Chaos from Within

Plus, writing advice from Flea

I’m sitting in the middle of a mess, looking at virtually everything I own. 

No, we didn’t get booted out of our condo; we’re having work done on the bedrooms. Last week we had new flooring put in and the walls painted in Annie’s room. This week it’s our room.

Our clothes are piled on the couch. There are boxes stacked all over the place. Every single bookcase in the house has been dragged into the living room. One is filled with pictures frames. Another stuffed with scarves. I’m afraid to put anything down because who knows when I’ll see it again. 

Nuvia is on a work trip so I’ve got lots of time for introspection. Am I ever going to wear these pants again? Why did I keep this giant St. Patrick’s Day themed ballpoint pen? What the fuck am I going to do with all these literary journals? 

You know, the important questions.

I have a tendency to hold on to things. What if I need [insert random object] for an art project, I catch myself thinking even though I’ve never made art with glassware, or old toys, or scraps of paper with interesting texture. It’s a problem.

In Forest of Fortune my semi-autobiographical novel set in a fictional Indian casino, I described a character named Pemberton, and I’m paraphrasing here, in the following manner: “He was someone for whom the appearance of order was more important than order itself.” 

That’s me. 

If I have twenty things I don’t know what to do with and can make compelling arguments for keeping them or throwing them away, my solution is to find a nice box, put them all in there, and never think about them again. 

Problem solved. 

Until, of course, the next time I open the box. 

For the last two weeks I’ve been stumbling upon box after box filled with decisions that need to be made, and it’s been exhausting. 

Our place isn’t that big. Nuvia is a visual artist. I’m a writer. So our little condo is stuffed with art and books. We compromise by buying lots of art books and those fuckers are big and heavy. 

I say to myself, Jim, don’t buy any more books. And I say, OK. But then nice people send me books. Lots of times I want those books even if I didn’t know I wanted them, but sometimes I don’t. 

For instance, the children’s division of Harper Collins has been sending me every book they produce. I don’t know why. Three more boxes arrived yesterday. If I’m not careful they’ll end up packed in my closet. Once I have a closet to pack things into, that is. 

The other day, I went to the local used bookstore and traded in some books. As I was leaving, I saw a used copy of Flea’s Acid for the Children, which I absolutely had to have. Since I was using store credit, it wasn’t technically a purchase. More like a trade, right?

A digression: While I was working on My Damage with Keith Morris, I met Flea. Keith introduced me to Flea as his biographer, and I suddenly found myself chatting with Flea about the art of memoir. I was struck by how disinterested he was in the typical rock and roll narrative. “You can write about what happened,” he said dismissively (there were hand gestures involved), “but greatness, it’s really hard. It’s a fucking lot of work!” 

That stuck with me because up until that point I had been fixated on the “writing about what happened” part of the project. Greatness hadn’t occurred to me. I left that encounter with my head buzzing. I just got writing advice from Flea!

The next day I woke up and went to work on My Damage and looked for ways to make the manuscript great, whatever that meant. And guess what? It was a fucking lot of work.

Although greatness has been tarnished by Trump’s nationalism, it remains a fine and lofty ideal. While it’s unrealistic to insist on greatness, and can be damaging it when we expect it of the people we care about, like our children, but shouldn’t we at least go for it? 

I think we should. And so, apparently, does Flea. I don’t know if Acid from the Children is great, but I can’t wait to find out, and when I do I’ll let you know. 

So back to my book problem.

Maybe battle is a better word. If you could see my apartment right now, you would say I’m losing. But in my mind, which doesn’t feel nearly as cluttered as my living quarters right now, the tide has turned. 

I have begun the process of letting go. I have recycled so many old magazines, old drafts of novels, folders of newspaper clippings, articles I’ve saved since grad school. As anyone who has ever opened a large container of their favorite snack, once you give in a little, it gets easier to say, “Fuck it,” and go all the way. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not Marie Kondo-ing the condo. But I’ve started tossing galleys I’ve never managed to get to, books I’ve been carting around since the Bush administration, literary magazines I dutifully subscribed to and never read. I’ve simply put them in another box, a box I will never have to open again because that box is the recycling bin.

It’s magic, really.

I’ve also stumbled upon a lot of magazines that were kind enough to publish my weird little stories, and these I will always treasure. Flop Sweat. Hobart. Canteen. Pindeldyboz. Sweet Fancy Moses. American Journal of Print. 

Did reading those names spark something inside you? If not joy maybe something in a nearby category?

Me too. Let me tell you, it’s been a week of the feels here at Casa Ruland.  

I just finished a new short story last week called “Our Love Cuts Deep.” Once the dust clears (literal, actual dust) I’m going to make into a zine. 

I hope you’ll make a space on your bookshelf for me. 

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Chaos Everywhere

Chaos at AWP. Chaos at the polls. Chaos with the coronavirus.

If you voted in the Democratic primary, thank you for participating in our democracy. Our votes count, probably more than we realize, especially at the local level.  

The chaos continues, for me anyway, with a lot of travel ahead. I’ll be taking a road trip to Northern California for a story. Then I’ll be heading to Virginia to spend time with my family. Then, at the end of the month, Bad Religion’s North American Tour kicks off.

I’m excited to say that this is just the first leg. The band will go to Europe twice this summer and then Bad Religion will tour North America again in September and October. So if you’re bummed Bad Religion isn’t coming to your town this year, hold fast. There’s a lot to be excited about and there will be plenty of news to share in the coming weeks as we inch closer to the release of Do What You Want, which you should pre-order right this very second.

Lit Picks for March 5-11

Here are my recommendations for literary events in Southern California this week. 

Thursday March 5 at 7pm (LA)

James Brown will discuss his new memoir, Apology to the Young Addict, with Patrick O’Neil at Book Soup. I’m not familiar with Brown’s work, but O’Neil is a terrific writer and has lived several lives during his time here on earth. He was a roadie for San Francisco punk bands, including Flipper and the Dead Kennedys, and he served time in San Quentin on an armed robbery charge. He’s a lovely guy and you should check out his memoir Gun, Needle Spoon. 

Friday March 6 at 7pm (LA)

Acclaimed journalist Jerry Mitchell will discuss his new book, Race Against Time: A Reporter Reopens the Unsolved Murder Cases of the Civil Rights Eraat Chevalier’s Books. Here’s what the publisher has to say: “On June 21, 1964, more than twenty Klansmen murdered three civil rights workers. The killings, in what would become known as the ‘Mississippi Burning’ case, were among the most brazen acts of violence during the civil rights movement. It took forty-one years before the mastermind was brought to trial and finally convicted for the three innocent lives he took. If there is one man who helped pave the way for justice, it is investigative reporter Jerry Mitchell.”

Saturday March 7 at 2pm (SD)

Sarah Kozloff will discuss her debut fantasy novel A Queen in Hiding, the first in the Nine Realms series, at Mysterious Galaxy. The other three books in the series will be published a month apart. 

Sunday March 8 at 3pm (LA)

MariNaomi reads from her new graphic novel, Distant Stars, the final volume of the Life on Earth series, with Myriam Gurba at Skylight Books. 

Plan B (LA)

Life’s a Gas: Celebrating Eight Years of Punk Hostage Press at the Ruskin Group Theatre at 6pm. This event will be guest curated by Iris Berry with Jack Grisham, S.A. Griffin, Pleasant Gehman, Annette Cruz, Annette Zilinskas, Dennis Cruz, Michael Marcus, Razor, Rich Ferguson, Richard Modiano, Susan Hayden, and William S. Hayes. Bianca Smith and Blaise Smith pay tribute to Yvonne de la Vega. Music by Mason Summit. $15 admission includes dinner and a dessert

Plan 9 (LA)

The New Short Fiction Series presents: Ocean Park and Other Neighborhoods by Lisa Alvarez at The Federal in North Hollywood at 7pm. This event features dramatic readings from Alvarez’s book by working actors. Click the link for details. 

Tuesday March 10 at 7:30pm (SD)

Peter Heller, the bestselling author The Dog Stars, will sign and discuss the paperback edition of his new novel, The River, at Warwick’s Books. 

Wednesday March 11 at 7:30pm (SD) 

Elizabeth Little will discuss her novel Pretty as a Picture with crime novelist Steph Cha at Warwick’s Books. San Diego is hosting Left Coast Crime conference this year and it runs March 12-15 and there will be lots of fantastic crime writers in town next week. 

Plan B (LA)

Poet and essayist Cathy Park Hong will discuss her book, Minor Feelings: An Asian Reckoning with Maggie Nelson at Book Soup. This seems like a good pairing as Nelson has written numerous nonfiction works that resist easy classification. I’m a little surprised this event is being held at Book Soup, which is tiny. I’d consider arriving early for this one. 

Test print for “Our Love Cuts Deep”