J.A. Pitts

That critical moment when a writer is forged.

I have to give the guys of Rush significant credit in me being a published author. I’ve never met them (what a dream come true that would be), but they’ve been in my life nearly every single day since I was 16..

I’ve been a Rush fan since Moving Pictures first came out in 1981. It was the first album I purchased with my own money. Still have it, and most of the rest on vinyl up until CDs came out.

I’ve recently been getting the older CDs to replace the vinyl, but my favorite still remains Moving Pictures.

I took my son to see them at the Gorge in George, Washington back in 2002. He was 12. First time I’d seen the band live, and the setting could not be more spectacular. It was a religious experience. I’d been a studio snob, avoiding live tracks because I had the studio version in my head, ingrained. But once I saw them live, it opened a whole new vista for me.

The influence Rush has had on my life cannot be understated. Music has a significant impact on my life, and Rush has been the dominant player on the scene.

Back in 1990, before my son was born, I was working as an assistant manager in a large chain retail store in Kentucky. My wife was pregnant with the boy, and we were on a track on what I expected to be an average life. One I soon found onerous and unsatisfactory. We’d both dropped out college several years earlier, which was the right decision at the time, but I was staring down a long career in retail and thinking how I’d end up miserable and bitter.

At this time, I’d almost given up on being a writer, a dream I’d pursued since I was twelve. Taking care of my family was the most important thing to me. I was 25 and skating close to the margins. Two strange events occurred to get me back on the road to college and where I am today.

The first event was a little book I found while cruising through our local book store, Joseph Beth Booksellers. Stuck between two very large tomes of literature criticism, was this tiny little book called Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg. I wasn’t even looking at the Lit Crit books intentionally, I was walking by, looking at books on writing in general, and noticed that they were oddly spaced apart. Pulling them down, I discovered the Goldberg book shoved way in the back, definitely misshelved.

I bought it. Felt like the universe pointed me to that book, ya know? Every day at lunch, I’d leave work and eat someplace else, pull out that book, and fall into the renewed thoughts of being an author.

Months earlier, Rush had released a new studio album, Presto. I had an hour commute each way, but I lived in the country. I was driving 50 miles each way to get to work. I was also salaried, so I worked 50 – 60 hours a week, and my go-home-time was not really consistent. The funny thing was, while I was reading the Goldberg book, every single day, no matter what time I drove home, one of the songs from that album was playing on the radio. The song, “The Pass” really got into my consciousness. The whole song spoke to me, but one verse in particular just echoed in my mind, waking or sleeping for the next few weeks.

“It’s not as if this barricade
Blocks the only road
It’s not as if you’re all alone
In wanting to explode” The Pass, Rush, Presto.

It was like Neil Peart had looked into my heart when he wrote those lines. Like Geddy Lee was talking to me directly as the music blared out of my speakers as I rolled home to my wonderful wife. I’m not sure what Alex Lifeson was doing at the time, but I imagined him in my back seat of my car, jamming out. The way this song is put together is astounding. I think it’s one of their best, musically.

So, here I am, reading this book about finding the zen in writing, and Rush is telling me that the road I’m on isn’t the only one. Suddenly it all fell together and I quit my job.

Now, Kathy was pregnant at the time, which made it not the most intelligent thing I could do in hind-sight. Well, in the short run. In full hind-sight, it was brilliant. We both went back to college, found out way to the west coast, I kick-started my writing again, and now I’m a Tor novelist.

Lots of things happened between those long rides home, exhausted and disheartened, and where I am today. But I give huge props to Natalie Goldberg and the guys of Rush. They opened a path for me that I had given up hope on.

Thanks folks.

Visiting schools

My god-daughter asked me to come to her classroom and talk about being a published author.  Her teacher is apparently excited by the event as well.  So tomorrow at 11am I’ll be going to visit an elementary school and discuss writing with a group of third graders.  How cool is that?

Life is amazing.

Another Black Blade Blues review

And not so much with the love this time.

Very thoughtful review.  Book just didn’t work for this reviewer, alas.

Can’t win ‘em all. Just happy they took the time to give their honest opinion.

More reasons why I love librarians

I snurched this from some friends on Live Journal.

I got my Masters of Science in Library and Information Science way back in 1994 from the University of Kentucky.  I think this video is truly amazing.

Black Blade Blues reviewed over at BlogCritic

Wow. Went to tae kwon do tonight and didn’t die. Was a good class. Great to be back amongst my friends. I missed them.

On the novel front, I came home to a new book review over at Blogcritics.

Read what they have to say.

Guest Blog Post live. Mythos and Environment in Black Blade Blues.

John Ottinger over at Grasping the Wind has allowed me a chance to talk about Black Blade Blues. Check it out.

I love librarians

When I was a kid, I fell in love with the library.  My mother would take us over to this library near my grandparents when it first opened on Sundays, before we went over to Sunday dinner.  She’d let me wander around for a couple of hours.  I was in heaven.  Even at five years old, I knew it was a magical place.  Every one of those books held adventures I’d never be able to experience any other way.  My mother read to us — Robin Hood, Hardy Boys — adventure books that she thought boys would love.  I could fall into a book and leave this world completely.

The gate-keepers to this world of magic, of course, was the librarian.  They were stoic women who sat at these tall desks, with their glasses perched on their noses, or hanging around their necks on little chains.  I thought the chains were fascinating – shiny and exotic.  At five, I fell in love with the librarian.  She was an older woman with grey hair and her chained glasses.  She spoke in hushed whispers and could freeze a child with a look.  We tiptoed past her desk when going from one room of books to another, fearing her wrath.

I remember the first time I walked up to her with a stack of 30 books to check out.  She smiled at me sweetly, patted my hand and carefully explained that while I was certainly ambitious, the library had a policy of only allowing children to check out two books at a time.

I was quite upset, as you can imagine.  She said she’d find my mother and explain it to me, since I was not allowed to check out books on my own and she’d help me understand the reasoning for the rules.

I have a stubborn streak a mile wide, as my friends can attest to.  I told her I was not a little kid, and I was quite smart enough to understand the rules.  She smiled, said okay, and proceeded to explain that children tended to be forgetful with their books, and not read more than two a week.  If I took so many, it would be unfair to the other children.  She went on to say that she was sure I was a good reader, but that reading that many books in a week seemed a bit unreasonable for a child my age.

I didn’t know my mother was in the next row of books and heard this whole exchange, so this story was repeated a bit in our family.

I told the librarian I understood her reasons, but that I was an excellent reader and that the books would not likely last the week.  They were mostly Dr. Seuss and the like, board books for early readers.  She smiled again, but was not convinced, so I took a book from the top of the stack, stepped back away from her desk, and proceeded to read it aloud to her.

She was very sweet.  Helped me pronounce a word I stumbled on, and listened patiently while I read the entire book.  When I was done, she folded her hands on her desk and nodded.  “You are a fine reader,” she told me.  I can still hear her voice in my head forty years later.  “I think we can make an exception to the rule for you.”

My mother came up and they had a bit of a chat.  In the end, I was awarded with my very own library card, under the conditions I understood how very important a responsibility it was.  Then she waived the child rules in my case, putting a star sticker on my card to indicate to the other librarians that I was a privileged reader and could exceed the book limit.

I took home my 30 books and we went to my grand parents for Sunday dinner.  I read almost every one of those books that long afternoon, bound and determined to prove to that wonderful librarian that I was indeed worthy of her time and her trust in me as a star reader.

So, I have a special place in my heart for librarians.  They are the magic keepers — the guardians of wishes and adventures.  Go out and visit your library.  Take a moment to speak with the librarians and let them know how grateful you are for what they do.  They tend to be harried these days, overwhelmed with budget cuts and logistics.  But they also watch for those moments where they can open a new world for a child, or even an adult.

When was the last time you went to the library and walked along the rows of books, dragging your fingers along the spines and opened yourself to the possibilities?  When was the last time you felt the magic?

Morning at the gym.

Since my day job is making my evenings so unpredictable, I’m trying something new. I got up at 5am and hit the YMCA. 30 minutes on the elliptical, upper body work on the circuit and some good stretching. Now I’ve eaten, showered and am ready for the day job. One day, I’ll be back at Tae Kwon Do and everything.

But not today.

Maybe there’ll be writing tonight. Started outlining next book on Saturday.

I am alive… hey, hey

Launched our new system last night. Been a fun six months. Got to learn a ton, and spend some time with an amazing team. Looking forward to the next phase of the project, and maybe getting back to a normal 40 hour work week.

Soon I’ll be posting comments and photos of the Black Blade Blues book launch, including some links to videos.

One of my essays is up at the Tor/Forge newsletter.

Check it out

I hope you find it interesting reading