I have been writing stories since I was eight years old. I have the hard copies to prove it. For the next twenty years after that, I was writing a lot of fiction. It was a mix, really, though mostly mainstream and science fiction or somewhere in between. Once I started writing to pay my bills, my fiction productivity dropped off tremendously. More to the point, I began to lose interest in storytelling at all. The reasons for that are a bit complicated, but I’ll give it a shot here. Continue reading “Relearning an Old Skill”
Category: Personal
The Mid-Life Writer’s Crisis
I’ve chosen to drop my shields for a moment and show you my gooey center to give you some insight into why I don’t publish my fiction. My apologies if I’m oversharing–I usually don’t open up like this until something like the 17th date. Continue reading “The Mid-Life Writer’s Crisis”
The Tools You Use
I pursued my first English degree with the intention of being a science fiction writer. I wrote a lot more in my teens and twenties and my stories were filled with the concerns of a young man: pursuing adventures, making a difference, falling in love. The Bart who wrote then is a very different person from the person who writes blogs and training documents and journalism pieces now. Aside from my additional 20 years of life experience, the tools I use to write have changed as well. Continue reading “The Tools You Use”
What Good Am I?
Edith Keeler: Did you do something wrong? Are you in trouble? Whatever it is, let me help.
Captain Kirk: “Let me help.” A hundred years or so from now, I believe, a famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He’ll recommend those three words even over “I love you.”
–Star Trek, “The City on the Edge of Forever”
I don’t invent machinery, I help explain and market it. I rarely speak at conferences, but I have volunteered to work at or run them. I am neither a scientist nor a cheerleader, yet I help keep a bunch of them communicating and organized. I don’t write original ideas in paper or book form, yet I contribute editorial and narrative support to others. I do not formulate bold new space policies, but I do help polish the language and try to share them with others. I do not build, I assemble. I cannot program a computer, but I am a quick study as a super-user. I am rarely a leader, but I make a good second or third in command.
I am not handsome or dramatic enough to be a star, but I’d make a decent character actor. I might not form some amazing partnership–personal or professional–but I am likely to introduce people who do. I don’t come up with new philosophies or remarkable spiritual insights, but I will take them into my soul and integrate them into my life so others can see the results. I’m unlikely to be in a parade and much more likely to be one of the people cheering from the side. I don’t write great books, I read and review them.
Why am I sharing this? I suppose because I sometimes doubt the value I contribute. And maybe because as I get older I’m getting more realistic about what I am likely to accomplish (or not accomplish) in life. There’s a lot of emphasis in our culture on being the star or the originator of great things. There isn’t much glory attached to being just a member of a team. Yet my motto for years has been “I’m here to help,” and I try to prove that with every opportunity I can. There are those who originate and those who must deliver. Somewhere along the line, I learned the value of helping make dreams into reality even if it isn’t my dream. Maybe I’m content to let my life be this way, with the trust and hope that what I’ve done has been worthwhile. At the end of the line, I’ll hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” and that will be enough.
The Abundance Mentality and Helping Others
My professional blog, Heroic Technical Writing, is a public education service. My goal was and is to honestly help people seeking advice about the business of technical writing. I’m not interested in putting up a pay wall, though I might write a book at some point. That’s about as far as my selfishness goes here.
Most of the time, I write blogs for a generalized technical writing community of students and professionals who check out my writing from all over the world. Every month or two, a reader contacts me directly asking for specific advice about their particular situation. What’s amusing to me is that a lot of the people who contact me directly all have the same intention: they want my job!
I understand that passion–I had it for years and it took me nearly 25 years to finally achieve it, so I appreciate that people think I have some magic formula for helping them reach the same destination.
Irony
There are a couple of ironic twists to the advice I release out into the world like a kid blowing soap bubbles in the park. The first amusing part is that I no longer earn my living as a space writer, and haven’t since I was downsized out of my full-time job (through no fault of mine or my employer’s, I hasten to add) in 2013. I do some space work, but that’s not my primary source of income. The other thing that amuses me is that as I offer advice or even suggest points of contact, it occurs to me that I am creating a cadre of potential competitors for future work.
I still offer the help. Part of it is because I genuinely want to help. Also, I suppose I’m confident enough in my abilities that I feel I could get specific work if I pursued it (I’m on a contract right now, so there hasn’t been a big rush). And the last reason why I keep helping is that I’m trying to develop what some folks call an “abundance mentality,” as opposed to a scarcity mentality.
Scarcity vs. abundance
A person with a scarcity mentality sees the world as a zero-sum game: if I get a job, someone else will not get it. Or they think, as I suggested above, that helping others get a job in my field creates my pool of competitors and reduces my chances. There are, in fact, only so many full-time “space writers” out there–and I know or have met many of the best in the business. Surely I can’t afford to flood the market with proteges who might take the food out of my rice bowl! The scarcity mindset says, “I need to protect what’s mine!”
That’s one perspective. The abundance mindset, however, says that people can create their own jobs and careers. People thinking this way believe that the economic pie can and will continue to expand and that people can create their own special niches as the professional ecosystem diversifies and grows. The abundance mindset says, “There will always be more opportunity!”
And space is an expanding field (no pun intended). It isn’t just NASA or the Defense Department anymore. There is now a small but steadily growing entrepreneurial sector with companies starting to compete not just for launch vehicles but also satellites, space stations, asteroid-mining equipment, and other types of hardware. The sooner those private-sector companies reach and expand their respective customer bases, the sooner we’ll see additional start-ups to support the markets that the primary space companies create. And as the space market expands, there will also be more opportunities for government to settle in along the edges, should you wish to work in the civil service.
Thinking differently about your path
The point being, to be a writer in the space industry, you don’t have to be working directly for NASA or one of its contractors, though that’s still a good option when the jobs are available. Likewise, if you’re not a space enthusiast but care deeply about animals, hunger, or nuclear power, there are alternative ways to support those causes that don’t require you to be right on the front lines. I also know people whose actual job descriptions are nowhere close to scientist or engineer, but because they work at NASA, they take immense pride in “doing their part” for the space program.
No one needs to follow the exact path I did to get a job as a space writer–in fact, I highly recommend that you don’t: chose an easier route! However, there are many ways to serve a cause that you believe in, and having an abundance mentality allows you to be open to multiple possibilities and multiple ways of reaching your preferred destination. And you might find something along the way toward your goal that you like even better.
So if you are a seeker of advice, fear not: I will continue to give whatever wisdom I can offer. If you manage to get the same type of job I have, fantastic! Space is a difficult business and it could use all the good communicators it can find. Just remember to say thank you if I helped and to pay it forward if you get to a point where you’re able to help others. Think abundantly!
47
By the time you read this, I will be on vacation, not home. I decided to get out of town, even if it’s still in Florida. Still, I try to do one of these birthday essays once a year just as a way of checking in with myself and with you, my readers (I appreciate both of you) to see where I am with respect to myself or the world.
I’m coming more and more to know the sort of person I am and the sort of person I am not, and I’m willing to accept both. I am very much an introvert, for example. I can go hours or even days at a time without engaging in much verbal conversation. Much of the time my apartment is even quiet as I start my day: no radio, no TV, just me, the sounds of my daily routine, and whatever foolishness is buzzing about in my head. This does not mean I dislike people, merely that I don’t seem to require the presence of another person in my domicile. In fact, I’m usually more relaxed if I don’t have company. My habits are those of someone who requires a “Fortress of Solitude,” and is increasingly aware that such a lifestyle is likely to keep people at a distance. So be it.
I am still not an athlete, nor do I desire to be. Those of you who feel the urge to climb a mountain or run a marathon–God bless. You can take my turn. I won’t stop you, but don’t feel you have to invite me to your quest. My favorite physical activity is walking through aesthetically pleasing landscapes, interesting architecture, or preferably both. I can walk anywhere from one mile to ten at a stretch and do not notice or mind the passing of time. It’s hard to say what I’m thinking about on these walks. Often I’m not thinking at all, but merely using the exercise as a way to clear my mind and the scenery as a way to relax it. A long stroll through a museum would probably do me just as well.
I’m a very serious person, despite my verbal habits of wit and sarcasm. My reading list consists of a lot of philosophy, history, science fiction, and other such things that help me ponder or understand Big Questions. It’s all very abstract, dry, and contemplative. My musical tastes have been shifting, too. Not as much ’80s pop or John Williams soundtracks while I’m writing, more Mozart, Beethoven, or other classics.
Vexed by some of the rather angry chatter I’ve seen on Facebook, I’ve ratcheted down that hourly habit to something closer to a brief daily lurk before I find other things to do. The extra free time has allowed me to catch up on my long-neglected reading list, and so I’m trying to take a good whack at reading those books I’ve meant to read for a decade. So far, so good. Thirty-four books read this year; only 197 more to go before I can start adding books back onto the list again. I’m sure some will come to mind.
On the whole, thanks to a very loose freelance schedule that still manages to pay the bills, I’ve become less of a workaholic. I’ll do whatever work is in front of me gladly until the pile has dwindled, then I set thoughts of work aside and go read a book or take another walk in the vegetable-steamer heat of summer in Florida. Slowly, I’m learning how to be inactive, to take pleasure in downtime. This is a big shift, as I spent much of my time from 25 to 45 thinking about work. On the whole, I think this is a good thing.
Politically, I remain a gentleman of the Right, though more and more I find myself in the Libertarian camp, especially as the two most prominent prospects for president this year fill me with equal dismay. I maintain very strict standards for myself (and very definite opinions about others) but I have no interest in inflicting my personal morality on other people. Nor am I particularly interested in having someone else’s ideas foisted on my unwillingly. I live by an increasingly outmoded notion of “Live and let live.” I figure it’ll be appreciated somewhere down the line.
Otherwise, to quote that great philosopher Popeye, I am what I am: a graying, somewhat overweight, middle-aged and self-contained Anglo who usually has a book, pen, or computer in his hand. Eventually I’ll think of something useful to do with all the ideas I have in my head, but for now I keep on living my life, hopeful that eventually it’ll all make sense at some point or, barring that, I’ll do something constructive to do with myself that makes me feel like the journey has been worth the fare.
And so I celebrate living another year on this blue planet, curious to see what happens next.
Do We Belong Among the Stars?
For the last month or so, it has really sucked to watch the news. It started with the terrorist attack at a gay nightclub in my home town of Orlando, Florida, and it quickly devolved into mayhem and macabre behavior in Istanbul, Baghdad, Kabul, and elsewhere. Social turmoil roils abroad and at home, with the racial divide at its all-time worst level in years and law enforcement-related shootings and politicians of all stripes fanning the flames. At the same time, we have contentious elections and presidential candidates who don’t have the full confidence of the nation to solve the problems we face.
There have been worse times in human history, but there have also certainly been better, and right now we seem on one of those downhill slopes that does not bode well for peace or prosperity.
And while all this is going on, I’ve been contemplating human beings going into space. Not just to the International Space Station, our 16-year effort to engage in international engineering and science. No, I’m a space advocate by inclination, which means I spend some of my free time writing things to encourage policy makers or the general public to get behind the notion of going back to the Moon and on to other places in the solar system. Maybe even different solar systems eventually.
I can hear some of you now: For gosh sakes, why?!? Be realistic. Don’t we have more important things to worry about? Don’t we have better things we could spend our money on?
Maybe. And then again, maybe not. Space advocacy—all geekiness aside—has lofty goals for humanity:
- Improve our technologies out in space and, by extension, here on Earth.
- Expand and improve Civilization.
- Ensure that humanity survives somewhere in case there’s some sort of massive war or other disaster here on Earth.
Our imperfect species
And yet the question must be asked: are we capable of putting aside substantive and petty differences to unite for the purpose of expanding out of this world? Some of my more cynical friends would even ask, should we?
I won’t deny that there is more than a helping of utopian optimism in the space advocacy community. Some of it is born out of the Star Trek vision of a positive future, some of it born out of perhaps-unrealistic expectations about how space settlement will affect us as human beings. We tend to accept only our best and brightest into the astronaut corps, and the Russians, Chinese, Japanese, and Europeans set high standards for their space voyagers as well. And yet we’ve had astronauts who cheated on their wives, one astronaut who drove cross-country in pursuit of a romantic rival, and another former astronaut charged with killing two kids in a drunk driving accident.
Astronauts are people, too. They’re not mass murderers, to be certain, but neither are they immune to the frailties of our species—rage, lust, pride—pick your deadly sin. For as much as the late Gene Roddenberry and others might believe that we will improve as a race, I’m not so certain.
And yet…
Despite all my misgivings, I still get angry with people who suggest that humanity is so far gone, that we have done such awful things to ourselves and the Earth, that we should stay here so as not to contaminate the rest of the universe. I consider that, to put it mildly, balderdash. For all our hubris and evil—and heaven knows there’s plenty of both to go around—I’m not convinced we’re that far gone.
Human beings are also capable of great ingenuity when it comes to solving problems. The tech blogs I read regularly identify new technologies for or from space that can solve many of the environmental challenges we face here on Mother Earth. Some of them are at a technology readiness level (TRL in NASA-speak) of one—meaning only theoretical. Others are in testing. Some are operational—level 9.
There have been, are, and will be lessons learned space that can help make life better here. That’s been proven many times. The effort to investigate and explore other worlds continues to pay dividends and will do so as long as we continue the effort.
But should human beings establish permanent settlements on the Moon, on Mars, or on stations flying above our heads in orbit? To borrow from one of our more popular space operas, when Luke Skywalker asked his mentor Yoda “What’s in there?” The little green oven mitt replied, “Only what you take with you.” So will it be when we send people to other worlds to be permanent residents.
We will have capitalism and communism and socialism. We will have greed and lust and rage. We will have politics and regionalism and struggles for power. We will have religious practices, both sublime and sinister. We will have love and generosity and kindness and heroism. We will have families and strong communities and people we admire. We will take all that we are and move it into the harshest environments imaginable because we seek glory or power or wealth or military advantage or freedoms or ways to fix the environment on Earth. We will take all these things with us because that is who we are.
What is it all about?
We have international treaties and statements of intent to prevent specific types of conflict from happening. We have banned weaponry in space, though we continue to develop space weaponry. And even Star Trek, optimistic as it has been, uses phasers and photon torpedoes.
Some would prefer that we establish only a small set of justifications for going into the space frontier, but until space is opened up to multiple interests, we will most likely not go. (And for those who think we are irredeemable as a species, that would probably be just fine.)
We’ve had great plans to explore the ocean floors or polar regions, yet those places remain nearly empty and they’re easier to work with than the Moon or Mars. “Science” is not enough of a motivator to build in those places and so we don’t—such was the intent.
So should we extend human civilization to other worlds? A similar question to ask might be, “Should you and your spouse have a child? If so, why?” The bottom line is that we have children to perpetuate ourselves. We do so out of love for our partners or hope for the future. Mind you, I don’t have a spouse or children, but I see that as a reflection on my limitations as a potential spouse or parent, not because I think marriage or children are bad things.
I believe we’re capable of doing good—enough good in the future to warrant staying around and making more of ourselves. In similar fashion, I believe that we will and should one day spread out into the solar system. No, it will not be Utopia. But we can try to make things better than we’ve had them, one person or instance at a time, just as we keep trying here on Earth.
That’s still worth doing, regardless of how the headlines read
The Introvert’s Guide to Orlando: Universal Orlando Resort Area
Yesterday I took an eight-mile hike around the Universal Orlando property to gather what intel I could muster for their resort area. I haven’t been to Universal Studios or Islands of Adventure in years, partly because a park full of screaming people isn’t something this particular introvert likes to do. However, I realize that some of you introverted types probably enjoy roller coasters anyway, so I’ll break down at some point, buy a ticket, and do an introvert review of those two parks. Today you can enjoy my quiet-time insights into the rest of the Universal property…most of it, at any rate.
Note: Updated October 15 to include Sapphire Falls
General Insights/Tips
The Universal property is much smaller than the Walt Disney World Resort and contains only two theme parks, an entertainment/shopping complex, and five resorts. The two theme parks and entertainment complex (CityWalk) are adjacent to each other, with the resorts connected to them via roads and a 2.5-mile walking path (“Garden Walk”). It’s more compact, but that doesn’t mean it’s a small property. Make sure you have comfortable walking shoes. And hey, it’s summer in Florida–stay hydrated and bring sunblock.
Okay, end of lecturing.
The centralized parking lot for the parks is massive–two multi-level garages labeled by characters from the attractions, akin to Disney–and costs just as much as the Disney lots for a standard car ($20). One thing that I found confusing is that rather than giving each level a character name, they divide the sections vertically, meaning you get Spiderman on levels 1, 2, 3, etc. Just passing it along.
Next thing about parking: unlike Disney, there are no trams to get you to the main gate. There is a designated handicap-access parking lot, but that’s about it. I clocked about a mile over the elevated walkway from Spiderman 452 to the gate, partly because I forgot my journal and had to go back for it, but even so, you’ve got some exercise ahead. You can park at one of the resorts–preferably if you’re a guest–but the day parking there is not cheap, either: $34 a day/$29 for overnight at Hard Rock Hotel, just as an example.
The last overall comment I can offer up for the questing introvert: Universal is noisy. The background music is meant to be exciting! Another translation might be: “We keep the background sound going loud enough to keep you moving.” The public areas in CityWalk and the walkways leading to the theme parks (you pass through CW to get to Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure, hereafter US and IOA) include music everywhere, all the time. Rock or pop tunes, mostly. Even on those occasions where they play a song I like, the volume is still UP THERE, especially in the evening. No, I’m not going to ask these noisy kids to get off of my lawn. I’m just explaining the audio experience as I experienced it. You’re not at a theme park to sit around and enjoy the quiet, are you? Oh, wait…
Fortunately, there are places you can avoid the noise and the crowds, and that’s what I’m here to report.
CityWalk
The first place you might escape the chaos is right inside the CityWalk entry: Universal Cineplex–go see a movie. Of course you’re likely to find a lot of action movies, but you’d have that in any movie theater.
During our hot, steamy days in Central Florida, when most people are in the parks, you can find seating at the restaurants and outside restaurants or saloons. There is also a grassy seating area that leads down to a stage. When there isn’t a band playing on the stage, the area is pretty crowd-free, though it is also shade-free.
The restaurants on the upper level of City Walk– Bob Marley’s, Pat O’Brien’s*, and Antojito’s–are open starting around 4 p.m. and operate until 10 p.m. or so. Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville is open 10:30 a.m.-Midnight Monday through Thursday, 10:30 a.m.-1 a.m. Friday-Sunday. They don’t start getting busy until the parks get near closing time, though I suspect Margaritaville gets busy at lunch time, too. Like the public areas, the restaurants include their own interior music. The benefits of finding a restaurant are fewer people and more air conditioning.
(*A special thanks to Tim O’Hara, the Illinoisan bartender at Pat O’Brien’s, who offered some tips on other out-of-the-way places an introvert might dine or enjoy an adult beverage in the Orlando area. I’ll try to review those locations in later entries.)
The first actually quiet area you can find on the property (there’s even music overhead on the way in from the parking lot) is the walking path from CityWalk past Margaritaville and toward the Royal Pacific Resort, Sapphire Falls Resort, and Cabana Bay Beach Resort. The Garden Walk is accurately named: it’s a quiet walking path bordered with lush subtropical foliage that follows the resort boat shuttle waterway. There aren’t any benches between CW and Royal Pacific, but there are between Royal Pacific and Sapphire Falls/Cabana Bay.
Should you be too tired to walk, there are people riding bicycle rickshaws running between the resorts and the security checkpoints before you enter CityWalk. I’m guessing you have to pay for that service, but honestly I haven’t asked.
Fair warning: the only way to get into the back entrance of Sapphire Falls or the Cabana Bay end of the walkway is with a resort key card. This issue will come up a few times in this entry for obvious reasons. If you’re interested in visiting either of those resorts, you’ll have to drive there.
Royal Pacific Resort
You can get into the Royal Pacific Resort without having to dodge the procedures meant to keep out the riffraff (non-guests). You can enter either through the walkway that leads up to the main lobby or the back entrance that leads to the Pacifica Ballroom further down the Garden Walk. The pool areas for all of the Universal Resorts are only accessible through a guest room key card.
All that said, I like Royal Pacific, though the concept is curious. Imagine if you will an upscale European/Asian resort situated in French Indochina (Vietnam, Cambodia, or Laos) in the 1930s or ’40s. That’s the aesthetic they’re going for, based on the posters on the walls, the statuary on the property, and the music playing in the background.
Like the Disney Resorts, Universal Resorts are less crowded during the day, when the majority of guests are at the parks. The restaurants and saloons are pretty quiet as well. There’s an Emeril Lagasse-owned restaurant there called Tchoup Chop, which is open for lunch (11:30-2:30) and dinner (5-10 p.m.). Another restaurant, Islands Dining Room, seems to be open for breakfast (7-11 a.m. or 7-Noon, depending on the day) and dinner (6-10 p.m.), with breaks in between. The vibe in Islands seems quieter than Tchoup Chop.
Jake’s American Bar is open 11 a.m.-11 p.m. and serves lunch and dinner. Jake’s is less crowded than the hallways, but not particularly quiet. They have live music Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights, so be aware of that.
The quietest, most restful places in Royal Pacific are the lobby lounge before 4 p.m. and the lobby courtyard, which features Asian statuary/fountains and a reflecting pool. It’s hot out there right now, but it works as a place to get out of the way.
Cabana Bay Beach Resort
Again, you can’t get to Cabana Bay via the Garden Walk unless you’re a resort guest with a room key. I have visited the hotel on another occasion, though. Cabana Bay has a distinctly 1950s Miami vibe to it, complete with Jetsons-like interior decor and immaculately maintained classic ’50s automobiles out front. Price-wise, I believe it’s akin to Disney’s Moderate Resorts (Caribbean Beach, Riverside). The campus is somewhat spread out, with has a central building that includes the check-in area, restaurants, merchandise area, and main pool. Again, no pool access without a room key. I was there mid-day (between checkout and check-in times) and found the main building pretty restful with plenty of comfortable furniture and places to get away from the crowds.
Sapphire Falls Resort
As I noted above, you cannot access Sapphire Falls via the Garden Walk to Cabana Bay unless you’re a hotel guest. Not being a hotel guest on the day of my visit, I was unable to enter through the back door. I will have to update this entry at a future point when I try to walk in through the front door. That said, the waterfall out behind the main building was nice. The resort is still partially under construction, with a convention center being added as well as a water park–Volcano Bay–nearby.
Update
I finally visited Sapphire Falls in October by just driving up and parking there. I believe there’s a day rate for valet and a price for overnight, but I’m not certain the valet guy charged me correctly. In any case, have cash handy for that if you just plan to visit. One important thing I learned was that there IS a way to walk to Sapphire Falls from CityWalk without requiring a room key. There is a walkway from the convention center end of Royal Pacific over to the back entrance/boat dock of Sapphire Falls.
The lobby of the hotel is spacious, with some interesting art hanging from the ceiling. The wall art and furniture are trying to capture some sort of Caribbean island feel with some modernistic American thrown in for fun. One thing I appreciated about the lobby is that it’s also pretty quiet. There was some background music (Calypso?) playing but it wasn’t intrusive at all. The far end of the lobby from the entrance has floor-to-ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the eponymous Sapphire Falls behind the hotel. Nice view, and the viewing area had a lot of seating with, again, not a lot of noise.
The lobby restaurant/bar, Strong Water Tavern, has a nice look to it, with hard wood floors and wooden barrels on the ceiling. The bar itself has a couple of good-sized TVs for watching sports and a VERY large-screen TV at the far end for watching the featured game of the day. The place features indoor and outdoor seating and the restaurant appears to be the source of the lobby music because it’s slightly louder there than in the lobby itself. Given the Caribbean riff they have going, I should have picked up on the fact that their featured adult beverages were rum or rum-based. However, I ordered a Sazerac off the menu before I saw the rum menu. Had a caipirinha on round two, and both drinks were excellent.
The menu items are tapas-sized and come from locations across the Caribbean (including the U.S.). The roast pork was good, the sliders were amazing. Despite being “smaller” dishes, they weren’t exactly cheap: items ran $8-16 each, plus the drinks, which ran $9+. All in all, I liked Strong Water Tavern, as the staff was not intrusive on my thoughts and the vibe was very casual. I’m not certain if it was quieter than normal because of the hurricane that had just passed through, but overall the place wasn’t too noisy.
Down the hall from Strong Water Tavern is an amazing, wide spiral stairway that was built to resemble a Spanish castle or fort, with stone walls and framed photographs along the stairwell of various old forts from the Caribbean. At the bottom of the stairwell are some historical artifacts to add to the “castle” feel. A nice, quiet place, but there was nowhere to sit down. At the bottom of the spiral stairway is an elevator lobby with a long bench (good place to catch a nap?) and a hallway leading to another restaurant, Amatista Cook House. I didn’t eat there, but the place seemed pretty quiet. They serve breakfast ($12-18) and dinner ($13-27). They also have a bar off in one corner, away from the tables, which looked like a good place to get away from the crowds. Amatista also has indoor and outdoor seating. Beyond Amatista is the exit to the walkway, which leads you to the boat dock or walkway to Royal Pacific.
On the same floor as the lobby are the fitness facility (Kalina) and the pool area, which you need a room key/card to enter, so I didn’t get a good look at it. However, I did note that they had a movie screen set up near the pool, and one of the Harry Potter films was showing. This is something Disney has been doing at its resorts as well as evening entertainment for the kiddies. The pool area also had a large variety of games and pool toys available, so I guess it’s very kid-friendly. I didn’t get a look at any of the rooms, but what I saw of Sapphire Falls I liked. I did a quick check, and the nightly room rate I got for late October/early November was $174/night. So, not exactly cheap, but not at the top end for this market, either.
As an introvert, I liked Sapphire Falls. Reasonably quiet, with some places to get out of the way.
Hard Rock Hotel
Hard Rock is an imposing, Spanish-style edifice with a red tile roof, white walls, and white marble(?) floors and massive prints of classic rock stars on the walls in the lobby. They have a fountain out front comprising a spiral of metal guitars. I like the aesthetics. However, it’s the Hard Rock Hotel, so needless to say your odds of finding a quiet place are pretty slim. The lobby is spacious with a lot of comfortable furniture, and can be pretty empty outside of check-in/checkout times.
The quietest place I found in HRH was the outside patio of The Kitchen restaurant downstairs, and that’s probably because it wasn’t open when I walked through it. That’s not to say it was quiet. The patio is next to the pool area, and like the Disney Resorts, the Universal Resorts have the recreation employees on megaphones playing games with the kids. The outside patio area upstairs on the lobby level takes you out of the lobby flow, but there’s still music out there, and the pool noise. That’s also where you find the smoking areas.
There are a couple places where you can get clear of the crowds, if not the music. The Velvet Bar plays a different set of music from the lobby, but it’s still rock, and still omnipresent. That said, it’s not too crowded until 7 or so (opens at 5). I like the bar at The Palm even if the food is seriously pricey (think $45-55 for a steak). The staff is great and–important for the introvert looking for somewhere quiet to chill out–low key, meaning they’ll let you take your time ordering and won’t interrupt conversations. Lauren the manager is also fun, as she’ll talk about geek stuff with the enthusiasm of a true fan. And depending on the time of year–such as now–it’s quieter between 5 and 7 than it would be otherwise. Also, a lot of folks go in there just to order drinks before going in before dinner, so there’s a lot of turnover in who’s on the next bar stool.
Portofino Bay Resort
I’ve saved the best for last. Portofino Bay is my favorite of the Universal Resorts, and not just for its aesthetics–northern Italian, multi-colored lodges–but also because of its noise level, or lack thereof. Portofino is by far the quietest, most restful resort on the Universal property. Not going to say it’s 100% quiet, but even the background music–Italian or Italian-American–is not there to knock you over. And Portofino has something that’s almost unique there: public areas without music! One of them is the pool area, which is, of course, guests only. Another is the bocce ball court. Not sure where you get the bocce balls, but I’ve seen them on occasion.
There are a few nice areas off the lobby and the main hallway, some indoors, some outdoors, which are simply plazas for sitting and resting. One or two have fountains. There are a couple saloons where you can get out of the flow of traffic–The Thirsty Fish and Bar American, though they don’t open until 3:30 or 4 p.m. If they let you in, though, you can sit in a quiet area undisturbed. The Thirsty Fish has indoor and outdoor seating, and likewise does not open until 4. Both bars are open until around 10 p.m. The restaurants are good and, like the Disney experience, the more expensive the place, the less likely you are to find small children or infants there.
The main courtyard out back is where the music is loudest, and even so that music can quickly get lost once you walk toward either wing. Portofino also has a walking path that takes you around most or all of the hotel. The walkway isn’t always shaded going around the hotel, but it is quiet and out of the way.
And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the Garden Walk between Portofino and Hard Rock (you can, incidentally, walk all the way from Portofino to Cabana Bay along the paths, passing by the theme parks or CityWalk along the way). This area is particularly well shaded with bamboo and other shrubbery and includes multiple well-placed benches that allow you to admire the foliage, watch the boats go by, or (my favorite) sit down and read quietly with people walking by only occasionally. That path also features several loops that take you to isolated places near the water and a butterfly garden.
All this is to say that yes, you can find quiet, restful places to restore your overloaded mind and ears while visiting Universal Orlando. You’ll just have to take a bit of a walk.
Why Do I Write?
I write to pay my bills. I’m a technical writer, that’s what I do. It’s a great pleasure that I’m able to turn something I’m able to do reasonably well into cash and groceries.
But that is nonfiction, and work done on behalf of someone else’s idea or business. I still write for myself. Why?
First, it might be helpful to explain what I consider “writing for myself.” This would include:
- Fiction
- Poetry
- Journal writing
All of these activities serve personal, what some might call “antisocial” purposes because they are for my own benefit and enjoyment, not necessarily others’. Note that I am not a published/paid writer in any of those categories, so why do I bother?
I’ve been writing fiction since 1978 or so. I’ve been writing poetry since 1984 or so. I’ve been keeping a journal since 1988. Again, not for profit. Occasionally I’ve let others read the stuff, but not as a regular habit anymore. So why do I bother?
Maybe writing is just a hobby? A literary form of therapy? I write in these various forms for my own personal enjoyment. Sometimes I learn something. Sometimes I just feel better afterward. Sometimes I want to say something about the state of the world (or my reactions to it) and saying it straight out is not the most effective way to do it. If I have things I want to say or think about, why not just mull them over in my head? Why bother with the physical activity of putting pen to paper or fingers to laptop keyboard?
Maybe because writing is my way of leaving monuments. I was here, I lived, I had ideas, I mattered: here is the proof.
If you write, what compels you to do so?
What do you see?
Just a middle-aged white guy with short grey hair and Van Dyke beard, wearing a faded green Hawaiian shirt adorned with game fish and boats. He studies the book in front of him with Irish blue eyes that peer out of a florid face and narrow bifocal, Transitions lenses. His arms are hairy and he has a quarter-inch brown mole on the slightly browned skin near the middle of his forearm. All of his skin has a slick sheen of sweat and sunblock. The torso is thick, but not grossly so—just extra fat at the middle and slight love handles. His shorts are baggy and rise above a pair of pale but well-worked legs and scuffed white cross-trainers. His legs are crossed as he sits on a shaded park bench under the hot Florida sun, but his body is more or less relaxed and at ease.
At any moment he will decide he’s had enough with reading, bend over one corner of a page, bound upward, and begin walking. He keeps his gaze on the sidewalk or briefly at the obstacles in his way. His brow furrows and his mouth is turned slightly downward, moving but making no sound. Occasionally he pauses, strokes his beard, tilting his head and nodding before setting off again.
He rarely makes eye contact, merely scanning faces as he arrows through a crowd. His pace, when not lost in rumination, is brisk and his steps long. At a steady four miles per hour, he can get anywhere or nowhere in good time, often sweaty at the end of his march.
Now and then he looks at a building or some piece of nature that attracts his attention. If something really interests him, he pauses, pulls his iPhone from his front pocket, and captures the image before moving on. He is not thinking about anything in particular. He is not angry, merely lost in thought. This is what you see, this is what he does.
The Real Bart Leahy 