Tag: writing

 On Getting Rich Quick

There is nothing quite so calming as watching Jackie and Shadow, Sunny and Gizmo hanging out in their nest above Big Bear Lake. Mom and Dad, baby and baby bald eagles, quietly living life and doing their thing while thousands of us watch them on a secret camera. 

I’m sure the aliens are doing the same to us.

As you know, I’m one for Fred Flintstone, get-rich-quick schemes. 

But they can’t be those be-your-own-boss-with-my-proven-system, make-a-million-in-your-spare-time kind of plans. The people that make money off of those plans are the people that sell them.

I did that for a while – trained to be a financial planner. I was broke and unemployed and grasping at straws. Just the guy you want to show you how to manage your finances.

No, it’s gotta be fresh, and it’s gotta be mine, and it’s gotta be foolproof, for I am surely the fool that will louse it up. 

There was the sure-fire paper-house-kits-for-model-railroaders business that promised to make a bazillion bucks. It turns out the market for such a product is very, very, very small. Apparently just me.

Way back when, a friend and I branded ourselves The Babble Brothers and sold answering-machine message tapes. They were witty little audio pieces on cassette, skits and songs mostly, for you to record onto your answering machine to charm your callers. We sold about 15 of those. Maybe less. I haven’t seen a cassette player in a long, long time.

If you’ve been following along, you’ll know I have a website devoted to describing the outer reaches of our solar system (QueenOfTheKuiperBelt.Wordpress.Com), a DIY website (SkippityWhistles.com), and an aviation museum website (MarvelousAirMuseums.com). Each of these is designed to bring in tons of advertising revenue, the much ballyhooed passive income.

And there’s the secret plan to make 3d videos of little cars driving about for that company that makes little cars. Turns out, to make good 3d models in Blender, you have to be GOOD at Blender. Who knew?

My newest, latest, and perhaps best plan is to make industrial safety videos. There are, like, ten thousand safety managers scouring the Interweb for content for their next safety meetings. Who wouldn’t like a schmaltzy, well written, exquisitely produced video for free? Come on. If that doesn’t build traffic, right?  I can make videos like that. Schmaltzy. In Blender. 

Oh yeah, Blender. 

According to my very smart daughter – the one in the master’s program at a prestigious university – Fred Flintstone is no longer the caveman with the big ideas.

She says it’s Grug Crood. 

Grug came up with putting a flat little rock over your eyes – “I call ‘em shades,” and smashing your mud-covered face with a flat rock to make a snapshot. But he was trying to hold his family together, not make a million clams. 

Of his moss wig, his son asks “what do you call that?” His mother-in-law answers “I call it desperation.”

No getting rich quick there. 

I have so many schemes running, I’m starting to lose track. They’re all supposed to be passive income makers, so I could be a bazillionaire right this very moment and not even know it. 

Chances for that seem extremely small. It’s more likely I’ll sell a paper house.

Guess I’ll go back to watching the baby eagles.

Sorry, Grug.

Why Writers Shouldn’t Talk

Hey, hello! Thanks for reading along! What follows this paragraph is the transcript from a video I shot today – it will be a podcast pretty soon. What’s cool about it is that the transcription process worked… you’ll see. I shot the video and then transcribed the audio at a place called TurboScribe. You get three free transcriptions a day. Here’s what I shot…

 Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.

Hello, I’m writer, author, and host John D. Reinhart. And you’ve stumbled onto this moment in This Writer’s Life.

So, before we go any farther, you may wonder, what’s the difference between a writer and an author? Well, in my head, a writer writes.

You’re a writer, you write. If you’re writing a book, you’re still writing. You write the book.

It is the authorly part of you that compiles all that writing into the book. Right, it’s the organizer kind of a guy. In a website situation, nobody writes a website, they author a website.

They bring their own written work or the work of other writers, they compile it all into a website. That’s the difference.

The host part, well, me and you, we’re looking at it.

So, here’s the thing. I’m in my garage. I’m doing the laundry.

And it occurred to me what I’d really like to be doing is writing a post for my website, because I feel like I should be doing that, but I can’t because I’m doing the laundry.

So, then I got the bright idea to say, well, why don’t we go speech to text, right, and take video-audio combo and make a post out of that. So, that’s what I’m trying.

And I will tell you the truth. Speaking what you want to say is so much more difficult than writing what you want to say.

I mean, I’m a good writer. I’m not such a good speaker. And this is kind of what I found out.

You’re a writer. You put things in order. You build the sentence that you want. And you realize, eh, that’s not what I want to say. You move things around. You come up with a whole new word. Flip it around, build a whole new paragraph based on that word. That is what writers do.

But think about impromptu speakers like President Obama.

He comes out there and he right off his cuff, makes these long speeches that people write down. Because when you speak impromptuly or however you speak, that’s what you said. And you can’t go back and flip it around and change it.

That’s the big difference between speaking and writing is that, as what I find, I’m not a public speaker. I’m not an impromptu speaker. In fact, I have to tell you this truth.

I’m using a script. So, this is text to speech to text. That’s how well this works for me.

Not my dog. So, if you don’t try something new, you don’t learn anything. So, that’s my little experiment on speech to text.

No, thank you, sir. Thank you for watching. I’ll catch you next time.

 Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.

Yes, it’s a little weird, I know. It’s creepy to see how many times I use the word “so” when speaking impromptu, even with a script!

The upshot of this experiment, aside from a shameless plug for TurboScribe and a podcast episode, is that the spoken word works great for speakers, but us writers, we probably want to just keep on writing!

Thanks for reading along…

Yessss, Your Majesty

You know the writing biz, right? Like any other biz, it’s all about marketing, networking, and growing the brand.

Funny you’d mention brand.

I had a very lovely, very informative online chat over at LinkedIn this morning with a person I only just met today. She inspired me to think again about this career we call writing. Well, some of us call it that…

She pointed out that she considers herself more of a communicator. I took that to mean she’s a linker of ideas. In my head, that’s a technical writer, right? Taking the arcane and making it mundane?

Anyway, she reminded me that this is what I do, too. And it’s great fun. My favoritist thing in the world is to read something and then explain it to somebody else. My poor family. Oh, the things they’ve had to listen to!

With Lucia’s kind encouragement, I shall henceforth refer to myself as Resident Explainer. If the shoe fits…

But that’s not what this post is about.

Back in the day… no, that’s not a good start.

Once upon a time… nope. Been done. How about this:

I have a new website: Kuiper Belt Queen.

It sounds like a riverboat, I know. But it’s my way to house the planetary articles I’m just plain bent on publishing. As Resident Explainer I can scour the NASA and ESA databases for curious and fun details about the Kuiper Belt environs and relay them to you.

But why, you ask. Why? What is the matter with you?

In a year or so, see, I’m moving to New Jersey. I clearly cannot commute to my Southern California job from Southern New Jersey. So, my intent is to build an online resume of articles from which I can pitch myself as a freelance-feature writer-for-hire.

Have Word, will travel.

But, wthe Kuiper Belt?

I mean, come on. Have you seen it? (If you have, I’ll smoke what you’re smoking!) It’s an enormous donut-shaped ring of proto-planetary stuff that surrounds the sun, way out there beyond Neptune.

Evidence for its existence wasn’t even confirmed until 1992, so it’s an unexplored frontier.

YET, and I do mean yet, it most likely holds the keys to our understanding of how the sun and solar system were formed. Sun, planets, life, you and me… connect the dots.

Okay, you have to agree that’s cool.

And, the biggest body in the Kuiper Belt thus far discovered is our old friend Pluto. Pluto! Yaay! Because she’s the big kahuna, she must be the Kuiper Belt Queen!

See how it all fits together?

Another feather in the head of the Resident Explainer’s brand.

It’s all a vast plan, my friend, on the road to a WRITING EMPIRE!!!

Thanks for reading along…

Back to the Front

Okay, what is it now? What preposterous, outlandishly wacky idea is sure to make a gazillion simoleans this time? Don’t get me started!

I had a revelation last week – something that just never occurred to me before in all my born years.

You’re a writer, right? You know how it goes – everybody’s a writer, yadda yadda yadda, right? The difference between a writer and a wannabe writer is that the writer is always writing.

To wit, this thing: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/three-body-problem-solved-john-reinhart-m6zjc

Not trying to prove anything or blow my own horn or you know – well, I am trying to get you to read the article so that I can make a gazillion simoleans from the advertising revenue once I get discovered….

Anyway, my revelation was this: not everyone has an inner Fred Flintstone, or Ralph Kramden, or Oscar the Shark Slayer. Maybe we’re not all searching for a get-rich-quick scheme.

In that same vein of discovery, it follows that maybe not everyone IS a writer, or even a wannabe. Maybe you and me, we’re of a rarer breed than we realize. That’s kind of a big deal, don’tcha think?

Once, three quarters of a score of years ago, I found myself underemployed and with a hankering to change my life for the better. In those days, the Internet was trying to expand, and people would publish just about anything that was three words or longer. During those few frantic, financially fraught years, I churned out over 300 articles on planetary science.

I didn’t make a fortune. Or a living.

But, in 15 months, I gotta take a career with me to New Jersey, where my six-month-old grandson patiently waits. So, for me, right now, it’s back to the Final Frontier. Back to the front! And the above article, dull though it may be, is just the vanguard. More to come!

Where the Little Cars Roam

Where the Little Cars Roam… Sounds like Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Roam, except the words are different. That’s kind of like saying Star Wars is like Titanic, only the stories are different. Well, there it is.

I met a very pleasant young woman this weekend – she sold me my new washing machine. She’s really young, like 20. That’s not a judgement, just an observation. I mean, you and I were twenty, once, right? So, there it is.

She told me she was a writer, although her first book is yet to be completed. It’s a book of poetry, and she’s been at it for the last 8 years.

Three thoughts came to mind.

First, good on you to refer to yourself as a writer! Identifying as such is a hugely powerful thing.

Second, and I told her this, the difference between a writer and someone who wants to write is that the writer writes. She agreed and promptly advised me she’s written tons of local articles and didn’t I just suddenly feel like Mr. High-and-Mighty-Hoity-Toity-stuck-up-old-fart? Rule number one in the world should be to shut your yap and ask questions, ya moron!

Thirdly, if you’re twenty and you’ve been at your tome for 8 years, doesn’t that mean you started when you were twelve? I think more than anything else, that’s massive persistence, to keep at something through the tumultuous teen years!

Well, there you go. I wished her every success, because she deserves it.

See, I’m on my own these days. My wife is on the other side of the country helping manage our very first grandchild. She’s way tougher that I am!

It’s been me, the dogs and the cat since Christmas day. The oldest dog isn’t quite in charge of his bowels, so I have frequent surprises in the hallway leading outside. The middle dog is stone deaf and sticks to me like gum to a shoe every moment I’m home. And the youngest dog ate an epic portion of the dog food I put down for them last weekend, when I flew back east to visit my wife and grandkid, so she’s a portly little beast that wants more, more, more!

So. I. Have. No. Guardrails. No one to tell me “hey, stop being snarky!” It’s not my fault!

Since Christmas I’ve had to buy a new mailbox, a new smart watch, a new dryer and just this last weekend, a new washing machine.

But, that’s how I met this nice writer girl and delivered my pearls of dim-headed wisdom.

In the mean time, in between time, I’ve been slowly using Blender to build a world for those neat little cars to drive around in.

My secret idea is this: I know of a company in New York that makes neat little cars. My guess is that they could use a neat little video to promote their neat little cars, and this is where I come into the story, because I’m moving to New York in the summer of ’26. But that’s a secret, so don’t tell anybody.

So, here I am, sitting in my lonely garret (bedroom) with no company (3 dogs and 1 cat) writing my life story (this post), wishing I hadn’t been so snarky to that nice girl.

But, well, there it is!

Fred Flintstone Calling

I’ve got this great idea, see. All’s ya gotsta do is get everybody in Uruguay to visit your site just once – they don’t even need to linger. That’s over 3.4 million views! Man, you are gonna rake in the dough!

So, the deal with Fred Flintstone – if you’re too young to know – was that he was a caveman, see, the head of a modern stone-age family. His wife, Wilma, and his neighbors Betty and Barney Rubble, lived in the town of Bedrock. A town just like yours and mine, except made out of rock.

It was a Hanna-Barbera cartoon series made in the early 1960’s and it was dopey fun.

Fred was every man’s everyman. He was living the caveman equivalent of the American Dream – good job, house in the ‘burbs, picket fence, nice ped-powered car.

A regular Joe, except that he had a penchant for making outlandish, foolproof plans to make a million clams. He was gonna quit the quarry and live the life of a millionaire, just as soon as his ship sailed.

“Barney boy, by this time tomorrow, we are gonna be livin’ like kings!”

Of course he never quite succeeded – Dino the dinosaur dog ate the proceeds, it turned out the ptero-chickens were all ptero-roosters,  Ann Margarock had to be in Rock Vegas on the night of the big event, etc.

At the end of every episode, there was Wilma, reminding him that he already had everything he needed right there in his little family. And he always sheepishly admitted she was right. “Wilma, you are the greatest…”

If you’re reading this, and I imagine you are, you probably have an inner Fred Flintstone yourself.

You’re thinking there’s always a chance, a long shot maybe, but a chance that this one, this stupid crazy-ass scheme, this could be the one. One in a million chance, but, hey, somebody’s gonna make it… Ten bazillion books get published and read every year, why not mine?

So, I recently gave up on my inner Fred. I was a little depressed, maybe. A little tired. I dunno.

I decided that this is the dish, this life o’ mine: this is my someday. Someday I’ll have a nice house in the ‘burbs and a pretty wife and 2.5 kids and a good job with a decent salary. Hey, I have all of that, so this must be it.

All righty, then, Fred. It’s been fun. Good luck with your crazy schemes. I’m hanging up the bronto-phone now – I gotta go mow the lawn.

So, I go and tell my wife, the very love of my life, that I’m hanging up my bronto-spurs, and quote that line from All Things Great and Small where Herriot tells a fellow that someday he’ll be a millionaire, and the fellow replies with “Nah, it’s not in the cards. Was I to be a millionaire, well, I’d be one already, don’t you see?”

My darling wife replies “well, let’s not be too hasty about that.”

Whoa, whoa, hold on, there. That’s a Fred Flintstone line, not a Wilma line! YOU can’t say I’m gonna make a million clams, because YOU’RE the voice of REASON!

Like a bolt out of the blue, I was gobsmacked, thunderstruck, and over the moon in a tizzy of heaven for-fend, she, she, she believes in my crazy schemes!

To quote Goofy, “gorshk.”

So, I’m opening everything back up – Skippity Whistles, California Air Museums, even hauling The Book in for a rewrite.

Do I have a plan?

Heck no! I’m making it up as I go! Never quote me the odds!

My wonderful wife, she, she believes in me!

Wilma: “Oh, Fred.” (Sighs and exits)

Oh, uh, One More Thing

You probably remember Columbo’s trademark like “oh, and one more thing…”

It always came right near the end of the Columbo murder mystery series, back in the 1970’s. Peter Falk played this sort of bumbling detective who appeared to be misguided throughout the whole episode. But then, at the last, just as the murderer is about to get away with it, Columbo turns and says something like, “Oh, and one more thing. I thought maybe you could help me understand how, if the bedroom door was locked, your fingerprints are on the bedside lamp.”

Sometimes the murderer would say “Oh, you’re a clever one, Columbo,” or they’d stare at him, or they’d run. Sometimes they did all three. Of course, Columbo had all the exits covered.

So, I’ve been putting together a video review of the Estrella Warbirds Museum in Paso Robles for California Air Museums.

It’s a good video, featuring sections of our interview with author George J. Marrett, and looking at all kinds of stuff.

I got it all done, all buttoned up, and uploaded it to YouTube. If you haven’t done that, you have about four pages of questions to answer about the video, and you have to wait about 20 minutes for it to upload. You have to type in tags, and a description, and all kinds of stuff.

And then my daughter said: “You know, it should have subtitles.”

Ah. Subtitles. 

So, for a five-minute script with lots of voice-over and interview, it takes about an hour to add closed captions. YouTube presents you with a transcript of your video, and the AI is pretty good, although it couldn’t figure out the name Paso Robles. Pasa Rubbles. Pa saw rabbles. So you have to correct it, and you have to manage the timing so that the words show up as they are spoken in the video.

Now we’re in for a buck-and-a-half, timewise, at YouTube.

“I think you should refer to the author’s books,” my wife suggests.

In thinking about it, I realized she was right.

Back to DaVinci Resolve to edit the video. Dug up some graphics, added some voice-over, inserted 30 seconds devoted to the books, reworked the music at the end, rendered the video out again.

Went back to YouTube, downloaded the subtitles file so I could add it to the new video, deleted the video I’d just uploaded (it actually warns you that this video will be deleted forever – I’m kind of surprised it doesn’t go FOREVER-ever-ever-ver-er-r….), uploaded the new video, answered the four pages of questions, and was just about to push the PUBLISH button again, when my wife cleared her throat in that way that she does when she has an idea that she thinks is brilliant but you might not like but you should because it really is a good idea.

“One more thing…”

All right, Columbo, what is it?

“What if we cut the guy’s the clever comment that opens the video and put it at the end instead.”

As she explains it,  I’m nodding thoughtfully, although I’m thinking OMG you want me to shuffle the entire contents of the video ahead by, like, fifteen seconds? But my captions’ll be screwed! Don’t you ever want to get this published?

It took FOREVER to shift everything around in DaVinci. And I had to start all over again with the captions in YouTube.

But, it was a brilliant idea, and the video has a ton of charm that it wouldn’t have if she hadn’t played the role of Peter Falk.

All of this has a writer’s tale in it, as you can imagine. Even though we think of our writing as a closed-loop system: we sit in our cold stone garrets, frantically typing away, knowing they’ll never understand our sacrifice, in truth it can only ever be a system of give and take. Suggestions, comments, ideas come in, grudging changes go out, and the work is always, always better for it.

Oh, and, uh, one more thing… Thanks for reading!