Category: rant

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Wait for the turn this takes

This morning I was up early, brewed some coffee, and sat on my front step. Listening to news of the latest mayhem, I started spiraling down into despair. I titled one of my apocalyptic books All Empires Fall because, well, they do.

The death of Elijah McClain broke me. This was George Floyd all over again. Mr. McClain was a slight, 23-year-old massage therapist choked out twice by three police officers and administered a sedative by a paramedic after he was subdued. It was murder, no doubt. If you have any doubt, search up Mr. McClain’s last words. This was a gentle spirit and agents of the State murdered him.* Colorado officials have no plans to take any responsibility. The DA on the case refused to prosecute, in part because the victim “was not injured.” You know…except for the part about him being dead.

*Note: Don’t ‘No angel’ victims of police brutality. Even if he wasn’t a gentle soul, the authorities should still bear responsibility for such callous mistreatment and the unnecessary death of anyone in their custody.

Then I spiraled down further

The more I listened to stories of violent, selfish, and greedy people who don’t believe in science, people who don’t know what empathy is… Let’s just say my empathy drained away, too. I know a minority is ruining everything, but that is a powerful minority and they’re in charge. A racist is president and a lot of people voted for him. A lot of people will still vote for him! The insane are running the asylum.

Hearing all this grim news I thought, it’s not just that America has become a failed state. It is that we are a failed species. Things are so far off the rails, I don’t know when that train will run again. The poor are not protected. They’re vilified and criminalized. The helpless remain helpless. God damn it, people can be mean.

I flirted with a grim conclusion: There’s a lot of evil and stupid out there. Maybe, as a species, we don’t deserve success. We could have created a utopia, but we fucked it up. Maybe New Zealand or Iceland has a shot at getting things right but sometimes it feels like we’re too far gone. Maybe Vonnegut was right. The species is suicidal.

Then I turned to Facebook

I came across a post that swung back the pendulum. It was a series of pictures with brief captions telling of random acts of kindness:

A guy on a subway playing on his phone shared a game with a kid.

A woman in a wheelchair couldn’t get down to the shore to place a rose in the water where her husband’s ashes had been scattered. Someone took care of it for her.

Dropping off a passenger at an amusement park, a cabbie mentioned he had never had the experience. His passenger invited the cabbie to join him for the day and paid for his entry.

A teacher visited his ill student every day in hospital to make sure he kept up with his homework.

Story after story, I saw short, simple tales about everyday people being kind to each other. And I wept again. Big, ugly cry, too. It was a great relief to be pulled from the brink, back from the cold chasm of despair to the thin ledge of hope.

I don’t believe God’s coming to save us. We’re going to save ourselves or depend on a rescue mission from benevolent aliens. Or maybe, you, reading this, have a part to play in being kind and acting to find solutions. What if it’s you?

Whoever can turn things around, I want to send up the same signal flare.

Know this:

We are worth saving.

We are. I know it doesn’t feel that way sometimes, but we are worth saving.

Please…begin.

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Racing down the spiral

The Night Man is me.

I suffer insomnia. And I do mean suffer. This is a list of some my thoughts from last night’s fugue. It could be a flow chart that loops back on itself.

  • Bedtime! Got to bed early! Great!
  • Not sleepy.
  • Not sleepy. Sigh.
  • Patience. The trick to falling asleep is to neither try nor not try. Do or do not, there is no try. Thanks, Yoda, you little green fuck.
  • Calm. Patience. You’re an expert in relaxation, Rob. You can do this.
  • In “Jenny from the Block,” why does she sing, “I used to have a little, now I have a lot”? If she’d sung, “I used to have a little, now I got a lot,” that would be better. “Got a lot.” Rolls off the tongue and pleases the brain. I mean, why? Her artistic choice, sure, but why?
  • I need help. Hypnosis app. I go through a sequence. The free hypnotic sequence was better than the one I paid for. Grr.
  • Not sleepy. The walls are alive. When I see my sleep specialist in a week, will he review all the health dangers of poor sleep? Will he go over all the sleep hygiene shit I’m already doing? I ruminate about how my brain is, at that moment, shrinking.
  • Deep breathing…progressive muscle relaxation.
  • Random thought intrudes: How many cast members of MASH are still alive? I remember the street I was on and the angle of the sunlight on the morning a kid in my class mentioned the name of the show on our way to school. I asked, “Is it a TV show about potatoes?”
  • Let it go…let it go. And now I’ve got a Disney song in my head. It’s a good song, but not now, Queen Elsa.
  • Elsa. Else. Elsewhere. Elsewhen. I want to be elsewhere and elsewhen.
  • An editorial question is revisited. The editorial question bounces back and forth in my brain in a hypothetical argument that will never happen. Resolution = zero.
  • Second hypnosis app. Nothing.
  • They say Adderall can be a recreational drug, but isn’t it more a work drug? I mean, if I got Adderall, would I finally clean up my office? That would make my wife love me more. The smart drug from Limitless doesn’t exist but, hey! Where can I get some Adderall for which I do not technically qualify except, look at me right now! Gee-Zuzz!
  • Is there a podcast called Limitless? Good pod name. I should look that up. Maybe they have some good ideas. I wish I had a podcast called Limitless. However, I am feeling extraordinarily limited and sorry for myself.
  • Self-pity is not attractive. Add that to my list of things I dislike about Rob.
  • How much time has elapsed? Is it 3 or 4 a.m.? It’s 1:46. What? Really? Only 1:46 a.m.? Shit!
  • I should put socks on. Body temperature/sleep theory says that might help. Sigh. I lie there, thinking about it.
  • Eons pass. Mountains erode. Seas evaporate. The sun explodes. The heat death of the universe ensues. The universe contracts back to the size of a softball again and another Big Bang shatters the void. I see all of Time as a heartbeat and every single Big Bang is the pulse of all existence. An endless, meaningless existence in which Time is a flat circle on infinite repeat.
  • Was Nietzsche fun at parties? I bet he wasn’t.
  • But then there’s the whole multiverse thing. Don’t even think about that, Rob. You know how you get.
  • Will they really make the Spider-Man movie where Toby Maguire and Andrew Garfield come back to play Spider-Men from alternate universes teaming up with Tom Holland? That would be sweet.
  • Eons did not pass. It’s only 2:06 a.m. Deep breathing…nope, nope, nope. Did I eat something today that makes me this way? Why am I like this? I’m pissed. Is this mania? Not clinically, but it feels like I’m on the same continuum.
  • I should put socks on, but then I’d have to turn on the light and that can trigger a wake cycle and I’m trying to get into the sleep cycle aaaand…now I have to pee.
  • I don’t wanna get up, but it’s not like lying here is working, anyway.
  • Get up, pee, get socks, back to bed. Wait.
  • Is the pillow a thousand degrees? It feels like it’s a thousand degrees. Turn pillow to the cool side. Still hot. How am I going to get any work done tomorrow?
  • Toss. Turn. Patience wanes. Fuck Adderall. I need to be knocked out. Where can I get those darts they use to tranquilize rhinos? Where’s the nearest zoo that has rhinos and how good is their security?
  • Give up. Facebook. Twitter. Email.
  • No one’s emailing me in the dead of night because they’re all asleep. How I hate and envy them.
  • Fall into an Instagram rabbit hole of Karens harassing people just minding their own business. View of humanity plummets.
  • Back to Twitter. News. View of humanity plummets further. I have the Iron Man fantasy again where I get the armor and fuck up some people who desperately deserve it.
  • If I were in a different state of mind, I could actually get up and use this time to write dozens of books. It doesn’t work like that, though. In this state, I’m simultaneously overstimulated but my head feels foggy, as if I’ve been bingeing a five-day marathon of golf tournaments. I fucking hate golf.
  • Golf. Remember that time that guy cornered me at a wedding reception and asked if I was interested in golf and I said, “Fuck, no,” and he told me his golf story, anyway? Review how to kill with the stem of a broken wine glass.
  • Sleep is needed. I should try again (and yet, somehow, not try.)
  • I’ve helped hundreds of people battling insomnia but I can’t help myself. I don’t make enough money. I don’t do a lot of things I should. I could do a lot of those things if I could just get a good night’s sleep!
  • Self-recrimination isn’t helping. You knew it wouldn’t, Rob, you moron! Let’s review every mean thing anyone has ever said to you or about you. (I have an eidetic memory for that.)
  • I want potato chips. And chocolate ice cream. Maybe find a way to combine the two that isn’t gross. But that would require intravenous injection.
  • If I get COVID-19, I have to get a block of plywood by the hospital bed so I can knock on it to ward off the disease. That’s unquestionably the stupidest of my superstitions, and yet…
  • One and a half nanoseconds later: What if, instead of piling food on a fork or spoon, we put each food category in a line on a long plate, as if we’re doing cocaine, but with snow peas?
  • Editorial question revisited on a loop. Pointless. Nobody listens to Rob. If I were thinner and taller and not named after a felony, people would listen.
  • “Got a lot!” I mean, the rhyme is right there, J.Lo! Jesus! This aggression will not stand!
  • Watch an interview with a new Black Panther in which the reporter seems well-versed in the organization’s history, but totally focuses on whether to carry weapons to a protest instead of even nodding to their noble work in community activism to feed and care for people who were otherwise forgotten.
  • 3:30 a.m. The bed is lava. Despite the fan, I am magma.
  • Give up, get out of bed, and move to my backup bed in the basement where it’s cooler.
  • Toss. Turn. I am a turbine. Hook me up and I will power the planet.
  • I should be sleepy by now and yet I have the nervous system of a squirrel.
  • I make a mental note that I should write these thoughts down in a blog post so I don’t have to think them again. That’s how I’ll let it go.
  • Shit. Disney’s back.
  • Nah, don’t bother writing it down. I’ll probably forget half of it by tomorrow. (I did forget half, and yet, here we are.)
  • 5-something, I think. Finally sleepy. At some point tomorrow, I will easily fall into a sweet and delicious nap that will not be denied. I’m not supposed to sleep during the day, but it’s nap or die.
  • Sleep is finally creeping in at dawn, a turtle in a race that all the happy rabbits finished long ago when the night was young.
  • Eyelids like heavy weights. Good…good…let the hate flow through you.
  • And here she comes, on a loop as my brain cranks up again. “Got a lot! Got a lot!” GODDAMN IT, J.LO!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nCswWuyShg
Posted on

Wanna see my blanket fort?

IMG_2103

The coffee shop (AKA the coffice) is no longer an option, of course. Freedom awaits, but relief shall not come until at least two full weeks after that longed-for goal: Vaccination Day!

I’m writing fiction and working on audiobooks in the blanket bunker. If you can manage it, I highly recommend a similar retreat. Failing that, pull blankets over your head and breathe through a hose. Crawl under the bed to cry. Hide under a friendly dog and whisper your deepest sins into his big floppy ears.

Then? Wait.

Then wait some more.

Patience.

Don’t binge on bad news all the time. Stay sane. Perform a kindness. Poke your head out a window and curse the distant, uncaring stars. Have a cookie. Have another cookie. Exercise by pounding a pillow and cursing. Works for me.

Today’s message is:

You will feel fear. You will feel grief. As the pandemic rages on, anger may grip you. I hope we live to feel gratitude for being spared.

Whatever you’re feeling, it’s valid.

Much love,

Robert

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Scrivener: Just a word processor now?

I’ve been using Scrivener to write and format my books for years. I remember, before the dawn of time, having to format my first book manually. The challenge of constructing a working Table of Contents was a real chore when I used chisel and stone. Then Scrivener came along and life got easier. With the release of Scrivener 3.0, things have become harder again, at least for me.

Let’s be clear: I love Scrivener as a word processor

Microsoft Word was developed for composing business documents, not killer thrillers. With Scrivener, writing is so much easier. I can bop all around a manuscript and find what I need to make edits in a flash. As a formatting device, Scrivener has a learning curve that can be pretty steep at first. When I first dove in, I remember spending many hours trying to get a print book design just right. As I published more books I cut my formatting time down. The summer I published a weekly serial to Amazon, I got so good at it that I couldn’t remember what my initial mental blocks had been. Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy. Life was glorious.

I’m a tad less than enthusiastic now.

How things went off the rails

Last week, I finished revisions to The Night Man. The manuscript was finally ready for the editor. I hit compile to get a Word doc to send to Google Docs. Simple, right? The evening was young. Hit share and hit the gym. That was the plan. Then the tooth grinding began.

It seemed that no matter what I did when I hit compile, I got wonky formatting. I tried many variables. Either the resulting document was all underlined, or all in italic or I lost all italics. I could create a pdf file but I couldn’t use that for my editor. Frustration mounted. I’d used Scrivener for years. How different could the new version be? Quite, as it turned out.

I broke down and went back to the manual. My search words were of no help. I watched YouTube instructional videos and hunted through forums. Since it’s a new update, much of what is out there on YouTube is out of date. In the forums, I found threads where some power users scolded those of us with less technical expertise.* 

Finally, I found a note that hit on the problem. 

There’s apparently a bug between Scrivener and .docx files. This doesn’t appear to be an especially new bug but it persists. Switching to .rtf fixed the problem. I did not get to the gym. It was about midnight when I finished. All this to compile one Word document?

Looking around, I’m not the only one who has struggled with the compile feature. I get it, though. Scrivener can do so many great things that it has to be complex to carry its heavy load. When one piece of software can create ebooks, print books, film scripts and proof copies etc, it’s bound to be complex. It’s also valuable. I still like Scrivener as writing software.

People tell me that, mostly, Scrivener is still great. However, for formatting and book design, I’m not up to climbing that learning curve again. I use Vellum for book design now. It’s awesome and easy. Some of Vellum’s interfaces are reminiscent of earlier versions of Scrivener.

Vellum is not inexpensive. An unlimited license will set you back $250. If you’ve got plenty of books to create for yourself or others, the investment makes sense.

Here’s what I’d humbly suggest:

1. For software developers: I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m just a novelist. You’re way smarter than me in the ways of the tech force. Please recognize that and make the user experience more intuitive. More intuitive to mere mortals, I mean, not your fellow tech geniuses and power users.

2. For software developers: Please bring in a focus group of idiots like me before you revamp your software so much. Digging through the instructions, I felt like I had to hire Sherpas to climb that learning curve. 

3. For software developers: Fix the bug if it’s on your end. My understanding is that this .docx bug is not actually Scrivener’s problem. The fault, if it must be assigned, lies elsewhere. However, it is a problem for Scrivener users.

4. For software developers: Try to make sure users are alerted if there is a bug even if it’s not on your end. I figured out the problem but it took a lot of digging while my blood pressure went up and my spirits went down.

5. If you’re a writer: Buy Scrivener. I’m still a fan. It is wonderful and wondrous as a word processor. If you only have one or two books in you, take the time to learn how to use all the miracles it has to offer. I took the time to learn the earlier versions and I’m very grateful Scrivener came along to rescue us from building TOCs manually. Copy special to create a Table of Contents with a click? That was a huge time saver.

6. If you write a lot of books and the expense is in your budget, write in Scrivener but format your ebooks and paperbacks using Vellum. It’s as user-friendly as can be.

*The title for this article (Scrivener: Just a Word Processor Now?) was inspired by an unknown user in a forum. She was trying to figure out Scrivener. That question was her lament. The replies she got were insistent that no, she was just being silly and  obtuse. Well, no, she didn’t understand the new version of the software. Neither do I so I sympathize.

For more on Vellum, check out this link.

You can buy Vellum here.

Purchase Scrivener at this link. 

(The standard license for Scrivener is $45 though deals do seem to come along frequently. For all it can do, that price is very reasonable.)

~ Hi! I’m Robert Chazz Chute. Thanks for reading this far down! You’re a keener, aren’t you? I like that! Maybe you’re willing to go a little farther and meet me in
Zihuatanejo, Red?

About me: I escaped the 9 – 5 for the 24/7/365. I construct apocalyptic epics and suspenseful crime fiction. My next killer thriller, The Night Man, will be released soon. Please subscribe to be alerted when Easy’s adventure in darkness becomes available. Thanks!

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