E. Christopher Clark - Author and All-Around Geek
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Back to the Stage in September
My short play War is Coming has been selected to be performed during what producer John Herman is calling “An Evening of Steampunk and Robot Theatre” that’ll run at the Players’ Ring in Portsmouth, NH from September 24-October 10. It’ll be the first time since a summer 2009 reading in Ernest Thompson’s barn that my dramatic work has been performed. And, if you don’t count that, it’ll be the first time since March 1999, when my play The People vs. Jesus Christ took over Bradford College’s Denworth Union for two nights.
Needless to say, I’m very excited.
In addition to having my play selected, I’ve also been selected as one of six directors who will help put the show together. And, in addition to that, a play I collaborated on with the ludicrously awesome Leslie Poston (The Smokers) will be released on September 23 as part of anthology related to the theater project that’ll include original music and visual art. John’s put together something really special here, and I’m elated to be a part of it.
Check out the just-released poster to whet your appetite, and please do get ready to reserve your ticket to come and enjoy the experience. The show runs Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays from September 24-October 10.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Book I Edited is Out Now: STORIES I NEVER TOLD MY DAUGHTER
I’m proud to announce that the book I spent the winter and early spring of 2010 editing, Stories I Never Told My Daughter by Chuck Galle, is out now in paperback. Audrey Jackson of Again Books calls it, “[a] remarkable trip through an uncharted life,” and Granite State creative powerhouse John Herman says it’s “a page-turning tour of drug induced mayhem, comedic cock-ups and incredible heartbreak.”
You can pick up your own copy for $16 at Galle’s Website, or at the River Run Bookstore, where Galle will be doing a reading and signing on September 6, 2010 at 7 pm.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
What I Learned From My Hiatus
Three months ago, I announced that I was taking a three-month hiatus from blogging and taking on new projects. I was a month into a new job, I had a new baby on the way, and I felt as if I had overcommitted myself when it came to side gigs. So, I took a break.
I had three goals in mind for these three months. First, I hoped to learn how to say no. Second, I wanted to learn how to focus on what really mattered in my life. And third, I yearned to rediscover the simple joy of being alive.
How did I do?
Well, I did manage to avoid committing to any new projects, I did manage to complete one of the biggies I was working on (editing the amazing memoirs of the incredible Chuck Galle), and I did manage to make major progress on my next book of short stories (working alongside the awesome Elissa Quinn). So, in terms of saying no to new projects and catching up on existing ones, I did make progress.
And I do feel like I have rediscovered the joy of being alive. My new daughter, Melody Woodsum Clark, who was born on April Fool’s Day, has reminded me daily to look at life a little less seriously. I’ve lost 35 or so pounds since January, and am edging ever closer to a healthy weight. And I’ve taken time to fool around more, too—I beat both Mega Man 2 and New Super Mario Bros. Wii over the break.
But, for all my success in learning how to say no and in rediscovering the joy of being alive, these past three months were a struggle when it came to learning how to focus on what really matters in my life.
When I agreed to start a new job at the end of January, I did so for a number of reasons. The office was located closer to home, it paid enough that I could eventually be a one-job guy, and I thought I would be a great fit. The job was in marketing communications, and I was responsible for helping to market a product that dealt with one of my core interests in recent years: social media. The people there were fabulous, and they seemed thrilled to have me aboard.
But it quickly became apparent that, though I was great fit personality-wise, I was not the best fit for the position. Every week was a struggle. My supervisors and peers went above and beyond to try and help get me up to speed, and I did make progress. But, in the fast-paced world of a start-up, I just couldn’t keep up. And I think that, deep down, one of the primary reasons I couldn’t keep up was that my heart wasn’t in it. Hard as I worked—and I do believe that I worked hard—my heart was somewhere else. My heart was in the secondary, part-time jobs that I’d hoped this new position would help me to eventually eliminate.
My heart was in teaching. It was in writing fiction. It was in blogging.
I fought these thoughts, and I fought them hard. Even as it became clearer and clearer that losing my job was a matter of when and not if, I struggled against the realization that I was coming to about what mattered to me most in life. I finished leading an amazing discussion on the stories of Andre Dubus with my Advanced Fiction Workshop and I told myself, “Sure, you’ll miss this, but you won’t miss grading homework. Or driving to Boston. Or dealing with plagiarism or excuses for excessive absences or…”
But the truth was, as the end of the semester drew nearer, I began to feel like I would miss all of those things. I began to realize that I would miss even the worst parts of the job. Silently, I told myself, “You’re trying to get out of the wrong gig.” Then, on May 1, publicly, I wrote this:
There will always be stress in life. The trick is to figure out which stresses are worth it in the end.
It was a Saturday afternoon, I was riding shotgun while my wife drove us north to see family, and I admitted to her that I thought I wanted to teach full-time. I told her how stupid I felt saying that out loud, how unrealistic a dream it felt like. I told her that I realized how hard it would be for us and for our growing family, but I told her that I was sick of lying to myself. The writing was on the wall at the new job, and it was time to figure out what was going to happen next.
In the weeks that followed, I thought long and hard about how every aspect of my professional and semi-professional wants and desires might be incorporated into a single vision for myself. I thought about how Geek Force Five fit in, about how my writing fit in, and about what I wanted to teach my students, about how I planned to take my teaching to the next level if given the chance. I came up with a personal mission statement:
To tell stories (primarily through the written word), to learn everything I can about telling stories, and to pass on that knowledge in the classroom and in other less traditional teaching opportunities.
A business plan followed, as did a revision of my resume. Suddenly, everything began to click. I lost the job, which was a terrible blow, but I found myself. And that’s what these three months were supposed to be about. That’s why these three months away were, in the end, a success.
And now, now it’s time for the fun stuff. Geek Force Five is coming back this month. Pre-sales for the new book will launch next month. And there’s oodles more that I can’t wait to share with you. Stay tuned!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
A Hiatus for the Overcommitted - March-June 2010
“...I’m beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel… thin. Sort of stretched, like… butter scraped over too much bread.”
The line above, from The Lord of the Rings—the film version, at least; I’ve never read the book(s)—describes all too well my current mental state. I’m not as old as Bilbo is when he offers Gandalf that line, but I do feel stretched, and the despair that that feeling brings has begun to infect my heart.
It is because of this that I, the classic example of an overcommitter, am taking a break from committing to anything until June. It’s a break from blogging, from writing, and from any new projects whatsoever. It might be more than a break, in fact. It could be a retirement. I don’t know yet. All I do know is that living at the pace I’m living is going to kill me, and I’m not ready to die.
The primary goals of this break are threefold:
1. I hope to learn how to say no.
2. I hope to learn how to focus on what really matters in my life.
3. I hope to learn how to enjoy living again.
In order to do so, I’ve decided to begin this journey, right here, by outlining the three main reasons I overcommit. Because, when it comes right down to it, it’s my willingness to spread myself too thin that is at the root of much of my anxiety.
So, the main reasons I overcommit are:
1. Money
2. Low Self-Esteem
3. A Desire To Be Helpful
Let’s explore these further.
Money. Because of the extraordinary debt my wife and I are in—$18,299.38 in credit card debt, plus our mortgage, student loans, and an auto loan—I constantly seek out secondary and tertiary money-making projects. Regardless of how hard I work, however, we never seem to make a dent. So, I keep looking for more ways to make money.
Low Self-Esteem. I agree to nearly every project that is pitched to me because I end up feeling so flabbergasted that anyone would want to work with me that to say no seems unforgivable. “What will happen,” my brain seems to ask me, “when they wake up and realize that you’re useless, and not worth their time?”
A Desire To Be Helpful. I also overcommit myself out of a desire to help others out. I can’t stand to see others struggling with something when I could help, even if me helping isn’t feasible.
Right now, I have a great primary job doing marketing communications. I’d like to get to a point where that is my only job. That’s part of what this break is about, too. In May, my wife and I will sit down and analyze our finances to see what’s possible. But I want to enter that discussion with the resolve that I will never again be a guy who is working a regular job, plus teaching three college-level classes, plus editing someone’s memoirs, plus writing for two blogs, plus pitching his novel to publishers and agents, plus getting ready for a new baby, plus, plus, plus. And, to do that, I need a break. I need to finish the things I’ve committed to finishing, then step back and figure out what’s next, and how never to end up here again.
Thank you for understanding. I’ll see you again in June. In the meantime, I’ll still be tweeting @ecc1977 on Twitter, so you check out what I’m to there.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The Silver Family Singers - On Record
Well, it’s done. The album based on my short story “The Silver Family Singers” has finally been recorded and released to the world. It was done as part of the 2010 edition of the RPM Challenge. I wrote the lyrics, Uncle Phil wrote the music, and it turned out pretty damn good (if you ask me).
You can listen to the whole thing for free here.