Poking the Stick with Rick

It only seems fitting, and fit is very important to me, that since Rick honored (honoured for Pete and Flydoll) me as his first interviewee...whee.....that I reciprocate, or return the favor (favour). And I do this with no sense of obligation, I just wanna, and I almost always do what I wanna, I'm like that, arrogant cocky fucker that I am. And so it shall pass, and so it shall be, whee........I'ma put the DUDE on my blog marquis and expose the exposer, the poser, the weaver, bobber, and bullshitter...here, live and in person, for your viewing and reading pleasure, the one and only over the top, topless, without a bottom, over, under, sideways, down....my man Rickster, stew, do and over due so with no further adieu.........I bring you, the wordsmithsterrickster, in all his nipple pierced whorey glory.

So dude.....it's no secret, and has been stated before with my own hand (oh if this hand could talk) that you and I first encountered each other as commenters on Charkey's blog (may she rest in blog peace RIBP as it says on her not found blogstone). And again, as previously stated, my intial musing was .....WTF is with this dude? This under the big top, topped out circus performer on the high wire fired up wordy dude runnin' and funnin' his ass into my Charkey world? And for moi, redneckedfuckingmoi......I reacted uncharacteristically from my competitive nature, my dick is bigger usual approach......and I fucking bought in. Now why would you do that Edge you are probably wondering. Well, lemme tell ya. I started reading, and I read, and I read, and my jaw gaped, my in awe jaw......and well now fuck, I said, well now fuck......dude can write. And this is about the third time I've said such but it's worth repeating................dude writes like I think. And isn't that what great writing is about? Writing how you think? It is so not fucking easy though.......so not easy. So Ricky........we all wanna know, don't we kids??........when did this word burst first..(say that outloud to yourself....word burst first.....see......that's writing and I only did it cause I'm writing about the dude who does it so effortlessly)............when did you first realize that a pen and paper were as important to you as your erect penis?

damn... that was an introduction. and thanks for doing this... it does mean so much to me. there is so much to comment on already, but i'll just stick to the questions... i have a feeling that if i stray, this will be one LONG interview...

when did i first realize? i guess i've always kind of known... i've always looked at certain situations and said "that would make a great chapter in a novel..." or "i could so write a scene about that in a screenplay..." etc.

it wasn't until blogging that i actually tried to put some of that stuff on paper... errr... screen. it was small baby steps at first, but then later on i was taking these big huge leaps, afraid of nothing. i've had some help along the way. i've had some huge influences... and hopefully somehow, i've found my voice. i want to be unique, solitary even... to be someone who writes well, and captures situations differently, and can blindside you with funny shit too. it's not that i want my voice heard by millions, it's not that at all... i just want to have my voice recognized as different, but nice... a pleasant sound...

and now this writing thing is the most serious aspect of my life. it's not a hobby. oh no, it's so much more than that... it's part of me. it's me on paper. it's my mirror, my dreams, my pain... my life.

me.

just me...

and hopefully there are enough people that like me, that i could get something published. maybe. oneday. possibly. who knows.

In March of this year, you referenced Jason and Cubes Melted, Scotch Gone and Jason's influence on you. When did you first encounter Jason, how did you find him, and what has he meant to your motivation to write fiction? Is he a catalyst, a mentor, a coach, or a muse for you? Or all of the above? He is a talent and his style is unique. Has he influenced you to develop your own style? You've got this gunslinging Western on the road Kerouac thing going on and I assume this is the Texas that permeates a Texan. Tell us about your wiley coyote stylings.

jason. wow. just writing about him i get teary. (get ready for long-winded ramblings...)

i stumbled across jason by some freak accident. he was commenting on some blog, confidence booming like old cannons, and i thought "oh this guy is good..." i followed his link, and read his entire blog.

the feeling that came over me was amazing. it seems funny to say it now, but he opened a voice inside me. a voice that i knew i had, but had no idea how to let it out. he was my personal instruction booklet... he showed me how to explain the unexplainable, how to imagine the unimaginable, how to feel the unthinkable.

from the beginning, he knew what was going on. he knew he would be my mentor... that i would try and follow in his footsteps, those huge lovely fucking footsteps. but, it's more than just being a mentor, he's my friend... and i do owe him so much.

as we both know, writing is personal. i would love to be able to write like jason, but i can't. i've tried, and failed. but, i have my own now... i have my groove. it's wonderful tapping in to it. i love making the mental shift. it's far different than correspondence... it's almost like accepting a new personality.

part of my style comes from growing up in southeast texas... the way that my friends and i have conversations. for example, any of the north highway 6 conversations are exactly how my friends and i talk... i guess i was about 19 or 20, and my best friend (smokey or lifesaver, they're both the same person) lived with me for a while. we had this entirely stupid conversation each morning. i would take a shower and he would say:

"i got a towel for you."

"you got a towel for me?

"yes, i got a towel for you."

"i'm glad you got a towel for me."

"the towel is here, in my hand."

"i can see the towel there in your hand."

over and over and over again. little things like that make it into my writing... not exactly like that, but the template of it. the repititions.

but mostly, i have no idea where it comes from. like i say, it's always been there. i never think about what i'm writing. honestly, it just flows out.

i do love wordplay, and playing with words that normally wouldn't be played with. to make words "player words" instead of just word words. i like clashing commentary... i like putting two words together that don't fit... like "her eyes shined like a carbon-fiber mirror"... it makes no sense. but, if you say it like "i kissed her dark body, full of sweat. my face close to her belly, like looking into a carbon-fiber mirror." well, maybe it still doesn't make sense, but it's different. it causes you to think differently. that maybe this dark body is so different from any dark body that you've ever seen. it's so different that you want to believe there is such a thing as carbon-fiber mirrors.

but, just as important, edge... is you. you showed me how to connect what i've written, to how it will be read. i think it's important to know how the author reads, they way that he or she will use words verbally. it's why i love doing audioposts. it completes the picture.

Then there is the blogger's conundrum, am I writing for myself or am I writing for others? Many use their space as their place to record their personal thoughts, their journal, their diary. Anyone could do that here and maintain complete anonymity, and some do. But the fact that their musings are here on the world wide web indicates an acceptance that it is out there for any and everyone to see. The other end of that spectrum of course is wanting an audience, and I think many do. I believe that there are more comment whores than those who squirm when they see an invasion of their space. Let's just bring it right out in the open here and mutually admit that you and I have, in the past, been in the former category. Not to say that we pander and perform shamelessly to the adoring masses, OK, OK, maybe we are both guilty of having done our share of pandering. But it's different now for you, and for me as well. Instead of seeking to spread our wares across a stadium sized venue we've moved ourselves to a more intimate, smaller club like atmosphere. I've seen you get stagefright from the pressure to perform and have something there every day for your loyal following. I think you may take more pride in what you post than I, I have a tendency to put up just about anyfuckingthing. I also think we both fall into that love to entertain category. How does it feel go from the 30-40 comments per post to becoming a veritable fugitive, no longer having your name on the marquis with scheduled showtimes and matinees? Do you miss the attention? And that's not to imply that either one of us is now or ever was an attention slut, no, nuh uh, I'm sure it just aint so. No way it's our way of seeking validation. Now that I've established what it aint, tell me what it is O wise and wordy one.

have i told you how excited i am to be doing this with you? honestly, it's like sitting around in comfy lounge chairs, sharing a nice, cold indian pale ale.

i love blogging. i do... it has this quality that not many other mediums have. there is a freedom to explore who you are, and for the most part there is a fiberous clan of commentors who watch as you grow. they give back more than you could ever possibly give. it makes the grass grow in my backyard. it makes me squint when i take too big of a bite... what i'm trying to say is it's rich.

i can remember when i finally started hitting a rhythm with tripping and it started showing up in blogrolls. and then the comments started to increase... and increase... and increase. soon, i had no idea who was actually reading the blabber i was throwing up. here i was, exploring through writing my femanine side, my masculine side, my gay side, my loving side, my hateful beat the fuck out of you side, my make believe side... all this was going up for the world to see, and for the most part people liked it.

one of my first commentors was kelli... i still remember her first comment like it was yesterday... "let me just start out saying that i'm honored that you have a link to my blog." that was her first words to me. now, over a year later, she has commented on almost every single one of my posts. even when i didn't read her blog, she still commented. even through all her studies and school and family issues... she still commented daily. how amazing is that? how can i not love her for that... sometimes, i think about her as if she were a sister, even though i may never meet her.

soon, i realized that my writing affected someone... it has an effect. i really had no intentions of letting my wife read, but after a while i needed validation... was all this stuff that my commentors saying true? did i really have a unique style? am i a writer?

and i couldn't stop with just sara, i had to have smoke read... did he think that i was good enough to be considered a writer?

edge... what i'm talking about is a life changing event. i am a writer. unashamed, unpublished, uneducated... but still i'm a writer. it's not a hobby. it's not a fad. it is part of me... the words burn my bones, and the clacking keyboard flames the fire. there is a simpleness to it. yes, life changing.

so for me, having my blog rolled 47 times isn't that big of a deal anymore... i don't need the spotlite, because... well, because i am free to be a writer. in the beginning yes... i needed every comment every day to quiet those annoying voices in my head that said "you aren't good enough..." and praise the lord that those voices were there, because they propelled me... they made me try harder, to think broader, to explore every aspect of who i am in written word.

but after a year, i have found who i am in the written world. my voice can be as quiet as a school mouse, as silly as a licking puppy dog, or as loud as a KISS fanclub. and i'm better for it.

and it's natural to drift, huh? you start out in the same place as a few other people, but time kind of pulls you away. you pair up with those who have similar interests and style, and before you know it a circle is formed... a cohesive loving circle of those who know you best and accept you for everything you are. that's where we are. we are in a circle... full of love and pride and an overlooking eye.

we have changed, you and i... because of this blogging thing.

Wanna talk about women? I do, so let's. Despite me being twice your age and single and of course conversely you being half mine and very married, we gravitate toward the same women. First there was the aforementioned Charkey (RIBP), then Bored Housewife, then a whole host, a beautiful bevy, an astounding array of wonderful women with whom we've shared company, good times and bad times, love and lust with no fuss (well hardly any). I'll forget somebody here because I'm doing this from memory so she who is forgotten please come forth and call me out, but.......

SSFlyJenLaineMuseMaddyLynnKelli MagzMysticChristineJazzyClareNamelessAngelMariaStacy

all come to mind. I would, and will, applaud our excellent taste. I'd do it now but I can't clap and type with an erect penis. That's the third time I've typed penis this week and it still makes me uncomfortable, for some reason it always brings the word drip to mind due to it's clinical nature and that's just sick. I know we both treat women differently now than we have in the past and I think these wonders of womanhood in particular are no small part of that evolution for us.

These women love you and your words. But the words are only part of it, I think compassion and the ability to see and comprehend the feminine view of life is a huge part of it. Brutal honesty and the willingness to expose your weaknesses at the basest level is part of it too along with the respect they have for your relationship, your unconditional love of Sara and your children. Talking specificially about this gaggle of Goddesses and stellar members of the distaff side is a thesis and a study in the joys of girlhood in itself so, in general terms with as much specificity as you choose to delve into...........talk to me about girls, go on, tell me where you got the respect you have for women which I think is a very close second on their list of wants and needs, depends on whether sex is a separate category but for these women I suspect it is a subheading under love which is always number one.

Talk girls to me man, come on spill.

my mother is beautiful. when i had hair, she would run her fingers through it and whisper sing old church hymns. i can remember being the backseat of our car, speeding through colorado, and my head laying on my mother's lap. she was, and is, the definition of love.

it goes back to those simple things that most people take for granted... a loving mother saying things like "don't stare... don't point... if you can't say anything good, don't say anything at all..." i was always very aware of how my actions made others feel.

and it is with those basic principles that i love women. i can't not love women... it's the same as i love the men in my life, but for some strange reason i gravitate towards women more. actually, it's very similar to sara gravitating towards men.

see, there's something special about an opposite gender understanding what the other side feels and needs. sara is a guy's girl... she prefers hours of nonsense on the side porch over shopping. she understands the male species and fits in rather nicely. plus, she has a great ass.

conversely, i understand women. i know how to love them, to feel them. i understand what's important... and that talking is primary.

when i was in austin a few weeks ago, my best friend justin and his girlfriend jackie were showing us around town. we had spent the better part of the day drinking at various pubs and as the day ended, we shared a few final beers. i looked at jackie and asked "do you remember the first kiss with justin?" justin smiled and looked away, shaking his head slightly embarrased. if it was up to him, he would probably never talk about stuff like that...

but...

jackie beamed. she sat up and told the most amazing story of love... their love. she kissed him on his cheek, she reached across and held my hand, she looked sara in the eye... she opened up... she became more beautiful.

i feel good when i make others feel beautiful... i love the radiant heat of a beautiful woman feeling beautiful because of something i said... or did...

something funny happened a few years ago. i don't exactly know when, but i grew up. i found out that true beauty is held on the inside... that being beautiful has nothing really to do with looks. it's in a laugh, in posture, in painted nails. it's the subtle connection of eyes, a weathered hand, a faded tattoo. it's in the out of date hair style and almost in fashion clothing, it's a hand placed on the shoulder of a spouse, and an elderly couple holding hands. for me, beauty has changed.

i'm sexual. i'm in control. i'm confident. much in the same way that you are. yet, i'm not afraid to admit my faults, or that i'm balding. maybe this makes me a little vulnerable... i don't know. but, it's true. i'm balding. and, i can fuck like a rabbit.

i'm sure that some people will read my blog and think this guy is a player. he's using women to stroke his ego, and to be quite frank... i worry with that. i don't want to be seen as that guy. i can't change who i am though... i can't become someone who doesn't think about sex. someone that doesn't get turned on when reading a sexy post, because that's just part of it. as much as i love the hnt's and the sexy posts, i'm drawn more to the heart wrenching why god is this happening to me posts...

when i first read maddylove, i fell in love. from the very first post. i was so attracted to her that i was afraid of scaring her off... she was a proud broken angel, and so beautiful because of it. even now, thinking about that powerful, precious soul, i get chills. she has my heart. my whole heart, and it has absolutely nothing to do with sex.

much in the same way that i love flydoll... we are just two people that love to share compassion and emails. lately i've been away from the computer... it's just not meshing well with my current situation. yet i know that every time i check my email, she will be there. a warm smile from far away with words like "you are special... you are strong... you mean so much..." again, completely non-sexual.

this is the other side of commenting, when the casual flirting that people see is replaced with deep watered caring that people won't see.

i carry them with me daily. these women of my written world. i could never show most of them how big an impact they have made... or how i've changed because of them.

Great stuff, but I feel like we've barely scratched the surface of your balls or mine to say nothing of our asses. So as not to appear overly self enthralled, which we both are, perhaps we should issue this as Part One and let it speak for itself, soak, sink in and be sopped up like the biscuits and honey we so love.

Yeah, that's what we'll do, and next we can delve into Rick, The Early Years. From Bawling to Brawling. The Suckling Years, from Nursing to Nurse Fantasies. Probing questions about bed wetting , thumb sucking and whether you've ceased both, or either. Infant Crawling to Adult Drunken Crawling.

And, of course, we'll discuss in detail the North American Book Signing Road Show and Drunken Debauchery tentatively planned for launch in Summer 2006.

Rick is back to writing daily on http://newspell.blogspot.com/ as he does word push ups and heavy lifting of multisyllabic offerings in preparation for NaNoWriMo.
www.nanowrimo.org

Stay tuned, coming to a blog near you, Part Two.