Writing in all sorts of directions

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I spent five hours working on a presentation for A Rock or Something Productions tonight. I think I’m still crosseyed, but it will be worth it if that company takes off. It has a solid and great mission: to help returning veterans transition back into society by using different forms of art. I’d keep doing it even if we don’t get any money because I know we’ve already helped people. Shit, art saved my life. Without being able to write it down I don’t know what I would have done. My ultimate goal is to hold writing groups for veterans and other people who suffered traumatic injuries. I would absolutely love to be able to do that and pay the mortgage.

Well, we have one more reading with this anthology and then I believe we will be working on the next one. I’ll be heading down to Corvallis to read at Murphy’s Tavern in South Town… A reading in a tavern full of infantrymen and their families. I better wear a helmet. I’m sure it will be a great time.

Later this month I get to sit on a panel with some popular Portland writers for an annual writing conference. Sounds fun. I was going to look over the talking points they emailed me, but I’m trying to finish all their memoirs. I read most of the panels’ books as a courtesy. I try to do that whenever I’m paired up or put in with a group.

Keith and I are shopping for a gallery to have a show. I don’t think it will be too hard. Last time our art wasn’t this good and it happened pretty quickly. This time we have some great stuff. We’ll show our Heroes of the Trailer Park series. They are paintings of writers who helped me get through growing up poor in a small town. I say writers, but we included Tom Waits.

Tomorrow I work on my one-act play. I will be writing at least two for our series this summer. A Rock or Something Productions is teaming with Part Time Playhouse to put on 9 one-act plays written, produced, and performed by veterans since it worked so well with a play I did last year called The Quixote Club, about a couple of guys who thought they were chasing windmills from their barstools at the VFW.

Oh well, thanks for reading this far,

Good Night

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