Golden Advice: Musings on Aldous Huxley's Essay "Sermons in Cats"

Hi folks, this is my February series on Golden Advice. I like to spend the month of February digging into the wisdom that has come my way, and that guides my art, my craft and my life. I find having some wise stuff in the soul helps me write stories with purpose. This week's thoughts are my musings on Aldous Huxley's essay: "Sermons in Cats."

I've had author crush on Aldous Huxley since my teens. He wrote books like Brave New World. I read it, and we became best friends. He wrote screenplays: Pride and Prejudice (1940)and Jane Eyre (1944). He wrote essays, poems, travel journals, and even (gasp) a children's book. (You are making me look lame, bestie.)

This week I'm musing about his essay "Sermons in Cats." A young author once asked Huxley how to become a novelist. Huxley encouraged the young author to buy lots of paper, a pen, ink, and write. The young author was not satisfied with this answer and begged Huxley for his writing formula. Huxley then urged the young writer to go to a fancy university and study writing. The young author was still unsatisfied and asked Huxley "did he keep a notebook or a journal," did he jot things on napkins or did use cross indexed cards, did he read novels exclusively or be well read across all subjects, and more questions.

Finally Huxley had enough and he offered this: "My young friend," I said, "if you want to be a psychological novelist and write about human beings, the best thing you can do is to keep a pair of cats."

The young writer left disconsolate. He wanted some magic formula, but Huxley put some heavy truth on the table instead. What makes stories interesting is when we look under the veneer of "manners, conventions, traditions of thought and feeling." Cats are malcontents. Imagine the marriage of two Siamese cats. They are at each other throats and fur flies. It's no fairy tale. Watching the behavior of cats will keep you from banality and untruths that parade as true relationships.

I have two cats and they are true characters. They are friends one minute and sinking in fangs in the next. Those twitching tails indicate perverse plans in the future. They are also affectionate, nuzzling and rubbing, and then out of nowhere, biting. My cats will moan like the world is coming to an end at night outside my door, and then purr like motorboats when I let them in, and then scratch me a few seconds later. Yes, Huxley has something here. Some big sermons for writers are hidden in the lives of cats.

I hope that this series helps you no your journey. I will be back next week with my Lucky March series.

Here is a doodle for you:






A quote for your pocket: 

The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which mean never losing your enthusiasm. Aldous Huxley

Golden Advice: Musing on Francis Bacon's Essay "Of Boldness"

Hi folks, this is my February series on Golden Advice. I like to spend the month of February digging into the wisdom that has come my way, and that guides my art, my craft and my life. I find having some wise stuff in the soul helps me write stories with purpose. This week's thoughts are my musings on Francis Bacon's essay "Of Boldness."

Francis Bacon was a philosopher and scientist who lived from the late 1500s to early 1600s.  He's the guy that came up with the scientific method. His thoughts of methodology came onto my radar when I was college. I was so moved by his thinking that I read all of his essays and bits and pieces of his thoughts wove into the fabric of my life. One of his essays, "Of Boldness," resonated. And now for my musing.

Here I put some of his thoughts into the plain English. The heart of boldness is action. The only downside of boldness, humans are generally part genius and part stoopid. This makes boldness a tricky thing. If you are standing on a foundation of ignorance and/or "never going to happen," boldness is worthless. It will get you in trouble. You boldly make a promise and then, heck, you can not really pull it together. Then you end up reneging on that promise after failing shamefully. What artist hasn't had this day?

One true thing is that perfectly bold people refuse to admit they have bitten off something bigger than they can chew and instead brush over their failure and then turn in a different direction. It's a wonder to behold such bold people. Boldness is often ridiculous. Here is the plain truth: great boldness always comes with some extreme absurdity.

Boldness doesn't see danger or inconveniences. It's probably not a good idea for bold people to serve as commander in chief. They need to be seconds under the direction of others.  At the end of the day, it's a good thing to see dangers, but when getting art done, it's good not to see those dangers unless the commander in chief taps him or her on the shoulder and says stop now!

As an artistic person, you may chafe because of all the bean counters, market gurus, editors and fans that direct your art. You are a person of ACTION. You have boldness in your soul.  Yep, and now you have a clear idea of what that is all about. Trust the process, trust the gate keepers, trust the critique group members, trust your fans, trust them all.  

Hope this strikes a chord with you. I will be back next week with the last of this series. 

Here is a doodle for you. "Flowers"

Knowledge is power. Francis Bacon

Golden Advice: Inspired by I Corinthians, Chapter 13 -- Love

Hi folks, this is my February series on Golden Advice. I like to spend the month of February digging into the wisdom that has come my way, and that guides my art, my craft and my life. I find having some wise stuff in the soul helps me write stories with purpose. This week's thoughts are inspired by I Corinthians, Chapter 13, The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis, The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman, and a vast number of other books.

 I can barely touch a teacup of this topic in one blog. I hope that this little cup helps.

I think a lot about love. I think we live in a love-starved culture. People consume and consume trying to fill the love void in their lives. The McDonald's culture prevails. We are a throwaway, instantaneous, junk food society with a huge bucket of voyeurism and gossiping thrown in. Ugh.

Love does not thrive in this society; I am talking real love. Love is not safe; it's about risking all of yourself for nothing in return. It demands many things of you, but on the love journey, you gain your true self. I think of every story I write as a love journey. I think of my life that way too.

My definition of love flows right out of I Corinthians, Chapter 13.  Here's a verse: Love is patient. When was the last time you saw patience lifted up as a good thing. Patience often means spending mega time waiting for someone to change and suffering some wrong while waiting. It may also mean you wait and the other person never changes. Dang this tough. 

Here is the  big deal. Love is kind. It's about not digging into someone else even when you are are in pain. Kindness is about listening. It's about hearing. It's about admitting you are wrong.

Love does not boast. I come short in this one because I feel inadequate. It's not about tooting my own horn -- cough, avoid Facebook. I hope everyone who knows me feels more connected to me than my possessions, my achievements and my abilities. You know, I want to keep it real.

Love does not dishonor others. Ack. I struggle with this one too. I look at the mega success of others and feel like the smallest potato in the bag.  I have found myself saying ill favored stuff about others, because I feel lame and he or she has what I want. Dang, I don't deserve any cake. Taking time to offer kudos instead of degrading: note to self, get with the program. Creating characters who cling to honor, really is what I want to be all about. 

And at the end of the day, love never fails, even if you are shattered into a million pieces. Drag them all together and love through those pieces. You might nick others with  the shards inside of you, but don't let that keep you from loving. 

So that is the teacup of love for the day. 

As you create you artistic works, let each stroke be lit by love. Let each word be lit by love. Love is the light in darkness. Let it shine. Let it shine. Every little thing is going to shine. 

Here is a doodle for you: Tangled Hearts

You still fascinate and inspire me. You influence me for the better. You’re the object of my desire, the #1 Earthly reason for my existence. I love you very much. Johnny Cash to June Carter Cash

Golden Advice: Inspired by Emerson's essay-- ART

Hi, folks, this is my February series on Golden Advice. I like to spend the month of February digging into the wisdom that has come my way, and that guides my art, my craft and my life. I find having some wise stuff in the soul helps me write stories with purpose.

Today I'm going to reflect on Ralph Waldo Emerson's Essay XII: ART. You may read this essay here if you wish. 

Emerson always stirs me up. He shares that the soul is on a journey. It's not a static thing.  Artists look out on this would and see the unseen. We see the light in this moment that will be lost forever if we do not capture it. We don't only see the surface of the world, but also the character of the world, especially when we turn the vision on ourselves and try to reveal ourselves through art.  No mechanical device can capture what the human mind perceives -- we are attempting to interpret that spark of life we sense and place it on our canvases, in our songs, our dances, our stories, in our every form of expression. We are capturing our moment in time. 

The art of every age is a reflection of more that just what is seen but the unseen. If you want to know what is going on in your culture, what are the signs of the times, look at what artists are producing. They can't help but let what is going on in their world seep in and shape what they are creating. That said, there is an inherent understanding in artists that we are an expression of this vast Universe -- an imperfect picture of the glory that we perceive.  There is no other creature on Earth that is so desiring to interpret what they perceive. We feel the invisible undercurrents and bring the invisible to the forefront. When we create our art and then consider it, we always find things that we didn't intend and that takes our breath away. 

Art has a big purpose in the course of human history. It's the thread that reveals who we are and what we want. We are not unconnected with the art that has gone before us. I think about the explosion of superhero, fantasy, and science fiction stories in our days as a good example of this. These stories are extensions of the human  journey of myth. I feel an undercurrent in them that we very much all looking beyond our times, staring into the void and wanting to be much more than we are now. We are also wrestling with "villains" so great that they boggle the mind. Also a perception is evident: a desire to do good will triumph, It will overcome the darkness. 

Does this seem like our world? 

So what does all this mean to me personally? When art is making me uncomfortable, making me squirm in my seat, I must take note, especially when art slips away from a pursuit of beauty. I consider our larger world and reflect about what darkness looms. I cannot help but respond. For me I am searching for the good and lovely of my times and seasons. I hunger for every voice to be heard. I want to find beauty and holiness in new ways. I want to be brave and earnest and see what springs up from my heart. This is my prayer. My heart's cry. My deep hope. I hope that you join me on this journey. 

I will be back next week with more golden advice. 

Here is a quote for your pocket:

Faith is what makes life bearable, with all its tragedies and ambiguities and sudden, startling joys.

Madeleine L'Engle