Traveling in the Mind and on the Page

     The map of California stands in front of me. I drew it, so half of the state looks bent, and crackles of marker roads lead from one blob, San Francisco, to an X, Los Angeles. I stare at the marker trail and hum to myself.
     At the end of the room sits the professor and one student. She's asking for help on her essay, and while privacy is asked, I hear muffles of thoughts over from the white board in the center of the room. In front me, scribbles of thoughts, ideas and musings create noise in my brain.
      I've driven the road, Frisco to LA, many times. On my trips up north, I enjoy the desolation such a drive creates. There's nothing for miles; then highways become loops and drops. After thirty minutes, it's back to driving on a plain for hours it seems. I call it living-in-limbo.
     In a work-in-progess novel I have, one character is driving from the bay to southern California, and the landmarks are just as important as the scenarios the character faces. He's taking the Grapevine, a road that leads up and down slopes steeper than most get to drive in their lives. Half of the time, the Grapevine is closed. Weather conditions are so adverse that travelers must listen to the radio and news just to know what will happen.
     My eyes follow the trail I've scribbled, and I think of the small curio stores, the repetitive McDonald's and diner locations. My family's stopped at most, so I try to smell the grease hanging in the air, the sun beating down on our necks. At night, the hubbles are the only source of light for miles.
     Traveling is something that I love, for it gives me a chance to see new worlds, even if they're only an hour or more away. Family vacations have turned into horrifying, lonely settings for my characters, and desolate locations themselves have turned into themes of hope, promise.
     Americans, I argue, don't do it enough. Vacations are spent at Disneyland, New York, or somewhere so tourist filled one can taste the churros or street hotdogs. But real, American road trips have fallen out of peoples' repertoire.
     I wipe my hand over the scribbled road and destroy half of California. It's ten. I walk to my professor and pass him what I have. We talk, and we leave the room to head downstairs, where his dog and wife wait. We leave, and I'm back on a lamp-lit road, heading home.

Further Confusion, a Not so Confusing Trip

          Walking to a Safeway started my morning, and already, I had seen several convention goers in large animal costumes and uniforms from various anime shows. The sky was open, free of clouds, and the sun warmed me even with the sixty degree temperature. On my back, I carried my bag with a legal pad, box of business cards, and a copy of The Hobbit. Only thing I had forgotten was my room key.
          Further Confusion (FC) is a convention that takes place in San Jose, California, and focuses on anthropomorphic animals and illustrations, something still popular since the years of Disney's The Lion King. Artists, writers, and costumers network and sell their wares and creations. Taking place in a hotel, the convention allows for parties as well, and even with no sense of smell, I can feel the alcohol radiate from the fox I pass by.
          I reach the Safeway with my two roommates, both who are creators of these expensive suits. We pick up sandwich bread and bananas (non-organic due to price). Also, I take this chance to get breakfast. After a walk back, we collapse on our room's beds. A stack of newly purchased novels lay next to me. No spending, I tell myself.
         Outside of buying stuff, there were panels to attend as well as hold. I didn't make it to any of the writing panels I wished to see, but I was on a panel with Kyell Gold and Watts Martin, two authors who are known around the fandom for their fiction. The panel discussed releasing stories and publishing. I focused more so on magazines, blogging and twitter. Questions were passed around for us until the two hours ended, and everyone went on his or her way.
          For me, conventions and conferences present the opportunity to network, unlike what staying behind a keyboard and screen does. Publishers attend as well as fans, and several of my own friends are artists, like my roommates. They spent their time selling behind desks. I lumbered around when I could and helped if they needed it.
          The most important thing for me, however, is getting grounded, and FC allows that. I get to remember my start as a writer, my stressful growth from where I once was. I attended these events with my partner at the time, more focused on the party aspect, but the real thing that draws myself and others is the passion. The time spent on the works seen crawls with it. When people state they wake up in the morning to write, illustrate, or sing, it shows here. It is inspiring, simply. And the energy pushed around gets me working.
          For now, I'm back home and resting. I have started a new piece, and the novel I have been working through is also under heavy focus still. School is coming up, and work is still keeping me busy.
          It's as though I have stepped out of a dream world, and reality is slowly coming back to me. The memories I've made this FC will stay with me, and I look forward to the next upcoming event on my schedule, The San Gabriel Valley Literary Festival. 2014 is turning out to be a great year, and I couldn't be happier.


Kyell gold is the author of Out of Position, Green Fairy, and other anthropomorphic texts. His work can be found on Sofawolf.com.

Information for The San Gabriel Valley Literary Festival can be found at SGVlitfest.com.

Summer Travels

          Napa, California, was something more than what I expected it to be. At first, I had heard it was where tourists visited to taste wine, get drunk, then regret it and move on back towards their work schedules and lives. My friends made it sound as though it was a location filled with older people three-times my age and up taking photos to show their grandchildren. My grandmother had planned it, and while she is older, I didn't take what my friends had said and applied it to her. Instead, I went with an open mind, a legal pad, and a plan.
          My brother decided not to come with us, but that didn't stop the rest of us from enjoying ourselves. Of course, there's the wine, which starts at downtown Napa and leads up north past where he had stopped, a winery built within a renaissance-esque castle.

          But I wasn't there for wine. Instead, I was there with the opportunity to tell others I had been there, something much like the idea that it's more fun to have written than to actually write. I did taste wine, but it was too dry for me, and when I did find the wines I enjoyed, the one slipping my glasses gave me two bottles and a wave of the hand (I think my grandma bought three).
          Wine is not the only taste of Napa, we learned, as I had spotted a diner filled with people out the front and down near the curb. Stopping, we had lunch and the burgers, much to my expectations, were amazing. As a write, I would make up some excuse to return and draft a novel, or an article such as this. But I would return in actuality to this very stand, and I would have another of their delicious bacon-cheeseburgers.

          Throughout the trip, my legal-pad sat in my Mickey Mouse labled backpack, and stories bled out of me unlike anything I had experienced before. Driving up the 5 at the start, I thought of a man driving home from a business conference to a static-filled radio; however, in the static, he hears the world ending and his loved ones dying. While trying to find our hotel, I illustrated the conflicts faced within five pages and thought of a gas-station attendant too bored out of her mind that she helped us. I sit here now remembering these incidents and tales, and it feels as though I could push them out as one reads this.
          We left Napa only after a short stay and traveled to San Francisco, a city too close to my heart to forget. It's a different world in that several different cultures blend into one fondue of creativity, openness, and passion. Walking down the streets and seeing the filled cable cars demonstrates the passion these people hold while going to a Giants game. Visiting Milk Plaza and seeing a district built on rights and freedom is eye-opening to say the least. The music's not bad, either. In this way, traveling is an amazing way to see what's out there--artist, writer, student, or none.

          I travel with my family every summer, and even though some rides can be rough, the ability to capture an entire destination in words and pictures is astounding. Growing up, I never had the chance to see outside the walls of my family's homes. Now, as I travel to conferences, conventions, and possibly haunted locations, my life is able to become something much grander than what I had ever dreamed. Writers, spend some time out in the world and see what's out there to inspire you. Artists, visit the oceans, mountains, and sunsets, and capture it all in paint, sketch, or photography.
          Families, don't bring your six-year-old to Napa and ask him why he won't keep quiet. He won't, so just go with it, and write it down.