Ryan Holiday has quickly become one of my favorite authors with only two books. “Trust Me, I’m Lying” and “Ego is the Enemy” are two truly indispensible books for authors in the age of easy self publishing.
They are both quick and easily digestible reads, each with deep warnings about how dangerous the simple act of telling yourself an inaccurate story can be. I love writers, some of my best friends are writers, and that moral license inevitability compels me to tell them my favorite writer joke.
“What’s the difference between a writer and a large pizza? A large pizza can feed a family of four.”
For me, this joke is a test of character. If they think it’s funny, it’s because they understand the struggle but if they don’t it means they understand only the fear and treat it as an insult.
How could it not be? There are plenty of successful writers, and they dominate mediums like literature, television and comics. I think that reading Ryan’s books will help cure you of the inability to get the joke.
If you are a writer, I recommend these books – there are too many important ideas in them to ignore. But the most critical theme between the two of them is the simple and stoic idea of knowing, and being honest with yourself.
If you don’t laugh at my jokes, I promise I won’t take it personally. But maybe you should.
Literally the worst best convention ever. Hyperbole aplenty at this year’s con, the one show where I feel like there’s enough action and an audience for what I do. And that, honestly can confuse people because I do a lot.
When you walk by my table, you usually get a glimpse of my sculpture. For three or so years, I have been using 3d printed sculptures to draw people to my table. This year printed out a digital model of a concept I painted digitally a year or so prior. It was a nice progresson, 2d, to 3d, to 3d print. Cool right?
The morning of the second day, as the rush of people grew, one of my fellow exhibitors knocked over the statue. Most of the tentacles snapped right off. I was mentally prepared for this to happen before the show, but I really thought I was going to knock it over and not someone else.
It was a proud moment for me – I was actually trying to finish a commission when it happened and that turned out pretty darn cool.
I actually felt the palpable panic of the people next to me, who were very apologetic and far more embarassed than I was. It felt strange, usually I’m the one who freaks out, throws a fit, leaves, or just throws in the towel. I guess the added pressure of having to finish a commission for an old friend took the pressure off more than added to it. The pressure to create after destruction, it’s rocket fuel.
But I knew I printed that object so fast and light that it was particularly fragile. I took the risk. But even with the shattered tentacles, the piece still drew quite a few people curious about the look – to some people it looked like a demonic Venus De Milo, broken but still beautiful and almost unimaginable any other way.
It sits shattered at the very highest point on my desk hutch. Like a trophy.