J.P. Cunningham's Blog

Yesterday, I significantly dropped pricing for my first book, Somerset: a novel and also for my second which was/is The Emerald Amulet. The reason for this is to encourage more readers to discover these examples of fine fiction while doing it more affordably. Several significant authors and I have corresponded about my writing of these books and more during the past nine years. For a quarter-century, I worked in sales/marketing successfully after having worked on Capitol Hill in D.C. for four years.

Discover my two first novels.

J.P. Cunningham

A novel with a ���touch of magical realism��� Posted: Thursday, October 30, 201411:59 pm Lisa Crafton/For the Times-Georgian THEBOOK: ���The Emerald Amulet���THE AUTHOR: J.P. Cunningham
In ���The Emerald Amulet,��� a novel ofmystery in South America, Carroll County author J.P. Cunningham centers uponthe experiences of Eduardo, whose mother is a servant to a wealthy gemstonemine owner. Foregrounding the issues of class that factor heavily, the firstpages introduce the relationship between the rich white man���s son and theColombian son of the family maid. Childhood playmates Eduardo (a mestizo withboth Colombian and English blood) and Sean (���a blonde and blue-eyed,pale-skinned boy���) bridge a significant cultural divide. The novel relies on afamiliar literary trope of adolescent bonding, a journey to a forbidden site.The trajectory of the plot follows Eduardo into adulthood, but the boyhoodexperience in the cave remains most formative.Cunningham says of the genesis ofthe central image of the cave: ���Taking off on an overnight flight to SouthAmerica years ago, I finished my reading of Steinbeck���s ���The Pearl,��� realizingwhat a beautiful job he���d done with that brief novel conveying a profoundmessage in simple language. During that flight, I developed an image in my mindof a cave in dense forest in South America, and a boy or young man. That imagenever left me until I sat down and began a novel with a touch of magicalrealism: ���The Emerald Amulet.������More than a touch, I���d say.Reminiscent of the work of Isabel Allende, this novel���s magical elements (whichdo originate in a cave, to be sure) permeate the broader thematics of thenarrative ��� the power of dreams, the meaning of miracles, the intersection offaith and doubt all within a powerful exploration of the complex nature ofidentity.The opening chapter offers anotherworldly, quite multivalent scene that firmly identifies the novel���s genreof magic realism. Coming upon a witch figure, ���white-haired and shriveled,���complete with a bubbling cauldron and a wildcat in a cage, the boys find thatthis ���reality��� far exceeds the boyish, imagined dangers they concocted along thepath to the cave. The fairy tale elements of the old woman and the gift of thetitular emerald amulet challenge the boys (and the reader) to make sense ofthis dream world, to confront assumptions about miracles, dreams, and reality.The scene, importantly, though, serves the larger thematic narrative paradigmas well. When the old woman says that the amulet has had power to protect theowner for centuries, and tells the boys, ���It is yours,��� Eduardo understandablyresponds, ���For which of us? We are two separate boys, not one,��� thusunderscoring the issue of identity that structures the narrative���s trajectory.The South American setting,particularly Edwin O���Connor���s mines where precious gems emerge from theColombian mountains, serves as more than a backdrop to the action. In the boys���first expedition, for example, the path the boys follow to the abandoned mineis covered with dense canopy, but the narrator says of the undergrowth, ���toothick to penetrate in ages past, [it] had long since been cleared away,��� anuanced reference to the ways in which the past haunts the present of the livesof the characters, despite their avoidance of it, and in a larger context, theways in which the history of South America requires a confrontation between thepowers of the conquerors and the indigenous Motilone natives, in sum, the���unjust control over lives that wealth and power wield[s] in the world.��� Aftera tragic accident involving the white boy, Eduardo becomes torn between thepropositions of his wealthy patron and his mother. Offering divergent choicesof lifestyle, one, a life at university which Eduardo has dreamed of, and theother, an apprenticeship with an expert gem cutter that Eduardo���s mother wantsfor him, these different paths become the heart of the narrative as Eduardoweighs the advantages of both and, significantly, evaluates the meaning of���wealth��� and ���value.���Will he follow in the footsteps ofhis white patron, taking over the business of mining and selling gems, orcultivate the craft of working the gemstones while living a local life close tothe only family he has? And how will he be influenced by the tribal legends ofthe devil in the mine and the powerful magic he has gained from his gift?Within this complexity, Cunningham interrogates the very nature of what itmeans to dream and the raw potential of imagining a better, a different, lifefor oneself than the one traditional culture may offer. Further, it allows foran exploration of what happens when one���s rational understanding of the world, oreven one���s orthodox religious beliefs, are challenged by mysteries that cannotbe explained.Alongside these cosmic mysteries arethe little mysteries of real life that stem from hard work and caring and love.When confronted with financial setbacks, for example, it is Eduardo���s goodreputation as a student that prompts the college administration���s assistance.And, the master gem cutter Alberto���s ���lesson��� to Eduardo about emerald cuttingfunctions as a disquisition about human life and values: ���There are four ���C���s���to consider when thinking about emeralds: color, clarity, cut, and carat ...people in the city and even farther away think mainly of the carat or theweight of the stone. They think that is what determines the value of the gem.... At least as important is the natural character of the stone.��� Thedefinition of success is further debated as the gem cutter���s niece, who becomesEduardo���s wife, says about the white patron Edwin: ���You said he���s verysuccessful. And yet he lives alone, for decades with no wife, no children. Howis he successful?���Structuring the narrative are threegifts and three trips to the cave. The boys receive the magical emerald amulet,Eduardo accepts a gold pocket watch from his patron, and his mother gives him amoney clip with an inset emerald that belonged to his father (which keys thereader in on the mystery of the boy���s identity in the story���s plot twist ofpaternity). All of the gifts function as emblems of different life choices, asdo the trips to the cave. While the boys visit the cave twice, most interestingthematically is the scene in which the grown Eduardo returns to the cave andasks the old woman, ���Who are you?��� Clearly highlighting the necessity ofunraveling the layers of identity, she responds, ���The better question would bewho are you?���Ultimately, the magic of the amuletis less important than its lesson of the complexity of moral choices, ���[theamulet���s] potential for good��� and ���the impossible choices required in the useof it.��� At the end Eduardo asserts, ���I only know that it���s real. I don���t haveto understand it.��� Cunningham���s novel then offers the reader a well-plottedtale of mystery and identity set within a rich cultural context that,nevertheless, compels us to consider our own sense of miracles, faith andcharacter.
Crafton is a professor of English atthe University of West Georgia.

A novel with a ‘touch of magical realism’ Posted: Thursday, October 30, 201411:59 pm Lisa Crafton/For the Times-Georgian THEBOOK: “The Emerald Amulet”THE AUTHOR: J.P. Cunningham
In “The Emerald Amulet,” a novel ofmystery in South America, Carroll County author J.P. Cunningham centers uponthe experiences of Eduardo, whose mother is a servant to a wealthy gemstonemine owner. Foregrounding the issues of class that factor heavily, the firstpages introduce the relationship between the rich white man’s son and theColombian son of the family maid. Childhood playmates Eduardo (a mestizo withboth Colombian and English blood) and Sean (“a blonde and blue-eyed,pale-skinned boy”) bridge a significant cultural divide. The novel relies on afamiliar literary trope of adolescent bonding, a journey to a forbidden site.The trajectory of the plot follows Eduardo into adulthood, but the boyhoodexperience in the cave remains most formative.Cunningham says of the genesis ofthe central image of the cave: “Taking off on an overnight flight to SouthAmerica years ago, I finished my reading of Steinbeck’s ‘The Pearl,’ realizingwhat a beautiful job he’d done with that brief novel conveying a profoundmessage in simple language. During that flight, I developed an image in my mindof a cave in dense forest in South America, and a boy or young man. That imagenever left me until I sat down and began a novel with a touch of magicalrealism: ‘The Emerald Amulet.’”More than a touch, I’d say.Reminiscent of the work of Isabel Allende, this novel’s magical elements (whichdo originate in a cave, to be sure) permeate the broader thematics of thenarrative — the power of dreams, the meaning of miracles, the intersection offaith and doubt all within a powerful exploration of the complex nature ofidentity.The opening chapter offers anotherworldly, quite multivalent scene that firmly identifies the novel’s genreof magic realism. Coming upon a witch figure, “white-haired and shriveled,”complete with a bubbling cauldron and a wildcat in a cage, the boys find thatthis “reality” far exceeds the boyish, imagined dangers they concocted along thepath to the cave. The fairy tale elements of the old woman and the gift of thetitular emerald amulet challenge the boys (and the reader) to make sense ofthis dream world, to confront assumptions about miracles, dreams, and reality.The scene, importantly, though, serves the larger thematic narrative paradigmas well. When the old woman says that the amulet has had power to protect theowner for centuries, and tells the boys, “It is yours,” Eduardo understandablyresponds, “For which of us? We are two separate boys, not one,” thusunderscoring the issue of identity that structures the narrative’s trajectory.The South American setting,particularly Edwin O’Connor’s mines where precious gems emerge from theColombian mountains, serves as more than a backdrop to the action. In the boys’first expedition, for example, the path the boys follow to the abandoned mineis covered with dense canopy, but the narrator says of the undergrowth, “toothick to penetrate in ages past, [it] had long since been cleared away,” anuanced reference to the ways in which the past haunts the present of the livesof the characters, despite their avoidance of it, and in a larger context, theways in which the history of South America requires a confrontation between thepowers of the conquerors and the indigenous Motilone natives, in sum, the“unjust control over lives that wealth and power wield[s] in the world.” Aftera tragic accident involving the white boy, Eduardo becomes torn between thepropositions of his wealthy patron and his mother. Offering divergent choicesof lifestyle, one, a life at university which Eduardo has dreamed of, and theother, an apprenticeship with an expert gem cutter that Eduardo’s mother wantsfor him, these different paths become the heart of the narrative as Eduardoweighs the advantages of both and, significantly, evaluates the meaning of“wealth” and “value.”Will he follow in the footsteps ofhis white patron, taking over the business of mining and selling gems, orcultivate the craft of working the gemstones while living a local life close tothe only family he has? And how will he be influenced by the tribal legends ofthe devil in the mine and the powerful magic he has gained from his gift?Within this complexity, Cunningham interrogates the very nature of what itmeans to dream and the raw potential of imagining a better, a different, lifefor oneself than the one traditional culture may offer. Further, it allows foran exploration of what happens when one’s rational understanding of the world, oreven one’s orthodox religious beliefs, are challenged by mysteries that cannotbe explained.Alongside these cosmic mysteries arethe little mysteries of real life that stem from hard work and caring and love.When confronted with financial setbacks, for example, it is Eduardo’s goodreputation as a student that prompts the college administration’s assistance.And, the master gem cutter Alberto’s “lesson” to Eduardo about emerald cuttingfunctions as a disquisition about human life and values: “There are four ‘C’s’to consider when thinking about emeralds: color, clarity, cut, and carat ...people in the city and even farther away think mainly of the carat or theweight of the stone. They think that is what determines the value of the gem.... At least as important is the natural character of the stone.” Thedefinition of success is further debated as the gem cutter’s niece, who becomesEduardo’s wife, says about the white patron Edwin: “You said he’s verysuccessful. And yet he lives alone, for decades with no wife, no children. Howis he successful?”Structuring the narrative are threegifts and three trips to the cave. The boys receive the magical emerald amulet,Eduardo accepts a gold pocket watch from his patron, and his mother gives him amoney clip with an inset emerald that belonged to his father (which keys thereader in on the mystery of the boy’s identity in the story’s plot twist ofpaternity). All of the gifts function as emblems of different life choices, asdo the trips to the cave. While the boys visit the cave twice, most interestingthematically is the scene in which the grown Eduardo returns to the cave andasks the old woman, “Who are you?” Clearly highlighting the necessity ofunraveling the layers of identity, she responds, “The better question would bewho are you?”Ultimately, the magic of the amuletis less important than its lesson of the complexity of moral choices, “[theamulet’s] potential for good” and “the impossible choices required in the useof it.” At the end Eduardo asserts, “I only know that it’s real. I don’t haveto understand it.” Cunningham’s novel then offers the reader a well-plottedtale of mystery and identity set within a rich cultural context that,nevertheless, compels us to consider our own sense of miracles, faith andcharacter.
Crafton is a professor of English atthe University of West Georgia.

A novel with a ���touch of magical realism��� Posted: Thursday, October 30, 2014 11:59 pm Lisa Crafton/For the Times-Georgian THE BOOK: ���The Emerald Amulet���THE AUTHOR: J.P. Cunningham
In ���The Emerald Amulet,��� a novel of mystery in South America, Carroll County author J.P. Cunningham centers upon the experiences of Eduardo, whose mother is a servant to a wealthy gemstone mine owner. Foregrounding the issues of class that factor heavily, the first pages introduce the relationship between the rich white man���s son and the Colombian son of the family maid. Childhood playmates Eduardo (a mestizo with both Colombian and English blood) and Sean (���a blonde and blue-eyed, pale-skinned boy���) bridge a significant cultural divide. The novel relies on a familiar literary trope of adolescent bonding, a journey to a forbidden site. The trajectory of the plot follows Eduardo into adulthood, but the boyhood experience in the cave remains most formative.Cunningham says of the genesis of the central image of the cave: ���Taking off on an overnight flight to South America years ago, I finished my reading of Steinbeck���s ���The Pearl,��� realizing what a beautiful job he���d done with that brief novel conveying a profound message in simple language. During that flight, I developed an image in my mind of a cave in dense forest in South America, and a boy or young man. That image never left me until I sat down and began a novel with a touch of magical realism: ���The Emerald Amulet.������More than a touch, I���d say. Reminiscent of the work of Isabel Allende, this novel���s magical elements (which do originate in a cave, to be sure) permeate the broader thematics of the narrative ��� the power of dreams, the meaning of miracles, the intersection of faith and doubt all within a powerful exploration of the complex nature of identity.The opening chapter offers an otherworldly, quite multivalent scene that firmly identifies the novel���s genre of magic realism. Coming upon a witch figure, ���white-haired and shriveled,��� complete with a bubbling cauldron and a wildcat in a cage, the boys find that this ���reality��� far exceeds the boyish, imagined dangers they concocted along the path to the cave. The fairy tale elements of the old woman and the gift of the titular emerald amulet challenge the boys (and the reader) to make sense of this dream world, to confront assumptions about miracles, dreams, and reality. The scene, importantly, though, serves the larger thematic narrative paradigm as well. When the old woman says that the amulet has had power to protect the owner for centuries, and tells the boys, ���It is yours,��� Eduardo understandably responds, ���For which of us? We are two separate boys, not one,��� thus underscoring the issue of identity that structures the narrative���s trajectory.The South American setting, particularly Edwin O���Connor���s mines where precious gems emerge from the Colombian mountains, serves as more than a backdrop to the action. In the boys��� first expedition, for example, the path the boys follow to the abandoned mine is covered with dense canopy, but the narrator says of the undergrowth, ���too thick to penetrate in ages past, [it] had long since been cleared away,��� a nuanced reference to the ways in which the past haunts the present of the lives of the characters, despite their avoidance of it, and in a larger context, the ways in which the history of South America requires a confrontation between the powers of the conquerors and the indigenous Motilone natives, in sum, the ���unjust control over lives that wealth and power wield[s] in the world.��� After a tragic accident involving the white boy, Eduardo becomes torn between the propositions of his wealthy patron and his mother. Offering divergent choices of lifestyle, one, a life at university which Eduardo has dreamed of, and the other, an apprenticeship with an expert gem cutter that Eduardo���s mother wants for him, these different paths become the heart of the narrative as Eduardo weighs the advantages of both and, significantly, evaluates the meaning of ���wealth��� and ���value.���Will he follow in the footsteps of his white patron, taking over the business of mining and selling gems, or cultivate the craft of working the gemstones while living a local life close to the only family he has? And how will he be influenced by the tribal legends of the devil in the mine and the powerful magic he has gained from his gift? Within this complexity, Cunningham interrogates the very nature of what it means to dream and the raw potential of imagining a better, a different, life for oneself than the one traditional culture may offer. Further, it allows for an exploration of what happens when one���s rational understanding of the world, or even one���s orthodox religious beliefs, are challenged by mysteries that cannot be explained.Alongside these cosmic mysteries are the little mysteries of real life that stem from hard work and caring and love. When confronted with financial setbacks, for example, it is Eduardo���s good reputation as a student that prompts the college administration���s assistance. And, the master gem cutter Alberto���s ���lesson��� to Eduardo about emerald cutting functions as a disquisition about human life and values: ���There are four ���C���s��� to consider when thinking about emeralds: color, clarity, cut, and carat ... people in the city and even farther away think mainly of the carat or the weight of the stone. They think that is what determines the value of the gem. ... At least as important is the natural character of the stone.��� The definition of success is further debated as the gem cutter���s niece, who becomes Eduardo���s wife, says about the white patron Edwin: ���You said he���s very successful. And yet he lives alone, for decades with no wife, no children. How is he successful?���Structuring the narrative are three gifts and three trips to the cave. The boys receive the magical emerald amulet, Eduardo accepts a gold pocket watch from his patron, and his mother gives him a money clip with an inset emerald that belonged to his father (which keys the reader in on the mystery of the boy���s identity in the story���s plot twist of paternity). All of the gifts function as emblems of different life choices, as do the trips to the cave. While the boys visit the cave twice, most interesting thematically is the scene in which the grown Eduardo returns to the cave and asks the old woman, ���Who are you?��� Clearly highlighting the necessity of unraveling the layers of identity, she responds, ���The better question would be who are you?���Ultimately, the magic of the amulet is less important than its lesson of the complexity of moral choices, ���[the amulet���s] potential for good��� and ���the impossible choices required in the use of it.��� At the end Eduardo asserts, ���I only know that it���s real. I don���t have to understand it.��� Cunningham���s novel then offers the reader a well-plotted tale of mystery and identity set within a rich cultural context that, nevertheless, compels us to consider our own sense of miracles, faith and character.
Crafton is a professor of English at the University of West Georgia.

A novel with a ‘touch of magical realism’ Posted: Thursday, October 30, 2014 11:59 pm Lisa Crafton/For the Times-Georgian THE BOOK: “The Emerald Amulet”THE AUTHOR: J.P. Cunningham
In “The Emerald Amulet,” a novel of mystery in South America, Carroll County author J.P. Cunningham centers upon the experiences of Eduardo, whose mother is a servant to a wealthy gemstone mine owner. Foregrounding the issues of class that factor heavily, the first pages introduce the relationship between the rich white man’s son and the Colombian son of the family maid. Childhood playmates Eduardo (a mestizo with both Colombian and English blood) and Sean (“a blonde and blue-eyed, pale-skinned boy”) bridge a significant cultural divide. The novel relies on a familiar literary trope of adolescent bonding, a journey to a forbidden site. The trajectory of the plot follows Eduardo into adulthood, but the boyhood experience in the cave remains most formative.Cunningham says of the genesis of the central image of the cave: “Taking off on an overnight flight to South America years ago, I finished my reading of Steinbeck’s ‘The Pearl,’ realizing what a beautiful job he’d done with that brief novel conveying a profound message in simple language. During that flight, I developed an image in my mind of a cave in dense forest in South America, and a boy or young man. That image never left me until I sat down and began a novel with a touch of magical realism: ‘The Emerald Amulet.’”More than a touch, I’d say. Reminiscent of the work of Isabel Allende, this novel’s magical elements (which do originate in a cave, to be sure) permeate the broader thematics of the narrative — the power of dreams, the meaning of miracles, the intersection of faith and doubt all within a powerful exploration of the complex nature of identity.The opening chapter offers an otherworldly, quite multivalent scene that firmly identifies the novel’s genre of magic realism. Coming upon a witch figure, “white-haired and shriveled,” complete with a bubbling cauldron and a wildcat in a cage, the boys find that this “reality” far exceeds the boyish, imagined dangers they concocted along the path to the cave. The fairy tale elements of the old woman and the gift of the titular emerald amulet challenge the boys (and the reader) to make sense of this dream world, to confront assumptions about miracles, dreams, and reality. The scene, importantly, though, serves the larger thematic narrative paradigm as well. When the old woman says that the amulet has had power to protect the owner for centuries, and tells the boys, “It is yours,” Eduardo understandably responds, “For which of us? We are two separate boys, not one,” thus underscoring the issue of identity that structures the narrative’s trajectory.The South American setting, particularly Edwin O’Connor’s mines where precious gems emerge from the Colombian mountains, serves as more than a backdrop to the action. In the boys’ first expedition, for example, the path the boys follow to the abandoned mine is covered with dense canopy, but the narrator says of the undergrowth, “too thick to penetrate in ages past, [it] had long since been cleared away,” a nuanced reference to the ways in which the past haunts the present of the lives of the characters, despite their avoidance of it, and in a larger context, the ways in which the history of South America requires a confrontation between the powers of the conquerors and the indigenous Motilone natives, in sum, the “unjust control over lives that wealth and power wield[s] in the world.” After a tragic accident involving the white boy, Eduardo becomes torn between the propositions of his wealthy patron and his mother. Offering divergent choices of lifestyle, one, a life at university which Eduardo has dreamed of, and the other, an apprenticeship with an expert gem cutter that Eduardo’s mother wants for him, these different paths become the heart of the narrative as Eduardo weighs the advantages of both and, significantly, evaluates the meaning of “wealth” and “value.”Will he follow in the footsteps of his white patron, taking over the business of mining and selling gems, or cultivate the craft of working the gemstones while living a local life close to the only family he has? And how will he be influenced by the tribal legends of the devil in the mine and the powerful magic he has gained from his gift? Within this complexity, Cunningham interrogates the very nature of what it means to dream and the raw potential of imagining a better, a different, life for oneself than the one traditional culture may offer. Further, it allows for an exploration of what happens when one’s rational understanding of the world, or even one’s orthodox religious beliefs, are challenged by mysteries that cannot be explained.Alongside these cosmic mysteries are the little mysteries of real life that stem from hard work and caring and love. When confronted with financial setbacks, for example, it is Eduardo’s good reputation as a student that prompts the college administration’s assistance. And, the master gem cutter Alberto’s “lesson” to Eduardo about emerald cutting functions as a disquisition about human life and values: “There are four ‘C’s’ to consider when thinking about emeralds: color, clarity, cut, and carat ... people in the city and even farther away think mainly of the carat or the weight of the stone. They think that is what determines the value of the gem. ... At least as important is the natural character of the stone.” The definition of success is further debated as the gem cutter’s niece, who becomes Eduardo’s wife, says about the white patron Edwin: “You said he’s very successful. And yet he lives alone, for decades with no wife, no children. How is he successful?”Structuring the narrative are three gifts and three trips to the cave. The boys receive the magical emerald amulet, Eduardo accepts a gold pocket watch from his patron, and his mother gives him a money clip with an inset emerald that belonged to his father (which keys the reader in on the mystery of the boy’s identity in the story’s plot twist of paternity). All of the gifts function as emblems of different life choices, as do the trips to the cave. While the boys visit the cave twice, most interesting thematically is the scene in which the grown Eduardo returns to the cave and asks the old woman, “Who are you?” Clearly highlighting the necessity of unraveling the layers of identity, she responds, “The better question would be who are you?”Ultimately, the magic of the amulet is less important than its lesson of the complexity of moral choices, “[the amulet’s] potential for good” and “the impossible choices required in the use of it.” At the end Eduardo asserts, “I only know that it’s real. I don’t have to understand it.” Cunningham’s novel then offers the reader a well-plotted tale of mystery and identity set within a rich cultural context that, nevertheless, compels us to consider our own sense of miracles, faith and character.
Crafton is a professor of English at the University of West Georgia.

Memo from the unemployment line: Write oftenBy J.P. Cunningham 11:16 a.m. Monday, August 10, 2009 In a year and a week, I wrote four books. Books of fiction, you see; notheavy-laden with facts and most assuredly not great literature. Just fiction,plain and simple, as best I could write it — given limitations more of talentthan of time — during an extended period of job search often dismally referredto in the trade as unemployment.
In mid-February of 2008, an Ohio-based manufacturer eliminated my professionalposition (and me as well) from its payroll. Fifty-three weeks later, I had (inaddition to searching “full-time” each and every day for a roughly comparablejob) completed a full-length novel, a novella, a second full-length novel and acollection of 10 short stories.
With absolutely no reason to assume that anything I had written would beworthy of note, I dutifully sent off, nonetheless, each and every manuscript(or at least parts thereof) to prospective literary agents, pleading forrepresentation, knowing full well that no self-respecting agent would lower hisor her standards enough seriously to consider an unsolicited, unreferredmanuscript from an unpublished author. Nevertheless, I persisted, and lovedevery minute of it.
The point? Well, you see, the point would be that there are currentlyseveral million of us unemployed, some “better educated” and then some lesscredentialed than others. Bogged down in the muck and mire of unemployment, itwould be easy to lose a sense of balance, of proportion and even in extremecases to lose a sense of self: a clear self-image of who you are and of whatdefines you.
And so I wrote, for that year and a week. And so I write. It’s my way ofproductively filling in time left over after hours each day of serious jobsearch. Those individuals less verbally inclined than I could just as easilyfind some other way to express who they are, if only to themselves: potterymaking; photography; coaching a children’s ball team; mentoring a student — thepossibilities are endless.
It is at times like these when we have the opportunity to remember (or sadlyenough perhaps to learn for the first time) that we are not defined as personsby what we do for a living. We are instead more defined as persons by what wedo with our spare time, whether employed or not.
When someone asks me how I’m doing, I answer brashly: “I’m doin’ a hunnerd,a hunnerd percent, couldn’t possibly be any better.” Too Pollyanish? Not atall, especially if you actually mean it. By saying it often enough, I learnedto believe it myself.
Of course, there are more mundane bits of advice I could give related to thejob search itself, such as having a rigid schedule each and every day ofsearching; of setting a fixed quota each day of a specific number of decision-makersto contact; to follow up after each contact; informing everyone you know; and,most importantly, to persist for as long as it takes, keeping in mind that thepoint is to pursue jobs you would truly like to have once you succeed.
A person, though, can only take so much of that each day. That leaves hoursof opportunity for languishing in bleak and/or dismal desperation, or for moreproductive work — for work aimed at expressing, if only to yourself, who youare or more importantly who you are about to become.
A life without writing now, after that year and a week? Not likely tohappen, not for me. Wouldn’t have missed it for anything and I have nointention of laying it casually aside. If someone were to take it away from me,I’d feel like Conrad’s Mr. Kurtz uttering at the end, ”the horror, the horror.”But I simply will not allow that to happen.
I will, possibly later than sooner, find gainful employment, which may ormay not have anything to do with who I am. But the one thing I’ve taught myselfis that if I keep reminding myself who I am and then remain true to that, I’llstill be “doin’ a hunnerd” long after this dismal recession has become nothingmore than a distant memory.
And for any one of the millions similarly stranded, that person should findhis or her own way to enjoy life each day in a way that can be cared about. Dothat and you’ll also be doin’ a hundred percent, just as I am.
J.P. Cunningham lives in Carrollton, GA

Find this article at: http://www.ajc.com/opinion/memo-from-the-unemployment-112182.html

Memo from the unemployment line: Write oftenBy J.P. Cunningham 11:16 a.m. Monday, August 10, 2009 In a year and a week, I wrote four books. Books of fiction, you see; not heavy-laden with facts and most assuredly not great literature. Just fiction, plain and simple, as best I could write it — given limitations more of talent than of time — during an extended period of job search often dismally referred to in the trade as unemployment.
In mid-February of 2008, an Ohio-based manufacturer eliminated my professional position (and me as well) from its payroll. Fifty-three weeks later, I had (in addition to searching “full-time” each and every day for a roughly comparable job) completed a full-length novel, a novella, a second full-length novel and a collection of 10 short stories.
With absolutely no reason to assume that anything I had written would be worthy of note, I dutifully sent off, nonetheless, each and every manuscript (or at least parts thereof) to prospective literary agents, pleading for representation, knowing full well that no self-respecting agent would lower his or her standards enough seriously to consider an unsolicited, unreferred manuscript from an unpublished author. Nevertheless, I persisted, and loved every minute of it.
The point? Well, you see, the point would be that there are currently several million of us unemployed, some “better educated” and then some less credentialed than others. Bogged down in the muck and mire of unemployment, it would be easy to lose a sense of balance, of proportion and even in extreme cases to lose a sense of self: a clear self-image of who you are and of what defines you.
And so I wrote, for that year and a week. And so I write. It’s my way of productively filling in time left over after hours each day of serious job search. Those individuals less verbally inclined than I could just as easily find some other way to express who they are, if only to themselves: pottery making; photography; coaching a children’s ball team; mentoring a student — the possibilities are endless.
It is at times like these when we have the opportunity to remember (or sadly enough perhaps to learn for the first time) that we are not defined as persons by what we do for a living. We are instead more defined as persons by what we do with our spare time, whether employed or not.
When someone asks me how I’m doing, I answer brashly: “I’m doin’ a hunnerd, a hunnerd percent, couldn’t possibly be any better.” Too Pollyanish? Not at all, especially if you actually mean it. By saying it often enough, I learned to believe it myself.
Of course, there are more mundane bits of advice I could give related to the job search itself, such as having a rigid schedule each and every day of searching; of setting a fixed quota each day of a specific number of decision-makers to contact; to follow up after each contact; informing everyone you know; and, most importantly, to persist for as long as it takes, keeping in mind that the point is to pursue jobs you would truly like to have once you succeed.
A person, though, can only take so much of that each day. That leaves hours of opportunity for languishing in bleak and/or dismal desperation, or for more productive work — for work aimed at expressing, if only to yourself, who you are or more importantly who you are about to become.
A life without writing now, after that year and a week? Not likely to happen, not for me. Wouldn’t have missed it for anything and I have no intention of laying it casually aside. If someone were to take it away from me, I’d feel like Conrad’s Mr. Kurtz uttering at the end, ”the horror, the horror.” But I simply will not allow that to happen.
I will, possibly later than sooner, find gainful employment, which may or may not have anything to do with who I am. But the one thing I’ve taught myself is that if I keep reminding myself who I am and then remain true to that, I’ll still be “doin’ a hunnerd” long after this dismal recession has become nothing more than a distant memory.
And for any one of the millions similarly stranded, that person should find his or her own way to enjoy life each day in a way that can be cared about. Do that and you’ll also be doin’ a hundred percent, just as I am.
J.P. Cunningham lives in Carrollton, GA

Find this article at: http://www.ajc.com/opinion/memo-from-the-unemployment-112182.html

"There are only two worthwhile things to leave behind when you depart this world of ours - children and art." Stephen Sondheim.  "Sunday in the Park with George"  Pulitzer Prize-winner

Hemos perdido tanto con la muerte del famoso Gabo. Le deberíamos haber llamado "Gabo el Mago"; Gabriel García Marquez, escritor estupendo.   @jpcauthor

Both my first novel Somerset and my second The Emerald Amulet are now available at a good book store called Underground Books, in Carrollton, Georgia.  This small shop specializes in older books, collectors' books, and finer literature in general.

A copy signed by me can be obtained at Underground Books.

J.P. Cunningham