When I first heard The Last Werewolf mentioned, I guessed it was some cynical attempt to glamorize werewolves, maybe make them “hot” or contemporary. We’ve all seen what’s recently been done with vampires and zombies.

I saw enough recommendations from people I respect to convince me to give it a try, and I’m so glad I did. The mythical aspect of werewolves is right up front from the beginning, and Duncan handles that aspect with seriousness and intelligence — more like Anne Rice’s vampires than those of Stephanie Meyer. Where the novel most stands apart, though, is in its literary qualities, the language itself. I’d read nothing by Glen Duncan before, but found myself immediately impressed by his style, attitude and wit.

I mentioned Anne Rice’s vampires. This reminds me more of Rice’s Mayfair Witches series, actually. Better than that, though. It’s a story of long stretches of time, colorful characters, exotic locations, liquor, books, money and mythology. The Last Werewolf goes from celebrating raunch and gore, to more serious philosophical considerations of love and life and death.

This is certainly among the best few books I’ve read in the past five years, and I’m very pleased to hear Duncan’s working on a sequel or two. I love this novel, and give it my highest recommendation.

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9532302-the-last-werewolf

Music, art, acting, writing. These are activities many people undertake for fun, and only a very small percentage of those ever have an opportunity to make enough money to call it a full-time gig. Outside the creative world, jobs like “day care teacher” or “book store clerk” appeal to so many young people that businesses get away with paying the lowest possible wage, yet jobs almost never open up, and when they do there’s no shortage of applicants.

I read an article this morning about aspiring professional distance runners who lack the kind of traditional sponsorships that normally mark an athlete as “professional.” The runners in question move to Albuquerque or Flagstaff to train at altitude and get by on a sub-poverty level of income (the article mentioned $500-1,000 per month) earned from part-time jobs as waiters or retail clerks. It got me thinking about the nature of aspiration, and how some dream jobs are so common (in terms of number of dreamers, not number of job openings) that the number of people chasing after them vastly outnumber the opportunities available. These are people who work very hard, put in a level of effort that would certainly allow them to be successful in other arenas if they were inclined to pursue money-making with the same passion.

Back to the creative world again, the vast majority of struggling musicians, artists, actors and writers never make anything like a real wage for their efforts, yet still they try. This results in a horde of frustrated creative types willing to give away their work for nothing. In the music world it means fewer people are willing to pay for music because such an abundance exists of free downloads. The equivalent in the world of publishing is that web publishing and e-book publishing lead to more and more material being available to read, often free of charge or at a price like 99 cents. This makes it much more difficult for the “middle class” of creative artists to make money from their work.

Just read Caitlin R. Kiernan’s blog entry today which touches on this very thing, from a different angle. “Why does nobody worry about pissing off the artist?” Because there are so many queued up behind saying “You can piss ME off, I won’t mind. You don’t even have to pay me.”

I’m generally overscheduled, stretched too thin, and often exhausted. I’m used to it. For the most part, I like it. I find that having diverse activities keeps me balanced, and prevents me from getting too focused on any one thing.

The ups and downs of the different elements of my life happen on unsynchronized schedules, and tend to offset.

The tension of a stressful period at my day job finds outlet in a series of extra-hard evening workouts.

Feeling disappointed about a bunch of short fiction rejections hitting my inbox rapid fire? There are few things in life as humbling as making an attempt at something, only to fail 100% of the time for some long stretch. But then I put some effort into working on music or the record label, and find reassurance that an audience receptive to my creative output exists.

When I zero in too much on just one thing, the ups and downs take on an outsized importance. We all fantasize about being able to apply ourselves without distraction to THAT ONE THING, yet when life becomes that narrowly focused, it can be scary.

I remember talking to one of my favorite creative artists, who is able to make a living just about entirely from his art. I probably expressed envy, something about how nice it would be to wake up in the morning and worry about nothing except working on music. But this guy said, “I don’t know, I think it’s better to have a day job, because once you put the burden of making a living onto your music, it becomes an obligation.”
Not that I don’t still fantasize about eventually being able to have more time to focus on creative work, but at least for now I try to be thankful that the busyness and fullness of my life make it easier to deal with the speed bumps that occur on any single track.

Last night I was awakened from a deep sleep by the overlapping sounds of a car alarm and extremely loud dance/techno music outside. The family across the street includes a high school boy, and sometimes when his friends drop him off they briefly raise hell in various harmless ways out front. The clock said 1:35 and I thought that was a little late for this kid to get home on a weeknight during school so I got up and peeked through the blinds.

A silver car had pulled up in front of the neighbor kid’s little red Toyota, and the visiting car had all the doors open and the music blasting. Outside the car was a teenage girl in her underwear dancing like a lunatic to the music. The car alarm was going off because the girl was beating on the hood of the kid’s Toyota as part of her meth-fueled Flashdance re-enactment. One or two other kids stayed in the silver car while she continued dancing. At first I thought this was a dare of some kind — “hey, we’ll drive up to Joey’s house and you have to get out of the car in your underwear and dance” — but this went on for several minutes.

I’m not sure what this means, but I decided I’d rather sleep than watch an underwear-clad high school girl dance in her underwear in the street outside my house. I climbed back in bed before the dancing and the music finished.

One of my favorite instrumentalists, starting in the 80s (original bassist of Japan) and onward until the present, has passed away. Though Karn was best known for his work with Japan, he collaborated with many other artists such as Peter Murphy (post-Bauhaus duo Dali’s Car, which released only one album), Gary Numan (bass on the Dance album), Terry Bozzio (member of Zappa’s band and founder of Missing Persons), and David Torn. Karn was a self-taught master of bass guitar, and did as much to popularize the a fluid style of play on a fretless electric bass as anyone short of Jaco Pastorius.

Not a major name, unknown to most, but this is a very great loss. Mick Karn will be missed by many.

Mick’s alien stage, strongly influenced by Bowie here.

Here he is in the red suit. This is the Oil On Canvas lineup of Japan. Guitarist Rob Dean had been sacked, and Masami Tsuchiya (of Ippu Do, and later contributor to Arcadia’s So Red the Rose) played Dean’s parts.

Here he is with Angie Bowie… not sure why, or what the connection is, other than “I so love your ex-husband’s makeup!”

Later Karn, eyebrows grown back, hair grown long. I think this is somewhere in the later 80s, after Dali’s Car and Dreams of Reason Produce Monsters.

More discussion here on the Hypnos Forum.

OK, so how many “re-posted Runner’s World quote of the day” blog postings can I possibly make? Here’s another. I find it hard to resist this quote, though. It’s instructional for just about anybody with aspirations, goals or dreams. It’s not just about running, or even limited to athletics.

“Champions do not become champions when they win the event, but in the hours, weeks, months and years they spend preparing for it. The victorious performance itself is merely the demonstration of their championship character.”
–T. Alan Armstrong, author

When we see a person succeed, it’s tempting to feel they’ve done something at the crucial, final moment of judgment that determined their success. In truth, if you’re winning an award for your book, or setting a record for your running event, that success it an accumulation. How many years of work and preparation went into building the foundation to make possible that later success? Remember, that person was working very hard without any reward or guarantee of success. If you’re struggling now, remember that the people you see succeeding now went through a period, just like you, of grinding away without approval, without awards, without any outward recognition.

Hard work wouldn’t really be hard if it came with a guarantee of immediate positive feedback, or certain near-term success.

I’d like to get back to posting more planned, focused blog entries soon but my life has been all about scrambling lately, so another scrambled blog post will have to do.

Been rethinking my approach to style and voice in my fiction. Trying out a less formal, more natural voice for the “lake” story I’m finishing up, and also for the next one I’m about to draft. Switching up another WIP from a more detached 3rd person POV to a more internalized 1st person.

Oregon Ducks are ranked #1 for the first time in history, which seems bewilderingly impossible. When I was in college, I never thought the football team would go to a Rose Bowl, and now it’s happened twice. Even after raising the level of success I never expected to see them atop the rankings, even early in the season like this. Tonight, they’ll play their first game as a top-ranked team.

Had some fun last weekend hanging around with Dave T, one of my oldest friends, partner in Viridian Sun (ambient music duo for those blog readers unfamiliar with that my musical activities). Made a great bbq dinner. Listened to Dave’s new solo album, which is very accomplished, and which he’d like to release on Hypnos. We’ll have to hammer out some details to decide if that’ll happen. Watched an unauthorized Depeche Mode documentary which included interviews with Thomas Dolby, Gary Numan, and one of the Spandau Ballet guys. Drank more beer and Fireball cinnamon whiskey than we meant to.

The next day Lena and I went up to Government Camp for a hike. This summer-like weather can’t last much longer, right? Hiked a good dozen miles in the thin air.

Speaking of Hypnos, the new CD release by Italian trio Herion is back from the manufacturer. I need to write up an announcement and start sending out promo copies, plus mail out copies to the artists, and set it up so people can start buying it.

This work week has been a living hell of trying to resurrect computers overrun with malware, and inexplicable network crashes. Lots of the fix-it work has been off-site so I’ve been away from my desk most of the week. Plus, working conditions are cold and dirty out there! Made me miss my desk. Now it’s Thursday morning and I feel like I finally have a chance to look around and figure out what needs to be done.

Last night on the way home, Air Force One zoomed right overhead as I drove down Marine Drive. Those few hundred feet were probably the closest I’ve ever been to a US President. Hundreds of people were lined up all along Marine Drive, with cameras and binoculars, gazing off to the West.