The American Outback: September 2024

I have no idea how to sell books. Okay…I’ve read about marketing and publicity and building a brand or, more accurately, I start and just sort of shut down. I put my first book out four and a half years ago and have sixteen for sale now; I think I’ve sold twenty copies all told. They’re lost in the void. Amazon is like a large, public swimming pool in the summer, every sqaure inch taken. You’re a single person. Yeah, you went to the pool to cool off but you’re also looking to attract someone—how do you do it? There are so many available people in that crowded pool, how do you stand out? This is my problem.

The American Outback is my non-fiction series currently totalling three books. I started writing it in 2013 and it played a role in the end of my second marriage—

And now I am living in Portland again, in a city. It’s good, I am within walking distance of my job, the library, the grocery stores, and, most importantly, my bar*. The only downside are all the homeless people, people living with serious mental health and addiction issues. How do we allow these people to fall through the cracks? Why aren’t we looking after them? Why should you and I have to deal with what is, honestly, a potentally dangerous situation? This is the fourth American Outback book…I haven’t been working on it much but I’ve been keeping an extremely detailed journal so I have the source material. Honestly, I’ve been more focused on music than writing the past few months but I know I’ll flip the switch again at some point…or continue to try and juggle both.

Back to the American Outback series: It’s about the stress of expectations, the concept of what success is in the United States. In 2013 I started writing Disappearing is a Young Man’s Game, the first in the series. It was going to be a travel book but I came to understand it was a lot more. My ex wife—understandably—wanted security, she wanted a house with adult furniture and all that. Being loving her all those things appealed to me, as well…but they have a price and I came to understand that price was happiness.** I put everything on “living on a city” because that was easy, but it was bigger than that. It was about the unnatural pace of our lives in this country and, like I stated above, the stress of expectations. Was I courageous? Did I boldly stand up and say “I’m not playing along anymore”? No. My ex wife and the pandemic forced me to take my life in a completely new direction.

After losing my job, my marriage, and my home I bought a ten year old minivan and built it out. For a year I travelled, driving 50,000 miles all over the western United States. This story is covered in the second book of the series, No Signal. It is an experience I highly recommend because it made me understand how capable and resourseful I actually am. You want to build your confidence try finding a safe place to sleep everynight, keeping and cooking food, and using nature (or parks) for a restroom. Plus, if I ever got in a dire situation, I have places all over seven states where I could stay (if I had a vehicle to stay in). I also saw our modern world from the outside; normally I was in the middle of a forest or a desert, but when I had to drive in a city it was jarring—I used to live like this? How? Why?

In May of 2021, I got a job in a campground which is covered in Where the Fires Are. Man, I went into that gig full of idealism and came out understanding my country even better. The third American Outback book is about my time in the campground, my giving life in a city another shot, and then going back to a gig as a camphost in Southern California. I try to give a fair account of what that time was like, the good and the bad. By the summer of 2022 I was burnt out living out a minivan, especially in a busy campground. My employer—very generously—let me stay in company owned trailers. In my final spot there I built a walkway and kept my yard up.***

And now I’ve been back in Portland for six months. I have to be here until at least April when my lease runs out—what then? I was thinking the endless rain might be the big hurdle but now I’m thinking it will be the homeless. I had to go to my bank yesterday and they were all over. Most are just people trying to survive but some are, as stated above, dealing with serious issues…and I’m done with it. Part is not wanting to deal with it and part is that we, as a society, don’t deal with it but I’ve already gone on and on about this. Where next? My first thought was the northern part of the Central Valley, my second thought was “Izaak you’re an idiot.” I have tried to make the Central Valley work on two occasions and both times failed miserably. I believe I have finally gotten the message, my next home will be somewhere else, maybe someplace I’ve never been.

I do not think I will live exclusively out of a vehicle again but you never know. My apartment is 325 square feet and that is enough, honestly I could make a 200 square foot homebase work as long as it has a bathtub and some sort of a kitchen. It could be an apartment, cabin, trailer—whatever. In Disappearing is a Young Man’s game I was contemplating a little pickup with a camper on the back, I still think about that. My ideal would be having that camper at the ready for when I need to get away from whatever populated area I find myself in.****

So…the fourth American Outback book is going to be about the realities of living in a city, the homeless situation, and bits about how working people are treated in this day and age. How tough it is to survive. But, I don’t want it to be a downer, I want these things kind of threaded through a good story—this is going to be a challenge, obviously. It is daunting…which is why I haven’t been working on it. I also have two novels I need to sort out, the sixth book of song lyrics is about halfway finished, and then there are a couple of longish stories in the works—

And I am teaching myself to play the piano properly, real adult chords and all that—

And, I am dealing with…depression? Hopelessness? I know the life I want to lead, I want to be able to dedicate more time and energy to these projects, I want to be able to just get away to nature for a week or so…but how? How do I make that life practical? To be honest, it overwhelms me sometimes and yesterday was bad, as bad as it’s ever been. Luckily I’ve been dealing with this sort of thing for decades so I know it will eventually pass, it’s a bit better today, but I don’t get anything done when dealing with it.

So…those are the American Outback books and the “brand,” as it were.  I reached one goal last month and that was to become debt free (I paid off the van). I have financial obligations (rent, my phone, this website), but no debt and that’s an amazing thing. Thank you for reading this long ass blog and a double thank you if you’ve bought any of my books. If you’re wondering where to find them, here you go:

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B00EG7OKUY/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=2ee3923e-fe23-4721-929f-20841d44cd9b&ref_=ap_rdr

*Anyone who has read any of the American Outback books knows I have had a drinking problem. I no longer have alcohol where I live. I usually just have two beers (at the bar), two beers and one tequila or whiskey on my day off. Honestly, the bar is more of a social thing when I don’t want to be alone in my apartment.

**I was miserable and I know it was hard on my ex-wife. Also, as I explained above, I was intermittently drinking too much which is always delightful for a spouse to live with. I own that, this is why I took the step to no longer have alcohol where I live. My relationship with drinking has changed: If I have more than three drinks I feel gross. Even three drinks feels semi-gross.

*** I still miss my yard, miss spending sunsets sitting on a picnic table drinking wine, listening to music, and watching birds. Leaving my yard behind was heartbreaking. I think about it a year later and have contemplated writing my old boss, seeing if we can come up with an arrangement but…life forces you to move on for a reason, going backwards is not a good option but, (sigh), I miss having a yard, even a balcony.

**** One reason I sold Pandette is parking is very expensive here in Downtown Portland, it’s more stress to deal with. Monthly parking can range from $100 (renting a space in a driveway in another part of town) to $300 or more. Insurance is also ridiculous in Portland.