It has been a while, please excuse the dust. And yes, I realize the blog is kind of an out-of-date idea, but I am old. And honestly I am doing this for me, not anyone who may or may not be reading this. That said, I am aware that some folks might read this. For those new to my little corner of reality, a synopsis:
Craig Ferguson once said in an interview that “writing a novel is kind of like making love to a gorilla – you’re not done until the gorilla is done.” Thus, the name of this blog. It was supposed to be a ride-along on the journey of my path to publishing a novel.
Several years ago I hit a wall. A hard wall. Something happened in my life that shoved me violently off that path. Since then I have walked the path of the game organizer, convention organizer, and game developer. It lead me back to considering what it would take to revive the desire to write in me again. What story would be born in me that would have to make it out into the world? Enter the global pandemic…
It began with working from home. I set up my library to be my new office. Figured out how to maintain my work on the Badgers website using my home wifi and computer. Which evolved into 50% hours on a work share program. This year it became 100% furlough. I had time on my hands.
It began with me signing up to work the Virtual Weekends through Wizards of the Coast. It is within my skillset and was a way for me to bring in some money. At the very least it was a way for me to pay for the tools I was picking up to improve the online play experience for those picking up tickets to my events. My normal players just gain the benefit of this by default – so remind them they are lucky if you know any of them.
I also received a newsletter that mentioned a mentored writing program. You see, I know quite a few authors. And it appears that an author I am friends with experienced a similar problem that I had. And she was offering a mentoring program on working through it. She was also offering what could be a built-in online critique group. Or at the very least, like-minded folks going on the same journey I am. It was a cost, but it was also a value for what it offered. And the above-mentioned income that was going towards my new productivity tools… it could cover it.
This was the first week of it. The start is a little rocky as I already had a charity event planned the first weekend, and a conflicting work weekend during the second Zoom meeting. But I can download the recorded videos and still be involved in the online discussions and Q&A until week three. And I can now schedule around the Zoom calls for the rest of the weekends.
One of our first assignments is to address what is a potential block for us identify/vocalize the fix for it. Which leads me to a story of sorts. You see, there is a quote that I have heard used in a movie or two that I recognized. It may have been something handed down in various dojos, military units, or whatever. All I know is I have heard it before, though it comes from a point in my life where my memory has some issues.
I was sixteen years old and competing in my first “real” martial arts tournament. A national one in Chicago. In my belt’s age/weight class, there was only one other kid who was just barely in my class (teen 175-200). This kid clocked in right at 175, and I was running 195. My choice was to let the younger kid bounce to the lower weight class (technically topping at 175) and jumping into the adult weight classes (minimum age was 16), or just fight a single match at my first major tournament. So I bounced to the adult ranks.
My first fight was against someone who was 26 years old, running about 215. During the course of the fight, I walked into a spinning back kick that should have been called for contact. I spit my mouth guard out fifteen feet (the width of the ring). I had never taken as hard of a hit from a person before. I was allowed a short time to kneel and catch my breath (and have the ring doctor check me out). My sensei came over to coach me, and after I flinched like Ralph Macchio during the first few exchanged in Karate Kid’s tournament, took me aside.
“What you running out of the ring for, Alfano? You’ve fought like this plenty of times.” The answer for me was that those fights were against my fellow students. We were there to learn together. We were friends – brothers and sisters in arms. None of them have ever kicked my spine taking the scenic route.
“This time, I’m afraid sensei. I can’t seem to catch my breath.”
It was then that he made me center and focus my breathing. He told me that only idiots aren’t afraid during a fight. Bravery is not the absence of fear, but continuing on and thriving in the presence of fear.
What does that mean in this context? It means the idea of starting back up weighs on me. Without being negative I have to admit that and give it a name. You cannot defeat an enemy you cannot name. And for me that name is Grief. It started with the loss of my last dog, Aladdin. And it continued with the loss of my good friend Blaine. Those things anchored me down and kept my muse silent.
My enemy named, I must also admit I am afraid to face it. If I wasn’t, then there was no reason it should be holding me back. But I will also hold on to the words one of assistant sensei at my dojo said to Sensei Fields, “We have a warrior here!” It was during a lesson in which I wasn’t pushing the maneuver enough as I had another fear of using my full strength. I was afraid of hurting someone. After the 4th or 5th time of going through the reps he barked at me to put him down hard or he was going to pair me up with someone else. Like a drill sergeant he barked that at me and swung at me nearly full speed. I spun the block and arm bar we were practicing on him and dropped him to his knees and he slapped the ground with the flat of his hand. Part tapping out, and part celebrating. “Yes! Now that is how to take an opponent down!” It was then he called out to Sensei and named me Warrior. Sensei Fields later said it wasn’t the strength with which I took him down that elicited that – it was the look in my eyes. He said that their view was that someone could be a really good fighter without being a warrior. A warrior spirit was something that couldn’t be trained – it just was.
So Grief is my enemy and my fear. And the Warrior doesn’t back down from a fight.
Getting to Know Your Gorilla 