Who Do You Listen To?

While riding the Metro-North into Manhattan in late December, I was reading The Science of Getting Rich by Wallace Wattles. I marched through Grand Central and continued downtown on Madison Avenue where I pictured piles of checks handed to me. “Pay to the order of Eric Sazer, Three hundred sixty-five thousand and two-hundred twenty-one dollars”, “Pay to the order of Mister Eric Sazer for the amount of Eighty-eight thousand, nine-hundred and fifty three dollars,” “Dear Eric, Please deposit this check written out to you, Eric Sazer, for the full amount of four-hundred and two thousand, seven-hundred and sixteen dollars. Enjoy it”. Block after block my mere thoughts alone were putting me into the billionaire bracket.

Anyone who knows me personally will attest to the fact that if greed rides though my bones, it does so on extremely low dosages. This desire to be wealthy rides more on the coattails of helping the world while doing the things I love rather than getting sloppy rich, lazy and unconscious. I could write an entire essay or blog post on how I’d use money to positively change the world around me (note to self).

By the time I hit East Thirty-third Street, I had enough funds to purchase Murray Hill. The glow within was so enormous I just couldn’t contain myself. I looked over at a younger man on his cell phone. We exchanged glances and then he asked if I needed any help. Shoving my wad of etheric billions into an unknown abyss, I shrugged. The younger man rushed off the phone with his mother and asked me who I am. I tell him my name and that I’m a writer. Coincidentally, he’s a marketer seeking a writer for a specific project. The nature of this project wasn’t revealed until days later: Ghostwriting the lyrics to a hit song for a fourteen-year-old girl with a golden voice.

Despite my limited experience in songwriting I agreed to the assignment. Why? Spoiler alert—the main character in my novel becomes a lyricist. The excitement working on this ghostwriting project ebbed (due to my insecurities as a lyricist) but mostly flowed (come on, who wouldn’t want to be wealthy after writing a hit song that makes millions happy?). On Thursday, January 28th, my excitement for this assignment came to a screeching halt when the young marketer asked for two first draft verses due on a meeting tentatively set for Sunday afternoon. Terror is what killed the excitement. “Four days isn’t enough time,” I told myself. “I really need to sit with this and let the words seep out naturally.” Oh the lies! The deception!

Later that day, I get on a call with a wonderful woman who used to work in the music industry. When I shared with her this project along with my terrors (which by then had spiraled out of control. “I’m no songwriter! Who am I fooling?), she did what any being would do…she acted as my mirror. At the end of the call, I was 98% sure that I’d have to abandon the ghostwriting project. Then a small voice in my head said, “Eric, stranger things have happened. Who cares that you don’t have years of experience writing songs? What about the novel? How is the main character going to be a lyricist if you don’t know how to write lyrics yourself?”

These past two days, the voices of terror played a grueling match of Ping-Pong against the voices of encouragement. Late this morning the match finally came to an end when I shared my concerns with the music producer on this project. He urged me to ignore those voices of terror. “What’s the worst that will happen,” he argued. “You write a bad song? So what?” The music producer insisted that I give this more than a month’s shot. “If after three months and your lyrics are less then desirable, than we can revisit you moving on.” How wonderful it to see the voices of terror vanish into silence.

I’m no fool. The voice of terror has a way of creeping in when you least expect it. Everything can be honky dory one minute only for seconds later paralysis kicks in. It happens to the best of us. The outcome of this song is unknown. I could write killer lyrics but the girl with the golden voice may not know how deliver it. Another outcome—all the world agrees that the lyrics are God awful but something about the beat, the girl’s voice and a tiny quarter of one verse gets everyone off their seats, dancing, singing along, raising vibrations, ending wars…ooh the possibilities puts a chill down my spine.

So, reader, who do you listen to? Do you play it safe? Do you not get up on that stage during karaoke because you might be so damned good (note to self)? Are you the type to sit in the back row hiding under your winter coat during an interactive theatrical piece (note to self once again)? When finished writing your blog, do you push the ‘delete’ button (if there is one) instead of ‘publish’, reader? Please comment below.

I will leave you with the song that got me dancing at the end of my last blog post. Until next time!


Enough Descending! Time to Ascend

Those readers who have been with me from the very beginning know that I titled this blog Descent Into A Creative Mind. That was all fine and dandy at first as tapping into my creativity did feeling like a spelunking expedition. There was a ton of bullshit to wade through, such as, “What’s this nonsense I’ve tapped out on the page?” or “Does anybody give a crap about what I have written here?” or “Is it descent or descend?” These types of questions went on and on. Underneath all this bullshit (heck let’s just call a spade a spade here. It was my shit. I’m not a bull. I’m a human after all…I think), I finally found myself (Eureka!) along with the subject of my new novel entitled The Admired. The only spoilers you’ll get about this novel is that it’s a satire on obsession and er…it’s slightly autobiographical, emphasis on the word slightly. The rest you’ll have to read when the book comes out (I’m 46,000 or so words into the writing of this novel. That’s about 1/3 of the way through).

I made a decision to give this blog a new look and a retitling. (Those of you who clicked the hyperlink—Welcome back! Where the hell did you think I was going to send you? I was in the middle of a sentence for crying out loud!). Joyously together we can call this blog The Ascent To Our Creative Minds. The intention of this facelift is to inspire, inform, enlighten, ignite passion under our tushies and pull together a community of brilliant souls. Yes, that means you! If any of this interests you, please read on.

When talking about ascension this isn’t some New Age hodgepodge. It’s real folks. I’ve discovered the roots of agelessness and unconditional love. How, you may ask: The expression of creativity. This is the inner child at play. You might say, “Well, I’m too old. I’ll never change” or “How’s this gonna help? I need to make money. Playing is for kids.” Bullshit alert! I mean human shit alert! Whatever-species-you-are-shit alert! I don’t care if you’re two or two thousand years old, all of us have an inner child. There’s tons of literature out there to prove this. Comment below with your doubts and I’ll be pleased to send you a handful of links. Should you still be sitting there bemoaning, “This jerk with this inner child nonsense”, let me ask you, don’t you want to laugh and feel the joys you once had as a child? Heck, I know I do. If you don’t, I’m not judging here but it would absolutely perplex me if you were to respond, “Eric, I actually hate laughing. Nothing beats a good ol’ serious boring day. While the sun rises, I yell at my loved ones. Cut people off on the road. Fire everyone at work. Sue my clients. Heck, they smelled like piss anyway. Then come home. Why eat a delicious dinner when you can munch on a nice microwaved paper towel. At 7:30 PM on the dot I lock myself in a frigid broom closet. Ain’t no mattress there! Why lay down when you can stand up? God gave us two feet for a reason. After some leaning against the icy wall, I do it all over again the next day.” Well, friend, I don’t even know what to say to that one.

Now, since we are all living here on planet Earth, money does need to be made in some capacity. However, why not go about it while having some fun? Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m not talking about something kinky here, although that is not out of the scope of possibilities. There have been worse ways riches have been accrued. What I was getting at is a technique some of the greatest entrepreneurs use called brainstorming. The root of this is creativity.

I’ll go more in detail on all of these topics and more in future posts. In the meantime, regardless of your age, sexuality, economic status, connection with spirit, enjoyment of sleeping in a frigid broom closet, I really hope to learn more about you. Together let’s break through our limitations and soar through our most elevated selves. I suggest after reading this, you put some wild music on and get your dancing feet going. That’s what my plan is once I push the “Publish” button.