Steven M. Finkelstein

For those who have become regular viewers of the blog, it should be no surprise that I am an ardent fiction reader. It’s one of the things in my life that I do, I should say, religiously. I think the comparison is very apt, because for those who are particularly pious, and spent inordinate amounts of time in churches, synagogues, or other “holy” buildings dedicated to the purpose, I spend an equal amount of time with my nose buried in a book. I find that the amount I read fluctuates, somewhat, but I always return to it, as a leisure activity, and as something else, too…I remember being told once by a professor that as a writer, the first thing that you must do is write, but the second thing you must do is read. You read for enjoyment, but also to sharpen your own writing…I no longer find it possible to read anything without being at least slightly analytical about it, but I don’t think it effects my enjoyment of the material to any great extent, and I’m glad of that. I would hate it if I no longer took joy in my favorite fiction because I was too busy dissecting it all the time.

Of course, I’m a poor, poor man, so whenever there’s a library nearby, there’s going to be a virtually infinite amount of entertainment to be had there, free entertainment, no less. One of the few saving graces of where I’ve been living for the past few months is the presence of a library within biking distance. Now, New York, where I plan on moving in a couple of months, boasts some of the finest libraries in the nation, and I can’t wait to start checking some of those out, though there are also some of the country’s better used book stores, where I may be able to start rebuilding a badly depleted book collection. I was forced to sell everything of mine that I could bear to part with, again, because of my poorness. It just seems like, at a time when I’m struggling financially, I’m looking to fiction a great deal for the escapism it provides, though, to be fair, I’ve done it, as I said, off and on for most of my life. That has been a constant, I think, between my childhood and my adulthood, one of the bridges between them: a love of fiction, and the world created by a good book.

How often have I spent time in those worlds, and how much better they have suited me than the reality that I’ve been forced to accept! There’s so much that I’ve been unsatisfied with in my life, and to be able to get away from it, for a time, through the printed word, is such a pleasurable undertaking…should it be possible to leave the world behind that I understand to be “real,” and to vanish into the superior world of the printed page…given the opportunity, I would take it, instantly, no questions asked. What I’m talking about, I think, is a popular fantasy for young people, most often contemplated, probably, while sitting in the back of the room during math class, but hey, if that means that I haven’t progressed very far beyond a juvenile mindset, I have no problem with that. It’s good to be young at heart, and I hope I stay that way, always. When I was younger, the worlds to which I most often fantasized about traveling were some of the stereotypical childhood favorites:  Treasure Island, The Pippi Longstocking books (Pippi was magical, and I wanted to meet her), James Howe’s Bunnicula series, and, of course, Brian Jaques’ Redwall series. Who wouldn’t want to have adventures with a group of noble mice and other woodland creatures, adorable, yet armed to the teeth and ready to instantly defend their homes from villainous vermin marauders? But the land that I wanted to escape to, more than any other, the place that I spent the most amount of time, in my mind, the place that even now, I would give anything to cross over to, is Middle Earth, the concept created by that eccentric genius, greatest of fantasy writers, J.R.R. Tolkien.

When I think of everything that’s wrong with my life- the mediocrity, the necessary focus on things that seem so trivial to me, in the grand scheme, though I am forced to keep paying attention to them anyway…rent, bills, traffic, annoying people…that’s when I wish I could open The Hobbit, or the Holy Trilogy, and just…slip away. Blink out, like a candle, and go to a place that in my heart of hearts, I know I could always belong. Tolkien’s world always appealed to me because there’s a medieval flavor to it, first and foremost, and I was always fascinated by knights and feudal times. But his world is one of medieval times where dragons and other monsters were a reality. Of course, the real world of kings and knights didn’t also feature hobbits, giant spiders, Wargs, goblins, rangers descended from noble lineage, elves, and a slew of other fantastical creatures, and that’s what made this world so perfect; it was that time period, but all the legends were real. When I think of the different roles I could fill…a hobbit, so peaceable, down-to-earth creatures, thinking only of food, shelter, and a good pipe after dinner, lovers, not fighters…and yet possessing of inner strength capable of literally, as in the trilogy, saving the world. A dwarf, hardened warriors, but always proving themselves capable of noble acts that overcame their greed. Or a wizard, of course, mysterious yet kindly, the most critical tenders of the landscape, watchful for the uprising of evil, that they alone have the power to quell…yet they appear only as frail old men, cloaked, leaning on their staffs. There is a quest around every corner, and each one is for a noble cause; it will have twists and turns along the way, there will be darkness, pain, hardship, but all will come out right in the end. My kind of place.

There, my daily jaunts could include a battle against some grotesque foes, evil incarnate, some hiking around in a beautiful landscape, or feasting in a woodland hall among a cast of compelling characters. Good and evil are clearly defined. Here, my day presents challenges, but they are of an exceedingly mundane variety. The only evil I see are obese Southerners with indecipherable accents, coworkers who despite being older than me, act like they’re still in high school, and smog. These aren’t noble challenges to be overcome. They’re drains on my soul that try to murder the creative impulse, tax the spirit, dull the wits. Even if I’m leaving, there are always going to be similar distractions in this world, the “real” world. It’s inescapable. Or is it? I’m not talking about escape through fantasy here. I don’t believe that everything in this world is the way that it’s going to be, and that’s all there is, through all eternity, forever and ever amen, or at least till death. Just because my wishing hasn’t transported me through the pages to Tolkien’s world, or another of my choosing, doesn’t mean it can’t happen. It must simply mean I haven’t tried hard enough yet. Well, I’ll keep trying. They can’t stop me from doing that. And some day, if I disappear without a trace, and they’re searching for signs of me, I’d recommend looking through the books in the house, scouring the pages…because maybe you’ll find another character where there never was one before, and damned if he might not sound a little bit like me.

So, summer is rapidly approaching, and you know what that means: Hollywood studios are going to be vying for my hard-earned dollars, as I must choose between the many explosion-riddled, special effects laden options. Will I opt for mutants with adamantium-laced bones, coming-of-age magicians with chiseled features, or killer robots from the future that (I can only assume) Christian Bale will demoralize with an expletive ridden tirade? For the answers to these and similar inane questions, read on…

May 1st: X-Men Origins: Wolverine: wow, that’s a lot of colons. Yes, I will be seeing this movie. I like Hugh Jackman as Wolvie. It took a couple X-Men movies to convince me, but the cast of characters that’s backing him up here: Gambit, Blob, White Queen, Wraith, Deadpool, Sabertooth, and Silver Fox…are more than enough for me to fork over my five dollars (matinee price) or eight dollars (date night price). Of course, I’ll be in New York in a couple of months, and then it’s more like eight and twelve dollars, respectively.

May 8th: Star Trek: I’m kind of on the fence with this one. I like the Star Trek movies, especially Wrath of Khan, with the creepy earwhigs, but I’m not exactly what you’d call a “Trekkie.” Or Trecker, whatever the hell they go by. I’m a nerd, I’ll admit. I go to comic conventions, but I go there to buy comics. I don’t go in costume and try to speak to the other freaks in Klingon. Normally I’m not judgemental when it comes to things like this, but there’s got to be a limit, people. In this new revamped version, everybody is all young and sexy, but it’s also produced by J.J. Abrams, and I just never got into Lost. I did see Cloverfield on D.V.D., and it’s decent, if not as good as most people thought it was. I’ll wait for the reviews on this on.

May 15th: Angels and Demons: no, I’m good, thank you. Next.

May 21st: Terminator Salvation: again with the colons. What I think is funniest about this series is that time keeps passing and they have to continue changing the story to revise when Armageddon is actually happening. Terminator 3 was, well, not great. It was PG13, for one thing, and that pretty much ruined it, plus they couldn’t get James Cameron back, which didn’t help either, and then they’d waited about ten years too long and Arnold was about 103 years old, so, all around, watchable, but not really noteworthy. Will this be a successful reboot of the series? I honestly don’t know whether I want it to succeed or fail. By now everyone’s seen the infamous video with Christian Bale screaming at that poor schmuck who walked into the shot, pretty much revealing that he’s a douche-bag, but honestly, who couldn’t have predicted that anyway? He’s a movie star, for God’s sake. They’re all like that. Once again, I’m going to have to let the critics decide. If the majority of them say it’s worth seeing, I’ll probably check it out. It’s got, you know, robots and explosions and stuff. 

May 29th: Drag Me To Hell: ah, it’s good to see Sam Raimi take a break from directing Spiderman related material and get back to what brought him to the dance in the first place: horror. Graphic, ridiculous, glorious horror, as this promises to be. This one is flying under the radar, but then, all of Raimi’s horror has. The Evil Dead trilogy is the horror Godfather, as far as I’m concerned, and even if this one doesn’t do well in theaters (it won’t), I’ll still be there.

June 24th: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen: no, not a chance. I don’t care how much money the first one made, it sucked my ass. Shia Labouf is the Antichrist. He ruined Indiana Jones. And Micheal Bay couldn’t direct his way out of a paper bag. Him and Spielberg, man, what a circle jerk.

July 1st: Public Enemies: yes, yes, yes. Although it does feature the dubious Mr. Bale again, it also features the marvelous Mr. Depp, who’s one of the best actors of this generation, even when he’s not mincing around dressed like a pirate. And it’s directed by Michael Mann, who seldom takes many missteps, except possibly for Miami Vice. Can’t win em all, I guess.   

July 15th: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince: again, yes, I’ll be there. Even were it not for the fact that this movie was coming out two days before my birthday, I’ve read most of the series (I haven’t got around to reading the last one yet, but I’ve been busy, so sue me).  I have seen all the movies to date, though, and I must say, for the most part, they’ve gotten consistently better. The first two Chris Columbus directed outings were a little…um, Disneyish, I guess is the word I’m looking for, but they’ve gotten consistently darker and more brooding as the series goes on, which is as it should be, as Hermione has been developing, and Harry has been discovering new and better uses for his wand. Count me in.

August 7th: G.I.Joe: The Rise of Cobra: more colons. This outing has been a long time coming, ever since Transformers cemented the possible success of the toy/cartoon series made into big budget live action movie formula. It was also directed by Stephen Sommers, whose stuff I usually like. I didn’t mind the Mummy movies, particularly the first one, when the idea and effects were still relatively fresh, and I also thought Van Helsing was underrated. I’ll be seeing this one, even if it’s just for nostalgic reasons. How can I not? I had every G.I. Joe, man. Especially the ones with the Kung-Fu grip.  

August 21st: Inglorious Basterds: more inexplicable misspellings. I used to be fond of telling people that Tarantino had never made a bad movie. Even Jackie Brown, which I thought was perfectly watchable. Then he made Death Proof, his half of the Grindhouse double feature along with Planet Terror. I don’t care if it was supposed to be campy, or exploitative, or whatever it was he was going for; that was unwatchable, and it was his first major misstep. This is his opportunity to redeem himself. Will he? Who knows. I’ll probably wait for the critics on this one too, although since this is kind of the end-of-summer pic that rounds out the set, chances are I’ll make my way in there.

And there you have it. There’s others coming out that I don’t feel are noteworthy enough to mention, but I think I’ve covered the major food groups. I think we’ve determined that I’ll have to get to the theater just about every weekend in May, which will be a real pain in the ass, especially with work and relationships with friends and loved ones to worry about. And all of this movie watching is really going to eat into my television time. Damn you, Hollywood. Why must you be so tantalizing?

Well, spring is well and truly upon us. It’s been a long winter for Megan and myself. I was alone for Thanksgiving for the first time in my life. I was able to be in Cincinnati with the family for the first night of Hannukah, which was nice, and I was back here with Megan for Christmas. The fact is, though, that we’ve been counting the days till we could get out of here more or less since we first arrived, and discovered the limitations that living in a resort community of this type has imposed on us. But time passes, as it always does, and we are finally coming close to moving on.

I think I can now say with some degree of confidence that we are moving to New York. All of our efforts and energies are geared toward it, and while we do have Rochester as a backup, it’s somewhere in the periphery. We’ve booked a rental car for the first week of June to take us to New York, and while we’re there, we’ll be both job and apartment hunting. Ideally, we’re looking to land jobs and sign a lease while we’re there, but even if all we have are job prospects, we may end up signing a lease anyway. We’re both working six days a week right now so that hopefully we’ll have a little money saved up for when we get there.

Here’s the updated list of my travel plans for the next few weeks. I’ll be in Los Angeles for Ann’s graduation from Thursday, May 14th through Monday the 18th. I’ll be in Pittsburgh for Jackie’s wedding from Thursday the 28th through Sunday the 31st, and then I’ll be in New York from Thursday, June 4th, through Tuesday the 9th. The weekend of the 6th and 7th, Megan has gotten into the Renegade Craft Show in Brooklyn, so if anyone wants to take a hands on approach to helping us get to New York, you can do so by stopping by and purchasing some of her fine products. Full details are available on her website, www.metropolisbody.com. It’s going to be a hectic few weeks, but hopefully it will be culminating in our moving to New York at the end of June. Of course, I’ll keep posting updates here on the site as they become available.

While I’m at it, here’s an update on the various publications and sites that my work is supposed to be featured in over the next couple of months. The erotica story that was accepted by Three Pillows is supposed to be appearing there sometime this month or next month. I don’t know more specifically than that, but in any case, keep in mind that that’s a pay only site, so you’d need to become a member if you want to read that story. Next month, I’m supposed to have another piece of erotica featured on the website Oysters and Chocolate, and that’s a free site, so by all means, check it out. Also next month, I’m supposed to have two “legitimate” fiction stories featured in Perceptions, the print publication that is produced by Portland’s Mount Hood Community College. If you live in the area, you can try to get your hands on one. Finally, in June I’m having a story published in the anthology Patchwork Path: Dad’s Bowtie, a collection of stories about the various authors’ memories of their fathers. You can purchase one on their website, if you’re interested.

So there you have it. It will be a busy couple of months for me, in terms of both publications, and travel. Of course, in the meantime, I’m also making steady progress on the third novel, a feature length piece of erotica that I’ll be trying to market to a couple of hand-picked publishing companies that seem to specialize in the category I’ve selected. I’m very excited about it all, though, the travel, and the chance to see friends and relatives, the prospect of four publications featuring my work in the next three months (three of the four paid publications, no less), and most of all, by the prospect of moving back to New York, the most amazing place I’ve ever encountered. It will make working like a dog to save money over the next few weeks worth it. Stay tuned, folks, and thanks for reading, and for your continued support. It’s going to be a big year for me; I can feel it, and I expect a lot more to come.

Hello again, huddled masses. I just received word that I’ve had a new story accepted. This one is another piece of erotica, and it will be featured on the website www.threepillows.com. This is a pay only site that you must be a member of to access, so you can only read this story if you pay the fee, which I believe is $29.95 for thirty days. I don’t actually know a whole lot about the site, since I’m not a member, but it looks like it features videos and photo galleries in addition to stories and articles. My story is going to be up sometime either this month or next month; new content is added every week. If you’re interested in checking it out, the title of my story is “Mattress Shopping,” and it is published under my pen name, Thad Mitchell. Also, this should go without saying, but I’m saying it anyway: this story, and from the looks of it, this website, includes content of an extremely graphic sexual nature. Seriously, folks. The story is filthy. I guarantee it. That Thad Mitchell has an active imagination. It’s nice once again to be validated, as this is another PAID acceptance, my favorite kind. Thanks for the continued support, and I promise, I’ll get back to legitimate fiction soon. In the meantime, don’t judge me, people. I’m trying to pay the rent here.

Different people are concerned with different things in life, and consequently, they are interested in leaving different legacies behind. For some, it is their children and families, living proof of their existence here. For others, it is their body of work that they have contributed to their chosen field. For me, it is my writing. It’s what I do better than anything else, so, believing as I believe, that there is no “afterlife” to speak of, at least not heaven, hell, or any of the other traditionally thought about variations, and that this, here, on earth, is basically all we get, it therefore follows that in terms of what I can leave behind to be remembered by, my writing is the most important thing in my life. It’s just a shame that I’m not able to do it as often as I would like.

Of course, I’ve gone over on the blog, several times, what it means to be a struggling writer, not yet able to support myself exclusively through the writing yet, and taking whatever other sort of job that’s around to feed myself and pay the bills. That  is the continual balancing act. But these jobs are all the more frustrating because, as I’m there, serving up food, or guarding a parking lot…ditch digging, so to speak…my mind constantly goes back to whatever it is I happen to be working on just then, writing wise, and how the precious moments of my life are slipping away, moments that I’ll never get back, moments…that I could be writing. Moments that I could be working on my legacy. And that is the biggest frustration to me, the fact that I already feel very keenly sometimes the missed opportunities that have passed me by, and the time that I have wasted. To be fair, if I had my way, I would be writing all the time, not stopping to eat, or see friends or family, or enjoying all the other good things that life has to offer. The compulsion to write is like an itch that I only feel satisfaction from at the precise moment that I’m scratching it. It remains with me briefly after I stop. But the older I get, the more quickly it returns, and the need is ever more pressing. That’s why it’s funny to me when people talk about writers block. The very idea is absurd to me. Not a day goes by that I don’t have multiple ideas. The problem is choosing between them and figuring out which ones are the most pressing.

When I was younger, and I had decided to become a professional writer, I sometimes fantasized about going away somewhere when I got out of college, up to some cave in the mountains where I would live like Thoreau and work on the writing constantly for a time, away from the bustle and the hassles of daily societal existence. I still think about that sometimes. True, the reality of the situation is that I would probably get up there and after a few days I would go insane for lack of company, but still, I understand that need. It’s the desire to throw aside what I consider to be trivial and focus on what I consider important. But doesn’t everyone have that wish, sometimes? I think they do. And is it ever granted? Very seldom. I think that the balancing act of which I spoke before, juggling the writing with the other aspects of my life that stubbornly refuse to go away with those that I find worthwhile is the constant test that I must continue to pass, every day, when I get up in the morning. Hopefully, someday I will break free of the cycle to which I have belonged for the past few years, and be able to support myself through the writing as I have hoped and dreamed. Until then, I must practice patience and self control, and I must draw solace from my family and friends, the very excellent support network to whom I owe so much, and try to count my blessings. But the fact remains; I am impatient, and I am an American, used to instant gratification. I want what I want when I want it, and success in my writing career and the fulfillment of all my goals is no different.