“Ya Bilge-Suckin’ Dogfish!” or How the Writer’s Craft Helped Me Out-Pirate Jack Sparrow

The past few weeks have added some more obstacles in my quest of achieving that elusive balance between work(writing) and life which I so desperately seek. When I analyzed these challenges from multiple perspectives, however, I realized evening the scales wasn’t a matter of placing more weight on one side or the other this time. What I needed to do was recalibrate the scale altogether.

Pi-rate

There’s no scientific method or instruction manual I’m aware of for adjusting whatever scale one uses to measure work-life balance. Sure, there’s plenty of advice out there in books, journals, and the internet, but I came up with my own procedure.

Redefining “Balance”

First, I needed to decide what things I would put on each side of the scale. This meant re-labeling those sides (sort of).

This is why I needed to come up with my own procedure.

Calling the trays of the balancing scale “work” and “life” doesn’t exactly apply to what I’m trying to measure. In an earlier post [Rebalancing the Scale When Life’s Boot Is On Your Throat] I even had a graphic that clearly showed I was dealing with a “writing” and “life” balance issue. This might seem like splitting hairs, especially if writing IS my work, but I’ll tell you why it makes a difference in my case.

When I used to tell my wife and kids I was “going to work,” that meant getting in the car and driving 45-90 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic up U.S. 1 to travel 13.8 miles to my assigned cubicle at an office just outside Washington, D.C. I’d spend 9-10 hours (or more), 5 days a week, doing “important” government work that at times was quite satisfying–though mostly it was downright boring. And I was miserable.

Now when I say I’m “going to work,” one of two things happens: I either shut myself in my home office upstairs to read and write, or I drive 30 minutes down U.S. 1 with no traffic, dressed as a pirate, to work 4-7 hours, 5-6 days a week, at the St. Augustine Pirate & Treasure Museum where EVERY day is more fun than I deserve.

So my work–as it stands today–isn’t really “work” at all…not in the vein of the mundane, tedious, clock-watching drudgery in cubeville it used to be. In a way, my “work” is also my “life.” And I have no problem with that.

As far as I know, neither does my family. (Maybe because I’m not as grumpy as I used to be.)<–my daughter might disagree with that last part

Thus, rather than “work” and “life,” I chose to focus on finding that “writing” and “life” balance.

“But you said writing was your life.”

True. Hence the need to recalibrate the scale. Where it used to be easy to separate “work” from “life,” that distinction is less clear now. Sure, driving kids to soccer practice, doing the laundry, or cooking dinner, can easily be binned as “life” on one side of the scale, but writing is a little more fuzzy.

Sure, this blog and the book I’m in the process of completing are clearly “writing” elements in the whole balancing act, but something happened last night that made me think there are more things than I was aware of that, on the surface, seem to lie squarely on the “life” side, but which in truth have all the hallmarks of writing.

I met Captain Jack Sparrow!

Okay. We’ve all seen at least one of the five Pirates of the Caribbean movies, right? So you know who Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) is.

Well, last night there was an event in St. Augustine where a band of pirates took over one of the Old Towne Trolley tour trains and made their way through the Ancient City, eventually debarking said train and taking over historic St. George Street.

I was working the 11-close shift at the museum, a I missed all the shenanigans. But at about 5:30 p.m., through the Fort Alley entrance, none other than Captain Jack himself graced Ye Olde Treasure Shoppe with his presence (with Moon Mermaid in tow, no less)!

Mermaid-Jack.png

Okay, it wasn’t Johnny Depp, but aside from a slightly deeper voice, this man was every bit the same Jack Sparrow you saw on the big screen. From the moment he walked in the door, Captain Jack was nothing but. He NEVER broke character! Not when I sold him and his crew tickets into the museum, not whole he was inside viewing our over 800 authentic pirate artifacts (including “his” sword from Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl) and interacting with other museum visitors, and not even when he spent about 15 minutes looking through the treasure shop and purchasing a magnet from me.

He had every tattoo that the movie Jack has, including the East India Company “P” branding. Only, unlike Johnny Depp, this man’s tattoos were real (I know because we compared swallows on our forearms–my left, his right). Even the hair was real. By all accounts, this man was–is–Jack Sparrow.

But here is why I said I “out-pirated” the good captain–and how this made me realize that sometime elements of my “life” could just as easily be labeled “writing.”

Meet Smilin’ Matt Blackheart

Blackheart

Yes, that’s me. I was wearing this same outfit the night I met Jack Sparrow. I can’t tell you enough (or more than I already have) about how well the man who came into the museum last night played the part of the character Johnny Depp made famous. He is by far the best “Jack Sparrow” I’ve come across. But how do I know he was playing the part well?

Because I’ve seen the movies.

I suspect that’s pretty much how “Jack” got so good at the speech, dress, mannerisms, etc. of Johnny Depp’s character. He watched the movies…probably A LOT of times.

He’s good. Very good.

But what about the guy who has a raspy voice, or an uncontrollable eye-twitch, or *gasp* no tattoos? Right off the bat, we’d say, “meh, he’s alright, but he’s not ‘the’ Jack Sparrow.”

And why is that?

I’ll tell you why. Because we ALL know what Jack Sparrow looks like–from his hair and tattoos, to his mannerisms and slightly tipsy gait (or speech for that matter). We don’t REALLY need to know anything about Jack Sparrow except what we saw in the movies.

If our nighttime museum visitor sticks to the script, I doubt he’ll ever be called a phony.

But what if you asked him something about Jack’s past that wasn’t in the movies? What if someone asked him the same question an hour–or a week, or month– later? Would he give the same answer?

Maybe. (He WAS pretty darn good.)

But I don’t have the luxury of watching five movies (or even one) about Matt Blackheart. No sir. Everything I know about that sea-dog I had to invent myself. But remember, I work at the Pirate MUSEUM (i.e. we have REAL pirate stuff–all kinds). And I’m all about realism…especially when it comes to pirates!

Jack Sparrow is a fictional character with a fictional background who “lives” in a fictional world.

Smilin’ Matt Blackheart is also a fictional character, so I get to choose his mannerisms, and the way he dresses, etc. But I got to WRITE his backstory. And it took me days to find the right pirate(s) at the right time(s) to develop a plausible background that would allow me to engage museum-goers on more than just a superficial, hand-waving, slurred speech, swaying level. In other words, I get to teach history, not just remind people of the great time that had at the movie theater.

So when someone asks me about my (Blackheart’s) past, I get tell them all about the Pirate Round, Thomas Tew, Henry Every, and the battle with the Indian Grand Mughal’s fleet in the Red Sea in August 1695.

(Oh, and because Blackheart is fictional, I get to choose his mannerisms, the way he talks, the way he dresses, etc. I also get to yell at customers who are abusing the toy pistols and rifles in the treasure shop in a loud piratical voice, “ONLY TWO CLICKS ON THOSE GUNS YA BILGE-SUCKIN’ DOGFISH!! –or– …YA MANGY BILGERATS!! –or– …YA SLIMY PLANK-WORMS!! “Jack Sparrow” would never get away with that 🙂  But I got promoted to manager for it….I love my job!)

Here’s a one-pager on Smilin’ Matt Blackheart’s background. Feel free to read it or not. Either way, thanks for stopping by!

Matt-Blackheart-Bio

Rebalancing the Scale When Life’s Boot Is On Your Throat

The subtitle of Better Strangers is “A Writer’s Life in the Balance.” (That might not show up on your smart phone, but it’s there…on the front page…I promise.)

The idea behind this weblog was to have a platform where I could share my own experiences trying to break into the world of the hybrid author (self-published [check] and traditionally published [working on that one]) while filling the roles of:

1) husband and

2) father to two kids, a bluetick coonhound, and a box turtle.

Okay, the turtle–King Bob–isn’t much of a burden.

Some of you might not think that’s very much of a challenge, me being “retired,” and all. And if I’m being honest with myself, I guess it’s not…especially with the kids in school all day long.

But shit just got real, y’all!

A few weeks ago I started a part-time job at the St. Augustine Pirate & Treasure Museum working an average of five hours a day, four times a week. With a half-hour commute each way, that means I’m out of the house at least 24 hours every seven days.

Driving to and from the Ancient City, I can still work on my book thanks to the soundtrack I put together [How I Use “Soundtracks” To Help Me Write When I’m Not Writing], but there’s definitely no chance for putting pen to paper during the other 20 hours, so things are slow-going on the manuscript completion front. And soon I’ll also be giving tours at the museum which means I’ll likely be working more than just four days a week.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m NOT complaining. The extra money is something we certainly need, and working at the Pirate Museum is a dream come true. I haven’t had this much fun on a job since living at sea in the Nasty Nic (USS Nicholson) and Sammy B. (USS Samuel B. Roberts)!

Plus, while a tour guide at the museum has to know a lot about pirates, I would argue–after working there for a month now–the bloke working the floor in Ye Olde Treasure Shoppe selling tickets, t-shirts, and shot glasses has to know just as much as (more than?) the pirate “captains” giving tours.

Since 80% (just guessing) of the visitors are going through the museum sans guide, who do you think they ask when they have questions about what they just viewed when they come through the door at the end, back into Ye Olde Treasure Shoppe (it’s actually called that–more fitting than just calling it a “gift shop”)? That’s right. They ask the same person who sold them the ticket to get in, that’s who. And that means research.

Now, I know quite a bit about pirates from years of reading and occasionally writing about them [Yo-Ho-Ho and a Bottle of Rum], but my new job has forced me to revisit those old books and delve into some new ones, as well…and that means more time away from my true occupation of being an author.

“So that’s the boot on your throat?”

Not exactly. I imagine literally having someone’s boot…or shoe…or even a bare foot crushing your windpipe would be immensely painful. But working at the museum and rekindling my inner-student–especially studying something I love–puts a little more weight on the “life” side of the scale.

WritersLife

Now, add my yard to that side.

“What?”

This time last year, we reshuffled the deck and moved to Florida [Matt Frick]. We found a great house in a great area, and all was well. Except, along with the fantastic house in the fantastic community, we bought a not-so-fantastic yard. It could be described, with no arguing on my part, as the worst yard in the neighborhood.

I’m no green-thumb, to be sure, but I can’t say that everything I touch that has roots in soil automatically dies. No, our yard was on its last legs when we moved in. It was gasping for breath and dying a slow death all on its own. Precisely because I did NOT touch it.

Sure, I mowed the grass a few times in the summer, but aside from a few weeks of watering in the past 12 months, I did nothing to help it come back to life…until about two weeks ago.

Following the guidance of a lawn care expert we hired to eradicate the chinch bugs killing our grass and the fungus/mold choking out our shrubbery, my wife and I proceeded to cut and plant sod throughout our entire front yard and 3/4 of the back and side yards. That translated to anywhere from 9 to 11 hours of our lives (each), four out of five days last week, consumed with back-breaking, fingernail and toenail-blackening (it’s Florida–even yard work is done in flip-flops), sweat-inducing, dirty work.

After digging countless holes with that damn post-hole digger, I felt as if my arms and shoulders were popping muscles like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Predator. Alas, there is no visible evidence that such a transformation took place.

So add in completely unanticipated time-sucking manual labor, and the scale tips even further away from that writer’s life balance.

Yep. And the school year just ended yesterday.

“I’m bored,” has already started.

Time to rebalance the scale.

Rebalancing that scale between meeting life’s demands and realizing the dream of publishing a book is not an easy thing to do. But I think I know how to make it happen. More importantly, I believe I can find that balance again and actually make life more enjoyable–for me and my family.

King Bob (the box turtle) doesn’t care what I do, as long as he has clean water and meal worms.

The solution I came up with includes both internal and external elements, but each are really a matter of perspective and prioritizing to reduce stress and increase efficiency–and ultimately, balance the scale.

Internally, I’m trying to stop giving too much weight to the objects on the “life” side of the scale which I (and most folks) would consider a burden. (<==Note to wife: This does not include our family. I love y’all!)

Take the yard, for instance. Timing played a part in moving this project high on the priority list. When the company we ordered from dropped a whole palette of St. Augustine sod on our driveway, we were on the clock to get that stuff in the ground before it died.

I toiled like a madman Wednesday evening and Thursday morning before work…planting grass that had already started to shrivel on the palette. Then, while I was at the museum, my wife found out from the lawn care guy that we should water the pile of side…the giant pile in our driveway…at least three times a day. You know, to keep it alive before we cut it into plugs, dig holes, and plant it. (I told you I didn’t have a green thumb.)

When I got home from work, we proceeded to replace the dead sod plugs in half of our front yard. We only got half done because the sun called it a day, and it was too dark. *sigh*

But on Saturday, we had two soccer games in the morning, and I had to work at the Pirate Museum from 2 p.m. ’til closing. This is where the rebalancing started.

We decided our priorities did not include finishing the lawn that day (now that we knew the secret of watering the damn grass pile in front of the garage). Instead, we went to the kids’ games, and I went to work without a second thought about the worst yard in the neighborhood.

I had the next three days off, so we worked like a couple possessed, replacing the bad sod and finishing the rest of the yard. The whole yard. It was hard work, but I also counted that work as exercise (which it absolutely was), and I didn’t hit the gym (in our garage) for the whole three days. See a little change of perspective bought me some free time there?

Externally, I’ve focused more on practicing what I preach. I started this blog post while getting an oil change, and I’m finishing it while the kids are off taking a nap or playing with friends after my wife took them to the neighborhood pool.

Oh, I also went grocery shopping and returned 13 bags of unused top soil to Ace Hardware while they were swimming.

Efficiency.

My wife plays a HUGE part in this rebalancing, whether she realizes it or not. The whole “life” thing is definitely a team effort. She helps keeps the plates spinning when they start to wobble. And the show goes on.

Perhaps the most important part of trying to keep A Writer’s Life in the Balance is reminding myself how much I enjoy writing. I really do enjoy it.

And I also enjoy being a pirate…

work

…who does yard work.