Posts Tagged ‘ego’

So, I’ve been doing the black/white thinking again, which always comes from the ego nature.  Do I self-publish, just finish out the book, and pick up the checks in an hour? LOL, I’m not that stupid. Maybe.  But of course, Gandalf the Magician is Grey. The Middle Pillar, The Middle Path. Nothing in excess. My Book Doctor says, you have the chops, girl, it’s all right here, now SLOW DOWN. Forty years ago, my  Teacher of Teachers David, told me that my karma was to learn patience, and I thought my life pay-off would take until I was 21, 25 at most. Now I’ll turn 60 on May 1st of next year and I still don’t grasp the waiting. The Great Work indeed. It’s just that my ego is wearing down, although my mania keeps on throbbing, 20 hours a day. Luckily, it’s not a matter of self-publishing or Random House, the urgent throbbing issue I’ve pondered all week.  Hey, they in the expensive suits never did it right anyway, even with my first, The Main Event. That was on professional wrestling and Vince McMahon promoted it in his own arenas and TV shows. The Dial Press did doodie. Sure, the books looked nice, but the re-printing took forever, the product never arrived when I was there, and I could go on. All the white glove prestige still stands though. Even today. Until they slap a fancy cover on it and take 90% of your earnings, you can’t really be a writer, an author. Self-published? Gawd.  You must be bad. Fifty Shades of Why Can’t Everyone in The World Stop Talking About This?  Because Rachel, the Book Physician is right. It’s a fluke. A Powerball ticket. Like the one pretty girl who comes here from Kansas (I live in LA, right near Hollywood Blvd., which isn’t Hollywood) and becomes a movie star without knowing someone or being the daughter of someone else. A fluke. You have to write a good book. My professor/mentor John, who liked to put his hand up my skirt (hey, this was way before Anita Hill and sexual harassment as a concept) said: “you have to decide, do you want to be rich, or do you want to be great?”  I always thought both would be fine. But Gandalf is gray,grey, whatever. LIVING UNDER THE INFLUENCE is a fine first draft, well, 3/4 of a first draft. It has several problems. I don’t even need a doctor to focus light on them, but then again, Rachel is brilliant and a mighty fine writer, so much so it would be nice to have her sit with me one day a week. I was an editor for 30 years, and about the writing, well, you can go to https://www.amazon.com/author/robertamorgan and see I am an author of more than one book,  also you can go here: http://www.robertamorgan.com and learn all about me, at least on the surface. They’re both near the very top layer of the onion’s skin. Living Under The Influence now, it exposes the 2nd through 25th layer, and Rachel, darn her, caught me right away. Well, there’s so many more, aren’t there? The whole thing, Roberta, is that you’ve had this amazing and tragic life, being SO honest no one ever wrote this way but BS you’re not, things just don’t jive. Making things a little too nice, too packaged and just when you can’t deal, oops, off you go to another chapter in time and place, which is one excuse for why you fought for non-linear excerpts from the 1960’s through to the present, from the suburbs of NYC to Los Angeles via London and Miami Beach, till the bitter end. Yes madam doctor, I run from the worst of the truth in myself but mostly in others. Hell, we all do it. Drugs, lovers, booze, divorce, talking too much, spending, moaning, whatever–stay away from the real deal here. But this book, what is special was not that I messed around with Jagger or had a radio show the night OJ ran, or went to Woodstock, or got a DUI because I had a nervous breakdown in LA. What made and will make this book a different memoir is that it’s a big life I’ve had and will continue to have, and it’s time to pause and write about it all, like the fourth step of AA, the complete moral (hate that word) inventory. THE TRUTH. And yes, it will hurt me writing it, and hurt others when it comes out. But they must be written as scenes, not like reportage. Right down to the core of the onion. They will set me free and hopefully, will touch people about the human condition of pain, survival and possible redemption. That the Higher Self can win against the ego nature if it is ever vigilant, moment by moment, no matter what crappy things happen to us at however young we are. Or whenever. The first polish has to be redone from the top. It seems, LOL, that I was not only slurring my speech, courtesy of modern psychotropic drugs. I was slurring my words on the page! Withdrawing as I wrote, Rachel was astonished at how I went from competent to okay, to good to WOW as she read my 300+ms. I’ll tell depressed and anxious writers in the future not to take all those pills, or they’ll slur their prose! When it comes down to it, I won’t be able to bail my love and I out of an-all-work-no-play situation in flash time. I always told my students and writers to count on at least three drafts, a good year or more of crafting. I knew that, yet I didn’t. The ego remains the child who steals the cookies and hopes she won’t get caught. But she will, and yet she tries for decades. When she learns, she can move on. Satan or God can publish this book. Doesn’t matter. It’s the book that matters, the only thing which counts for anything in the equation. Not the links, clicks, likes, shares, tags, blogs, websites, publicity, apps. The Book. Everything else stands in service to that, as it should be. Lose sight of that, and we’re lost. Wish me well on this journey; it’s getting closer to the last chance Texaco.Image

“Man is, at one and the same time, a solitary being and a social being. . . .”

                            —Albert Einstein

Now, it would seem to me, that this describes our current emerging and most satisfying relationships in the social networking society. I feel as though I am in freshman orientation during my first week at NYU, with all the energy and enthusiasm of my 16 years on earth,looking forward to a limitless future in an immensely exciting city. But this time, decades later, people are buzzing around me from all corners of the world; I am surprised when I find a post so friendly and knowledgeable about my work coming from Finland or France.

I sit here in Los Angeles, the third city in which I’ve lived, and for the first time no longer an isolated, manic insomniac writer with a DUI and a breathalyzer (an IID, or device from the demon factory) attached to my car. I am a citizen of the world. An only child, I’m not used to having so many friends, and yes, all of you, each one, are friends. People with blogs, on Facebook, on Twitter, on Linked In, etc. particularly on Facebook, simply because it’s where I’ve been posting for a year. There’s Kim, whom I love, and Pierre-Andre (I hurt him by a sharply worded post about God, but we quickly reconnected through the Higher Self and only grew closer.) Then there’s the lovely April, I can picture her before me having coffee, having studied her photos and wait for her messages brimming over with warmth. Anne means the world to me, and when she has a good day, it makes mine a bit better.

Arlene is someone I truly admire, because she is, like me, one of the few older posters who refuses to stop and sit by the side of the road. Instead she’s right alongside, learning to network and link and I encounter her at Pinterest on my way back to tweet someone.  There are so many new friends I cannot count and more I’m yet to know better, I can’t wait.  Just posted this to them

I’m blogging about you guys over at WordPress. Be right back. Meanwhile, I’m remembering my first trip to California when I was in my 20’s. Didn’t think much of LA, but I loved the giant redwoods up North. Sat among them and inhaled that smell. It was then I knew what meditation was, instantly. Looking up, so engulfed by nature, feeling such peace, not one bit alone, but so loved…..

And then there are the old and dearest ones I have reconnected with, the good friends from New York and Miami. Irela, the sweetest and smartest–shining Miami light, who I now find in big business with a beautiful son and whom I remember, standing alongside me at one of my plays, starring the beautiful and talented Lisa (who now lives in LA with hubby and little angel, Maya), Irela working with the man who would become the father of her gorgeous child.

Nat such a surprise and cherished memory I thought lost as a corporeal being, the genius, with the most class I ever met, the charmer who wowed a wide-eyed 21-year-old, Britt, my first editor in 1978 at The Dial Press, with whom I always had an almost psychic connection. Now renewed, as if not a day has passed, we call each other regularly and send music over e-mails. Jonathan, a new but dear friend, who’s taught me so much about Israel and about life, and of course Michael Gross, my best friend in LA, who dragged me onto Facebook in the first place.

I am writing a book, which will be my 11th, a quirky form of memoir (I don’t like rules) called LIVING UNDER THE INFLUENCE, which on the web, I sometimes refer to as LUI (given the love for acronyms), and on Facebook, on my timeline, I offer excerpts. In fact the whole book is non-linear and I know I’ll have the fight of my life to keep it that way, but each excerpt is a story from a different time and place of my story and they do fit together like omens and portents and pieces of a puzzle. FB is what kept me going, and for the first time since the age of eight, when this gift burst out of me and the pressure was on, I suddenly loved writing, I was in my dharma, and there you all were. Everything made sense.
Now there is Morgen, whom I wish to hire to re-design and focus this blog a bit better, and the very talented writer and editor Rachel, whom I will be working with next week on the 3/4 of the manuscript which is completed. When I started the project, the thought of self-publishing was like the old vanity publishing and so insulting to me, once a senior editor and twice a bestseller, I didn’t give it a thought. But I should have known better, because I’m a magician. That means a privately trained metaphysician, who learned long ago (but one never learns without constant vigilance) that the EGO is one’s worst enemy and is quick to judge such things, so often leading us astray. So when even Britt mentioned it, I began to explore.

Today I have come to many conclusions about my publishing plans, and which steps I might take, knowing that the old road was inefficient and in many ways, incompetent, and that for the author, the new road–through blogs, websites, Kindle e-books, and then, perhaps, a traditional house, might be a better a wiser route. Then again, I will leave it up to my Higher Self to show me the path. My job is simply to write.

It’s funny. I have two books aching to get out of this machine that you’ll love. One is a sort-of vampire tale, romantic and erotic, set in the adult industry, not for the kiddies. The one I spoke of, LUI, is for anyone acquainted with the human condition, but R-rated. And after that, my poetry, which has been published since I was a teenager but lately, lies neglected in various files within my Apple. I dig it out from the wildest places, like my Tax folder.  Anyway, I was thinking of what I’d use to build an Author‘s page for Amazon, totally forgetting I was an author.  So I went there yesterday, typed my name in, and what?  It said, among my books, Roberta E. Morgan, Author’s Page!
https://www.amazon.com/author/robertamorgan
I left one open space, for a Kindle e-book.
My new friend, my astrologer, Patrice Cole, told me it should be out by my birthday, which is May 1st. I’m a pro as far as polishing. Besides, I love rewriting, playing with words, truly I do.  And all of you can help.  Constructive advice I can take or not, but I again trust the universe to bring it to me.  The way the flow of things ever positive brought all of you.

The same friends either in front of me at a table for coffee or in front of me at my computer desk. Just keep in touch.

Roberta