Writing and Being

Change is perhaps the only constant. And resistance to it is about as useful as an expired passport.

The world is changing / has changed more in the last 10 years than anyone thought possible. True, we are still not living on the moon, not traveling by teleportation, and don’t have devices not much bigger than a credit card which connect us to everyone and everything instantly, putting at our finger tips more information and more entertainment than most people collected in their entire lives not a decade ago. Oh wait, we do have the last thing, it’s called an iPhone.

There is not a single thing that exists that doesn’t have at least one upside and one downside. Technology is no different. Right now, musicians and writers – and those who represent them, promote them, and distribute their art — are trying to find some middle ground on which to walk between these sides. Because the upside to technology is that these artists can reach infinitely more people than ever before. The downside is that most of these people being reached want their art for free. As well as their news.

It has been widely reiterated that “information wants to be free.” Apparently less widely known is the accompanying statement, “information wants to be expensive.” If all information is free, then pretty soon, there won’t be any new information. At least none that is worth observing or absorbing. Furthermore, there won’t be any reliable – not to mention instantaneous, real-time — vehicle to get it to anyone.

Or we will live in a world where only the independently wealthy will be able to produce information, music, novels, news. But that doesn’t seem very likely, especially since Madoff stole a lot of those people’s money already.

But I digress. My point is that eventually we will find the middle road. Musicians, along with the music industry, will stumble upon the model that works best for everyone. Writers, readers, agents, distributors and the rest of the publishing industry with do the same. One thing appears certain, when the meeting of the five families is called, technology is going to have a seat at the table, maybe even the head.

What then, is a writer to do in the meantime? Format those manuscripts for ebooks. That’s what. Starting today, Waking Up at Rembrandt’s is available on Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=waking+up+at+rembrandt  (And in case you had to ask, there’s a Kindle app for the iPhone.) Go ahead, download away.

Change is good. Because the other option…

Namaste,
TQ

For an NPR junkie like me, this is very cool.  How many times did we hear Garrison Keillor mention AbeBooks during the Writer’s Almanac every morning?  And now, anyone can go to http://AbeBooks.com and type in either my name or Waking Up at Rembrandt’s and up comes images of the book for you to buy. 

While I buy (and browse) at local, independent shops whenever I can, I think it is a good idea to support booksellers who support NPR and the Writer’s Almanac (which is almost as important to my morning as a good espresso).  And I have used AbeBooks a number of times.  After all, I can browse their whole selection at home, in my pj’s, by the fire.  Technically, I don’t even have to wear pants.  Though sitting in front of a computer without pants is bound to raise some eyebrows.  Second thought, just pull on the pj’s if you do this at home. 

I didn’t (and I still don’t) mean this to be some kind of advertisement for AbeBooks, though perhaps it is an endorsement of sorts.  I just like the up-side of technology.  And also the finding of myself in the middle of it.  And I’d like to believe that if I’m good enough for AbeBooks, I might just be good enough for the Writer’s Almanac.  Because really, then I can die. 

In the meantime, being on AbeBooks is something to celebrate.  Which got me thinking about other Almanac sponsors.  Turns out, Waking Up at Rembrandt’s is on Powell’s Books as well.  Next stop, the Poetry Foundation.

Namaste,

TQ

Here’s a little Q & A with the Reno News & Review’s Brian Burghart. You can find this on the Interviews page on this website, but I thought it would make it easy, and make a good record, to post future interviews and reviews here as well. A little different angle than ususal: http://www.newsreview.com/reno/content?oid=1332361

Namaste and Happy Holidays to everyone! Thank you for your support. Thank you for continuing to make time to stop by here and read.

TQ

I beat myself up.  A lot.

I want to be better at things.  Like life.  I want to be a better father, partner, writer, lawyer, human being.  I want to stay in the present more, be more conscious, make better choices, let go of jealousy, envy, judgment, side-taking.  Walk my talk more often, and manifest my perfect life, here and now, not someday.

I want to be more efficient, more effective, and more prosperous.  I want to give more, to be less selfish, and to be able to do so while still standing my ground and holding my space. 

I guess what I am saying is that I want to figure things out.  I want to live as an example.  And I am conscious of the fact that by having and expressing all these wants, I am perhaps preventing these things from naturally and easily coming my way.

You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.  That’s what Camus said. 

Maybe we have the wrong idea of perfection.  Maybe the world — in all its perceived imperfection — is exactly as it should be.  Maybe then, the same goes for me.

What does this mean, then?  Was Camus saying to us, why don’t you just give up?  The world is a fucked up place and you mirror the world and it mirrors you and there is nothing that can be done.  You will both go on being fucked up so you might as well just settle in and stop thinking so much.  Is that the take-away?

Well, I suppose it could be.  It would certainly take a lot of pressure off.  And I probably wouldn’t get so mad watching clips of Fox News that way.  But I suspect that was not his intended point. 

It occurs to me that a river is — often — a good metaphor.  Humans spent a lot of time, money, and brain power over the previous century trying to understand rivers and to apply that knowledge to re-engineering them, in order to harness their energy and resources.  What resulted has been a lot of trouble, much of it in the form of floods, dead species of plants and animals, and poisoned water.  We are now having to spend ten times as much trying to undo what our brilliant minds once thought up. 

It is helpful to have tools.  It is helpful to study what we know of philosophy, science, world religions, mythology, and the origins of the universe, for example.  When looking for a mate, it is helpful to know what kind of person suits you.  When selling a book, one needs a marketing plan.  When planning a trip, some familiarity in the culture and language are helpful.  But, taking the last example, a too-carefully-planned adventure is no adventure at all.  As a teacher once told me, standing on the banks of the river and considering its flow is one thing, but it is not at all the same thing as jumping in.

When you are in the river, you take things as they come.  And it is better to be relaxed and to pay attention to where you are than to ponder why you are there.

Namaste,

TQ

I recently did an interview on KUNR’s Community Voices: http://www.publicbroadcasting.net/kunr/news.newsmain/article/6006/0/1578536/Community.Voices/Hooked.and.the.Reno.Phil(interview with TLQ starts at 3:40, so you can fast forward if you want. It is about 13 minutes long.) Feel free to share the link if you like what you hear…

Namaste,

TQ

Wake Up and Read, Reno!

I’m giving away a book a day in November to give back to the community for granting me Best Novelist honors two years in a row.  It is also my way of encouraging you to take time to curl up and read more this winter.  Check out the info below for details on how to play!

WHAT: Reno author, Thomas Lloyd Qualls, is declaring November “Wake Up and Read - Read and Wake Up” month and giving away one copy of his debut novel, Waking Up at Rembrandt’s, every day during the entire month in a campaign to get people as excited about reading as he is about writing. The campaign includes participation by local stores Sundance Books, Zephyr Books, Dharma Books, The Melting Pot, Grassroots Books, The Hub Coffee Co., and The Nevada Store.

*The first person to visit these stores on their designated “giveaway days” and to mention the Wake Up and Read campaign will receive a free copy of Qualls’ novel. Some stores will also be offering specials and discounts for all people who visit on the store’s “giveaway days” and mention the campaign, even if they’re not the day’s winner.

WHEN/WHERE:

*Participating locations below. Check out their special offers/discounts too!

Sundance Bookstore – November 1st through 4th

Dharma Books – November 5th through 8th (Special 10% off anything in the store for anyone who mentions the promotion during these days!)

Zephyr Books—November 9th through 12th

Waking Up at Rembrandt’s on Facebook – November 13th through 15th

The Nevada Store – November 16th through 18th (Special of 15% off all copies of Waking Up at Rembrandt’s purchased by anyone during these dates!)

The Melting Pot – November 19th through 22nd

Grassroots Books – November 23rd through 25th (Check out paperbacks for $0.99-$1.99; hardcovers for $2.99, kids books for $0.99, audiobooks for $2.99, VHS for $0.99 and DVD’s for $3.99 or 3 for $9.99)

The Hub Coffee Co. – November 27th through 30th (Get $0.50 off any coffee drink when you mention the Read and Wake Up Promo during these days!)

FOR MORE INFO CONTACT: Kaity Ocean, kaityocean@att.net or 775.787.9257

I have a friend who is living in LA and trying to make a living as an artist/actress/writer. She’s living the all-too-common experience of working crap jobs while trying to keep her dream alive. Which just adds to the frustration, because who really ever wants to be a cliché. Especially when it comes to your dreams.

She is standing in one world in order to pay the rent and eat, while trying to get at least one foot planted in the other. It isn’t that she doesn’t have the required courage to make the leap: she regularly jumps into the water to navigate her way across, but inevitably hits an eddy of some sort that throws her back to the shore she came from. It isn’t that she lacks depth, either: she has plenty of real life experience to make herself interesting (she lived in a commune until age 7, she was directing plays by age 21, and now she’s a bartender in LA, for starters). Nor is she unrealistic about her talent (she has plenty) or the odds of making it (if any artist thought too much about this, there’d be no art).

She’s sized up the river as many ways as she can think of, but can’t get across. And she’s starting to wonder if she has the fortitude to keep trying. Or if it’s even worth it. Worse still, she’s looking down the road at what happens if she’s still doing this in ten years. Or twenty.

For all of us who have, are, or will wrestle this same oily snake, there’s also the problem of how to stay present while working towards a dream. How do we live where we are, how do we stand in the world we’re in, while always looking across the river? And at some point, we’re bound to doubt everything we’re about. We can’t help but eventually look ourselves in the mirror and think: You are a joke. Stop it already. Grow up for fuck’s sake. If you were going to make it, you would have. In the meantime, you’re wasting your life wishing you were somewhere else.

Here’s the deal. This life is about bridging worlds. And not just in this way. The whole universe is made up of energy and matter. And the bridging of the two. Life happens when they meet. Literally.

The whole point of this website, as well as virtually every word I scribble down — electronically or on a wadded up post it that’s been living in my pocket for days — is also to bridge worlds. Between the genres. Between the sensual and the spiritual. Between dogma and apathy. Between poetry and fiction. Between the sap and the rough cut. Between whatever place the words come from into some sort of form that will get them read in this world. Between the unpublished and the published. Between the unknown and the mainstream. Between the unheard and the podcast. And between the I wish I were and the I am.

So instead of banging our heads against the walls, contemplating walking into a tree shredder, or falling into a prolonged, deep, boozy, coma, we need to know – not intellectualize, parrot, or hope, but know — that this is what we are doing. We are playing God. Whether we know it or not. We are bringing together particles and waves. We are bridging the worlds. And sometimes a bridge takes a really long time to build. Especially a good one.

For love and money,

TQ

Henry David Thoreau famously said, “Simplify, simplify, simplify.”  And a friend once said to me, “Shouldn’t he have just said, Simplify?”  I believe this is called irony.  This point is this:  Even when you think you are simplifying your life, you probably aren’t.

It is Spring and several weeks ago I embarked upon the seasonally appropriate purge and clean.  My house is filled with what seems like endless clutter, clothes I don’t wear, and stacks of Runner’s World and New Yorkers I’ll never go back and read.  I got myself into the requisite unsentimental mindset and set out to simplify my world.  But every direction I took ended up in an eddy of some kind.  Have to try on the clothes to see what fits and what looks out of date.  Have to sort through the old notes and photos to see what I can’t let go of just yet.  Have to sort the New Yorkers and save the ones with the David Sedaris articles.  Have to put this book in this room, that one over there.  Have to find the camera to take the pictures of these things so they can be uploaded and then listed on craigslist… You get the point.

This is the story of modern life.  First there was the microwave, then the personal computer and the wireless phone.  Then came the laptop and the car phone.  Now Facebook and Twitter are right on our cell phones.  And we can never rest again.

I’ve set out on this journey of self-publishing and promotion with Waking Up at Rembrandt’s because I want to explore what can be done with these new technologies of viral networking and print on demand, among others.  Unlike most aspiring writers, I had a literary agent almost as soon as I had a finished manuscript.  And I thought it would all be that, well, simple.  But one year, two rounds of submissions to publishers, and an endless amount of waiting in the dark later, I cut the rope. 

For most of us, the world of the big publishing houses still exists behind hundred-feet-tall castle walls, surrounded by a moat.  The publishing world is changing, though, and I want to be a part of this new world.  Actually, as is my aim with my writing, I want to bridge the worlds.    

I believe the things we create on this earth plane are metaphors for the way things already are in the invisible realm.  Like cell phones and the wireless internet, connecting us in ways we are already invisibly connected, but haven’t fully realized.  I also believe in synchronicity, in magically ending up in the right place at the right time.  I am banking on the upside of technology — the ability to reach exponentially more people through online networking, for instance, than I could on my own – to make up for the fact that since joining the ranks of the mobile Facebook crowd, my life is anything but simple.

In the meantime, if you like what you read here, share it with a friend.

Namaste,

TQ

I have said that love is a word.
More than that, a word is love.
Actually, the word is love.

If love is all you need
and all you need is love
and love is all there is
and all there is is love,

Then love and the word are one.
Then you are love and I am love
and we are both words.

Put another way,
in the beginning was the word,
the source, the order of all things.

A word is logos, logic, reason.
The creative principle at work.
The reason for being.

Call it what you will,
Tao, Yahweh, or Lamb,
It may not come at your beckon.

It may not sit still for photographs
hand out its autograph,
Or draw you a sketch for a tattoo.

You don’t understand it or own it
just because you write its name
in your notebook.

Not because it is bitchy or complicated,
stuck up or overeducated,
flaky or playing hard to get.

It simply wants you to
to understand that it is
a metaphor, just like you.