Monday, October 25, 2010

A Quarry of Quandaries

I was reading through the Syracuse Craislist directory, just aimlessly seeking things, and maybe positions of interest, when I started thinking about writing again. I came across an offer from a Lake George Magazine (George Magazine), for a writer, but I don't live in that area, so it didn't seem like it was a good fit. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered, what if there was a Lake Ontario magazine that sort of was like George, but different. I did some Google searches and mostly what I found were magazines dealing with the lake itself, and mostly fishing and/or boating. While I am sure this is the primary interest in the lake, it may not be the primary interest in the area that surrounds Lake Ontario, or the Great Lakes, or Central North East New York. Knowing that there are lots of NY magazines, so that is well covered, and I don't live in the Big Apple any more, so that is moot, I thought, what about another magazine.

So searching led me to a few other avenues, most of which were going in the same relative direction, but not quite what I was looking for. There are lots of national magazines dealing with rural life, or city life, or such and such, but nothing that I could find that really hit the nail. I found a potential magazine in Broome County, that almost seems to be something, but still not in the right area, or quite what I envisioned.

Something like the Saturday Evening Post. Now I know that is a dead magazine, for the most part, although it is still in publication, and on the web, but it is also more national, and not really the same as it used to be, although sort of.

I have been thinking, and thinking and although this is not really something that is prominent in my mind, well, it is interesting to think about. I like the verity of the SEP, and how it is or was presented, and I think others, especially of my generation, would maybe like such a publication as well. However, and there are always these provisos, it would have to be interactive, web enabled, and entrenched into social media. I would also think that it should be regional, as this should give it some type of affiliation with its area. Right in this area we have several cities, nothing like NY of LA, or even Chicago, but we have Syracuse, Cortland, Watertown, Utica, and of course Oswego. But there are many other little towns, and sudo cities, like Mexico, Fulton, even places like Boonville.

I travel a lot for my job, as a computer tech, and it takes me through lots of little towns and places without real names anymore. They were something at one time, either a rail town, or a canal town, or mill town, or some place, but now most of them are just names on signs that people drive by on their way to somewhere else. Every where is interesting for some reason, be it the history that is left behind, or maybe it is something they have that no other place has, or maybe it is just that they are, and no one seems to notice, but I do.

I really need to slow down, not just for the speed limit signs, but to notice more, and that is part of what I would like to do. I would like to slow down and notice more along my routes, so I might find interest in a broken down railway station, or stage coach stop, and find a farm that is tucked away in some nearly forgotten corner of some relatively unknown part of upstate NY, although I think it could be anywhere.

I need some others with this interest, to find it in themselves to help this live and breathe, some sponsors who would find this publication worth supporting. Although my writing is cheap, and my photography digital (read even cheaper), there are other cost, like printing, and distribution that will cost money, and will require some sponsorship to get it moving. Of course I don't mind advertising, that is the life blood of the business, but without a distribution channel, what incentive does a business have to advertise in the publication. How far should this glossy fly? As far as the winds can carry it, but how far can that be. It is not like I have a publishing house to distribute it for me. Well anyway these are the coffee house discussions that are yet to occur. Are there any coffee houses left these days, why yes there are, just not nearby where I live, but that is another story altogether.

Well at least I have an illustrator. I am fortunate to have married a great illustrator, although working to deadline is not her thing, so maybe she will not be doing the cover every time, just when the mood strikes her, but it would be nice if she could. I have a few other resources to tap, but they are unknown yet, so it remains to be seen if they will be tapped for what I think they may be.

Then there is the business, the messy business end of publication, the money pour, and all that comes with it. I know it, I have done it, but I deplore it, oh well, that is what this business is all about. At the end of the day, it all comes down to bills paid and money earned, so I guess short of finding some other publisher, or some partner who desires to play the fiddle while I dance, I guess that means I will have to play the fiddle while I dance, and sing. I may be out of breath a lot in the early times, at least until I find someone to play with me.

This is where I ponder the weird connections that have been severed over the years. Where I come to the conclusion that in truth there is no family any more. This is where I come to understand that it is all about the self now, not about the larger community, and wonder how did it get this way. I have relations that could do more for others, and they do, for strangers, but not for that which should be considered their kin. But this is a strange relationship that happens. A bit of history here; my mother was married twice, once to a English man and once to a Irish man, although the two are muddy at best. I am from the second marriage, and I take it that the second marriage was not good to the children of the first marriage. While my mother still lived all the children were very close, or had that appearance, although I was aware that it was a thin red line. Now that my mother has passed these long years, that red line has all but disappeared. As the years continue, the line gets thiner, and soon will be completely gone, be it for whatever reason, values that you can calculate, or things done or said that most likely were to passionate for the time to dissipate, so be it, it is all there in the gatherings, as they also slowly grind down to nothing, being that they no longer have the mother to gather them. Further scattered are the seeds of the children, through circumstance or wind, or other such silly conveyances, so as to not know anyone any more. There is no center, no place to call home, and I am not exactly sure I can suture that wound.

They say blood is thicker than water, but I wonder now if that is true. What with all the blood thinners being taken to prevent premature ejaculation, or whatever else they do. That and with all the pollution in the water and the air, it just might be that blood is now so thin that water will not only dilute it, but may wash it away completely.

However these are quandaries of yet another nature, that should have their own little corner of this web log. When I titled this piece I wasn't thinking of tackling very many things, it was more of a commentary on the diversity that a verity magazine should encompass. Like many things it turns out as I read and write, the second pass is likely more divergent than the first, but then I have not edited this yet, so as with most my web log entries, it is the raw first draft, and warrants another pass, but that will be done on another place at another time.

This has gone on long enough I believe, as any who may have had interest have lost it by this time, and so I will come back maybe another day and stroke the keys of striking to make it less so taxing, and hopefully a better read.

Peace and Good Will to All.

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