Category: Uncategorized

Donald Trump’s election was a GOOD thing (no, really!)

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I’ve posted my views on Donald Trump’s election on social media, Tweeting and Facebooking…but then I started hearing from folks that while my little quotes and snippets were nice, some deeper analysis was necessary. There were some not-so-subtle hints that I was shirking my duties as resident curmudgeon and unrepentant Leftie. Surely I had something more substantial to say…

And so, to make amends, I offer a longer response, a piece that makes the shocking assertion that the Donald’s occupancy of the White House might be the best thing that could have happened to the political Left.

That made you sit up and take notice, didn’t it?

Read this…and feel free to offer your own opinions and reactions:

Good, Honest Hatred (essay)

 

 

The proof!

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Righteous Blood is in the house.

The proof is well-nigh perfect and I’ve gone ahead and ordered copies for friends, Saskatoon bookstores, reviewers, etc.

The book retails at $19.00 and the shipping costs will be similar to my previous offering, Disloyal Son. Check my Bookstore page for further details.

Come ‘n git it!

An open letter to the party faithful

 

Tommy

Trent Wotherspoon has been appointed interim leader of the NDP here in Saskatchewan. I decided to write him a note, reflecting on the disastrous recent provincial election results and the future direction of the party.

Here’s what I said:

Flash Fiction

lights

2020

Endless processions of driverless cars.

Delivering their contents to automated houses.

Under the constant scrutiny of cameras, overhead drones.

Smart appliances reporting preferences, behavior, patterns; mined for data, narcing to their corporate masters.

Election night: voting by remote control, hardly bothering to check the results.

Keeping your head down, mouth shut.

Addicted to livestreaming porn sites.

Disgusted by the state of affairs but powerless to effect any change.

Buying stupid trinkets to fill the void.

Drugs when nothing else works.

An epidemic of suicide in your age bracket.

Desperately lonely and neurotic, verging on anti-social.

In your solitary rooms, secured by triple locks.

Talking to yourself and the listening walls.

Waiting for the knock on your door.

satellite

 

© Cliff Burns (All Rights Reserved)

Quote of the day: Charles Eisenstein

“We are only able to continue our ravaging of the planet under the cover of pretense. How is it that we as a society take no action, when the awful artifacts of our way of life on this planet lay strewn all around us? How is it that we continue to hurtle toward an obvious abyss? It is only because we have been rendered blind and insensate. Underneath their numbers games, the banks and hedge funds are stripping wealth away from the masses and the planet. Behind every profit statement, behind every executive bonus, is a trail of wreckage: strip mines, debt slaves, pension cuts, hungry children, ruined lives, and ruined places. We all participate in this system, but can do so willingly only to the extent we do not feel, see, or know. To conduct a revolution of love, we must reconnect with the reality of our system and its victims. When we tear away the ideologies, the labels, and the rationalizations, we show ourselves the truth of what we are doing, and conscience awakens.”

-Charles Eisenstein, The More Beautiful World Our Hearts Know Is Possible

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Looking ahead (hopeful premonitions)

Welles:pictureOne of my resolutions in 2016 is to raise and enhance my creative profile by getting better at promoting my work.

I make that commitment with, I confess, some serious misgivings. My absolute nightmare is emulating my hero, Orson Welles, who spent the vast majority of his time trying to beg, borrow or steal the money he needed to finance his pictures. He frequently bemoaned wasting his energy on this soul-destroying scut work when he could have been, y’know, making great movies. When he died, he left a string of unfinished projects and his body of work was far, far smaller than it should have been. That represents a crime against cinema itself.

I measure myself by the latest project in front of me—and that’s a major drawback. Once I finish a book or short story or poem I quickly lose interest, already eying the next challenge. I admit it: I have been completely negligent when it comes to plugging the ten books this press has released thus far. I send out review copies, write up some accompanying background material…and then pretty much forget about it. Onward and upward!

But I’m a sentient creature, I can learn, adapt, change. So during the past week I’ve signed up for both Smashwords and Wattpad, making a substantial selection of my writings available for free downloading and sampling on those sites (see: the “Links” sidebar to the right of this post). I’ve also contributed comments to a couple of writing forums and reached out to a few fellow indies.

As well, in the coming weeks, I’ll be giving you a step-by-step (blow by blow?) account of my efforts to publish the next Black Dog Press offering, a reprint of Righteous Blood, a volume featuring two terrifying novellas originally released by PS Publishing back in 2002. You wanna know how to publish a book, experience the joy and (mainly) torments of that process firsthand, well, keep watching this space.

I spent part of last autumn getting the text of Righteous Blood into shape, making sure there were no formatting glitches, etc. I also wrote a foreword and some end story notes. That part is pretty much ready to go. But I still need to find cover art, select an interior layout person (Chris Kent will once again handle cover design) and start the production ball rolling. My tentative release date is April 1st—better get a move on.

So…busy times. But I can’t forget to leaven all that labor with a little bit of fun.

Which means…see you at the first home game of this province’s new professional lacrosse team, the Saskatchewan Rush. I’ll be driving in to Saskatoon on Friday, attending the match with four of my favourite lads (including my two sons). The forecast is for cold weather but that doesn’t deter the hardy sports fans in this part of the world. Watch for me, I’ll be the guy in the yellow/gold Bruins hat, imbibing good, Canadian ale and grinning from ear to ear.

I love lacrosse. Fantastic game. Canada’s real national sport.

Go Rush!

Bruins

Listen up, NaNoWriMo Wannabes: Richard Bausch quote

“…these people…want to be considered serious writers; but they have come to believe that they can accomplish this by means of a convenient shortcut. And the industry that produces how-to manuals plays to them, makes money from their hope of finding a way to be a writer, rather than doing the work, rather than actually spending the time to absorb what is there in the vast riches of the world’s literature, and then crafting one’s own voice out of the myriad of voices.

My advice? Put the manuals and how-to books away. Read the writers themselves, whose work and example are all you really need if you want to write. And wanting to write is so much more than a pose. To my mind, nothing is as important as good writing, because in literature, the walls between people and cultures are broken down, and the things that plague us most—suspicion and fear of the other, and the tendency to see whole groups of people as objects, as monoliths of one cultural stereotype or another—are defeated.

This work is not done as a job, ladies and gentlemen, it is done out of love for the art and the artists who brought it forth, and who still bring it forth to us, down the years and across ignorance and chaos and borderlines. Riches. Nothing to be skipped over in the name of some misguided intellectual social-climbing. Well, let me paraphrase William Carlos Williams, American poet: literature has no practical function, but every day people die for lack of what is found there.”

Richard Bausch, in The Atlantic Monthly

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Would the posers and wannabes out there PLEASE note: when you’re a real writer, every fucking month is “national novel writing month”.

Now go back to flipping burgers or whatever it is you do, and leave literature to the professionals…the people who, through years of sweat and sacrifice, have earned the right to call themselves authors.

Shame on you for daring to include yourself in their company…