There are bound to be countless parallels, metaphors, witty essays and insightful observations about how writing is like ___________ (fill in the blank). Salsa addicts (or fill-in-the-blank addicts) will compare their interest to everything under the sun, too, to rationalize why it is they are doing what they do: it’s  a live-saver, a spiritual fulfillment, a chance to meet people, a reason not to pull the trigger… Art and expression play different roles for each of us who welcome it into our lives (and who perhaps later damn that we ever gave it an invitation).

So here’s my corny bit about why writing and salsa compliment each other, but you can fill in the blanks for your hobbies, dreams or interests: salsa is a very good training camp for writers getting their toes wet in the world of marketing and publication. Salsa humbles you because, you will be humiliated. Probably harsh a term, but at first it’ll feel like that. You will look awkward, you will be judged, you might not get offers… Honestly, if you need a boot-camp for tougher skin (or an accelerator for a nervous breakdown) then take salsa on-2. Then write, and try to publish your book.  Writing itself sounds romantic. You do it solo, you paint worlds with words with cerebral coolness, and in the end, if you stuck it out, you might have a short story or novel. Practicing shines by yourself in front of a mirror is like that too. But if you want to partner your work with the rest of the world…. well, there are layers of odysseys that await you. Want to use my capital to share your story? Want to spend three minutes of my time in front of a crowd holding my hand and twisting me into a pretzel?  Some zip through it, others chug along, never getting past their basic.

The great thing about social dancing salsa that makes it very different from the experience of writing novel-length literary fiction? It is in the NOW. There, in that moment is your expression. It goes by quick, it doesn’t linger like a sentence, page or chapter that constantly needs revision. It moves on, though you might create a memory (or salsa character) out of it. Opportunities seem endless. You scripted your own dance, you shared it with an audience in a proper format, and then you look to do another. A story and its expression in 3 minutes! How great is that? Probably best of all? It aint fiction.

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I suppose the comic book stores have went the way of all small mom and pop shops, the predecessors of the plight of independent bookstores… No, don’t comfort me with the selection at Barnes and Nobles or Borders… I don’t even care for the comic book store near Union Square (if it’s still there) not because I have anything against it… it’s just not my hood.

Ode to the comic book store! A recently rejected-by-a-literary-agent- nerd-girl’s strip club, drug den, and escapist paradise.

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If the link doesn’t work, click http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaHb8grTIUk

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This is not a new book, just something I picked up with interest as someone who has lived in Athens for a few years as part of an Urban Odyssey. Publishing the book might have been a rush job trying to capture the market of the 2004 Athens Olympics when Modern Greece suddenly was on people’s minds (anticipated failure, complaints, etc, like most media here seems to be about Greece). Consider this book the anti-romantic portrait of modern Greece. If you loved Greece before you read it, you might hate it after you finish reading 142 easy-reading pages of this book. Written by a native Greek who left when he was 10 years old, who paid yearly visits there growing up and spent 3 months living there in part as a personal journey, in part to write this  book… it basically puts a magnifying glass on all of the flaws of the modern Greek state, its people and, it seems (it can be that dark) their souls. Take all the bad, post it on pages like a collage, provide minimal analysis and you’ve got this book. This is not to say what the author speaks about is not true… indeed the most depressing aspect of this book, as a once-ago resident who lived in and with many of the groups the author describes, is that what he talks about is real. In falling in love, did I ignore the monster? I don’t think so but the book shakes you up, even though it is a tad bit unfair, it is so very superficial in some ways (but not in that it presents a glimpse into the “native” life that tourists might not ever see). It is harsh. Maybe it has to be. I know there is more to Greece than this, but then again… Sigh… if only life were as simple as Ode to Frappes and a sun-filled life…

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“I have a dream. It is called love, anarchy, freedom. It is called being idle.”

-Tom Hodgkinson

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This one was found by C-mixto. Highly recommended for the cynical, the nerdy, the intelligent, the social outcast- this book is comical with a healthy dose of chaos. It also has a halo of tragedy.

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Part of Urban Confessions Week

…These are not the words you’d expect from someone married, partnered or involved… but it’s true! C-mixto finds me in bed with him every night like clockwork. He has come to recognize his voice when the covers block out his face,  and rolls his eyes when he realizes that I am in bed with Craig Ferguson. Craig Ferguson! How I’ve developed quite an appetite to stay up late and watch you! How can it be avoided? You are truly a gifted comedian from what I see from your show, and the philosophic words of your theme song have convinced me that “tomorrow is” truly my “future yesterday” so I might as well stay up and be entertained.

You are one of the few celebrities I’ve actually taken an interest in learning more about, even buying your memoir (which sort of provoked this series, because I feel a little shame in this). It is probably your ability to keep my attention and evoke a sincere laugh from me that has spawned this regular habit of watching you.  Your performance is fluid, jokes are spared the staleness often inherited from rehearsals. You are truly a one-man-act.

I have to say (does this constitute a double confession, one now to you?)… lately I have been watching your shows online the day after it airs at a time more convenient for me. It’s fun, but, sigh… not the same as the intimacy of sneaking off with you at 12:35am while others are asleep.

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Further reading: Camile Paglia, Sexual Personae.

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