The In-Between Weeks Update

Two weeks ago, we had a ten-day holiday from school, the Muslim holidays of Eid Al Adha (the traditional time for making the hajj, or the pilgrimage to Mecca) and the United Arab Emirates National Day holidays combining to give us a nice long break. Some people traveled abroad, some people stayed in Dubai. For this break, I was one of the latter. But it was a truly wonderful time.

Much of my week was just geared towards relaxing and writing. The day after our last day of work was Thanksgiving, so some of my friends and I went to a dinner hosted by Vicki, the librarian at the school (and someone who, considering my love of books, I’ve come to know quite well over the past year-and-a-half). She had me over for Thanksgiving last year, and her cooking is famous around school (and she’s American, so the dinner was a proper Thanksgiving one: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, ham and pineapple (Real pig ham! Oh happy day!), corn, beans, three kinds of pie, and all sorts of other glorious home cooking. And, since her husband is a pilot with Emirates, they live in a villa (with a yard and everything), and since they’ve been here six years, the place felt more like a home than most places around here. A lovely evening, all around.

My roommate kicked off to Egypt for six days during the break, so I used that time to feel more at home. One thing I realized I miss terribly about having my own place is being able to listen to (and at times, crank) the stereo without bothering a roommate. It was rather relaxing (with nights lasting until quarter past late, and mornings starting whenever I felt like it), and, as it’s the last long stretch of time I have without working or traveling between now and June, I made the most of it.

One of the key activities I worked on was revising the novel (yes, still). Two of the best agents I applied to (okay, tell a lie, probably the best) at AgentFest in New York this past July are interested in my novel, but they felt some work needed to be done on increasing the tension in the earlier part of the book (the only part they’ve yet seen, which, admittedly, was a bit high on the exposition and a bit low on the tension for a thriller), but they both want to see more once I’ve revised it. So I’ve been revising it. Before Christmas break, I’m going to give the novel to a few trusted readers who are going to get back to me with their thoughts and suggestions, which, in January, I’ll take into account, make any final tweaks, and then send off to the agents in question. I’m hoping I’ll have roped in an agent (if neither of these two wants it, the manuscript itself should be strong enough to land another solid agent) by March or so, and hoping equally for a possible publisher come summer. For networking purposes, I’ve set up a Facebook Fan Page, and even without having an agent yet, I’m already at nearly a hundred fans. Given, many of those are students, but, considering the nature of our school, that also means that I have fans from several dozen countries. And not a word yet in print! Portending good things for the future? I hope so.

And speaking of the future, I have officially told management that I do not plan to come back to teach in Dubai for a third year. I’ve been leaning that way for a long while, the past few months pushing me over the decisive edge. So, come June, I will be back in the States to stay (at least, for a little while). What of my plans, though? Well, my eventual goal is to write full-time, and, sadly, jobs like teaching, which sap much of your evenings and weekends with planning, grading, etc., are hardly conducive to building my writing skills and putting out new novels with some semblance of regularity. Writing full-time, though a bit more free with the hours, truly is a full-time job. And it takes a long time, barring some sort of extremely rare overnight sensation (think Harry Potter or The Da Vinci Code), to get royalty income up to a decent rate. Thankfully, despite my travels and experiences I’ve had over here, I’ve been really good about saving, and when I come back, I’ll have enough to live on for several years, even if I don’t work at all. I do plan on working, though, probably part-time at a bookstore (which will provide me not only with some income, but also with health insurance, some insight into the retail end of the publishing industry, and help to keep me abreast of what’s going on in the industry). As far as where to live, I’m planning at the moment to move to Jacksonville, Florida. It’s still in Florida (no state income tax, weather I’m used to, etc.); it’s a relatively large city, close to the beach, a river, and a major airport (like Dubai); it not only has history and culture (oh how I miss it out here!), but it is just a short drive from St. Augustine and Savannah. Orlando, Disney, and Tampa, aren’t too far away, either. My best friend and his fiancée live out there, as well. But, perhaps most importantly, it’s close (but not too close) to my hometown of Tallahassee. Another event that transpired over this past break is that my sister, Becca, got engaged to her boyfriend, who incidentally, is a good friend of mine. Living half-a-world away, I’ve missed most of their courtship, and I don’t want to miss their marriage. So them’s the plans. And don’t worry about my ‘adventures’ dying down when I move back to the States. I’ve already got two major trips planned for researching my next two novels. And that’s not including the research trip I’ve got planned for this April (more on that later…). That’s one of the perks of writing international thrillers: traveling to exotic locales to research the sites.

That’s about all for this entry, except to say look for another travelogue coming up soon about the trip I’m taking over Christmas break: to Europe. For some reason, I keep going to Europe in December. Less crowds, I guess, but going from summers in Florida and Dubai to winters in the Netherlands? I’m not quite sure how many countries I’m going to be visiting, but at the moment, it’s looking like it’ll be six (in two weeks). Tomorrow, I fly into Amsterdam, and out of London on the 31st, and I’m probably going to be stopping through Stuttgart, Brussels, and Paris on my way to jolly old England. Should be a lot of fun. And who knows, maybe I’ll have my first white Christmas! Stay tuned!

That being said, I wish all of my readers and loved ones a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. My latest revision of From the Ashes is with a few trusted readers who are going to give me some feedback on the work, so my primary writing project the first few weeks of the new year will be travelogues: for Lebanon (way overdue, I know) and for this Europe trip. Watch this space, and may God bless you and yours during this festive season.

Long Overdue Update...

It's been a long, long time since my last update, and for that, I apologize. After I went to Lebanon (another entry coming on that trip within a few weeks), life just hasn't let up. Our assistant principal left, the government inspection team visited (which required a lot of preparation), one of my English department colleagues left, and... well, suffice to say there's been a lot of drama in the school and in the department that, without giving any details, has been particularly taxing on myself and many of my colleagues. It hasn't all been bad, though.

I got to go on two field trips within a week of each other, both to dramatic performances at the Madinat Jumeirah Theatre, a rather nice and somewhat 'Desert Elegance'-themed theatre. With my Grade 9 students, I saw The Woman in Black, a low-key psychological horror production based on the 1986 ghost novel of the same name. It was well done, but I was too busy laughing at the screams of my students to get scared myself (yes, I'm evil). The second production was The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged), which I went to see the following week with my Grade 10's. I own the DVD of the original troupe performing the play at the Criterion Theatre in London (the play being the longest-running comedy in modern London history), and I watch it religiously. The production I saw (done by a different troupe) was decidedly less impressive. My primary complaints were that the original was delightfully deadpan and the actors were very endearing as characters. Not so in this version: the whole thing was very hammed up, a lot of the key lines (yes, I was quoting along in my head) were missing or changed, and the actors just didn't do it for me. Regardless, it was a fun little production (and I saw it for free!).

I also got to meet Bill Clinton. He was speaking at the American University in Dubai (the father of one of my students is the president of the university) and some of my colleagues and myself got to go see him speak. Afterwards, I joined the throng on the floor and shook his hand as he made the rounds. Kinda cool. So now I've met both Jimmy Carter (about ten years ago at his Sunday School class in Plains, Georgia) and Bill Clinton. I've just got to meet the Bushes (George Sr. & Jr.), and I'll have met all of the living former U.S. Presidents. Not a top priority, but whatever. I take life as it comes.

Some promising news on the publishing front: the two top agents I've submitted to thus far have taken an interest in my novel. They love the story and have commended me on many of the novel's aspects, but have some reservations in a few regards (the pacing at the beginning is a bit slow to take off, for one). Today begins our Eid holiday (a Muslim holiday which, this year, happens to be right before the UAE National Day holidays, so we get ten days off from work). I'm not travelling anywhere big (going to Europe over the Christmas holidays will take care of my travel bug), so I'm going to be working hard on the novel's revision, hoping to send a final version out to agents come mid-January. So stay posted on that matter. Believe me, when things really get poppin' there, I'll be quick to post about them here.

Out of time for now, but thanks for stopping by, and rest assured, info on my Lebanon trip is forthcoming. Cheers!

On the Right Side of Ramadan

See, I told you I'd be better about posting more frequently...

It's the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, when eating and drinking during daylight hours is forbidden (at least, outside the safety of your own apartment), as Muslims are fasting. Music, dancing, and other assorted revelry are also restricted. And at school, our day is about two hours shorter than it will be during the rest of the school year (which means that we have to rush through our lessons and day, being less productive than we will be after Ramadan). But we've just got one more week of that, and then it's Eid al-Fitr (which, for us, equates to a week off). I'm heading to Lebanon with a few of my colleagues for that one. Should be a good time, and I'll post details about my trip in a few weeks.

This past week, I made the decision not to do MUN again this year. Various factors entered into that decision, among them the fact that my professional responsibilities are greater than they were last year (I'm the head of Grade 8 English, for one). Instead of MUN, I'm starting a creative writing club, something I've christened the "Budding Authors Club". There's enough interest at the school in creative writing to get that going, and sadly, there are not creative writing courses offered in the official curriculum. So I'm filling the gap. Should be a lot of fun. More updates, I'm sure, to follow in that regard.

I'm working on tweaking From the Ashes a tiny bit more, mainly in the relatively slow first couple of chapters where the protagonists are introduced. Reworking the agent query letters and sending those out. And, of course, working on book number two, which is coming together rather nicely. In the researching and planning phase still, but I'm getting really stoked about it.

I'm heading to an Iftar dinner (the feast where Muslims traditionally break their fast at dusk) this weekend with some friends. Also going to the Dubai Mall (the largest mall in the world, with the tallest building in the world (the Burj Dubai) right nearby)), and working on my publishing pursuits. Productivity and fun. Good times.

Okay, so that's about all for this time, I think. Thanks for stopping by.

Jeremy

The Second Year Begins...

It’s me again. First, I need to apologize for the incredible delay in my posts. As a writer, I think the blog medium is something I’ve found difficult, especially in relating the more vivid accounts (e.g. my travels). I want to write a novella, when, really, none of you have time to read that in a blog entry. So on that note, I plan to post shorter blogs, more frequently. My travelogues and whatnot may not be quite as graphic and detailed, but I’ve got to save something for the inevitable book, right?

It having been nearly five months since my last post, I’ll bring you up to speed as quickly as possible:

Egypt was amazing. Went to the Giza Pyramids, the Sphinx, the Nile, the Cairo Museum, Khan al Khalily (a famous bazaar in Cairo), and the Al Hussein Mosque (the holiest mosque in all of Egypt, I believe, owing to its possession of a most important relic: the head of Hussein, the nephew of the Prophet Muhammad), among other fun-filled sites in and around Cairo. Didn’t have nearly enough time at the Pyramids or the Sphinx, but then, that’s what return trips are for.

My planned Iran trip fell through. By the time I got an Iranian sponsor for a visa, the seven-day waiting period would have all but eaten up my spring break. I don’t think it’s going to make the cut for this year’s travels, but I’m going to keep up with my Iranian students after I leave Dubai, using those contacts sometime in the next few years to visit the history-rich nation. At least two future novels will have Iran as a location, so I’ve gotta go there to do research… and take lots of pretty pictures.

The novel. After three years of planning, research, writing and rewriting, From the Ashes is finally complete. I went to New York this past July to attend a thriller writer’s conference, where I was afforded the opportunity not only to brush shoulders with some of the industry’s biggest authors (James Rollins has agreed to blurb my novel, and Jon Land and Kathryn Antrim were blown away by my novel’s premise), but also to pitch my novel, in person, to some of the best-recognized agents in the business. Nine agents wanted to read part or all of my manuscript, six of whom (including the four I perceived at the time to be the most enthusiastic about the project) are still reading it. In addition, I’m starting to send out query letters to other agents, trying to get as many balls in play as possible, hoping one will land in the hoop soon. I’ve started work on the sequel, of which I hope to have a finished first draft by the time I come back to the States in June. In addition, I’m working on networking and marketing myself for not only getting published, but also for selling copies when I’m on bookshelves (like on my Official Facebook Fan Page). And, of course, I’ll keep you updated on any updates in my writing and publishing endeavors. Stay tuned!

This past summer, I apparently couldn’t get the travel bug out of my system. I traveled to Dallas, the Bahamas, Manhattan, Orlando, Jacksonville, and Ontario. All in all, I was only in Tallahassee about half of my two months back Stateside. Right now, I’m back in Dubai, teaching again. It’s the second day of my second school year, and supposedly the second year is infinitely better than the first. Which is good, because last year was brutal. I’m curious to see what this year holds. I’m planning trips to another dozen or so more countries this year, as well as repeat trips to Jordan and Oman. The new faculty members (more than forty people, including a new school director, a new assistant principal, and a new English curriculum leader) is pretty cool. And I’m planning to see and experience a whole lot more of Dubai, the U.A.E., and the Gulf region in general this year.

Which brings me to my final point for this entry. In just a few months, I’ve got a pretty big decision to make: what to do after this school year. I can renew here for another year. I can look for a post at another international school. I can come back to the States. Or any number of options I haven’t thought of. I know what I’m leaning towards right now (rather heavily, in fact), but I’m open to prodding. Please keep this impending decision in your thoughts and prayers as I try to decide exactly what I need to do/where I need to be for this next season of my life.

That’s all for this entry. Stay tuned for another entry in the next few weeks or so, and, as always, thanks for stopping by… Planet Earth.

Cheers,
Jeremy

Recap of March, Preview of April

It’s been about a month since my last entry. Big things on the horizon then. Big things on my horizon now. We’ll go through both. First, the recap of events since last time.

The literature festival I was stoked about was awesome. I attended talks with bestselling novelists Peter James, Kate Mosse, Frank McCourt, Wilbur Smith, Giles Foden, Philippa Gregory, and Julia Glass, and I personally met all of those but Giles Foden. I attended a writing workshop with Kate Mosse’s husband: writer, editor and creative writing instructor Greg Mosse. I learned a lot about writing and publishing. I networked. I rubbed elbows and gleaned wisdom and insight. A few of the things I learned:

Writers are people too. I knew this, obviously, but actually meeting them in the flesh was a rather neat experience. When I read the dedication page or acknowledgments page or even a bit of trivia that the author mentioned in their talk that a character from their book also mentions, a human aspect of the whole writing thing comes in to it. I’ve met these people. I know them (superficially, of course, but it’s something). Why is that important to me? Because I’m a person, and seeing these personal things in their writing, published writing, bestselling writing, is somewhat refreshing and encouraging. My personal, human elements that make it into my story are natural and indeed integral to all good writing. These bestseller novelists are just normal people who write— like me. Kind of encouraging in a roundabout sort of way.

There isn’t one right way to write, research, or edit. There are several, and it depends on the author (not even, apparently, on the genre) as to which works best for them. It was rather interesting seeing different authors giving completely opposite answers to the same question about the researching, writing, or editing process. Which is good and bad. Bad in that there isn’t one ‘right’ way to do these things. Good in that there isn’t one ‘right’ way to do these things. It’s not formulaic, but then, it’s also a better fit for the individual author (i.e. me) and their style when you find what works.

I also learned some pieces about writing, researching, editing, and the quest for a publisher from the various authors as well: different ideas to try and see which works best for me.

In addition, both Greg Mosse and Julia Glass left the festival with a copy of the first two chapters of my novel, promising to read it and get back to me. Ms. Glass hasn’t yet responded, but she said it might take a while as she had a full novel-length draft from a personal friend of hers to go through first. Mr. Mosse responded in about a week’s time, and was not only impressed with the excerpt but felt that it would find a receptive audience in the thriller market. Huzzah!

And on the writing front (but separate from the festival), I’ve sent those first two chapters, a brief synopsis, and a letter of introduction to a friend of mine who is well-connected to a lot of people in the publishing industry. He’s volunteered to use his connections to get my novel in the hands of the right people. I’m also networking as much as I can, hoping that, with enough hands working on this, magic will happen. My goal is to already be in dialogue with a publisher/editor/agent by the time I arrive back in the States in three months, and have signed a publishing deal by the time I leave again for Dubai two months thereafter. Keep that in your thoughts and prayers if you would. I’ve been praying like Jabez for this, my biggest goal and dream, to come to fruition in spectacular fashion. Here’s hoping!

On the teaching front. Ups and downs, as can be expected with any teaching year, much less a first year teacher living a world away from everything and everyone I’ve ever known in a paradox-riddled city at a school where the curriculum is being written as it’s being taught. With four preps. If you’ve ever been a teacher, you know how incredibly most of those elements can be; all combined at once, it can be nightmarish sometime. But I’m making it. Getting all sorts of material for Dancing with Chimeras when I finally sit down to pen it in a year or so.

And on the life front, I got suckered into chaperoning the high school Spring Formal dance. In true Dubai style, it was held in a posh hotel ballroom, the tickets costing the kids the equivalent of $61 a pop. Appetizers outside in the lobby, a fancy buffet dinner, and a hopping dance party. And I, along with my fellow colleague-chaperones, felt like an old fogey. Now, I’m a cool old fogey, according to my students (well, they don’t call me old or fogey, but whatever), but it was still kinda weird. Most of my students were trying to get me to dance, and some of them actually managed to quite literally drag me to the dance floor – not once, but twice – before I beat my hasty retreat. But I made up for it the following night, when I went with five of my female colleagues (I know, it’s a hard life, eh?) to a very nice, dress-to-impress nightclub by the Dubai Marina. The place is called Boudoir, and if Disney’s Haunted Mansion had an adjacent nightclub/bar, this is what it would look like. The décor, the walls, the shape of the room itself were very gothic-looking, especially the centerpiece of the establishment: a giant onyx chandelier hanging over the dance floor, its lights dimmed to a spectral glow in true haunted house fashion. Great place, great night, and… and less students to make me feel old.

Which pretty much takes me to April… and the future. This Wednesday (April 1st), I’m going to Cairo, Egypt for another MUN conference with my two chaperones-in-crime, Martine and Sunali, and fourteen Grade 10 and 11 students. Yes, I’m boarding a plane, checking into a hotel, and traveling to another country with fourteen children – at least two of whom are full-fledged chuckleheads – on April Fool’s Day. I don’t know what we were thinking… Regardless, I’m quite excited about the chance to travel to Egypt and visit the pyramids for free (being a chaperone is such a great little gig). Of course, a lovely little travel journal will follow my journey, but perhaps not immediately afterwards. I’ll be getting back the wee hours of the morning on April 7th. Our Spring Break begins April 10th. I’ll hopefully be going to Iran with my friend-colleague Nathan for six days over the break (provided one of our many Iranian students’ parents will sponsor us Americans), so that’ll be another fun travel journal (and probably my last one before I come back to the States).

As for the more distant future, I’ll be coming back to the States around June 18, catching a few hours’ sleep at home before boarding another plane for the wedding of a friend of mine in Texas. I’ll probably spend a few days taking in the sights of Dallas before heading back to Tallahassee to see all of my friends and family who will have been waiting a year to see me. Goal number one for the summer is to get published, but in addition to that, I’ll be travelling a lot: to Texas for the aforementioned wedding, to Michigan and Canada for another wedding in August, to Jacksonville and St. Augustine with my friend Travis, to Disney World with my family, to New York to sign a book deal (IhopeIhopeIhope), and possibly to California to visit a friend of mine from over here who’s going home after this year. Of course, I’m also very much looking forward to catching up with my friends and family, exploring Tallahassee and eating lots of Chick-fil-a, Cracker Barrel, and Los Compadres. Good times.

Well, that’s all for this edition. Please keep the novel publishing situation in your thoughts and prayers, and as always, thanks for keeping up with my adventures over here.

Chasing Dreams

The past few weeks have been a roller coaster. The lowest, most despondent moments of my first year of teaching, exacerbated all the more by my lack of a real social and familial network over here (not to mention a real dearth of Christian fellowship), followed by back-to-back good news: first, another potential avenue to get my novel published when I get home in June, followed by the news that my best friend in Dubai, Martine, who had been home in California due to a family emergency since November (the day after we got back from Jordan), was coming back to Dubai. More ups and downs preceded and followed, but most of my ups since seem to be writing/publishing-related.

On the novel front, I’ve picked up the pen again, rewriting the novel (entitled From the Ashes, for those of you not in the know) into what should be a final draft (to be tweaked between its completion circa the first of May and its hopeful submission for publication in late June). This past week alone, I’ve written over nine-thousand words on it. As most of you who know me well are aware (especially those of you who’ve known me well in these past two years), there are few things in life that I want more than to be a published novelist, able to write for a living and travel the world researching ideas and locations for subsequent stories. And as God is wont to do, when I was the most distraught I’ve been in years, He goes and opens a window, a door, and possibly a whole slew of portholes in the possible attainment of my greatest dream. I have been blessed with at least two individuals who are well-connected in the publishing world who are interested in my work, at least one of which is eager to get my finished novel into the hands of the right people to get it published. Given, neither of them have read the latest version of the novel, but I don’t think it will disappoint. That’s the aforementioned door and window. Here come the portholes.

This weekend, the inaugural Emirates Airlines International Festival of Literature is coming to Dubai. Dubai Festival Center, actually, the mall that is located just a ten-minute walk from my school. Forty-some-odd authors from all over the world are coming to participate, giving presentations and hosting Q&A sessions, as well as availing themselves to fans for book signings, chats, etc. I’ve bought tickets for five sessions with five different bestselling authors (Peter James, Kate Mosse, Frank McCourt, Wilbur Smith, and Philippa Gregory), and I’ll be meeting Julia Glass, NY Times bestselling author and winner of the National Book Award, when she comes to our school on Sunday (the first day of the workweek out here, if you’ve missed that in previous entries). In short, I’ll be meeting six bestselling, well-connected authors in the next week. Hence, my portholes.

In addition, I’m going to be taking along the first twenty-four pages of my revised novel (the prologue and first chapter)… just in case the opportunity might arise for me to show it to one of the authors. Who knows? If they read it, they could offer suggestions (from someone who is familiar with the publishing and editing process), or, if they’re particularly wowed (which, considering the busyness of the festival, I don’t really think they’ll have the energy to be wowed by something some silly festival-goer wrote), perhaps they’ll give my contact information, with the author’s recommendation, to someone within the industry. Probably a pipe dream, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Even if nothing much happens to get the ball rolling on me getting published this weekend (which is the most likely scenario), I’ll still glean some insights on the life of a full-time author and on the craft from professionals in the field. Should be an exciting and enriching weekend, no matter which way things happen.

Also on the writing front, I’ve begun preliminary work on a non-fiction book based on my experiences, observations, and thoughts about life on the ground here in Dubai. Plenty of books have been written on the city, but most of them have been from a business perspective. Dealing with the children from all over the world, from all sorts of religious, economic, racial, national, and cultural backgrounds, as well as watching the interplay between them and the society they call ‘home’ (at least as much as anyone calls Dubai ‘home’, but that’s a different chapter altogether) has provided a unique insight that I haven’t found to be attainable outside my profession. The book will be probably divided into two sections – one on life as a ‘normal person’ in Dubai (rather than as one of the rich and famous for whom the city is designed to be a playground, or as one of the businessmen responsible for designing and constructing said playground) and one on the insights gleaned as a teacher of the various children of the people making up this grand microcosm of the world. There’ll likely be some overlap there, but those are the basic divisions. I’ve also been told that I should write a book of travel writing, and in all likelihood, I will, but that’ll be separate from this project. I haven’t started actually penning the book itself at the moment, as my writing energies are primarily dedicated to the novel (and keeping you folks back home abreast of my adventures… though I’m sorry for the somewhat rambling nature of this entry… I just churned out another thousand words of From the Ashes, and it used up all my good writing), but I’m keeping notes and recording statistics, experiences, and anecdotes so that when I do begin writing it (probably not until after my stint here is complete), I’ll have a wealth of material already at my fingertips.

So there I am. Hoping, praying to get published in 2009, and pursuing every avenue God opens up to me. And since I’m on it (and I know many of you probably already are), I’d appreciate your prayers on this matter: for the right doors to be opened at the right time. Also, any support you can offer me in this endeavor (whatever that means to you… not donations or anything like that… unless they’re made in cookies!), would be greatly appreciated. And drop me a line if you can sometime (JeremyJBurns@gmail.com). I don’t have much Internet time out here (I only have access at school for the time being), so I might not be able to respond in a timely manner, but any little note from you folks back home would be neat. It gets lonely out here sometimes.

Here’s hoping for magic happening and dreams being fulfilled this weekend and beyond, and as always, thanks for tuning in!

“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.”
– Walt Disney

Inspiration in Roma

[Note: I wrote the following entry towards the end of December. In the interest of giving my entries some semblance of chronology, I refrained from posting this entry until I had written and posted the entries from Bangladesh and Jordan. It appears in its original, unadulterated form, so when reading it, please bear in mind that it was written over a month ago, and refer to the next entry where I will post for more up-to-date information on what’s going on in my life at the moment. And as always, thanks for reading!]

Rome. Where do I start? How do I regale what was the most amazing and perhaps important trip I’ve yet undertaken? I guess I’ll take a page from Maria von Trapp’s book (of The Sound of Music fame) and start at the beginning.

As mentioned in a previous entry, my school closed for an additional three days in early December, bringing a previously seven-day holiday to a much nicer twelve days. So I decided I should go somewhere. Most of my friends at the school had already made their travel plans, and I didn’t want to latch onto someone else’s already-made plans. I knew that wherever I would go, I would go alone. I didn’t trust myself on my own in Southeast Asia or other such third-world locales (where many of my colleagues were going, albeit in groups), especially considering the instability and anti-American terrorism that the region has been rife with in the preceding weeks. I had been on two long trips since coming to Dubai in August: one to Bangladesh with three other teacher-friends and one to Jordan with two teacher-friends and twenty-one screaming high-school students. Lots of touristy activities and ventures (or, in the case of the former, as touristy as Bangladesh could be). See various places, experience the country, sharing the whole adventure with friends. Which is how I always thought I loved to travel: making memories with someone to share them with. But this option was not open to me for this break. Or rather, it was, it could have been, but I chose to forgo it. Work, life had become quite stressful for me in the previous weeks, and I felt that I had some introspection to do, some soul-searching if you will, regarding where I am, where I’m going, who I am, who I want to be, how I plan to get there, and other million-dollar questions of that ilk. Travelling alone would be an excellent opportunity for me to probe those questions, do some writing, get back to what makes me feel most fulfilled and alive. Where would be a good place for that? Where had I always wanted to travel? What part of the world so fascinated me with its history, its people, its edifices, its culture? Answer: Europe. The specific destination for this little trip? Rome, Italy.

I don’t exaggerate when I say that I could live in Rome. In fact, my pipe dream involving lucrative book deals and relative financial freedom in the near future also has me living in Rome for a year or so. There are thousands of stories just waiting to be written in that city. Its history, the churches, palaces, catacombs, and ruins, the mystery and majesty, the dark corners and rich artistry, the whole of the city just oozes inspiration. But I’ll come back to that later.

The cheapest flight I could find on Expedia was on Aeroflot, a Russian airline I had never heard of before. It routed me through Moscow (with a ten-hour layover en route, and a six-hour layover on the way back to Dubai), but as this flight was significantly less expensive than all the rest of my options, I went for it. As I would have had to apply for a visa to leave the airport (which requires both time and a sponsor within Russia, neither of which I had available), I spent the whole of my sixteen hours in Moscow in the airport. That first night in the Moscow airport was decidedly arduous. Considering my degree in history, I should have heeded the lessons provided by the errors of Napoleon and Hitler, but I travelled to Russia in winter regardless. Trying to sleep on a row of uncomfortable airport waiting area chairs in a poorly-heated (if at all) terminal manned by unsmiling and non-English speaking workers was an experience, to be sure. I sat next to a friendly Russian guy in his mid-thirties named Ilya on the flight from Dubai to Moscow. He spoke fairly good English, stemming from his experience in a university exchange program in the States in the early nineties. Nice guy. The only one in Moscow, I think. I know my experience with Russia and Russians is limited at best, but good heavens! They just don’t smile. Even to each other. Maybe it’s because they were on the night-shift at the airport in winter. Maybe it’s because I didn’t speak any Russian (I had brought an Italian phrasebook, but I wasn’t planning on spending much time, and thus, talking, in Russia, so I was admittedly ill-prepared in that regard), but they didn’t even smile to one another, so that argument loses credibility pretty easily. I think it’s most likely because Russia is (and has historically been) commonly associated with four things: atrocious weather, tyrannical leadership, depressing literature, and vodka. And those nesting dolls. I guess that’s their little ray of sunshine. But, at least at the airport duty-free shop, they were rather overpriced. As, I suppose demand for levity and joy would outweigh supply in Russia, so that makes sense. But now I’m getting analytical with something intended to be facetious, so we’re going to skip back to the story now. Sorry if you were enjoying my analysis of the cause of Russian antipathy. I don’t really know what the cause is for certain. I just know they should smile more. If they can do it in Bangladesh, they can do it in Russia. C’mon guys! Stalin’s dead. Laugh a little. It won’t get you killed (probably…).

Leaving the coldness of Russia and Russians behind me, I flew to Rome, Italy. Now, I could easily delve into a step-by-step recap of my trip in Rome, but that would not only be unnecessarily time-consuming (both for me as writer and for you, my faithful readers), but it would also be somewhat contrary to the purposes of my trip. For, you see, this was not a sight-seeing trip. Oh, sure, there were plenty of sights seen (and many more I have yet to see), but, as I mentioned earlier, this trip was different. It wasn’t the ‘go, go, go, rush, rush, rush, take pictures of everything I can and move on to the next church, palace, monument or ruin’ attitude that drives the trips of most tourists (myself included, albeit I tend to loiter a bit more, taking more pictures from more angles and such, than most). The girl who checked me into the hostel the first morning was surprised at the length of my stay (nine days, eight nights), as most travelers (especially young ones staying at hostels) tend to spend a few nights in one city before moving on to the next. So much to see, so little time. Go, go, go. But what I most wanted to see, what I most desired to explore and seek out was not a monument, a basilica, or a decrepit edifice from ages past. To be sure, my encounters with those sorts of locales provided an ideal environment for my true goal, but they served simply as a means to an end. What I wanted to see, to explore, to discover, was myself. And that I did.

I won’t share all of my deepest revelations here. For one, they are revelations primarily for me, and thus far more private than should be broadcast on a public medium such as this blog. For another, some of what I discovered I am in still in the process of analyzing: what I learned, what that means, and how it should (and will) be manifested in my life. Indeed, how those revelations manifest in my life, both at present and in the months and years to come, should be more than sufficient evidence as to the nature and importance of said introspective discoveries. I will share some of what I discovered, though; but first, the process.

As I’ve mentioned, this was not intended to be a touristy trip. As such, for much of my trip, I just explored. I wandered the streets, coming to intersections and picking a direction at random (unless I saw a church or particularly impressive-looking building down one of the streets, but even in that, I was often torn, as all-too-often there were multiple churches, etc. down each avenue… that’s Rome, for you, though). I discovered both the Basilica of St. John Lateran and the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore by accident, just stumbling upon them while exploring. In the course of my exploration, I made every endeavor to avoid tourists. Especially while eating. Most every restaurant I ate at was several side alleys away from the main thoroughfares and tourist sites. I spoke, read, and listened to as much Italian as possible. It’s amazing what you can learn of a language just by reading the signs and adverts around town. (Given, my knowledge of Spanish and my love of etymology certainly helped in my learning). In fact, I felt quite international during the trip, as I spoke a combination of English, Italian, Spanish, German, and French, depending on who I was with at the time, while reading a good smattering of both Italian and Latin (again, utilizing my knowledge of those and related languages, and using etymology and conjecture to fill in the gaps). Also on the international aspect, I befriended people from Italy (duh!), Germany, Australia, Brazil, Argentina, Greece, Korea, Spain, America, the Netherlands, and Israel. I went to St. Peter’s Basilica with my friend from Israel, and went on a couple of dates with a girl from Germany. After having lived in the Middle East for so long, it was interesting (and somewhat refreshing) to see the other perspective of things (just as getting the Middle-Eastern perspective was interesting after having lived in the States for so long).

I enjoyed the Italian nightlife, including frequenting a few pubs and partying at a nightclub that seemed to be built into the arched basement of a medieval building. Truly an experience. But the real experience, the real meat of the trip, both in the time dedicated to it and in the long-lasting importance from the trip, was my writing.

I wrote some on a short story for which I had found inspiration shortly before leaving for the trip. I also wrote a little poetry (including one poem about Rome penned whilst sitting on the Spanish Steps at sunset… how’s that for romantic (no pun intended)?). But the bulk of my writing, inscribed in a notebook I carried around Rome with me everywhere I went, took the form of journal entries. Meditative, introspective, reflective. I analyzed, I probed, I second-guessed, I considered, I reconsidered, I wondered, I pondered, I asked, I answered, I dug, I dreamed. The entries covered a range of topics and emotions. I wrote them in numerous churches and basilicas around Rome. I wrote them while sitting in cafes and ristorantes frequented by locals. I wrote them at the Trevi Fountain, in St. Peter’s Square, on the Spanish Steps, in the shadow of the Colosseum. I reflected on my experiences, on my thoughts, my emotions, my goals, my dreams, my failures, my successes, my hopes, my fears, what I thought I wanted, what I now know I want, who I was before, who I was then, and who I want to become. I probed and pondered my thoughts and beliefs, on life, on love, on God, on humanity, on art, on faith, on ambition, on identifying dreams and making those dreams reality, on the brevity of life, on the importance of seizing every moment, on priorities, on relationships, on nigh everything of true import in this life and the next. I can’t tell you everything I learned, for all of my answers are not yet fully formed, and indeed, it may take years to find the words (if such words exist) to properly understand, and then describe, what I learned in Rome (and have been learning since). And again, some of what I decided may be too personal than would be apropos to publish here. A few things I did discover, or perhaps reaffirm, though:

First, I love writing. Writing, and the inspiration that leads to my writing (often taking the form of exploring new places, reading and researching, and traveling) is the single most fulfilling thing I know how to do. I’ve been told I have a gift for it. I don’t know about all that, but it’s what I love to do, and, increasingly, it’s what I know how to do. If I could write for a living, I might be the happiest man alive. And even now, though my profession is non-writing, whenever I write, I am brimming with satisfaction and a sense of fulfillment. More and more, I feel that writing is my calling. Whatever you take that to mean, it’s where my heart is, where my talents seem to lie, where my personality, interests, and goals all seem to fit. And I feel confident (as do many of my friends and family who unwaveringly support me and my pursuit of this dream) that I will be a published author someday. Perhaps sooner than I think. God’s got a way of surprising me like that, and, generally speaking, when I get an idea into my head, an idea that’s more than just a fleeting thought but is the type one structures ones life around, when I get a solid goal in my mind, I pursue it doggedly (I guess that’s my Taurus coming out). And almost without fail, it comes true. The fact that, against all odds and logic, I’m writing this in Dubai should bear testament to that.

Second: this isn’t so much a nice concise ‘discovery’ that I can pack into a little nugget for you (and me), as it is a feeling, a point of growth that happened on the trip. On the trip, in all of my striking out on my own, my exploring, my meeting people, my engaging in new, unfamiliar experiences, I found myself growing in confidence. There are more aspects to it than that (for, to be sure, I have been striking out on my own, exploring, meeting people, and experiencing new things ever since coming to Dubai), and I won’t get into the specifics of the new level of confidence I’m finding myself having, but it’s definitely a higher place of growth and understanding, both of myself and my place in the world around me.

Third (or third and fourth if you prefer, for at this point, the ideas become fairly enmeshed): the world is rather quite different than I had imagined from my relatively sheltered life in Tallahassee. Given, this is a fact that I have been becoming gradually more aware of since I came to Dubai, but this came out all the more in Rome; whether this is because of the numerous experiences I had and everything I encountered while on my trip, or if it is due primarily to my time of reflection, I cannot say; I simply know that I gained a greater acquaintance and understanding of the bigger world while in Italy. When I say that the world is different, I do not mean to say that it is necessarily better or worse; I simply mean that it is different. Certainly some aspects could be argued, from one moralistic worldview or another, to be better or worse than my initially conceived notions, but, as these notions were based on hypothesis and ideals, and as the world I’ve since encountered is based on fact and experience, to compare the two would be a fallacious enterprise.

Following on the heels of that discovery comes a nugget about my writing (this would be where the ‘fourth’ revelation would begin, if you wish to break them up as such). I began writing my first in July 2006, after drawing inspiration from my first trip to New York City. That year, from the summer of 2006 to the summer of 2007, I just wrote. My source material for my writing came from my own head. And, though perhaps not quite crap, it left much to be desired, both in content and in style. Stage 2 of my writing development began in September 2007: I started to read like crazy. In fact, since September 2007, I’ve read over 200 books, most of them novels. There’s an adage or two about having to read to be able to write, and they are decidedly true. When I picked up the pen again to start working on my novel (after a too-long hiatus from the work, but having read dozens of novels in the interim), I ended up scrapping most of my previous work. The overarching story remained, but most of the scenes I had penned thus far (and almost all of the writing) got the axe. And the work was all the better for it. I could recognize good writing and bad writing much better. I knew what worked and what didn’t, what should be told and what should be shown, all the little nuances of writing and pacing much better than before (but certainly, even now, I have much, much more to learn and grow in). (I apologize for the lengthiness of this ‘nugget’ I’ve claimed to have discovered, but I promise its end is forthcoming.) I thought I was done with stages, that I would continue along the path set forth by stage 2 of reading much and writing even more to grow as an author. But, in moving to Dubai, and in all of my new experiences, in all of the new locations I’ve explored, in all of the encounters with ‘real life’ I’ve had, in all the discoveries about how the world really is, I’ve found inspiration, both for new works and for how to make my current works better, more authentic, more relevant. Enter stage 3: engaging in life, experiencing and understanding how the world really works, instead of writing from an isolated, sheltered perspective which anyone who has actually lived outside a box (which would be most of my readers) could recognize as artificial. And I’ve been blessed with an ideal place for that. A place where travel is easy, where life comes at you fast, where can be found a microcosm of all the world’s joys and ills, of peoples and languages, of experiences both new and timeless: Dubai. Dubai may be a shallow, often artificial place, but there is much here that will provide both insight and inspiration, both as a writer and as a person. After all, this is the Middle East: underneath the shallow sand of the glitz and glamour, there’s bound to be some petroleum reserves of experience, wisdom, and encounters with the real world that I can draw on in my stories and in life. And to find it, I just have to dig.

Just like I did in Rome.