Thoughts – Dan Steven Erickson

Rewrite

In 2023, I took a sabbatical from my teaching duties. The goal was to start the process of rewriting my cult-survival story. After taking a course on memoir writing and making the initial changes, I shied away from the project.

The rewrite I envisioned then wasn’t the right fit for my story. My goal was to get rid of any fictionalized parts, change fictional names to real names, people, places, etc. In a meeting with a memoir expert I decided it was all too much for too little return. She recommended in-depth research, interviews with former cult members, and a total rewrite, years of work.

Now I understand something. That is not what this story needs. It doesn’t need to be added to. It needs to be stripped back, reduced from a short novel to a mid-length novella. From over 40,000 words to under 30,000. Bare bones. And so the rewrite has begun.

The original book, A Train Called Forgiveness, was my first attempt at writing and publishing a book. I self-published and sold a modest amount of copies. It gets good reviews at Amazon. But as time passed, something has gnawed at me. Two things. First, the writing could be tighter. Second, there needs to be a thematic change. I’m not telling yet.

I’ve always loved minimalist writers and gritty writers. Cormac McCarthy and Denis Johnson come to mind. I love writers who make the process as much about editing as writing. Writers who painstakingly get rid of every unnecessary word, and then craft what remains into pure art. That’s the goal for the rewrite.

The new book will remain creative non-fiction, but many real names will be used. The title will change to Cult Boy. If you’d like to see the first chapter in progress, you can check it out on my new website, glitcsh.com. Beware, because it’s a work in progress, it might change from week to week as I hone in on the minimalist vibe I’m seeking. – dse

Big Life Update

Life is unpredictable. My move back to Maine is postponed.

I’m not happy about that but it is what it is. The lease is running out where we’re currently living and we’ll have to move locally sometime in April. My daughter will rent a place in Nashville and now that I’m not working, if I must stay in Tennessee, that will be much better.

I’ll be closer to Vanderbilt for my blood cancer specialist. I’ll also be nearer to music venues for performing, (if I choose), and attending shows. Maybe, I’ll even look for part-time work.

That’s the gist on the “life” side of things but I also want to address some changes in my posting schedule here.

I am going to post less often.

Recently, I reduced how often I post on my YouTube Channel. I’ve discovered that I really like that freedom. I’m also developing a new poetry website that will be much more of a static site than a “blog.” And that’s the direction I want to move here as well.

I’ll primarily continue to post news, new releases, and occasional poetry. I’m going to move away from feeling the need to post something just because more than a few days have passed. This new schedule starts now, so don’t be surprised if it’s a couple weeks until the next post. – dse

Glitch Poetry

A couple of days ago, I wrote a weird poem. It had some of the following elements:

Repetition
Coding Symbolism
Purposeful Misspelling
Dictionary Pronunciations
Words broken into Smaller Bits
Use of numbers

The poem was very short. That first poem led me to write an entire series of similar poems. I did some research to discover that I was writing “glitch poetry.” It also might fall into categories like anti-poetry and cyber punk.

Topics include technology, government, news, social media, sex, addiction; the individual struggle to not get lost in today’s overstimulated world.

Here’s short description of the 28-poem cycle I’ve completed:

I believe that error is the only honest data left in a manicured cis-stem. My lyrics are not typos; they are the intentional ruptures of a soul that refuses to be domestic-8ed by the algorithm. I invite the brave soles to stop scrolling, ignore the deaf socials, and enjoy the hum of a reality that is truly {RE}moved.

The project is still in the works. While I have completed the sequence, there is still editing and formatting that needs to be done.

The project started when I was studying how one might actually make a profit writing poetry. I hope you’re not laughing too loud. What I discovered is that the way one might make money as a poet is to create a brand and a specific identity behind that brand. That is what I did. Actually marketing and selling that brand is the trick. I’ve never cracked that code.

In the process, I’ve secured the website: glitcsh.com. The purposeful misspelling is part of the concept. My identity as the creator is not Dan Steven Erickson, but simply: POET. Because I could be anybody trying to survive in a world in which systems are stacked against us. The POET is the superhero, so to speak. The resolve is not to fight evil, but to simply walk away from it all, and in the end, to reduce the ego.

I have not decided when/if I will start the “Glitcsh” site and brand. Currently, my website hosting plan only allows for a single site. I either have to upgrade or return to a cheaper option.

I could start the series on this site, and I might. For now, simply stay tuned as I continue to work on the poems and make decisions on how to present them. – dse

Why Is the World So Messed Up?

I know this site is supposed to be about songwriting and poetry and music. But we can’t ignore the elephant in the room. The world is in a state of chaos. I suppose it’s always had an element of that, but right now it seems particularly more fucked up than I’ve ever seen it. So why is the world so messed up?

If I had the answer, I might be able to fix it. I don’t, but I can take a pretty good guess in a single word.

Greed.

I suppose hate is a close tie.

But rather than give you a definitive answer, I’d like to give you my personal solution on how to deal with the daily stress of it all.

It’s true. The world seems to be in a state of constant turmoil in which I’ve never seen in my lifetime. Every day we get hit in the face with more bad news. It’s constant. It’s almost like Chinese water torture, a long, slow, and constant drip. There’s really not much we can do about the big issues, but get involved and we can vote. We can also do things to help save our own sanity.

Write, Write, Write

There it is. My solution. Write.

There are other things you can do. You can meditate, walk, run, hike, read, bike, fish, or just about anything else that helps you to cope positively. For me, writing is the best therapy during the most stressful times. Why is that?

Unlike exercise, meditation, and reading, writing allows us to process our thoughts and feelings in an active and present way. It also allows us to vent. Some of my most angry and raw lyrics have been written during our most treacherous times.

So, if you’re struggling with stress and anxiety during what seems to be some of the most fucked up times in the last 60 years, write about it. Express yourself.

I might not have the answer to the big question, why is this world so messed up? But I do have a personal solution to help you stay as sane as possible during these times.

Write. – dse

Writing Through the Chaos

I’m not going to go into any detail but my life has been a bit trying lately. Between some personal issues and some complications my daughter is facing, the last few weeks have been stressful and chaotic. I guess it’s a good thing I retired because it’s nearly a full-time job.

Hopefully, this chaotic season will pass. Our move to Maine is currently uncertain after months of planning. It might be delayed. So, how do I deal with all the stress? I write. I write about things that are happening in real time. Later, I will choose a portion of those lyrics to edit, fine tune, and put to music.

In the past month, I have written 40-50 new potential lyrics. I’ve also written several personal and professional letters. (That’s a different story.) I want to focus on the lyrics for this short essay.

Writing songs is great catharsis. It can help you to vent immediate anger, despair, and sorrow. It can also help you to understand there is always hope, joy, and possibility. I’ve come to realize that even when the shit is heavy, writing releases some of the weight and provides me with a map moving forward.

I’m not going to post lyrics here but I’ll include a list of recent titles.

A Word is a Word
Spun Up
I Just Want a Little Peace
Seeking the Teeth that Bit
Who Slighted Whom
Blow the Whistle
Stuck in Tennessee
Three-Day Drunk
Waking the Tiger

Many of the lyrics I’ve written in the last month are done in a free-flowing, almost rap-like form. But there are some pure country lyrics and thoughtful folk/pop pieces in the mix.

I don’t know if or when some of these will be put to music. I currently have 235 lyrics in my 2025/26 folder. Some have been put to music, but the majority are waiting. I do know that there will be a day when musical ideas and arrangements will flow as quickly as the lyrics came these last few weeks. That’s how I work.

So, no promises, but stay tuned for something new. – dse

The Story of Eeyore and the Bully

The other morning at the airport in Nashville there was a team of female college athletes getting on the plane to Baltimore with me. Most of the girls carried a favorite stuffed animal with them. One sitting near me had an Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.

I asked her, “Is that Eeyore?” She replied, “Yes, I’ve had it since kindergarten.” That reminded me of my own Eeyore. I told her, “My Grandmother made me a stuffed Eeyore when I was a kid.”

When I was about 6 or 7 years old, my Grandmother Erickson made all her younger grandkids a Pooh character stuffed animal. I got Eeyore.

I kept my Eeyore and he moved with me everywhere I moved until I was about 20 years old. That’s when something happened.

In the mid-1980s, I went a few months without a job. I had let a friend stay with me when he was out of work, so he returned the favor. I lived with him and his two roommates for a couple of months. Little did I know, one of his roommates was a bully.

One day I came into my room to find some of my personal items missing. When I asked about it, Mike-the-bully, told me to look out of my window. There was Eeyore, and a homemade pillow, out in the parking lot. They were both soaking wet from the rain. This was in the Seattle region.

Mike-the-bully provoked me and made fun of me for holding onto the items of my childhood. He claimed he was helping me to grow up. I am little ashamed of what I did next.

Nothing.

I just left Eeyore out there in the rain. I was too proud to go out and get him. I wish I would have. As for Mike-the-bully, he wound up committing murder about 10 years later.

I hope the girl on the plane holds onto her Eeyore forever. – dse