10 TIPS FOR BETTER UNDERSTANDING CREATIVE PEOPLE

If you are not creative but have creative people in your life the following list may help you decipher some of our perceived oddities. If you are a creative person you might recognize some or all of these attributes in yourself and find some comfort in the fact that you're not alone. With a little understanding and compassion we can all happily coexist and even learn from one another. Here are some tips to help better understand us:

1. Absolutely by no means sneak up on us. We are often deep in thought and we are easy to startle.

2. Most of us tend to be empaths (whether we realize it yet it or not). This means we have the ability to be very "in tune" with others and feel their negative and positive emotions. This is confusing to us until we figure it out. Other's emotions tend to easily transfer to us and we can misinterpret them as our own. Because of this it's very important to pay attention to the company you keep. William Gibson's quote (often falsely attributed to Sigmund Freud) comes to mind here, "Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assh*les." Also, we tend to make most of our decisions based on gut feeling instead of intellectualizing as analytical people do. Sometimes this works out, sometimes it doesn't. It's a roll of the dice.

3. We will occasionally have outbursts when ideas come to us or mumble incoherently to ourselves. When this happens please excuse the wild look in our eyes and our scrambling to find some way to quickly record those ideas. We are like channels and when we're in the creative flow complex ideas hit us spontaneously and swirl inside our heads. When this happens we tend to shut everything else out until we record those ideas. If we don't write them down chances are we'll forget them and we're afraid that we might lose them forever.

4. Life can be especially difficult for us. As a creative we're either: 1. working a job that doesn't afford us the chance to use our creativity and satisfying our creative urge on our own time; or 2. pursuing our creative passions as a full time career. Both are equally as challenging. Those of us who fall in the first category usually have money to pay the bills but often have to work the equivalent of two full time jobs. Those creative people brave and smart enough to figure out a way to monetize their passion to the point of making a full time income usually have the stress of trying to financial make ends meet . As James Altucher (The Choose-Yourselfer-and-Chief) explains, finding multiple revenue streams is often the answer. Either way we're very busy folks.

5. We're typically introverts in varying degrees. Even if we truly enjoy and appear comfortable socializing it can sometimes take more energy for us. This is partially attributed to #2 above.

6. It can sometimes be difficult for us to make other, non-creative people, understand how we feel (and vice versa) but it can be done with patience and practice. In my opinion, this is why so many creative people express their feelings and emotions through their chosen art.

7. Most of us creatives are eccentric and rebellious. We feel smothered by routine and conformity. Creative people tend to not follow trends. We see through propaganda and it makes us angry and agitated when we feel someone is trying to control us for their own agenda.

8. We tend to enjoy altered states of consciousness because we quickly learn that achieving these altered states of consciousness can open up our creative channels. Those of us who are lucky discover that through meditation we can achieve this altered state without the outside help of drugs, alcohol or anything external. Meditation is the creative person's best friend, personally and professionally.

9. We need quiet time to devote to our creative passions. Creating is what feeds our souls and we get frustrated and depressed when we don't have the time to do this. Please be respectful of a creative person's privacy when they are creating. If you give them the gift of this time they will be happier in all other aspects of their life.

10. Honest support and feedback is invaluable to us, even if it stings at first. I can only imagine how frustrating and tiring it is for non-creative people when their creative friends and relatives are constantly and enthusiastically sharing their latest idea. It's easy to say you like everything but if the idea stinks, tell us it stinks. You might save us valuable time and give us ideas to polish our idea and make it better.

Pass this along handy guide on to all of your friends, creative and non-creative alike. It's a big world and it takes all kinds. As the French say, "Vive la difference!"

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Eric Vance Walton is a novelist, poet, aspiring world traveler, and tea junkie. He invites you to follow his unfolding story by "liking" his Facebook author page at https://www.facebook.com/EricVanceWaltonAuthor for updates and promotions on his current and upcoming projects. You can find Eric's new book One Word At A Time: Finding Your Way as an Indie Author, on Amazon in print or as an ebook.

Article © 2015 Eric Vance Walton

Soul's Breath

Soul's BreathThe sun's twisted spires

warm all but those who

are huddled deep within

the solemn shadow's grasp even then some find solace

by the mere sight

of its golden glow muse for me is like the sun

once it rises it heals,

shining in all the right places, fear and doubt huddle and squint,

nestled in their dark nooks, 

blinded by brightness this great internal sunrise

creates such lasting Peace

and contentment that you 

can no longer feel smothered by life

muse is the soul's breath,

nothing more, nothing less. ~Eric Vance Walton~

Embrace the Wobble

At this point most of you are already aware of my origin story so I won't delve into the details. For those of you who don't, the short version is I've been writing for twenty years while working a full time job with the goal of someday making my writing my full time gig. For my plan to be successful each day I need to provide value at my day job, produce new writing, promote my writing, try to be the best husband/uncle/son/beagle-papa/friend that I can be, and deal with all of the other responsibilities life thrusts upon me. To make it all work I've honed a juggling act over the years that maximizes the productivity of nearly every minute of every day. I envision each aspect of my life to be like the spoke of a wheel. Most of the time the wheel rolls wonderfully well, that is, until a spoke gets out of balance. When even one spoke is unbalanced the wheel of life begins to wobble. Sometimes the wobble is caused by circumstances beyond our control. I’ll provide a little backstory, my wife and I bought our craftsman-style bungalow at the worst possible time in the Fall of 2007. It just happened to be at the eve of the Housing Crisis of 2008, when real estate prices were at their peak. Lucky us. Like millions of others we were duped to believe the myth concocted by the banks that you would never lose money on real estate. We all have witnessed how that worked out. Two years after the crisis began we owed $60,000 more than the market value of our home but we continued to make the payments. Fast forward to 2015 and the market has come back with a vengeance and we want to get out while the getting’s good. We’ll break even if we’re lucky. For the past few months my wife and I have been working hard to get our house ready to sell and are looking for a new place to live. We want to downsize and find a condo that will be much less expensive and require less time and effort to maintain. These two life events have created such a wobble that the progress in writing my second novel, Truth Is Stranger, has completely ground to a halt. There just aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done. I'm not whining… okay maybe I am whining just a little, but I know I'm not alone. Many creative people find themselves in this same predicament but it can be a stressful and anxiety-inducing way to live. After all, you have this wonderfully creative outlet that fills you with such positive energy and joy but it doesn't yet pay the bills. You have to eat and you don't want to be homeless so as a result your creative endeavor is usually the first thing to suffer when life becomes overly demanding. As a writer, I understand how easy it is to become frustrated and depressed when the demands of life make it so there's no time to write. Being stuck in the wobble makes me feel as though the dream of writing full time gets further out of reach with every revolution of the clock. This is especially true since everyone says it’s not a good idea to wait more than eighteen to twenty-four months between the publishing of your first and second novels. I’m no stranger to the wobble. I’ve been here before and have learned a few things about it that I’d like to share. Following are some tips that I've discovered to survive the wobble unscathed: 1. Be gentle with yourself and with others. During demanding times it's easy to be hard on yourself and those around you. Take a deep breath and release any feelings of guilt for not reaching your goals as fast as you planned. Also, it's important to never become too busy to express gratitude to those in your life who make you happy. 2. Continue to create something every day, even if it's something small. When times are particularly demanding I write haiku on my phone while I'm walking the dog. I've found that whether I'm working on a poem, a blog post, or a novel, the joy that comes from the spark of creation is just as great. 3. Take care of you (both body and mind). Eat right, exercise and get adequate sleep. Your health is your greatest asset. If you have a healthy body it's much easier to have a healthy mind. You need to keep your wits about you during times of wobble. Keep your body in the best shape you can and you'll be surprised what you can accomplish during demanding times. Remember, often times the untrained mind is the weakest link, it will cry "surrender" long before the body does. 4. Meditate. This will help to keep you calm and grounded despite what life throws at you. Meditation also fosters feelings of compassion and altruism even if these feelings are not in your nature. One quick way to forget about your challenges is to help someone else. I’ve been meditating regularly for over twenty years and even a few minutes of meditation per day will cause lasting positive effects in more ways than you can imagine. 5. Trust that the universe is unfolding as it's meant to and look for lessons and opportunities everywhere. Life rarely plays out the way we've planned but we must remember that the journey is half the fun. It's surprising what great lessons the journey has to teach us. We must be flexible and always remain aware to the lessons that are being presented to us. 6. Don't worry that ideas or opportunities will stop. When you truly believe ideas and opportunities come from a limitless place inside of you it helps stifle a lot of the anxiety that comes from the wobble. 7. Continue to promote. Promotion is the one thing you can't stop doing as a writer. Even if this means you need to occasionally recycle old content or post quotes or memes. You have to regularly stay in front of your audience to keep them engaged and coming back. 8. Harvest ideas from everything in your life, even your struggles. Write down ideas, even if you can't immediately act on them. This post is a good example. I reaped a blog post from my the depths of my current wobble. 9. Give yourself permission to say no to those who demand your time. I learned this important lesson from James Altucher, a mentor of mine. He says if requests for your time don’t immediately spark a “Hell Yes!” response from you learn how to politely decline them. This holds true especially during times of wobble when your time is even more precious. 10. Make time for joy and laughter. Both of these things reduce stress and increase your quality of life tremendously. 11. Keep in mind challenging times never last forever, the wobble will end at some point. In my experience challenging times rarely last long. In fact, the wobble seems to end just after you get to a point where you feel as if it never will. As the saying goes, it's always the darkest just before the dawn. 12. No matter what, never stop taking steps toward and believing in your dreams. I’ve lived long enough to realize there’s nothing in life worse than regret and as long as you’re advancing towards your goal each day, even if it’s just a little bit, there is nothing to regret. Be one with the wobble. Learn from it what you can and you will come out stronger on the other side. Stay strong and wobble on! ~Eric Vance Walton~

Copywriting: The Key To Selling Self-Published Books

I’ve seen indie authors who’ve done nearly everything right except for one thing. These authors have poured their hearts and souls into their book projects. Their prose sings. They have an amazing book cover and interior design. They have good editing. Yet too many of these books will never reach their sales potential...[read more]

I'm Sorry Dad, I Don't Want To Be a Welder

I was eighteen years old, had absolutely no life plan, and I was sweating it. I was just weeks out of High School and working as a busboy/dishwasher at The Grill and Skillet diner. This place was gritty, like a diner out of some obscure Hollywood film. Walter, the cook, looked exactly like James Brown. Roaches would drop from inside the range hood right onto the grill. Walter would nonchalantly scrape the roaches away from the home fries into the grease trap without missing a beat. This was extremely hard work, paid nearly nothing but I liked the people there and it was fun when I was still in school. Now that I had my diploma this job lost its luster and it was time to move on to something better. All of a sudden I felt like my life was going nowhere and, even scarier, I had no idea what my next move was going to be. I had two things that interested me, writing and architecture but didn't know how to make a living at either of them.

I was also the first in my family to graduate High School and college didn't seem within my grasp. With each day that passed I sank deeper into this abyss of terror and confusion at the realization that I was now an adult and I had to make my way in the world. My father must’ve keenly noticed the state I was in. One morning, as he was getting ready to leave for work dressed in his chambray work shirt with his first name, “Verlo” stitched in navy blue cursive across the white patch on his chest pocket, he asked what I was planning to do with my future.

My father’s question was met only by my blank stare accompanied by an orchestra of imaginary crickets.

“I could get you on at the shop.” he said.

His offer immediately filled me with a sense of trepidation. My father had been a welder in a machine shop as long as I could remember. He worked extremely long days, came home tired, dirty, and smelling like metal. Some nights he would walk the floors unable to sleep due to the pain of flash burns and metal shavings in his eyes. Despite all of this his job was honorable, it took great skill, and it provided our family with everything we needed and a little extra. His job as a welder allowed my mom not to have to work outside of the home while raising my brother and I.

Even at the age of eighteen I knew I was at a major crossroad. This was a point in which, depending on my choice, a course would be set that would be difficult to veer from. Even though I wasn’t sure what my dreams even were then I knew if I accepted this offer to become a welder it would mean a future with little time or energy to pursue any endeavors outside of this job.

I quickly responded with, “I’m sorry, dad, but I don’t want to be a welder.”

My heart was pounding so hard as he silently left for work that morning. I don’t even remember his response but I do remember being concerned that my answer hurt my father’s feelings. I was worried that he would think I was ashamed of him, that he would view me as ungrateful. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. I just knew in my heart his path wasn't my path. I was destined for something else, not something better but something different.

I am extremely proud of my father. His dad passed away when he was three years old. His mother (my grandmother) was poor and, although she did the best she could, my father found himself being raised off and on in a succession of foster homes throughout the 1940’s. In these foster homes he was subjected to abuse that he’s only briefly talked about. As a result of this he had a difficult time adjusting in school and he eventually dropped out in the eighth grade.

Despite all of the hardship life threw at him my father retained an extremely kind heart and a sense of selflessness. His childhood could have left him a bitter man, with a closed heart but it didn’t. To this day I know he would do anything he could for anyone he cares about, this alone is a monumental accomplishment given his upbringing. There’s much more.

Even with no paternal example to follow he has been a great father to my brother and I. He was always willing to be the first one to go down the biggest sledding hills, ride bikes the fastest, and fly kites the highest. I remember one afternoon we were flying a kite in the field of our neighborhood elementary school, Fairmoor. We had the kite up so high that we could barely see it and ran out of string. What did he do? He went to the store to get two more packages of kite string and we flew it even higher.

I was a very sickly, asthmatic child and he pushed me to my limits and beyond by taking me on twenty mile bike rides, long walks, and hikes when I was not more than nine or ten years old. As a result of this I became strong and fit and eventually rarely needed to use my asthma inhaler. Still today I have a love of bike rides and physical activity.

When my brother and I were growing up dad was the first to rush towards anything that had a hint of danger and fun. Naturally, my brother and I eagerly followed his example. Looking back now I see that our childhood was his second chance to enjoy all the fun he missed out on when he was younger. He made up for a lot of lost time with us.

My father was very strict when he had to be. He wasn’t the kind of dad that taught me how to get into an Ivy League University or the best mutual funds to pick for my 401k. However, his words, more often his actions, taught me everything in life that matters. He taught me to jump into challenges with both feet and to never be afraid to take chances. Dad raised me to always do my best and more importantly to never give up. He also taught us how to be creative, frugal, and how to survive without a safety net because he surely never had one.

My father’s lessons of dedication, strength, and determination have served my brother and I well in life. As I look back throughout my twenty years of struggling as an author, the fire that kept me going was largely stoked by my dad’s lessons. I often think if fate were just a little different and I would’ve had a different kind of father I would’ve given up decades ago. By doing so I would now be living the worst kind of life, a life of regret and I would always have wondered...what if?

Happy Father's Day, Dad! Thank you for the man that you are. You were and are the perfect father for me. Never forget you are loved, you are respected, and you are appreciated.

I promise, just like that kite we flew all those years ago, I will keep this life of mine flying higher and higher, no matter what.

~Eric Vance Walton~

Madison Avenue Marionettes

So spellbound we count

dollars in

our dreams

we chase dollars

while wearing

invisible collars and

strings from our limbs,

dance, dance

Madison Avenue

marionettes

marching to

someone else’s tune,

an ear worm

so cunning

that we swear and

be damned it’s

our own

follow the piper

right into

a self-imposed

prison cell

while all we really have,

this singular moment,

passes forever

from our distracted eyes

not enjoying nearly as

much as we oughta be

while the most

precious commodity

evaporates,

time, our time

become fluent in truth

an incongruent sleuth

you won’t fit their plan

but you’ll be a (wo)man

who still has time...

your time.

~ Eric Vance Walton ~

Walk Your Worries

When you're feeling down,so worn and wound, walk your worries through the rhythm of this city

surrender deeply to its symphony, the whir of tires skimming across rough pavement, the piercing horns of hurried cabs

let the music of the city's many murmurs swallow you so completely that you lay down your burdens

swim in the soup of a million strangers, their soulful cries, lascivious laughs intermingled with the ghosts of countless dreams, painfully beautiful

let the city carry you on its broad shoulders through the coolness of this night and it will cleanse you by the time your feet tire your troubles will be few

this night seems to stretch on forever but in the end morning always comes too soon.

~Eric Vance Walton~

Do you know what you’d like to say to that special someone but can’t find the words?

I would love to help. I’ve been writing poetry for over two decades and have published several books. Google my full name (Eric Vance Walton) and you will see that my individual poems have been published widely in many publications and literary journals.

Through my decades of experience I will insure that the poem we craft together reflects the depth of your caring and love for the recipient. This poem will make an impression that will be remembered always [read more]

Bobos

  As we’re all finding out in countless ways Facebook is a blessing and a curse. Tonight it was a true blessing for me. Let me share with you why...nestled in the comments of a childhood friend’s Facebook post was a word that I hadn’t heard in about thirty years and it is a gem. In fact the term was completely erased from my memory. What was this gem?  Bobo.

It’s funny because back in the seventies bobo (pronounced, boe boe) was a word of shame. Bobo was a derogatory term but it was a shame all of us shouldered. Me, my brother Curt, my friend Sean, and our other friend Shawn all grew up on Elizabeth Avenue in a lower middle class neighborhood on the eastside of Columbus, Ohio. Before any of us had the means to scratch together our own money with paper routes or lawn jobs our parents had to buy our clothes and shoes. None of our parents had a lot of extra money so those shoes were always bobos.

Just incase you aren’t familiar with the term bobo or have forgotten, like I did, bobo was a term for generic, no-name shoes. Bobos never cost more than ten dollars, they sported, “made in Taiwan” on the label, smelled like burning rubber, and were almost always from Kmart. I have to hand it to the Taiwanese, they were inventive.

I suspect the foundation of the entire modern Chinese economy was built by the bobo tycoons of the 1970’s making knock-offs of popular brand shoes like Nike and Adidas. At first glance bobos looked strikingly similar to the popular name brands but had crazy features that were just a little off like an upside down Nike swoosh or four stripes on the Adidas-style shoes instead of three.

When new, bobos were magical. The funny thing about bobos is all of us were convinced that we could run just a little faster and jump higher when our bobos were brand new. This luster wore off in just a few days when they were covered in mud and grass stains. The life span of pair of bobos was way too short, it only took a month before they looked like they had been run over by a herd of buffalo. We would still try to make them last all summer.  Between Curt, Sean, Shawn, and I our parents probably paid for the Taiwanese bobo factory several times over.

In retrospect I think bobos were actually a good thing. Those parents of the seventies were wise because bobos built character. In our neighborhood you weren’t measured by the clothes or the shoes you wore. You were measured by how fast you could run, how high you could jump, or how far could sail off of a flimsy plywood ramp on your BMX bike (sans helmet or knee pads.)

So many children walk around these days with an air of entitlement. I would bet a majority of kids now would refuse to step out their front doors without their smartphones, let alone wearing non-name brand shoes.  Children of the seventies, this is our chance to make a difference in the world. We need only pool our money together, stoke the flames of that Taiwanese shoe factory, and get it churning out bobos again.

Parents, it will be difficult, but we must work together. For this plan to succeed you must refuse to buy your children a pair of name brand shoes ever again. From here on out it’s nothing but bobos until the kids can pay for their own name brand shoes. I have faith that we can stand united and together we will change the world, one child (and one beautiful pair of bobos) at a time.

~Eric Vance Walton~

The Best Way

Thousands of years  reside in each 

of our moments

we are the

derivative of all those 

who came before us

each smile 

they ever smiled,

each mile 

they ever traveled,

each idea 

they ever thought,

each tear 

they ever cried,

every struggle 

they ever fought

you are a link 

in this kinetic chain

that builds upon 

the story of humanity,

one experience at a time

face your fears

live your dreams

fulfill your curiosities

listen to your heart

be your best self

interject yourself

into the narrative of 

the Universe 

this might be 

the best way,

the only way 

to give a proper

thank you to 

the many who lived 

and died for 

you to enjoy 

this very breath.

~Eric Vance Walton~

A Thought Away

Take me  to the deepest places,

the sacred places, 

not of show but of heart,

warm and filled with light

sing me the songs 

that travel with you 

not just of the stone 

that's in your shoe

When I feel your story 

a piece of you 

will walk with me

until you and I are dust 

and then well beyond 

to that great freedom

that we will learn 

was always just 

a thought away.

~Eric Vance Walton~

A DIFFERENT STORY

Until I was eight or nine years old our neighborhood was the kind of place where few people locked their doors. We were all lower middle class and mostly white. We knew almost every family that lived on our street by name.  The neighborhood always felt safe and the threat of violence was totally absent from our minds. In reality we existed in not as much of an oasis as in a bubble.  Our city had already changed outside our imaginary borders but our neighborhood still had only one story.

Life provided a few hints of stories that were different from our own during my days at Fairmoor Elementary School.  Damon came to our school in the first grade. He was the first African-American I can remember meeting in person. Kids would run up to him and ask to touch his hair because the texture was different from their own. Damon was quickly accepted as "one of the guys" when kids realized although he looked different, he was really just like us.

Just a few weeks after the start of the school year the Principal introduced Sivaley (pronounced, civil-lay) to our third grade class. Sivaley was a shy Asian boy who didn't speak a word of English. We discovered he and his family were recent immigrants from war-torn Vietnam. At first Sivaley seemed so foreign to us that he may as well have been from another planet.  He spent the first few weeks quietly taking it all in and drawing tanks and artillery on the blackboard, which were likely the last memories he had of his country.

A few of my friends and I took Sivaley under our wings and made sure he had someone to hang out with during recess. I had a Superball, which was a small rubber ball that would bounce hundreds of feet in the air. This is the first time I remember Sivaley relaxing and attempting to communicate. We connected on a human level. It was as though playing with the ball made him forget everything else that was running through his head. I lost track of him after third grade and often wonder what became of him.

Our neighborhood changed pretty significantly at the start of the 1978-1979 school year. This was the year desegregation began in Columbus, Ohio. I'll never forget when the outcome of the voting was announced on the radio during my summer vacation. That day I sensed a general helplessness and disbelief amongst the adults in my life. It was a done deal, for fourth and fifth grades I would be bused into one of the worst neighborhoods in the entire city. As a child of nine my stomach felt like it was twisted into knots as the end of Summer approached, I was terrified.

The first day of fourth grade I realized it was only a fifteen minute ride to a different world.  Mrs. Love, greeted us with a smile as we boarded her bus, the stereo blasted funk music the entire way to Fair Avenue School.  As we approached the school I saw a neighborhood that was much different from our own.  Houses were boarded up, yards unkempt, and trash littered the streets. The first few days were uncomfortable and were a shock. This was my first immersion in a story different from my own.  It got easier every day.  Although it was uncomfortable at first, I consider the education I received at this school, from the curriculum and otherwise, was among the best I ever have in my life.

By the time I started ninth grade at Eastmoor High School in 1984 our own neighborhood was undergoing a transformation.  It was the golden age of the crack epidemic and gangs from larger cities, including the L.A. Crips, had started to move into the east side of Columbus. Law enforcement wasn't prepared. Our neighborhood fell quickly, seemingly overnight, to become a haven for drug dealing, prostitution, and violence. Everyone who could afford it moved away and we became the minority.

As my teenage years went by I met many different people of many different backgrounds and races. Sometimes it was hard. The lesson I've taken away is people are pretty much people and the only real measure of a person is the content of their character. I appreciate exposure to their various perspectives which have enriched my life in ways that I could never have imagined.

There is a great divide in our country and our world today. This divide exists primarily within the confines of our own minds.  I think possibly the first step to building the bridge to understanding one another is to realize that there is more than one story. Each of us has the opportunity to be both a student and a teacher. Familiarity doesn't always breed contempt, it can also breed compassion. We must teach our stories and learn the stories of others. When we can finally open our minds to this maybe the true healing can begin.

~Eric Vance Walton~

A MOTHER'S LOVE

  It’s been said that you shouldn’t compare your life to the lives of others. I don’t entirely agree with this. Sometimes I think this is the only way you truly can get an accurate measure of some things...like how lucky you are.

I didn’t realize how lucky I was until I was in my thirties. Nearly two decades had passed since my last climb on the jungle gym, my last true swing on the swings or the final time I careened down a playground slide.

After gaining a little of the wisdom that comes trudging blind through the joys, sorrows, and mysteries of adulthood for a few years my eyes began to open a little. Although my childhood wasn’t perfect I began to see how rare and precious it was.

My dad was a welder.  Back in the 1970’s he earned enough money to allow my mom to stay home with my brother and I. One income families were even becoming more rare then. Most of my friend’s parents both worked outside the home. Many of these kids hung out at our house during summer vacation. My mom would make enough PB&J or bologna sandwiches and chicken noodle soup for however many kids were at our table that day.

Despite never having much money my earliest memories are warm, safe, and very loving. I’m thankful that I still remember lots of them. Before my brother was born (we’re 3 ½ years apart) my Mom would load me up in a little red Radio Flyer wagon and pull me up to the neighborhood store. I remember us taking our time on those walks and looking at the birds and the flowers in the spring and the colorful leaves in the fall.

We spent a lot of time together, her and I, we were buddies. She would patiently answer any and all of questions my little brain could generate. In the afternoons there was a small window of time between house cleaning and having to start dinner. Mom and I would watch Sesame Street and Mister Rogers together. She would also read to me from a growing library of Golden Books and the stories of Dr. Suess.

We didn’t have video games or many of the other distractions kids have today.  Sometimes before Sesame Street we would move the dining room chairs in the living room and arrange them in a circle and drape a sheet over top of them, making a pretty amazing fort. We would take an old Quaker Oats container and turn it into a kid-sized bongo drum.

It was during these games of “pretend” I discovered my imagination could take me away from our little 700 square foot house to anywhere I wanted to be. I credit these games of pretend with providing me with the imagination I use now every day to craft fiction, poetry and even these blog posts.

Soon my brother was born and the dynamic of the family changed but Mom taught me how to share and be gentle and patient with him. Soon we became the three amigos and were always together. My brother started to join us on those wagon rides to the neighborhood store.

Now that I’m in my mid-forties I think back to those memories and they seem like they happened lifetimes ago. So many new memories are crammed between then and now. Those early experiences provided me with the bedrock on which I have built my life. 

My Mom taught me to be patient, caring, forgiving, and loving. Thanks to the the gift of that simple and pure childhood my parents gave me I know how survive through the ups and downs of life. I am content with very little in lean times and I fully appreciate abundance when it does come my way.

I’m happy to say that my Mom and I are still best buds. We live almost a thousand miles away but we still talk a few times a day. She is my rock, my personal advisor, my trusted friend. In many significant ways she made me who I am today.  Words could never express the gratitude that I feel towards her but I will try.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your sacrifice, your patience, and giving so freely of yourself. Those early years were so precious. I have found nothing in this world quite like a Mother’s love. Because of you I have felt more than my share of its warmth. I love you always.

Happy Mother’s Day!

~Eric Vance Walton~

YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR

I've liked old things for as long as I can remember. As I child I dreamed of owning an old British MG convertible and gravitated towards Laurel and Hardy, Little Rascals, and black/white films. As I got older this love of old stuff continued and I started collecting vintage watches. The jazz revival in the mid-nineties was fabulous for me because I had already been listening to artists like Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, and Fats Waller for years. With a very few exceptions modern music didn't sound good to me. From the time I was in my late teens until just a few years ago I was consciously unplugged from current pop culture. In my mind I had partially dropped out of modern society. I was protesting a culture that I felt was empty, contrived, and driven by only one thing...making money. Like many people I was guilty of romanticizing the past. I imagined that life that previous generations lived was better, easier, slower, less complicated, and happier. The truth is this just wasn't the case.  

If I ever get to meet Woody Allen I’ll thank him for causing a tremendous shift in perception. A life changing awakening was triggered in me while watching his film, Midnight In Paris. The epiphany I had was this, each generation has its own struggles, stresses, and strife. By unplugging yourself from your current time and longing for the past you miss out on the geniuses of your time.  Another tragic side effect of this is you lose the ability to be conscious of, and enjoy, the moment.

There’s something in our mammalian brains that tends to whitewash memories of past events. Maybe this was originally a mechanism for self-preservation or to foster happiness in old age but now it only impedes our personal growth so it must somehow be put into perspective.  Examine memories of your own past. There are few of us who don’t uncover melancholy feelings about events or situations that were unpleasant or downright unhealthy while we were living through them.  

The Universe is amazing, it provides us with lessons, in real time, nearly every moment of our existence. We can learn valuable lessons from friends, relatives, song lyrics, dreams, even films. The present moment can teach us many things. There’s one caveat, we must be paying attention. Maybe we call it “PAYING attention” because it's hard. It’s difficult to filter out distractions and notice when our own brains are working against us. I know one thing for sure, it’s worth every single effort to try.

~Eric Vance Walton~

JUST SAY YES

It took me over eight years to complete my first novel, Alarm Clock Dawn. Why?  Because I am my own worst enemy. For almost a decade my brain spewed a steady stream of self-doubt, fear,  and hundreds of excuses as to why I couldn't finish the manuscript. I don’t know how to write a novel, I don’t have time, and at least ninety eight more idiotic excuses.But outside influences (mainly the wish to escape a horribly stressful job in which I was working 60-70 hours per week) forced me to push through the self doubt and fear and finish the novel against all odds. The final push came from a friend at a dinner party who jokingly asked me if I finished that novel yet. The day I finished the first draft was one of the best days of my entire life.

I've met a lot of people in my forty-three years on Earth and most humans are their own worst enemies. Something in our DNA seems makes most of us self-saboteurs. It’s so easy and comfortable to give into the self doubt and fear and take no chances. I gave into this way of thought and said no to opportunities for almost twenty years. After a while I simply grew tired of disappointment and disenchanted with failure. I wanted to say yes to life.

Charles Bukowski said, “The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts while the stupid ones are full of confidence.”  It’s sad but true and this one quote explains why our world is in the shape it is. Some of the most intelligent people I know are trapped in a self imposed prison cell they’ve constructed inside their own heads. Their lives become paralyzed in a maze that keeps them in a continuous loop of over thinking.They forget how to listen to their hearts and their intuition.

Finishing my novel taught me one of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned in my whole life. I learned the life we all want lies just on the other side of doubt and fear. Things feel the bleakest just before your big breakthrough. The life of your dreams begins after you say yes. Once you push through to the other side there is no turning back. The adrenaline produced by standing toe to toe with fear becomes addictive. There truly are no limits except for the ones we impose on ourselves.

Once I dipped my toe into the pool of success I began to notice others around me who live their lives by this mantra. Some of these people have overcome great failures. Some have just thought outside of the box of conventional thinking or refused to be pigeonholed into stereotypes.

A few years ago my wife and I took up roller skating. Shortly after we started we met Robert, one of the fastest skaters at the rink. Robert appears to be fifty-five or so but we discovered later he’s nearly seventy. He still rides dirt bikes, break dances, and is a faster skater than people half his age. What is his secret? Good genes might have a little to do with it but even more importantly, Robert says yes to life.

The next time you think of trying something new (and outside your comfort zone) and feel that familiar tinge of fear, simply say yes. The next time the universe presents you with an opportunity that you think you’re not ready for say yes and figure out a way to make it happen. I promise it will get easier the more you do it. You will be amazed at how fast your life will change for the better. This tiny three letter word carries a lot of power.  Just say yes, stand back, and watch the magic happen.

~Eric Vance Walton~

TIME TRAVEL 1.0

A few weeks ago I entered a contest sponsored by Garrison Keillor.  It was called, "Dear You" and the theme was to write a poem in the form of a letter to any living person. I wrote a letter to my 20 year old self.  Unfortunately, I didn't win BUT the act of writing it provided me with some great insights so it wasn't a total loss. Writing this letter was so helpful to me I challenge you to try writing a letter to your 20 year old self and see how much you learn from it.  It was such an amazing (and scary) thing to revisit who I was to realize how much I've grown and where I'd like to take my life from this point forward.

At the advice of James Altucher I'm also going to write a letter to my 106 year old self and will post it soon.

If you try this exercise and feel comfortable sharing it with us please post it on my page!  

Here's my entry:

Dear Twenty-year old Eric:

You are much stronger than you think and in the next twenty years the world will test that strength to the fullest. Life isn’t anything remotely as you imagine it to be now, it’s much tougher and more beautiful than you can know. Don’t believe anything you hear in the news, the history books, or from any government. Be gentle with yourself and others. Celebrate each success. Try not to judge. Everybody feels insecure inside, some people are just better at hiding it.  Don’t worry so much about what others think of you. Tell the truth, especially to yourself.

One day you will switch roles with your parents. Remember all of those times you made your parents worry?  Well, get ready, karma is coming for you. Enjoy each moment, right now it feels like you’ll live forever but time is incredibly short.  Never put your dreams on hold for anyone, you will resent them for it.  Success exists just outside your comfort zone. Cars are a huge waste of time and money. Spend your money on experiences. 

Pay attention to your pets, they are more intelligent than you think they are and have many lessons to teach you in their short lives. Nothing hurts as much as regret. Watch the sunrise at least once a year. Don’t worry so much about your credit score. Say yes to as many things that scare you as you can. Carry a Swiss army knife. Buy internet stock in 1997, sell internet stock before March 10, 2000. Mullets aren’t sexy. Some people aren’t meant to be your friends for life and that’s okay. You will write a novel. Have more fun, worry less about sleep. Buy quality stuff that can be repaired, expensive doesn’t always equate to quality. Net worth doesn’t equal self-worth. Travel and don’t be afraid to get lost.  Talk to strangers. You will get wiser. Really listen to people when they speak instead of thinking what you’ll say next. Dance every single chance you get. Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up. 

Be yourself, always. Do yoga at least three times per week. Don’t eat soy, it’ll give you man boobs. Meditate. Your heart will be broken, you will recover. Watch less television. Butter actually is good for you (I know it sounds crazy!) Learn to trust your instincts.  Although your forehead will be higher, you will not be completely bald by the time you’re forty. You will meet and marry the love of your life. Beagles are incredibly awesome dogs. Write every single day. Travel. Although you will never have biological children of your own will get to experience some of the joys of fatherhood with your stepson. It’s awesome.

I love you, I really do, but I’m so happy that I’m not you anymore, (signed) Forty-three year old Eric

FUN TICKETS

I had a lot of misconceptions in my youth. One of them was that making money was the ultimate goal. I think dispelling this myth was one of my biggest lessons in this life. I started doing regular lawn jobs when I was eight so I always had a little stash of cash on hand. Once I saved for months for a set of walkie-talkies. All I could think about was how cool it would be to be able to talk to someone down the block, wirelessly.  This is commonplace now but in 1979 it was still like magic to an eight year old kid.

The thing I discovered is after a few times of using the walkie talkies is this wasn’t cool at all. They were a burden, you had to buy batteries, my friends fought over them. Really, what did eight year olds have to talk about on walkie-talkies anyway...Saturday morning cartoons? How good looking Daisy Duke was? I quickly discovered that this “thing” didn’t make me happy and I felt robbed.

Fast forward a few decades and I got the bright idea that I wanted to become a writer. I dreamed of having a bestseller and getting that huge advance that would change my life in an instant. I wanted to travel and live the glamorous life. I was an idiot. I worked and I worked for years but that day never came for me. The truth was I was still dreaming of and chasing money instead of it being about the love of the craft, connecting with, and helping others.

Only about seventeen years into my writing career did I change my attitude. Honestly, my spirit was broken by the struggles of this career, I was humbled, and had no ego left.  I found this little book called, Choose Yourself and read it on a flight to Cleveland. This is when it all changed for me. I started writing from a place of love instead of a place of greed and after a while I saw the world with new eyes.

Just yesterday I received the first batch of royalties for my first traditionally published book, One Word At A Time: Finding Your Way as an Indie Author. Although I was incredibly grateful, the experience felt weirdly anticlimactic. The positive feedback I’ve received from indie authors about how the book has helped them provided me with many more sparks of joy than the money.

I had a wise uncle who referred to money as, “fun tickets.”  Only now do I fully fathom what he meant. Money doesn’t buy happiness but what it can provide is a little independence and, yes, a little fun. The happiness you must create yourself.

The days of one book providing you enough “fun tickets” to live on are pretty much gone. Indie authors must hustle and use their ingenuity to dream up multiple revenue streams. Books, consulting, freelancing, speaking engagements.

I’m spending this dreary and cold weekend in a city far from home to visit bookstores and drum up some new readers. My life is far from glamorous but I'm beginning to catch a glimpse of real freedom and what a writer's life is like.

I’m here in a loud hotel lobby in downtown Chicago banging out this blog post. Tired, strung out from getting about four hours sleep the night before and waiting for the hotel staff to have the room ready so I can nap for an hour.

Reality is usually so much different from our dreams. Sometimes it’s even better. I’m writing the best I have in my whole life, I feel completely alive, and am full of hope. This, I couldn’t buy with all of the fun tickets in the world.

~Eric Vance Walton~

THE UPSIDE OF NEGATIVE BOOK REVIEWS

I recently received a one star review on Amazon for my newest book on writing, One Word At A Time: Finding Your Way as an Indie Author. The review read, and I quote, “Sounded like a seventh grader put it together…” The reviewer then proceeded to make the accusation that I attempted to copy Anne Lamott’s iconic book on writing, “Bird by Bird” grinding the proverbial salt to the wound by saying, “He missed by a mile.”How do you even respond to that? The truth is you can’t and you don’t want to.  My emotional cycle played out like this…first comes a few seconds of anger, then a few minutes of shaken confidence, then about ten minutes of worry that it will have a negative effect on the book sales and then, finally, I shrugged it off and moved on.   Not only do you move you, you try to determine if there’s a kernel of constructive criticism that can make you better.   If the negative reviewer reveals something you can work on to make you a better writer they’ve done you a huge favor and you should thank them for their honesty. My big takeaway from this review is apparently not to write like a seventh grader. I’ll try to work on that. 

 Seriously, being an indie affords you countless opportunities to develop a thick skin but the great thing is almost every negative can be turned into a positive. According to James Altucher (whom I respect very deeply) we should strive for a Flesch-Kincaid readability score of three for truly effective writing. A FK score of three translates into third grade level so ideally I need to get to work at reducing this by four grades.  I've said it before, writing is not the profession for the timid or faint of heart. You must be like a gold miner panning for glimmers of shining truth in the river of life. The occasional bad review, can even give your book more legitimacy by showing that it’s not just a bunch of friends and relatives writing reviews for your work.  The truth is not everybody is going to connect with your writing. If you want to become a writer of the caliber that will leave a legacy and be remembered you will probably have as many haters as you have fans. When this happens I will know I’ve truly succeeded at my craft and in life.  ~Eric Vance Walton~

HOW TO FAIL MISERABLY AS A WRITER (or anything else)

It doesn’t matter how good of a writer you think you are, if you can’t figure out how to connect with readers you’re not going to sell anything. Internet marketing for indie authors is especially tough to figure out. Often our budgets are small or even non-existent and the rules are changing often. This is important stuff. If you don’t figure it out eventually you’ll be discouraged enough to give up on your dream. I admit that marketing has never been one of my strong suits. This is one of the reasons it took my writing career so long to take off.  I was that skinny and awkward kid with thick glasses that few things came naturally to. I would practice things hundreds of times until I perfected them. One of the few things I had on my side was persistence. I’m still that same kid inside, only larger, with a few gray hairs, and the nagging thought that time goes far too fast to waste it.

A month ago I tried to make a poached egg.  It ended up looking like egg drop soup. It was terrible. Ten or so attempts and a few YouTube videos later I can make a perfect poached egg. The secret, once I learned it, was like magic and made the process easy.  What is the secret?  Soak the eggs (still in the shell) in white vinegar for five minutes before cracking and boiling them. That was it. Things are incredibly hard until you figure out the secret and then they’re easy. To find success you must have to have the patience and persistence to get to the EASY.

Most of us have heard the quote by William Faulkner, “In writing, you must kill all your darlings.” If a sentence or passage doesn’t work for the good of the overall project you must get rid of it no matter how brilliant you think it is. This is excellent advice but it isn’t easy to do partially because of ego but to a greater degree because of fear that you can’t write something better. To become a successful writer you must subdue your ego and have the confidence to believe that great ideas come from an endless source within you. When you believe this amazing things begin to happen.

The opposite is true as well. The surest way to fail at this is to write from a place of fear or hold on to ineffective ideas. They become bars in an invisible prison cell that will keep you stuck right where you are.

I know this “kill your darlings” philosophy works for writing so I applied it to marketing. Sometimes the entire marketing idea stinks and has to go but sometimes part of it can be saved, retooled to try again. I’m not getting any younger and the books aren’t selling themselves so I’ll only try a retooled idea once. If the idea doesn’t get results it must go to the scrap heap.

Some of you might remember last summer I had a marketing idea that I was super excited about. While traveling I decided to hand out a few copies of my novel, Alarm Clock Dawn, to random people for free.  There was a note inside the front cover asking the recipient to leave me a message on Facebook letting me know what they thought about the book. After they were finished reading it I asked if they would pass the book onto another friend to read and they could do the same, and so on. The whole idea was based on the Pay It Forward philosophy.

It was a hard thing to accept because I was sure it would work but the whole thing fell flat. I waited for months but all I heard were crickets...not a single response from anyone. Ever. I had to accept it and move on to something new and better. All of us are a constant work in progress. Failure is not an option.

Next week I’ll be traveling to Chicago for a long weekend, partially for business but mostly for fun.  I’ll be visiting a few independent bookstores and doing some research for my new novel Truth Is Stranger. Along the way I’m going to try this Pay It Forward marketing idea once more.  It’ll be interesting to see how it works after a few tweaks.  I’ll be updating you all on my experiences throughout this process.

All it really takes in this world to be successful is working through the hard to get to the EASY.  I hope your path to easy is a short one. More importantly, I hope you learn quickly from every misstep along the way. With Gratitude, ~Eric Vance Walton~

The Perfect Pause

I don't promote this book much anymore. It's not because I don't like it but it's already been in print now for a decade and I'm more focused on writing fiction now.  I still believe in it. More importantly, I believe in the incredible power of meditation. A little about this book:

Did you ever wish that life came with a pause button? The secret is that it does!

With three months of dedicated practice and journaling you will learn how meditation can greatly improve the quality of your life by:

• Easing and improving your ability to handle stress. • Allowing you to sleep more restfully. • Teaching you to appreciate the beauty that surrounds you.

The Perfect Pause is a clear, concise meditation guide, and journal that will give you the basic tools necessary to discover life's "pause button". Included in the book is a three-month journal to chart your progress. This comprehensive guide provides a reboot to the rigors of our modern life!

Click here to see a preview and purchase.