’t so desperately in need of the drink that in actuality he was so desperately in need of. Now if the party, i.e. the drunken debauch, was not at my house, mostly we would congregate at Grace and Gordon’s basement flat, and Joe would infrequently show up there too, late into the night. Grace was known even among us as an as an outrageous alcoholic. Arising around noon, she would spend two hours putting on her makeup with shaking hands, while consuming large glasses of Merrydown, or anything alcoholic that had been donated by a guest the night before. Or lacking a commercial product, resorting to her still cloudy homebrewed wine, that had barely finished fermenting. Ugh! Every morning, without fail. By nightfall she was roaring drunk and ready to party. Gordon was a fabulous, almost mythic figure. Sporting a military moustache, a relic of his service in the army, which he detested, the thinning hair was drawn back into an incongruent silky blondish ponytail, barely concealing his balding crown. Again an even more unusual deviant appearance considering his age, at this time and in this place. Gordon loved his drink too, was highly enamored of pot, and took far more amphetamines than he let on. Grace smoked weed if it was around, as did most on this scene, but booze was her first true love without any question. Both of them were some ten years senior to myself, at that time in my early thirties. Grace latterly was taking pills for the flashes of light across her vision, and the sudden pains shooting down her face. It was so obvious her drinking caused them, except to her Doctor of course, to whom she probably lied anyway. After I left I heard she was admitted to hospital with a diagnosis of some kind of “nerve problem.” Ha! I’ll say. From Grace and Gordon I think I remember half hearing in some dim hallucinatory state, the story that Joe had once owned a nightclub in South London, but had had it taken from him by the coercion of some brutal gangsters. That would account for his air of toughness. And then, during his descent, his wife had deserted him. You might think this was Joe’s tragedy, but I now see it was so much more than only that. One night, around one or two am, Joe shows up at Grace and Gordon’s. He is as stoned as we are, and sits slumped in silence, almost collapsed, in an armchair. The music is turned down low, and the conversation sluggish and intermittent, all of those present being in their own sunken state of chemical torpor. All of a sudden, during a pause, a moment of silence, Joe begins to speak. To recite actually. Joe is reciting a lengthy poem.. from memory. And not only that, he is expressing himself with a phenomenal artistry. Every nuance of feeling, every scintilla of meaning, Joe is wringing it out of the poem, displaying the delicate, sensitive, subtle sensibilities of a truly poetic soul. His eyes are dull with a distant look. It is almost as if he is semi-conscious, and some other inhabitant of his inner world is speaking through him. Some deeply buried part of him has sprung to life, and Joe himself seems almost unaware of what he is doing. In the doom ridden besotted gloom we are entranced, enthralled, held spellbound by his words and their meaning, in one of those rare jeweled moments of timeless eternity that are occasionally found set amongst the dregs of drugged and drunken time warps. Who could of known Joe had this in him? I cannot even recall the poem at all, but I know it had greatness, a loveliness that Joe crystallized out of his own being. I only recall that feeling of sacred awe at witnessing the beauty of Joe’s hugeness, and the quality of his intellect and sensitivity, penetrating and encompassing on every level, each and every nook and cranny of his poem. For all I know, he wrote it himself. So the real tragedy of Joe Rowley was one of this more significant loss. The prostitution of his talents, wasting himself to survive. That sadness in some place inside breeding such guilt, remorse and self-hatred, “We’re such bastards Brian, aren’t we? Such bastards!” As he was forced to abandon and betray himself over and over again. Never knowing that his addiction to alcohol was relentlessly consuming his life and being, completely out of any control by who he thought he was. The victim of a state of mind and body of which he had no comprehension. Never knowing of his own goodness. Never cognizant of his own great heart and the sweetness of his shining spirit, which stood so briefly revealed in those phantasmagoric moments, when the curtain of his lesser being was drawn aside. Driven down to ever lower depths of self-degradation and self-destruction by the loveless nightmare scourge of his alcoholism. Till he reached that inevitable terminal nadir, that deep pit, so deep that the only escape from it is through the still deeper bottom that is death. The news I received, later and so far away, was that Joe had choked on his own vomit, while unconscious from a combination of alcohol and sleeping pills, like so many before and since. This was his swansong. And my sorrow for Joe.. perhaps is not only for him.. perhaps this is the explanation for that fleeting recurrent source of tears. I see so much of myself and my life reflected in Joe and his life.. so much of what was true of him has been true of me. At least, since writing this, no tears well up as I think of him. And then there are the myriad matching marching cohorts.. past, present and future.. treading some such path to some such similar an end. I never had that film Joe took of me developed… I lost it some time ago …. Somewhere along the way. Brian Green. mindmagic123.com c. 2007.

Writing an E-zine is more than just a pretty packaging for words. Those words are the meat of your E-zine and your message. You have to think about content and your audience and writing it well and getting your readers’ attention and keeping your readers’ attention and…. The list goes on and doesn’t ever seem to stop. Today I’m going to focus on one facet of writing, writing well. If you write well, then your E-zine will accomplish all those goals: getting your readers’ attention, keeping their attention, and meeting their needs. Now, we’re not talking about correct grammar and sentence mechanics, although that is important to writing well. We’re talking about how to make the writing come alive, to be yours and yours alone. –> Be creative. Whether you’re writing titles or giving examples, come up with your own ideas. It seems clever to riff off the “Got Milk?” slogan, but after a while (and sometimes a very short while), that gets old. You don’t have to worry about your writing being cliche or old when you come up with your own creative ideas. –> Be yourself. You’re not the answer for everyone, and not everyone is going to be attracted to your stuff. However, if you write authentically, then you have a better chance of people sticking around to see what you have to say. It’s basic Law of Attraction. –> Be original. You don’t have to do it like everyone else. You don’t have to follow all the rules. You don’t have to incorporate all the great advice you read in E-zines (even in mine!). Do it your own way and stand out from the crowd. If you’re like everyone else, what would make people gravitate toward you? Give them a reason to pick you. –> Be strong. Choose a stand and believe in it. If your writing is filled with “I think” and “I guess” and “I believe” and “it seems,” you come across as wishy-washy. Take those words out and stand firm. Say what you believe and believe what you say. –> Be human. We all make mistakes. Don’t try to pretend you’re perfect. If you make a mistake, own up to it. Your audience wants someone to whom they can relate. If you come across as perfect, how can they relate to you? Admit your weaknesses and be authentic. –> Be fun-filled. Enjoy what you’re writing about. Write from the heart. Be passionate. If you like humor, be funny. If you like word play, add a few puns. If you’re thrilled with what you’re doing, let that joy come out in your writing. Makes you want to go off and write, doesn’t it? Enjoy, and may you all write well! Dawn Goldberg is Chief Operating Officer of Assist University, Founder and Chief Writing Officer of Write Well U., mother, community leader, and former teacher. Her goal is to help others become better and stronger writers. Visit her website at .writewellu.com for more information about writing well.

For the past several years I have been reviewing books for my own site, Bookpleasures.com, as well as many other sites. I am also a regular contributor to the Canadian Book Review Annual. As editor of Bookpleasures.com, I would like to make a few comments about book reviewing and what to expect, particularly from Bookpleasures.com. Today, with the advent of the Internet, there has been a proliferation of book reviewers, whom I shall classify as the good, the bad and the ugly. Those falling into the last category are those that you have to be particularly on the look out for, as their only interest is to receive complimentary books without bothering to review them, or if they do review them, their reviews are very short and without substance. On the other hand, there are many serious and excellent reviewers who devote a great deal of their time and energy in reading and writing a review. Sometimes, I admit, the reviews are not exactly very complimentary. However, it is to be noted that it is not the objective of a reviewer to be a salesperson or a public relations representative for the author. If the criticism is constructive, a great deal can be learned from the review, particularly if the reviewer is also an author. From the point of view of a reviewer, what I find most annoying is receiving a book without first asking me if I would accept to review it. Bookpleasures receives on average about 10-15 email requests per week. Generally, I personally accept a few to review, others, I forward onto Bookpleasures’ international team of reviewers. In all probability, there is a 20%-30% chance that a request to review will be accepted by a reviewer. The reason why a book is not accepted is wide and varied. Many of our reviewers have a backlog that they would like to clear before accepting new assignments, or the subject matter is not one that interests any of them. What I like to see in a request is not “hype” but rather a brief resumé of the contents of the book, who the author is, if the book is published by a main stream publisher or is it self-published, and if the book is available on Amazon. Bookpleasures also conducts e-interviews with some authors, and if the author is open to have himself or herself interviewed, please indicate. If you are a publicist or publisher, don’t be afraid to put Bookpleasures as well as other book reviewing sites on your emailing list. You never know when something catches our eyes. Sometimes you may be publicizing a particular book, and our reviewers will look to your site and see something else that interests them. As for the time frame, this all depends on the reviewer. Anywhere from one week to three months is the norm. You can ask the reviewer to give you some idea as to his or her time frame. You can also inquire as to his or her credentials. Bookpleasures does provide links to the reviewers’ site that should give you some idea as to their experience. I do hope this is of help to some of you. Norm Goldman is the Editor of the book reviewing and author interviewing site, .bookpleasures.com. Bookpleasures.com comprises over 25 international reviewers that come from all walks of life and that review all genre. Norm also offers his own personal express review service.

Essay writing is a commonly used tool that checks your creative skills. Whether it is a five-paragraph text for your high school essay writing or a story about yourself for college essays, you need one thing that keeps everything together

If you’ve always wanted to be an author, you’re not alone! One recent study indicated that 80% of the population wants to write a book, but only 2% will ever actually do so! Why do so many aspiring writers fail to write their book? Most people don’t have the time or the know-how, and many simply don’t know where to begin. Fortunately, there are numerous options available to would-be authors who want to publish their own book. You can hire a ghostwriter or work with a book-writing coach to help you get your book done. You can join a writing group, work with an accountability partner, or even enlist the help of a co-author. If you choose to write your book on your own, here are some additional tips and tactics for finally getting your book written: 1. Begin with the end in mind. Before you write a word, you’ve got to determine why you’re writing a book in the first place. Where will your book fit into your overall business model? Will you use your book as a lead-generator, to establish your expert status, or to promote your business? Decide what you want from your book so it can be written with your goals in mind! 2. Your title is (almost) everything. Here’s an amazing statistic: Over ___% of book buyers purchase a book on the title alone! The importance of your book’s title cannot be overstated. Your title is crucial to the success of your book, so choose something memorable and compelling. In this case, you can judge a book by it’s cover! 3. Develop your outline. If the thought of writing an entire book intimidates you, think of your book as several smaller articles (chapters) and chunk it down. Start by developing your outline or table of contents. Build and expand from there. You may find that you’ve already got existing materials that can be repurposed for your book. Have you done teleseminars or courses that can be converted to book content? Use what you’ve already got and you may be amazed at how quickly it comes together. 4. Get into your writing groove. Some days the words just flow, other times you may hit a brick wall. The trick is to keep on writing. Just try to get the words down. You can always revise and edit later. Set daily or weekly writing goals. Try committing to writing one hour per day or shoot for 3,000 words per week. It’s easier to re-write than to write

I am lucky. I have no problems coming up with very good ideas for movies. If I never had another idea for the rest of my life, I would not make a sizable dent in the ones I already have. Screenwriters who struggle with coming up with an idea tend to be visibly annoyed when I tell them this. I think I’m comfortable sharing this with others because I know movie ideas really mean nothing and please nobody in and of themselves, so there’s not much to brag about. I guess you can get lucky and sell an idea, but in terms of what’s important, a motion picture screened in front of people, a great idea is simply a member of the orchestra that achieves that vision. I’m not sure where all the ideas come from, but I can tell you where I was, and by telling you this, perhaps this will help you come up with your idea. First, you should know what you want to write. A feature? For the studios? For yourself to direct? Maybe a low budget script for someone else to direct. Will it be shot on film or digital video? Are you looking for an idea for a short film? Perhaps you have a particular genre in mind. Parameters are excellent tools for creativity. The irony is restriction spawns wonderfully imaginative ideas. If you can write about anything or anybody, with absolutely no conditions, it becomes harder to settle and find that jewel of an idea. So determine your conditions, every one, and embrace them, because there you will find the frame of your idea. In other words, knowing your movie has to be shot on digital video in four weeks with two Asian women in their thirties at an antiques store will narrow your thinking and concentrate your imaginative power. Is it necessary to have parameters before we come up with an idea? Of course not. You can always find a very special idea and that idea will determine it’s own boundaries. But if you have needs for your screenplay, determine those needs, and it will help. So after you have determined the conditions for your screenplay, or if you have not, now you can come up with your idea. What’s a good place to start? The newspaper. Read a thick newspaper. Read through all sections. Read the obituaries. This is our world. Artists look at the world and become moved to express themselves. I read the newspaper anyway, but many times I find something, even one line, which is highly inspiring. By looking through the newspaper with fresh eyes, we become open again to what affects us. I also find the newspaper will confirm instincts I might already have about an idea. And make sure you read the section you normally never read at breakfast. Trust me. Okay, you’re reading the newspaper, and you might find something interesting. Documentaries can also be great reservoirs for inspiration. Awesome documentaries abound these days and they often contain imagery, facts, and revelations that may provoke an idea out of left field. Now don’t run out and rent 20 docs and lean into your DVD waiting for the logline to come out of the screen and hit you over the head. Just watch what is interesting and forget about what you need. Walk where you would normally drive. Take the train to work if you don’t. Get on a public bus, or go rent a car and drive. Spend the day at the airport. Take a different way to work each day for a week. Make a list of ten stores you would never for the life of you visit for any reason at all, go to all ten and browse for 20 minutes each. These disruptions in your environment will open your eyes. You’ll be able to take in more of your world, and it will effect you and make you think. We’ve run out of ideas because we are bored by what we see. You’re shut down. You don’t need to get on a plane or visit a foreign country to clear your head and help you focus. Your distant planet is down the street, walking distance. Another inspiring action is to take the day and go to a series of garage sales. The homes, the neighborhoods, the people and the stuff they’re trying to sell you will definitely make you think. There are a million stories in what people pick up and keep as belongings in their lives. Try an estate sale. I have left estate sales feeling as if I knew the personal habits and longings of the recently deceased, simply by the possessions they kept until their death. It’s not difficult to find these sales, they happen every weekend and right close by. Take up a new sport. Enroll in a language class. Sign up for a course at the Red Cross. I picked up a basketball one day and start playing after many years and I felt like I had a new movie in my head every time I stepped on the court. Getting an education in something new gets us humble and that humility keeps us open to new information and this makes us creative. If we feel like a master, we’ve run out of ideas. As students, we accept there’s more out there, and that attitude will spawn discovery and fresh perspective. Finally, when I don’t know what I should write about, I ask myself what’s troubling me. If you take a second to pause and get quiet with your heart, you will find you desperately what to say something very important. Let that something speak. One more thing. Please don’t write about you know, like they always say. Let somebody else do that, and you, you write what you want. Article URL: .bluecatscreenplay.com/About/advice.php Copyright © 2006 BlueCat Screenplay Competition About the Author Winner of the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at the Sundance Film Festival for LOVE LIZA , Gordy Hoffman has written and directed three digital shorts for Fox Searchlight. He made his feature directorial debut with his script, A COAT OF SNOW, which world premiered at the 2005 Locarno International Film Festival. He is also the founder of the BlueCat Screenplay Competition. Dedicated to develop and celebrate the undiscovered screenwriter, BlueCat provides written screenplay analysis on every script entered. In addition, Gordy acts as a script consultant for screenwriters, offering personalized feedback on their scripts through his consultation service, .screenplaynotes.com. For more articles by Gordy on screenwriting, visit .bluecatscreenplay.com.

There was once a time when grandparents sat amidst a group of wide-eyed grandchildren telling stories of days gone by. As the global village shrinks and families spread out across the nation and the world, the tradition of sharing family stories orally is in decline. Oral tradition

Writing articles is a great proven way of driving traffic to your website or a product your selling. But what do you do when the ideas dry up and you are faced with the scary Blank White Screen, writers block, we have all had it. Many people say just try and plough through it, this is hard work, what about another solution. Mind mapping is a great tool when faced with many creative blocks and has a long history of success. Tony Buzan is probably the most famous exponent of this technique and his books will help you refine your mind mapping abilities. Here is a simple method that is directly useful to generate writing ideas, that I have used many times. First get a large piece of paper and in the centre draw a shape with your name. Now sit for a minute and thing of all the skill and abilities you have learned over your lifetime, also any experiences you have had. From the central name put lines off going to other keywords of the skills, abilities and experiences you have had. From these keywords put other lines going outwards to other ideas or keywords that you can expand these too. Too give an example, one of my skills is hypnosis, which leads too NLP, relaxation, meditation, therapy, these few examples can then be expanded to other things. Maybe lead to dealing with the public, relaxation techniques, funny experiences, different techniques, and the list is endless. Each of these things creates another link, after 5 or 10 minutes of expanding on this, I always recommend, leave it go make a coffee. When you go back to it look at the list of keywords you have expanding from you, these are all skills or experience that are personal and I’m sure one at least will spur on a good article. The good thing with starting off with yourself as the starting point, is that the expanded keywords are personal too you so easy to use. These will lead to articles you do not really need to research, because there existing skills or experiences, which makes writing the article so much quicker. Remember this example was just related to a person’s own experience, your starting point could be anything, but it will undoubtedly lead to ideas for many articles. I hope this helps get your creative juices going and I look forward to reading your many great articles. Thomas Wolf .wolfheadtraining.co.uk

Old Man’s War, John Scalzi, 2005, ISBN 0765309408 Mankind has started to spread out in the galaxy, and so have a lot of other races. The available real estate is scarce, which leads to near-constant war for land. The only way for Americans to get into space is to join the Colonial Defense Force (CDF). They guard human colonies, and go to war over disputed planets. The CDF only takes people who have reached their 75th birthday. A vague promise of being made young again is a pretty strong incentive to sign up. The catch is that joining the CDF is a one-way trip. If you survive your tour of duty, hardly a sure thing, you will spend the rest of your life on some colony planet; returning to Earth is not an option. John Perry signs up. He just turned 75, his wife, Kathy, died several years previously, and his one adult son lives on his own. On the spaceship taking him, and several hundred others, to basic training on another planet, he learns just what the becoming young part is all about. His consciousness is transferred into a cloned body, in its mid-twenties, made from his own DNA, which was extracted from him several years previously. It’s very much of a new and improved body with a green skin color. He also has a computer implanted in his brain, which can talk to him and communicate with anyone else. After basic training, Perry and his squad travel from planet to planet. Friends die, and new friends are made. During one disastrous operation, Perry crash lands on a planet, and is rescued by. . . his wife. She too is green, but the resemblance is way too close to be a coincidence. She (her name is Jane) is part of the Ghost Brigades, actually clones of dead people. Having no conception of what life is like as a realborn, they are kept far away from the rest of the CDF. Perry is made part of a Ghost Brigades squad, and begins to tell his squadmates what it’s like to be married, and to love another person. Here is an excellent novel. It has space travel, it has weirdness, it has heart and it has a lot of great writing. This is highly recommended. Paul Lappen is a freelance book reviewer whose website, Dead Trees Review, has over 700 reviews on all subjects, with an emphasis on small press books.

You may have heard that there are two sides to your brain. The left brain is more logical and the right brain is more creative. Writing comes out of the right brain and to tap into your inner author it is important to do it in a fun way. If you feel like you have to write usually the left side will kick in and it becomes more difficult when you start to analyze the information you want to share. Tapping into the information bank you have inside of you already requires a way to get access to your inner author. It is that part of your brain that you normally hear about as your right brain. The right brain is the part that likes music, laughter, fun, games and being creative. When you try to approach your writing from an a more structured approach you will immediately be shifted to your left brain that is more logical. That side also is more intellectual and analyzes well but is not usually very good at communicating. That is why writers block seems so frequently to be a problem with many people. Step outside of your logic and just tell your reader about your information as if you are telling a friend who is sitting across the table from you. Writing in that kind of conversational tone will connect with more people and will also be easier for you to do. When the flow of words begins to start you can relax into your story and writing will be easier for you. Next time you sit down to write you will find that the flow will start more easily and if writers block appears you can recognize immediately that you are leaning toward your left brain and need to go back toward the right. When you experience this you will find that your block will be easier to dissolve because you have identified what is the cause of the block. This flag will help show you there is a need to change your writing approach. It is a great tool for you to use so you can begin to write as well as write more creatively. Writers block is caused by many things. Identifying what they are can assist you in moving your desire to write forward with more ease. A very common thing in our lives is not something we might attribute to or consider is writers block. Remember as a child we learned that we got bored if we didn’t have anything to do so having alot of activity around us was important to us. That theme continued as we got older and may have continued into your life today. Busywork was also a common tactic to deal with our high energy so check your life today and see if you are busy, being busy, being busy. Do the activities produce results or are they just there to fill in time. In some instances they become instant excuses so we avoid activities that we are not quite sure we can do or we do not want to do. If you are trying to get started on a writing project you might notice that you immediately jump into the list of things you think need to be done before you can stop and take time to write and often the busy excuse is a quick way to avoid what you might think is kind of scary—after all, what if everyone who read your work didn’t like what you had to say? Just do your writing in a conversational tone sharing your experience and you just might discover that lots of others will like what you have written. Another carryover from childhood is feeling like you have to be liked and accepted by everyone. Adapt the mantra: some will, some won’t, so what. More will than won’t so I am encouraging you to go write.