This is the beautiful in-between time, an important time. The ground is thawing, the air is warming, the sun is stronger and casts a pale but warmer kind of light. In the morning, we travel across Lulu’s Crossing, the spot Lulu made famous by refusing to cross it into the the ground was leveled properly.
Maria leads the way with Fate, then the sheep, then Red moving the herd from behind, then me, and behind me, the donkeys. I love the rich color of my Archomat art lens, the Russian glasses is softer and less literal than the other lenses. We only had the sun for an hour and it won’t be returning to us until Monday.
But my writing class will meet in the morning. We also plan to dig a hole for Gus this weekend, the ground is getting soft enough, we hope to bury him in one of the gardens Monday or Tuesday.
On many levels, the Mansion has been a learning experience for me, for things big and small. As I get to know the residents and they get used to me, and Maria, I see more and learn more. Bingo is not just a game at the Mansion, it’s a ritual, and an important one.
Here, more than any other activity that I have seen, the residents find a kind of community. They watch out for each other, help one another, share prizes and make sure no one gets left out or left behind.
About half of the players need some kind of assistance – the stroke victims can’t move their fingers easily to mark their cards, so we move around to help them. One of the players can’t see, another is almost completely deaf, another has memory issues.
One has tremors. Our friend Susan Popper comes to Friday Bingo when we can, tonight she sat beside Joan, who won two rounds of Bingo. Joan can’t see the cards herself but she loves to play and join the community.
The residents usually concentrate on their own games. There is sometimes conscious cheating – the prizes are important to them – and sometimes unconscious. The games begin at 6 p.m. and end at 7 p.m., when the residents tire and begin getting ready for bed. Once or twice during the games, the staff comes in and brings medicines.
We got a new regular, Jackie, who came to the Mansion a few weeks ago, and loves Bingo. She is quite shy. The residents are gracious about welcoming newcomers.
Maria and I take turns calling the numbers, and the players kid us, if they don’t fill up their cards, they shout for another caller. Wayne calls for Red to call the numbers. I am always surprised at how tired we are when the game is over. We are very happy doing this together.
Maria and I called our regular Friday night bingo game at the Mansion, a full and very boisterous house for the game, we ran out of bingo cards. Afterwards, we stopped by the Activity Room, and Madeline and Alice were watching Wheel Of Fortune. Maria sat down to chat with them, Red went to work.
This picture struck me as emblematic. We were five minutes late arriving, and I think the warming weather is getting spirits to soar. There was a minor uprising in protest, they wanted to get the game going, we were greeted with table-pounding and many demands to get moving. We got moving.
The residents were in a boisterous mood.
It was a special night, a fun night. When we got started, the tables were full, we ran out of cards. Almost everybody won and got a prize. The crowds are getting bigger at Bingo, and we are becoming skilled at keeping order, helping people who need it, and keeping the game going.
Before the Mansion, I never once played bingo, life is deliciously strange.
Like everyone else, Joan has good days and bad days. I arrived at the Mansion one day last week and found that Joan was having a bad day. A cardinal rule of volunteering in hospice or assisted care is that you don’t try to cheer people up, you accept them right where they are.
Joan has a mischievous sense of humor and I find that she is sometimes sad because she is sometimes bored, her distraction and memory loss can make i difficult for her to do many of the things other people do.
She does love to be photographed, so I did propose a deal. I had a new portrait lens with me – I took this photo with it. I told Joan I would take her photo, but only if she could smile. Generally, I don’t take pictures of sad or angry people, it doesn’t make for a good portrait.
Joan seem surprised at first, and then said, “who? me?” Yes, I said, you. Smile at my bald spot. And she did. Joan’s smile can light up a room. The bald spot thing also works for the refugee kids.
I’ve decided to write another book, but in a radically different way.
I will publish my 27th book myself, in partnership with my gifted agent Christopher Shelling of Selectric Artists. We’ll sell it only at one place in America: my local bookstore, Battenkill Books.
I suppose you could call it an anti-corporate book, an affirmation of community and the individual creative spirit.
I’m at a rather momentous (for me) turning point in my life as a writer.
I became a full time book writer nearly 40 years ago, and that is an accomplishment, something I am proud of. Until the past few years, I loved every minute of it. It is hard to love it so much now.
In 2007, II started this blog, bedlamfarm.com because I saw the effects of the corporate takeover of publishing. Corporate takeovers are never good news for people like me, I have no idea how to survive in a corporate environment, even as corporations subsume our country and our world.
It turned out to be worse than I expected, and I don’t care to write any more my books in that way, or contribute my shrinking sales the mega-companies that have devoured publishing and nearly destroyed it.
Mid-list writers like me – once best sellers but now driven to the edge by the new mega-sellers (Shades Of Grey and political screeds), are of little interest to the new conglomerate publishers. I just don’t sell enough books.
I’ve been running ahead of the Corporate Steam Engine all of my life – newspapers, television, publishing. I’ve been able to get one step ahead of them, but they are always breathing down my neck. I don’t want to run any more, it will be awhile before they get their hands on blogs. (giving up a free and open Internet might do it).
I’m making my last stand here on Bedlam Farm.
The blog has become the focal point of my writing, as many of you know, with voluntary payments and donations filling some of the holes left by the decline in advances and royalties.
The blog was a radical step at the time, it was rare for a writer to publish so regularly anywhere but in a paper book. I was warned that I was sticking my neck out, and there it is, out even more.
But it was a great move for me, the blog is my great work, my living memoir.
It now defines me as a writer. I love writing on it every single day and sharing my photographs, I love it in the way I loved my books. I will miss the bigger payout of a book advance, and fat royalty checks are a memory, but I have freedom and satisfaction in my work. I’ll take the deal.
My idea is to keep the blog and find another way to love writing books. This may be it.
I thank you for supporting my work, you make it possible.
So now, another chapter, another step for me, another step forward for the life of the new writer. Connie Brooks of Battenkill loves the idea, and so does Christopher Schelling, he is my agent. He gets it and wants to be part of it. Together, I think we can make a good book and sell it. This will be a 50-50 split all the way, him and me.
My next book, “Gus And Good And Bad Lessons Of Bedlam Farm,” will be published by Simon and Schuster next Spring, almost certainly in January, I am told. I turned the book in last October and it has not been read or looked at since. It is the story of how the 2016 presidential election changed my life and taught me so much about life and how to stay grounded and do good. Gus was a part of that.
It will be my last corporate and commercial book.
I will work hard for it. The book was finished before Gus died and before I get our next puppy, expected in a few months. My new book begins with Gus’s illness and death and ends with the new puppy. Two puppies in one book will get my next book moving.
This isn’t personal, no one is out to get me. This is the way writers are generally treated now in the Corporate Nation, even five time New York Times best sellers. I accept life and move on, whether it’s a book deal or a dying dog.
Corporate publishes no longer support writers or support their books. Writing, always a lonely profession, is lonelier still.
The writer is on his own, and if I did not have my blog, the one my editors told me was a stupid idea, I would not be a writer today.
So if I am on my own, I might as well publish my next book on my own and take responsibility for myself. I want to have fun again, to bring back the magic of creating something personal and worthy. I’d love to sell a lot of books, but more importantly, I want to make the process of writing a book joyous and creative.
So I’m moving forward with another book, but a different kind of book. I want to continue what I started with the blog and the donations program.
The book will include color and black and white photos, and new text about Gus’s life, his illness, the small dog experience, and his death. And it will end with a new puppy. I will explore the nature and boundaries of grieving over animals.
No Amazon, no book tours, no driving hundreds of miles at my own expense.
Here’s what is new about this book: I will publish it in co-operation with Christopher, a pioneer in new media and publishing. I don’t know yet it it will be an e-book. It will only be sold in one place: Battenkill Books, my local bookstore, owned by my friend Connie Brooks. No Amazon, no national distribution, no offline media campaign.
It will be drive by word of mouth, or not at all, and sold to order. That means when people buy the book, it will be printed. No huge stacks in the warehouse waiting to ship, no inventory piling up for Connie, no risk for Christopher, who will handle production, or Connie, who will be the sales team. And small risk for me, also. I don’t need to fear the sale of thousands of copies rather than millions. Whatever happens will be a success for us.
I am happy to take this different course in writing, this will help me to love books again. I hope you will share the journey with me.
