Expose Yourself

Last night I made spicy Thai chicken curry and served it over quinoa. So what, you ask? For one thing, I am definitely not a foodie and even more assuredly, not a great chef. B) My mother was a terrible cook whose idea of a gourmet meal involved ground beef smothered in a can of Campbell’s vegetable soup. And thirdly, I spent my formative cooking years in Nebraska. For the uninitiated: most indigenous Nebraska meals involve a slab of meat, a copious serving of potatoes, bread and gravy, Jello to represent the fruit/vegetable group and anything with sour cream, cream of mushroom soup and/or Velveeta. Finish it off with thick hunks of cake or pie.

In other words, cooking low-calorie, high-nutrition, spicy, delicious, ethnic meals doesn’t come naturally to me. So how did I reach this gastronomic pinnacle? Completely by accident.

Several years ago I escaped from rural Nebraska to Boulder, Colorado. I can’t quote the vegetarian to carnivore ratio in the Republic of Boulder but we’d be safe to say it’s higher than in Nebraska. I experienced Indian restaurants, vegetarian deli’s, Vietnamese and even, gasp, sushi.

A string of (fortunate or unfortunate depending on how I feel on any given day) events brought me to Flagstaff where I spend my days working for an environmental non-profit. I’ve gone out in the field with real, live vegans. Exposure involved more than the weather. They’ve fed me soyrizo and scrumptious hummus burritos. One of them even gave me my first jar of curry paste. Without noticing it, my palate and recipe list expanded. It now seems natural to serve eggplant stuffed portabella mushrooms with sun-dried tomatoes and call it a meal.

And so it is with writing. (Did you wonder when I was going to get around to that?) Surprisingly, I didn’t start out with the knowledge to write a publishable book. I didn’t even know what ingredients a person might combine to make a good novel. My first attempts resembled a dried up flank steak with a side of canned peas and overly sweet bread pudding smothered in heavy cream.

I started going to conferences, reading books on writing, experimenting, entering contests, going to critique groups. I exposed myself to all manner of writing influences. I’m now getting ready to serve up a savory read with a blend of spices far more interesting than the salt and pepper I limited myself to previously.

I’m no Wolfgang Puck in the kitchen and any time I get a meal on the table it’s still a minor miracle. I admit I’m not an Ann Patchett, Barbara Kingsolver or John Irving. But if I keep exposing myself (not THAT kind of exposing—mind out of the gutter, please) maybe I’ll keep producing an ever more tasty dish—uh--book. Who knows, I might even try fried tofu next time.

What about you? What kind of silly extended metaphors can you come up with for your writer’s journey?

YA KNOW, IT’S ALWAYS SOMETHING NEW!

Darrell James

I like learning new things. In fact, I’ve always thrilled to it. As an adolescent, I would spend much of my time, not on the playground (although there was plenty of that also), but on some excursion into the unknown in search of something new to learn.

I recall (at the age of eight) attending railroading classes at Cincinnati’s Union Terminal. It was a special learning series, just for kids. The seminars were held once a week, on Saturday mornings, and ran throughout the summer. I went alone (my parents trusted me). It took three buses to get me there, leaving early-morning from my small town of Crescent Springs, Kentucky. I had always been fascinated by trains and wanted to know more about them.

I learned a lot that summer, much of which I still retain. But the big pay-off (the real learning) came on the last day of class when we actually got to take a train ride. The trip was only about fifty miles round trip. But…Wow!... eight-years-old, on my own and riding the rails, feeling the rumble of the wheels beneath my feet, and feeling on top of the world!

On another summer, I took the same buses to attend a series of summer long, children’s theatre productions. The costuming, the lighting, the amplified sounds… not to mention the fairytale storytelling… filled me with delight. Live theatre still does that to me.

A lot of time has transpired since those childhood days, but my love of learning has never diminished. I’ve accumulated degrees in both Engineering and Business Administration (mostly for something new to learn). I’ve learned to play a number of musical instruments. And I’ve taken classes in acting, as well as writing and screenwriting. For something else new, I spent the past six months teaching myself HTML. I now build websites in addition to writing the next book. (You can see my handiwork at: http://www.darrelljames.com/ )

Did I mention I read a lot to learn?

I know I’m not alone in this regard. I have been on several author panels in the last year, speaking to senior groups whose programs are geared toward “learning for life”. (Exploritas is one such.) The audiences at these programs are among the most inquisitive and intuitive I’ve run across. And nearly all are avid readers.

When it comes to writing fiction, I go somewhat against the common wisdom of “write what you know.” Instead, I search for ideas that first teach me something I don’t know. And it’s my hope, that when readers read my work, many will come away feeling they’ve experienced something new, as well.

What about you? As a reader or a writer, what were some of your earliest learning experiences? Do you still have a lust for learning?

Darrell has had close to thirty short stories published in various mystery magazines and book anthologies. His debut novel, Nazareth Child, is forthcoming from Midnight Ink in September. It is currently available for pre-order on Amazon.