On tour: Heading Home
2 Oct
The tour is winding itself down and we’re slowly working our way back to Los Angeles. Charlie Hoehn flew home this morning and while we’ll see him when we pass through Denver, his leaving really drives home that this is almost over.
It’s been a long two months. And when I think of all the miles covered and all the venues we premiered in and all the bars where we met fans, I have a hard time holding it all in my head. It feels like a lifetime. Like I can’t remember what my life was like before this tour started.
People ask me, every night they ask me, what the best story from the tour is. And I tell them about the craziness that surrounds us. The girls who throw themselves at Tucker, the fans who buy us drinks. I tell them about the after parties and what it’s like to bask in the reflected fame of what Tucker has built. I tell them about a world I never expected to find myself in. Where we are the rock stars and everyone else is looking in.
And I tell them these things because that’s what they want to hear. I don’t blame them, if I was standing where they were, that’s what I’d want as well. But for me, the best moments are never going to be the craziest. The best moments, the ones I’m going to carry with me are the ones where we, the crew, are all just hanging out. It’s all the dinners we had together and all the late nights in random hotel rooms. It’s all the hours we spent together on the bus crossing the country.
I don’t know how the movie is going to do. That particular drama is unfolding and will continue to unfold. If I didn’t believe in this project I would have never volunteered to be a part of it. Now that we’re almost done, I have no regrets. We all came together to do something pretty amazing, we took care of each other when we needed to and if nothing else, I’m going to walk away from this with friends that I hope I’ll keep for the rest of my life. For all my writing about how the only thing that matters in life are your experiences, without anyone to share those experiences with, life is a hollow, empty affair.
I don’t know what my next step is. It’s almost guaranteed that I’ll move out of LA but beyond that, where I’m going and whether I stay in the country or not, is all up in the air. And I know I’ll write more about the tour when I’ve had some time to process everything that’s happened and I’ve gained some perspective on it all.
It’s been instructive. I’ve had a front row seat to just how much work it takes to be successful as an artist. I thought I knew how hard it was. As it turns out, I had no idea. But going forward, I have a better idea the path that I’ll have to walk.
So, stay tuned to this space. There will be a lot here in the coming months.
And if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for tonight’s event.
Don’t stop writing, Ben. I only wish you could write more often, but alas there are things to be done. Keep on doin’ what you’re doin’.
Will you continue your blog after Nov. 1st or will you be leaving as well?
This blog will continue long after November 1st.
Keep your Darlings
We don’t know who said it originally, but Ben Corman mentions Mark Twain and F. Scott Fitzgerald. It has penetrated most writing circles and forums, including one of mine, through Stephen King’s recent book On Writing. Basically, it means get rid of that incredible piece that you’ve written because, while tantalizing and perfectly crafted, it doesn’t advance the story. Lose the misfit.
As a poet rather than a novelist or short story writer, it struck me that writing poetry is about birthing your darlings, not killing them. Look for darlings everywhere. In fact, keep the darlings, kill the story or the progress, whatever you think you should tell. Get inside the darling. So to speak.
But, of course, poets have a kind of darling too. Sue Goyette calls them ticks. The word you love to repeat. The phrase. The ending. The truth of the matter is that, properly handled, these ticks might be part of the story. Like the recognizable stutter of a friend. Only poorly crafted repetition is redundant. These sweethearts, collected, and played off each other in interesting ways, might just be one of the threads.
So, in short, I’m for darlings. Don’t kill them. Get them drunk on champagne, dress them in silk, take them to an abandoned area. Hold them awhile but keep them happy and stunning and well-fed. You never know when you’ll need them. Of if they might surprise you.
(thought this might interest you since it spurred me to write this)