Matt B. Perkins

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The Value of Dirt on the Path

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There is a fear within me of the unknown, a fear of the dark and dirty soil beneath the surface.

Afraid of what I can’t see, what I can’t smell or touch or even conceive.

This is nothing new, of course. Damn near everyone has such a fear on some level, I believe. It undoubtedly is what has fueled some of the best stories of our time (related note: I’m currently reading Stephen King’s It, and holy hot damn, what a book).

Most recently the bulk of my fear has revolved around not knowing if there’s any true value in my words or stories for others. It’s whether or not I can reach the extent of my writing goals and if I do, what the hell happens after that?

Will others read it?

Will they enjoy it? Take value from it? Find inspiration in it? Will they care?

I mean, hopefully, yes. And some will care, some won’t, I get that, I’m fine with that, there’s no reason anyone shouldn’t be fine with that.

But every time I start, every time I lay the pen to page or tap away on the keys, there’s that haunting, nagging son of a bitch in my ear, Fear, laying the way for self doubt.

Still, I’ve realized something. For the longest time I felt the goal was to overcome fear, to be rid of it. To be fearless. No more fear, hands dusted clean, that’s it, thank you, sweet, moving on. 

No. It doesn’t work that way.

Turns out — ha, ha! — FEAR is actually sort of a good thing, and, in an even more twisted way, a friend and a teacher. It’s not here to stop us. It’s here to guide us. And believe it or not, there is a blinding brilliant luminescence behind it.

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The Morning and the Night: Times of Creation

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Photo via Pixabay

I have an enemy and its name is SNOOZE.

That damn button sitting in various forms on my phone, on my alarm clock, on my watch. It’s everywhere — an excuse to postpone, to procrastinate, to get back under the covers for the illusion of more sleep — the illusion of more comfort.

But the snooze button does nothing more than simply allow you to put everything off. I’ve danced with this bastard more times than I care to admit, and still do, on a daily basis. If I’m able to avoid it, get up at my ideal hour of 5 a.m., than I’ve already won the day. Fun fact: this is rare.

Still, I try to face that daily battle against the inner resistance as much as I can. What I do after waking has been a bit of a chaotic mess lately, because I’ve been experimenting on how exactly to start the day. Over the years I’ve become flustered with what to do first thing in the morning. Is it better to write in the morning or at night? Better to meditate or read or exercise?  

There is, however, a cause for this back-and-forth confused mess of an approach, and much of it has been around the notion that there’s an ideal time to do something creative. Some people are night owls, others welcome the morning with open arms. I’ve found that there are elements of both that are prime for creating.

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6 Books That Helped Me Better Understand Myself

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Fair warning: this is not the first, nor will it be the last, piece I write on books. I could write post after post about books, which ones have affected me in which ways, the same way I could about music, and how it all affects my perception of life and the beauty of it.

Here,  though, I’m going to focus on the six books that I’ve read in the past year that have really helped me better understand myself as a person, who I am at my core, how I’ve evolved, how I’m still evolving, and how they’ve made me feel more certain about my place on the creative path forward.

I should note that none of these authors have asked me to write endorsements of their books; I am simply pointing them out because they’ve left a lasting impression on me and have inspired me to move forward with my own goals in writing, running, and in art.  

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Off to Summer Camp (…Sort of)

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Here’s the target: 1,700 words.

Every day.

For 31 days.

(To start, anyway.)

This daily word count rhythm might seem familiar to writers who have given National Novel Writing Month (aka, NaNoWriMo) a go. I have a couple of times over the last few years, most of them a failure (the “winning” year, 2009, resulted in a strange rambling manuscript that now lies in a box in the closet and in a lost folder on my hard drive).

Well, today marks the start of what is known as Camp NaNoWriMo. In essence, it’s the same as NaNoWriMo, yet donning a summer theme (hence the name). The idea behind both efforts is to build habit, routine, consistency, around any particular writing project.

I’m not using this effort to work on a novel. Instead I’m focusing on writing several short stories (four to five by month’s end is the expected outcome). I have several novels in play and on the shelf, but I’m coming back to fiction writing after many stalls and stops, and I want to have my chops down before really attempting the full novel route, so I’m using this effort to write a series of short stories. Writing, to me, is almost parallel to running. Both are incredibly similar in nature. Both require persistence. Both are, at their cores, solo activities (though you can do both in groups; I don’t, at least not at the moment). Both require training and trial-and-error. The key to both is consistency, routine, and developing a rhythm that works for you. (Yes, I’m intentionally being repetitious here.)

For me, this meant starting my running effort slow, trying a few short races (5Ks and a few other road races, one 4-miles and one 5-miles) before moving up to half-marathons, and eventually marathons. So I’m treating the page similarly as I treat the road. Learn the rhythm of the movement in the short race (short story) before going out for the longer marathon (novel).

As to what I’m writing in these stories, I can’t/won’t say. I’m all about sharing, folks, but one thing I don’t intend to share is the idea of what exactly I’m working on until I actually have the idea sprouting and spiraling upward in my head and have it down in some kind of readable format on the page. I’ll tease things along the way, but you’ll have a better idea once I’m done and the final product is there for you to view on whatever medium you choose for the mental-devouring of words. And then you can express your feedback as you see fit. One thing I will say — many, if not all of these stories, will be of the horror/sci-fi/supernatural element. I don’t really want to pigeonhole myself into writing for a particular genre, but that is my thinking at this point. Things could change, of course.

Daily word counts will be tracked in two places — my personal logbook (I’m still a big fan of writing longhand, you see), and on social media, particularly Twitter and Ello. I’ll provide more in-depth updates in forthcoming posts.

If you’re also taking part in this effort, feel free to weigh in or say hi, and all the best to you in your writing . . . here’s to keeping the rhythm going.

CHEERS!

Notes from The Run Log, Part 1: The First Month

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The last month has been interesting.

I revamped a bit of a running routine, running six days a week, all in the early- or mid-morning hours, mostly. This is part of an ongoing effort on my part to re-spark some long-desired habits of self-care and creativity.FullSizeRender

Let me be clear, though, that I’m not announcing or detailing any kind of “plans” I have in place for running or any kind of habit change moving forward, for two reasons:

  • I’ve done this many, many times before, and every time I do announce that I’m planning on doing something, I seem to not follow through with anything I publicly commit to, so while I do have some intentions in terms of what I’m going to be doing moving forward (in terms of running, writing, what I’ll be doing with this site, etc.), I’m keeping them on the old shelves of the mind and will happily relay some of the results here.
  • Regarding the above, I’ve read that research shows announcing goals can be counterproductive to actually carrying them out.

All that said, one thing I am trying out now is rehashing notes from my daily running log, a small blank notebook with cardboard-style covers, with the contents of the first month’s efforts transcribed below. This is a bit of a look at where I am and where I’m going in regards to my running journey – and most of this is sort-of starting from scratch after several months of lying rather dormant, the result of a slight injury (what I believe was ITBS, given the symptoms, though through rest and recent exercises this seems to be subsiding, thankfully) from poor training for my first half marathon I ran back in October.

I’ve committed to another upcoming half-marathon (details to come on that later), but I’m trying to see where the daily log of this will go. Before we begin, let me also clarify that I’ve intentionally kept mileage during the past month low.

Really low. Painstakingly low. Embarrassingly low.

Why? Because my goal this round was not to see how fast or how far I could run, it was how often I could run and if I could do it consistently. This was all about re-forming the habit. Following this will certainly follow-up notes as I move through the next 12 weeks of training.

For now, here’s Part 1 . . .

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The Winter Ride

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The following is a work of fiction.

Frost caked the plastic of the headlights, and the jagged beams cut through the static of the night.

It was winter, the deepest of it, and the two of them entered into the heart of the north, the bleeding sun behind them now, as they moved on the salt-laden road.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

This from Arthur Snow, at the wheel, coffee in left hand, still hot in the thermos, which surprised him. The label on it said Hot Up to 9 Hrs. It made true on its word.

“What?”

This from Derek, the younger one by three years. No coffee for him, only the fizzling head of a fresh-cracked can. [Read more…] about The Winter Ride