Haha, it was one of those extra jobs (on top of other piddling extra jobs) at a furniture convention at SF's furniture mart on Market. It was an old building, and the elevators' capacity was for only 10 people. The theme of the conference was the West or the Gold Rush or something, so the "elevator men" had to dress up as cowboys and then make sure no more than 10 people got on an elevator, which was actually challenging because the attendees were mainly burly, aggressive furniture salesman. The main hazard was claustrophobia. I don't think I've ever had longer days.
Ah, hope. As a former talent agent in Hollywood who went on to own and operate the best Jewish Bakery in LA, and then transliterate (a stretch) sign language for kindergartners only to go on to lead the way for change in a large health care conglomerate, I still find myself envious of that elevator man dressed as a cowboy. A great re-introduction, Grant.
Haha, don't get too envious of the elevator man. But I know what you mean: I miss my life when I had jobs like that, when all was new and there was so much to learn and discover. And I'd have strange experiences like that just because they were part of living.
My name is Douglas Adamson and I am a writer too, although somewhat peripatetic. I am trustee of a conservation charity, run a bird watching group, keep hens (whose eggs I trade for pints of Yorkshire ale in my village pub), and garden. I have written all my life as an ad copywriter and self published two satirical novels set in the early 1960s. See my substack for my eclectic posts. I liked the chicken coop story, you were showing the dedication writers have to endure to hone their craft. Every day is a school day, as the saying goes.
I like your mantra: Every day is a school day. Thanks for your kind words! I wish I could trade eggs for pints. Sounds like you've got a nice life set up to be a writer.
THE RABBIT!!! Omg if this were today you could have installed cameras and really ramped up your paranoia! It could have been the next horror sensation! Haha that is a terrifying story though!
now THAT sounds like a story: Santaland Diaries x Clerks x Glengarry Glen Ross? For some reasons, elevator work is gold, even elevator industry work. I did probably a total of 2 weeks at Otis Elevator in Mass. and still, when I see the logo on cars' grooved door-housing, I think, 'Yep. One of ours."
Decades ago, in my garage band days, we called ourselves Otis & the Elevator Operators; we named ourselves such in tribute to the men & women running Macy's elevators. Great days. Before escalators.
Haha, I like this combo: Santaland Diaries x Clerks x Glengarry Glen Ross. It was definitely all of that. The story would have to include a plummeting elevator as well, of course, because I was unable to keep some of those burly salesmen off in the name of safety. ... Love the pride you take in Otis Elevator!
So many Substacks, so little money. It is the lament of all financially strapped writers, hey? The only one I subscribe to is Grant Faulkner's. You are inspirational! I notice I've got a Substack. How the heck did that happen? Between the day job and my passion/writing who has time to maintain a Substack?
Loved hearing the story about writing/shepherding, and I felt right there with you when you described sharing your writing with someone who didn't get it because it needed work. I like your humbleness and also how you kept going. Looking forward to checking out one of your books (Art of Brevity) I just requested through interlibrary loan.
It’s already reactivating some dreams. The opening quote: to film the silhouette of live ants. The reference to Brautigan’s “Lint”: flashback to reading Winesburg, Ohio in high school and resolving to keep a notebook instead of being that man who puts his stories into his pocket where they turn into lint. The quote by Jayne Phillips: to revise a poem I wrote years ago about punctuation and kissing underwater. Wonderful writing! Less, less! (-:
I see what you mean! Yes, it’s clearly been revised until it does inspiring things with words that ordinarily conversation or magazines don’t do. One sentence that stands out on the first page, “the dense weight of William Faulkner’s past (which I share only literarily, not genetically).” And that coupled with “our souls sprawl with this land, after all” brings to mind poet Charles Olson. Anyhow, even without referencing Olson explicitly the writing is evoking some of the most salient parts of what I’ve loved about reading many different books - and this is just in the intro, haven’t even gotten yet to Thirteen Ways of Looking at Flash Fiction, and my comment is already almost as long as the book itself.
Ah, I wish I had been swayed more in that direction as a younger person! I couldn't listen that well back then to my insides. But here I am all the same in my 30s reading your page. Thanks for sharing - and nice to 'meet" you! 😊
Thanks, Po! You know, "listening to your insides" is a life-long endeavor and challenge. My writing path has been anything but direct and straight. The main thing is just to do it if you feel the calling, and to trust the calling.
Thanks so much for sharing that with me and your words of advice. Yes! I've thankfully improved a little bit in my listening skills over the years, haha. I'm just so glad it's still there at all.
Ahhhh. The Hemingway influence. Me too. From the day I first started writing seriously, to this day, I always stop mid-scene, or in close proximity, knowing what's about to happen, so there always is momentum at 5:00am the next day. I'm sure I still have my copy of A Moveable Feast from high school on the shelf. Enjoyed this.
Thanks so much, Bonnie! It's really true about not over-working or exhausting your creative juice. So much of writing is about keeping the momentum of writing going.
oh how this gave me hope today as a non profit executive director who used to be a stripper who used to be an investment banker who is always a writer
I love your list of occupations ... with writer running through them all. Writing is the rock of the foundation for me.
Ok, we need more about your elevator-man-dressed-as-a-cowboy-at-a-furniture-convention period.
Haha, it was one of those extra jobs (on top of other piddling extra jobs) at a furniture convention at SF's furniture mart on Market. It was an old building, and the elevators' capacity was for only 10 people. The theme of the conference was the West or the Gold Rush or something, so the "elevator men" had to dress up as cowboys and then make sure no more than 10 people got on an elevator, which was actually challenging because the attendees were mainly burly, aggressive furniture salesman. The main hazard was claustrophobia. I don't think I've ever had longer days.
Well, isn't that the very job that makes being a writer an attractive career choice? ;-)
Ah, hope. As a former talent agent in Hollywood who went on to own and operate the best Jewish Bakery in LA, and then transliterate (a stretch) sign language for kindergartners only to go on to lead the way for change in a large health care conglomerate, I still find myself envious of that elevator man dressed as a cowboy. A great re-introduction, Grant.
Haha, don't get too envious of the elevator man. But I know what you mean: I miss my life when I had jobs like that, when all was new and there was so much to learn and discover. And I'd have strange experiences like that just because they were part of living.
Hello Grant,
My name is Douglas Adamson and I am a writer too, although somewhat peripatetic. I am trustee of a conservation charity, run a bird watching group, keep hens (whose eggs I trade for pints of Yorkshire ale in my village pub), and garden. I have written all my life as an ad copywriter and self published two satirical novels set in the early 1960s. See my substack for my eclectic posts. I liked the chicken coop story, you were showing the dedication writers have to endure to hone their craft. Every day is a school day, as the saying goes.
I like your mantra: Every day is a school day. Thanks for your kind words! I wish I could trade eggs for pints. Sounds like you've got a nice life set up to be a writer.
THE RABBIT!!! Omg if this were today you could have installed cameras and really ramped up your paranoia! It could have been the next horror sensation! Haha that is a terrifying story though!
This was eloquent and so seamless. I really saw the farm and the rabbit and you sitting in Paris. Actually saw everything.
Thanks so much, Thaisa. Wish I could go back and be a shepherd/writer this summer ...
now THAT sounds like a story: Santaland Diaries x Clerks x Glengarry Glen Ross? For some reasons, elevator work is gold, even elevator industry work. I did probably a total of 2 weeks at Otis Elevator in Mass. and still, when I see the logo on cars' grooved door-housing, I think, 'Yep. One of ours."
Decades ago, in my garage band days, we called ourselves Otis & the Elevator Operators; we named ourselves such in tribute to the men & women running Macy's elevators. Great days. Before escalators.
That’s nice—with shades of Otis Day & the Knights!
Haha, I like this combo: Santaland Diaries x Clerks x Glengarry Glen Ross. It was definitely all of that. The story would have to include a plummeting elevator as well, of course, because I was unable to keep some of those burly salesmen off in the name of safety. ... Love the pride you take in Otis Elevator!
I’ve been following/listening/reading for years and still appreciated this “introduction”!
Thanks so much, Kelcey!
I love your podcast, and after reading you on Substack I want more. My grandma used to sing Cuccurucucu when I was little—so thanks for the memory!
Thanks for your kind words! And more to come! Here's to living a Cuccurucucu life. That's so great your grandmother used to sing it to you.
So many Substacks, so little money. It is the lament of all financially strapped writers, hey? The only one I subscribe to is Grant Faulkner's. You are inspirational! I notice I've got a Substack. How the heck did that happen? Between the day job and my passion/writing who has time to maintain a Substack?
Thanks so much for your kind words, Karen! I'm glad my words resonate.
Loved hearing the story about writing/shepherding, and I felt right there with you when you described sharing your writing with someone who didn't get it because it needed work. I like your humbleness and also how you kept going. Looking forward to checking out one of your books (Art of Brevity) I just requested through interlibrary loan.
Thanks so much for your kind words, Erik! Let me know what you think of The Art of Brevity. I appreciate you reading it.
It’s already reactivating some dreams. The opening quote: to film the silhouette of live ants. The reference to Brautigan’s “Lint”: flashback to reading Winesburg, Ohio in high school and resolving to keep a notebook instead of being that man who puts his stories into his pocket where they turn into lint. The quote by Jayne Phillips: to revise a poem I wrote years ago about punctuation and kissing underwater. Wonderful writing! Less, less! (-:
The Art of Brevity --- you will not be disappointed, Erik! Not only great instruction, but to me it reads like great literature.
I see what you mean! Yes, it’s clearly been revised until it does inspiring things with words that ordinarily conversation or magazines don’t do. One sentence that stands out on the first page, “the dense weight of William Faulkner’s past (which I share only literarily, not genetically).” And that coupled with “our souls sprawl with this land, after all” brings to mind poet Charles Olson. Anyhow, even without referencing Olson explicitly the writing is evoking some of the most salient parts of what I’ve loved about reading many different books - and this is just in the intro, haven’t even gotten yet to Thirteen Ways of Looking at Flash Fiction, and my comment is already almost as long as the book itself.
Big thanks, Erik! I really appreciate your kind words, and I'm glad the book resonates.
Aw, thanks so much, Karen!
Ah, I wish I had been swayed more in that direction as a younger person! I couldn't listen that well back then to my insides. But here I am all the same in my 30s reading your page. Thanks for sharing - and nice to 'meet" you! 😊
Thanks, Po! You know, "listening to your insides" is a life-long endeavor and challenge. My writing path has been anything but direct and straight. The main thing is just to do it if you feel the calling, and to trust the calling.
Thanks so much for sharing that with me and your words of advice. Yes! I've thankfully improved a little bit in my listening skills over the years, haha. I'm just so glad it's still there at all.
Ahhhh. The Hemingway influence. Me too. From the day I first started writing seriously, to this day, I always stop mid-scene, or in close proximity, knowing what's about to happen, so there always is momentum at 5:00am the next day. I'm sure I still have my copy of A Moveable Feast from high school on the shelf. Enjoyed this.
Thanks so much, Bonnie! It's really true about not over-working or exhausting your creative juice. So much of writing is about keeping the momentum of writing going.
Thanks for this re-introduction! I'm glad to be your subscriber.
Gosh, this was wonderful to read.