Two posts? In the same month? How is this even a thing?
Well, I'll tell you: I had way, WAY too much fun last night hanging out with people I've known forever, people I've met once, and people I've never met before. I mean, Wednesdays are usually fun in general, but every once in awhile, a Wednesday comes along that is super fun. Last night was one of those Wednesdays.
But I'm here to tell you about how awesome I am at having fun. No, I'm here to tell you how much I suck at life.
Since last night was so much fun (did I mention that?), I am a complete pile of uselessness today. I decided to at least pretend to be productive by doing something that requires very little movement. Hence, a new blog post. Aren't you lucky?
I actually went back and re-read every post on here, something I don't usually do. It depresses me how little progress I've made on my writing since I started this blog almost 7 years ago. Sheesh.
I promised to win 2009, have something published before 2010, and at least finish one damn writing project I started. None of those things happened. That makes me sad.
Let me tell you about my writing process. This is how the vast majority of my projects get started. I'll be driving down the road or trying to fall asleep or doing some other mindless task when, all of a sudden, BOOM! I'll get an amazing sentence in my head. I'll stop what I'm doing, jot down the sentence, and go back to my original activity (yes, it does get a little scary in the car). Then when I have real, actual time, I'll spin that one little sentence in to 10,000 or more words. This is how SSIBWO got started. This is how my YA book got started. It's not how HOS got started; that began with an image in my head, but same concept.
Do you how frustrating it is to have to wait for your brain to go all lolly-gaga before you can write? Not to mention if I don't have any paper. That actually happened the other night. I got the sentence, came up with character names and subplots, somehow managed to write the whole book in my head, even decided who was going to play whom in the movie adaptation, and I neglected to write anything down because I'm an idiot. Within the span of 30 minutes, I couldn't even remember the main character's name. Good work.
But here's the thing: if I could just remember that one damn sentence, I'm sure I would get the whole thing back. But I can't remember it. I know it was a semi-common phrase that would make my main character sound like a hippie if you added the word "man" to the end. Not helpful.
I do, however, have a plan.
As I have mentioned, I've been reading books like a crazy person, two to three at a time. I'm weird, I know. Anyway, most of the books have been amazing, but one I read was meh. It had an okay plot, but it lacked any distinct style or voice. I could have been written by a robot. For all I know, it was. No, I will not tell you who actually wrote it, because I don't feel that she's a bad writer, just an uninspired one. As we all know, there's only one writer I dislike enough to talk shit about (hint: she's the only one that has her own tag on the right).
Anyway, I decided to do what any writer would do when faced with the same situation: rewrite the book. Hack move? You betcha! Do I care? No. No I do not.
I'm not going to promise you I'll finish it, because we all know how shitty I am at keeping writing promises. But just know it's a thing I'm doing. I might not ever mention it again or I might actually complete it. That would be weird.
Until next time!
Showing posts with label motivation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motivation. Show all posts
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Sunday, June 23, 2013
{ 28 } Reading Writers
Hey there, blog readers. This is the first thing I've written about anything since my letter to Uncle Gary in post 27. It's not that I haven't wanted to write, it's just that I've been in a funk. A "life sickness", if you will. I've been on a constant cycle of work-sleep-repeat with the occasional lost weekend or video game binge to break up the monotony.
I have a few points to hit, so let's jump right in, shall we?
First, my hometown of Black Forest has burned to the ground. Not all of it, mind you, but the vast majority. The house my family lovely constructed still stands. But the house we lived in before that, the one in which I met my then-best friend, where my bedroom had cloud wall paper and I wrote "I hate this place" on the inside of my closet door, the house my step-dad almost burned down himself by putting hot ashes in a plastic garbage can in the garage by the hay bale for my bunnies, where my brother and I buried our only time capsule, where I watched the first Gulf War play out on a 13 inch t.v., where I practiced singing "More Than Words" to get on Star Search, where my mom's best friends move in after we moved out is gone. The whole neighborhood. Gone.
I only bring this up because one, I'm sad about it and two, Mom would always remind us "It's not if, but when" in regards to the whole place going up in flames. Assuming the family was safe, what would we take? What would we save? I'm thankful my family and most of my friend's families no longer live there. Looking at all the things I own, I wouldn't be sad if most of it was lost. But my books! My writings! My pictures! Too much. What would I save now? What would you save?
Second, I finally have someone else to act as a sounding board for my ideas. His name is Ross and he's published. Boding = well. I'll keep you posted. Maybe my mush-brain can pump out something in totality for once.
Third, I have a friend named Marcus. He likes reading but doesn't like to read. Hell, if he made it this far, big-ups. I'm thinking about doing audio recordings of at least my writings so Marcus can enjoy them. Maybe I'll audio-tise all my blogs. Thoughts?
Finally, and to the point: I read a lot. If there's not a book in my hand, there's one on my iPod. When I read print, it's 100% true crime, usually Ann Rule. I can't help it: I love murder. And Ann Rule, being a former police woman, is my hero. A quick count of my true crime library has 13 titles, 11 of which are Ms. Rule. My audiobooks are mostly made up of fiction, usually zombie or apocalyptic. Currently I'm listening to A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr.. (Interesting side note: a lot of my favorite titles, Wuthering Heights, To Kill A Mocking Bird were the only novels published by those authors. Same with A Canticle for Leibowitz. Will I love it?)
Anyway, I went to grab a new paperback to read and, to my surprise, I have no more true crime on my shelf!!! I only buy books at ARC and they have been devoid of true crime recently, so what do I read? I grabbed the closest thing: The Odessa File by Frederick Forsyth. Why? No clue. It's the first fiction book (even though there are real elements) I've held in my hot little hands in quite awhile. I'm eating the book like cake. But here is my question to you: what the hell do I read next? Any suggestions from Reader Land?
I'll try to be more productive. Don't hold your breath.
I have a few points to hit, so let's jump right in, shall we?
First, my hometown of Black Forest has burned to the ground. Not all of it, mind you, but the vast majority. The house my family lovely constructed still stands. But the house we lived in before that, the one in which I met my then-best friend, where my bedroom had cloud wall paper and I wrote "I hate this place" on the inside of my closet door, the house my step-dad almost burned down himself by putting hot ashes in a plastic garbage can in the garage by the hay bale for my bunnies, where my brother and I buried our only time capsule, where I watched the first Gulf War play out on a 13 inch t.v., where I practiced singing "More Than Words" to get on Star Search, where my mom's best friends move in after we moved out is gone. The whole neighborhood. Gone.
I only bring this up because one, I'm sad about it and two, Mom would always remind us "It's not if, but when" in regards to the whole place going up in flames. Assuming the family was safe, what would we take? What would we save? I'm thankful my family and most of my friend's families no longer live there. Looking at all the things I own, I wouldn't be sad if most of it was lost. But my books! My writings! My pictures! Too much. What would I save now? What would you save?
Second, I finally have someone else to act as a sounding board for my ideas. His name is Ross and he's published. Boding = well. I'll keep you posted. Maybe my mush-brain can pump out something in totality for once.
Third, I have a friend named Marcus. He likes reading but doesn't like to read. Hell, if he made it this far, big-ups. I'm thinking about doing audio recordings of at least my writings so Marcus can enjoy them. Maybe I'll audio-tise all my blogs. Thoughts?
Finally, and to the point: I read a lot. If there's not a book in my hand, there's one on my iPod. When I read print, it's 100% true crime, usually Ann Rule. I can't help it: I love murder. And Ann Rule, being a former police woman, is my hero. A quick count of my true crime library has 13 titles, 11 of which are Ms. Rule. My audiobooks are mostly made up of fiction, usually zombie or apocalyptic. Currently I'm listening to A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr.. (Interesting side note: a lot of my favorite titles, Wuthering Heights, To Kill A Mocking Bird were the only novels published by those authors. Same with A Canticle for Leibowitz. Will I love it?)
Anyway, I went to grab a new paperback to read and, to my surprise, I have no more true crime on my shelf!!! I only buy books at ARC and they have been devoid of true crime recently, so what do I read? I grabbed the closest thing: The Odessa File by Frederick Forsyth. Why? No clue. It's the first fiction book (even though there are real elements) I've held in my hot little hands in quite awhile. I'm eating the book like cake. But here is my question to you: what the hell do I read next? Any suggestions from Reader Land?
I'll try to be more productive. Don't hold your breath.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
{ 23 } Are You There Readers? It's Me, Writer.
As of late, I've been busy and sick. Mostly busy, which I'm sure lead to my dumb head cold. That and winter is quickly approaching.
Blarg.
I have not been writing as I should be. No, I found "Billy", considered it a small victory, and haven't progressed. I have, however:
Oh, what? You didn't notice? Maybe that's because you're a terrible friend. Find it on the FB or click the "Like" button on the right and you'll get the (infrequent) updates I post.
It helps me stay motivated when you're looking over my shoulder.
Don't be a jerk.
Blarg.
I have not been writing as I should be. No, I found "Billy", considered it a small victory, and haven't progressed. I have, however:
Oh, what? You didn't notice? Maybe that's because you're a terrible friend. Find it on the FB or click the "Like" button on the right and you'll get the (infrequent) updates I post.
It helps me stay motivated when you're looking over my shoulder.
Don't be a jerk.
Monday, June 27, 2011
{ 19 } "Are You Dead?"
I get this question a lot. I haven't posted a writing blog since September of '10, for goodness sake. No wonder everyone thinks I'm dead. To make matters even worse, I haven't been on Facebook since November! I guess I would think I was dead, too.
But, since I'm writing in the first person, I must not be dead (or, before I died, I programmed a robot that could emulate me perfectly). Actually, I went from working out of town overnight to working in town at the crack of dawn. Apparently my creativity flows best while drinking at 7 a.m., something I'm no longer able to do... Sigh...
Per usual, however, my little dancing creativity man has reared his beautiful head, propelling me in to a new project.
You might be now asking yourself: "What happened to the old projects, Little Miss Scatter Brain?" Well, let me give you the rundown, much like in my last post...
- Working on HOS? Still, not lately. It's in my brain, but that hasn't changed since, oh, 1998.
- Working on that YA novel? I've kicked around a few words here and there, but I've seemed to have lost the narrative. I'm at Point A, and I know where Point B is, but getting there is HELL.
- Getting the self-published project off the ground? If I could actually find things in my office, this would be a done deal. Since I last discussed it in March '10, nothing has changed except the death of the guinea pig (R.I.P, Matty Piginoink, Jan. '07 - Feb. '11). It's still a giant storage unit, but now with 50% less animal poop and 300% more VHS tapes!
- Any new "Dave" episodes? Yeah, right. Keep the dream alive.
- Examiner.com? Wasn't that paying you? I've learned that there is a fine line between "paying" me and "promising" to pay me. Yes, I'm still writing for them, but not with the frequency I once was. Yes, I still enjoy it. No, I have not seen a dime. Blarg.
- For the love of Christ, B! What have you been doing, creativity-wise? Very little, as of recent. Art is HARD, dammit!
Let me tell, you however, about the way my creativity works, chemically. It reaches into your brain chemically, and then it locates your happiest memory chemically, then it locks onto that emotion and freezes it chemically, and then it keeps you happy, happy. ... Wait, wait. That's Gleemonex, not my creativity.
Here's what my creativity actually does: it forces me to get up five minutes after I go to bed, jot down 65 words, then go to sleep only to wake up the next morning to spin them in to 2500 words. It's pretty cool/creepy, and it totally happened last week.
Basically I wrote 85% of a prologue to a new book. It's good. It's really, really good. It's so damn good that when I get the prologue to 100%, I'm going to post it. And you will all cheer. Keep your eyes open.
More later, True Believers.
But, since I'm writing in the first person, I must not be dead (or, before I died, I programmed a robot that could emulate me perfectly). Actually, I went from working out of town overnight to working in town at the crack of dawn. Apparently my creativity flows best while drinking at 7 a.m., something I'm no longer able to do... Sigh...
Per usual, however, my little dancing creativity man has reared his beautiful head, propelling me in to a new project.
You might be now asking yourself: "What happened to the old projects, Little Miss Scatter Brain?" Well, let me give you the rundown, much like in my last post...
- Working on HOS? Still, not lately. It's in my brain, but that hasn't changed since, oh, 1998.
- Working on that YA novel? I've kicked around a few words here and there, but I've seemed to have lost the narrative. I'm at Point A, and I know where Point B is, but getting there is HELL.
- Getting the self-published project off the ground? If I could actually find things in my office, this would be a done deal. Since I last discussed it in March '10, nothing has changed except the death of the guinea pig (R.I.P, Matty Piginoink, Jan. '07 - Feb. '11). It's still a giant storage unit, but now with 50% less animal poop and 300% more VHS tapes!
- Any new "Dave" episodes? Yeah, right. Keep the dream alive.
- Examiner.com? Wasn't that paying you? I've learned that there is a fine line between "paying" me and "promising" to pay me. Yes, I'm still writing for them, but not with the frequency I once was. Yes, I still enjoy it. No, I have not seen a dime. Blarg.
- For the love of Christ, B! What have you been doing, creativity-wise? Very little, as of recent. Art is HARD, dammit!
Let me tell, you however, about the way my creativity works, chemically. It reaches into your brain chemically, and then it locates your happiest memory chemically, then it locks onto that emotion and freezes it chemically, and then it keeps you happy, happy. ... Wait, wait. That's Gleemonex, not my creativity.
Here's what my creativity actually does: it forces me to get up five minutes after I go to bed, jot down 65 words, then go to sleep only to wake up the next morning to spin them in to 2500 words. It's pretty cool/creepy, and it totally happened last week.
Basically I wrote 85% of a prologue to a new book. It's good. It's really, really good. It's so damn good that when I get the prologue to 100%, I'm going to post it. And you will all cheer. Keep your eyes open.
More later, True Believers.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
{ 17 } FOR REALS: No Chickens...
Blarg. I know I promised you an ISBN months ago; I did not lie. It's just that since I posted my original self-challenge, I've been working off what little ass I ever had. I've taken on four jobs now. Three of them are, albeit, the same in nature, but between them I'm gone Sunday through Friday with less then 48 hours to spend with the BF.
In my defense, I have not had time to set up my office. This is the office in which I have stored all the material that I was going to publish. My office is more of a storage unit, not only for my publishable items, but also for the cat and guinea pig boxes. That does not exactly inspire me.
I have been working on writing, though! My young adult novel (did I tell you I'm writing one?) is currently at 11,330 words.
I've written four scripts for a web series called Dave Becomes A Trucker. It's funny, funny shit, IMNSHO.
I'm also working on a novel called The Flowers Be Not Sad about the life of an unwilling drug user. No, it's not autobiographical, thankyouverymuch.
HOS is not dead, but I have not been working on it as much as I should. I have the internet in sporadic moments when I'm on the road and, sad to say, HOS still needs more research.
So here's the deal: when I get time, I will finish my office and gather my publishable work. THEN I shall provide you with the ISBN to my book.
Be prepared to wait, dear readers.
In my defense, I have not had time to set up my office. This is the office in which I have stored all the material that I was going to publish. My office is more of a storage unit, not only for my publishable items, but also for the cat and guinea pig boxes. That does not exactly inspire me.
I have been working on writing, though! My young adult novel (did I tell you I'm writing one?) is currently at 11,330 words.
I've written four scripts for a web series called Dave Becomes A Trucker. It's funny, funny shit, IMNSHO.
I'm also working on a novel called The Flowers Be Not Sad about the life of an unwilling drug user. No, it's not autobiographical, thankyouverymuch.
HOS is not dead, but I have not been working on it as much as I should. I have the internet in sporadic moments when I'm on the road and, sad to say, HOS still needs more research.
So here's the deal: when I get time, I will finish my office and gather my publishable work. THEN I shall provide you with the ISBN to my book.
Be prepared to wait, dear readers.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
{ 11 } Only Kind of Slacking...
I was gently reminded today that writers write (my own words). True, I have not blogged in a bit, but I have still been writing. My crazy night job has had me on the road or working really odd hours for awhile and I've either not had access to a computer or have been so beat tired I didn't feel like blogging.
Okay, enough with the excuses. Let me fill you in on what I have been doing...
First, I decided to start a crime novel. I needed something to get my mind off of HOS and all of its research. This new project, working title MD, is proving to be a lot more difficult them first imagined. It's not research intensive, thank goodness, but trying to write a plot that's not transparent as water is a challenge. Thus far, I'm just missing one key ingredient and then it's write time. Should be too hard (famous last words).
Second, I started thinking again about J.K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer. Not so much their "I just had this idea..." stuff, but look at what they wrote: tween/young adult (YA) novels. A quick check of best selling books last week has Meyer's taking four out of five top places and, as far as best selling books of all time, the Harry Potter books take six out of the top twenty one spots. Why? Harry Potter is obvious: great plot, great characters, amazing franchise. I have not read any of Meyer's books (they are on reserve for me when they come back to the library), but I have heard they lack substance or deep characters. So why the huge success?
I have my own opinions, but not having read the books, I can't really say. What I can report is what others have said: all the characters are perfect, it's sexual without sex, Edward is HAWT (gross, IMHO), Edward is a hollow shell so girls can fit his "personality" to what they want, et cetera.
What I think this series and others in the YA genre break down to is simple: YA girls want romance and they want to get away with reading sexual books. How many of you sneaked a peek at your mom's copy of Fear of Flying or read and reread the "taboo" parts of Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.? I think the sexual non-sex of Meyer's books appeals to young girls and their parents. Spicy but not too hot.
I also think this particular series is so popular is because teenagers are sheep. Wait, that came out kind of mean... But still: it's great to be popular and if reading these books and loving them makes you popular (or at least gives the illusion), all the better. Not that that's a bad thing. If kids are reading, I'll get behind any book. Think for a minute about Fear of Flying and Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. How did we ever find these books before the invention of the Internet? I can assure you no teacher in their right mind was recommending them to my generation, what with all the censorship going on in the '80s. More then likely we heard they were "naughty" and just had to read them. But in this decade, one blogger can write a review or one girl can post a MySpace "I Love TWILIGHT!" message and it's an international sensation. Easy peezy.
Okay, that's enough Meyers/teenager bashing for now. In my next post (which will be soon) I'll share with you what I wrote (on actual paper!) about what I think YAs want and the challenges I'm going to face if I decide to write for the Me Generation, which is looking like a very strong possibility.
Now if those damn little girls would just return their copies of Twilight to the library...
Okay, enough with the excuses. Let me fill you in on what I have been doing...
First, I decided to start a crime novel. I needed something to get my mind off of HOS and all of its research. This new project, working title MD, is proving to be a lot more difficult them first imagined. It's not research intensive, thank goodness, but trying to write a plot that's not transparent as water is a challenge. Thus far, I'm just missing one key ingredient and then it's write time. Should be too hard (famous last words).
Second, I started thinking again about J.K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer. Not so much their "I just had this idea..." stuff, but look at what they wrote: tween/young adult (YA) novels. A quick check of best selling books last week has Meyer's taking four out of five top places and, as far as best selling books of all time, the Harry Potter books take six out of the top twenty one spots. Why? Harry Potter is obvious: great plot, great characters, amazing franchise. I have not read any of Meyer's books (they are on reserve for me when they come back to the library), but I have heard they lack substance or deep characters. So why the huge success?
I have my own opinions, but not having read the books, I can't really say. What I can report is what others have said: all the characters are perfect, it's sexual without sex, Edward is HAWT (gross, IMHO), Edward is a hollow shell so girls can fit his "personality" to what they want, et cetera.
What I think this series and others in the YA genre break down to is simple: YA girls want romance and they want to get away with reading sexual books. How many of you sneaked a peek at your mom's copy of Fear of Flying or read and reread the "taboo" parts of Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.? I think the sexual non-sex of Meyer's books appeals to young girls and their parents. Spicy but not too hot.
I also think this particular series is so popular is because teenagers are sheep. Wait, that came out kind of mean... But still: it's great to be popular and if reading these books and loving them makes you popular (or at least gives the illusion), all the better. Not that that's a bad thing. If kids are reading, I'll get behind any book. Think for a minute about Fear of Flying and Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. How did we ever find these books before the invention of the Internet? I can assure you no teacher in their right mind was recommending them to my generation, what with all the censorship going on in the '80s. More then likely we heard they were "naughty" and just had to read them. But in this decade, one blogger can write a review or one girl can post a MySpace "I Love TWILIGHT!" message and it's an international sensation. Easy peezy.
Okay, that's enough Meyers/teenager bashing for now. In my next post (which will be soon) I'll share with you what I wrote (on actual paper!) about what I think YAs want and the challenges I'm going to face if I decide to write for the Me Generation, which is looking like a very strong possibility.
Now if those damn little girls would just return their copies of Twilight to the library...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
{ 10 } Brace Yourself: Here It Comes
No, nothing good. Just my freaking birthday. Didn't I just have one of these a year or so ago? I am stressing out, not just because of that, but because of life in general. Bills, mostly, but I've been incredibly stagnant on writing.
I'm meeting with Josh again this week. I know that will help. I need to get out of the funk of daily life and harness Mr. Creativity again. Where did he go? Oh, I remember: his energy has been spent on organizing the house, not freaking out about the holidays, and trying to remain mindful of being a good person.
Well, after tomorrow, things will be calming down. No more holidays, no more birthdays (for a little while, at least), and work should be getting back on schedule.
I pose a birthday eve question to you, dear readers: In all the media you've encountered, be it film, books, opera, whatever, what is something that got your emotions running high? Like, so high you had to put the book down or pause the movie so you could get your breath. I'll give you a few examples from my life to get you started...
I'm off.
I'm meeting with Josh again this week. I know that will help. I need to get out of the funk of daily life and harness Mr. Creativity again. Where did he go? Oh, I remember: his energy has been spent on organizing the house, not freaking out about the holidays, and trying to remain mindful of being a good person.
Well, after tomorrow, things will be calming down. No more holidays, no more birthdays (for a little while, at least), and work should be getting back on schedule.
I pose a birthday eve question to you, dear readers: In all the media you've encountered, be it film, books, opera, whatever, what is something that got your emotions running high? Like, so high you had to put the book down or pause the movie so you could get your breath. I'll give you a few examples from my life to get you started...
- Max Schumacher's speech in the movie Network: "You need me. You need me badly. Because I'm your last contact with human reality. I love you. And that painful, decaying love is the only thing between you and the shrieking nothingness you live the rest of the day." It blows my mind to read it typed here, let alone see it.
- The end of We The Living by Ayn Rand. I have never cried as hard as when I finished this book. I will not spoil the ending for you (like you read Rand...).
- When Catherine declares " . . . he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire." about Heathcliff in Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights. Really, the whole book gets to me. Say what you want, but as Brontë's only novel, you have to be blown away.
I'm off.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
{ 9 } A New Year, A New Reason To WIN
So: I've discovered non-motivation for HOS, I've found new motivation, and I've lived through another year. So far so good.
With 2009 looming large over my head, I've been contemplating a lot. I abhor resolutions as they usually seem to make me sad when I realize I have yet to do them. But this year I'm lucky: I have a BF who has thinks he hasn't accomplished either.
Why is this a good thing? Because we're both super creative. I think if we combine and use our powers for good, we can get some stuff done. Neither of us have fully realized or actualized our creative dreams. I say we take an hour a day and work on them. Enough of this here and there, hit and miss bullshit. I want to win in 2009!
As I've stated before: 2009 WILL be the year HOS gets published. I can't stand it any more. I can have this amazing story rolling around in my head like a pebble in my shoe.
My wonderful friend Terrie filled me in on a little secret awhile ago. Apparently Margaret Mitchell wrote the last chapter of Gone With The Wind first, then skipped around. Maybe that would work for me; I do seem to have an ending down...
Well, all we can do is see what happens. I promise in 2009 to actively write and, hopefully in the process, help the BF get some of his creative projects done.
I will own 2009.
With 2009 looming large over my head, I've been contemplating a lot. I abhor resolutions as they usually seem to make me sad when I realize I have yet to do them. But this year I'm lucky: I have a BF who has thinks he hasn't accomplished either.
Why is this a good thing? Because we're both super creative. I think if we combine and use our powers for good, we can get some stuff done. Neither of us have fully realized or actualized our creative dreams. I say we take an hour a day and work on them. Enough of this here and there, hit and miss bullshit. I want to win in 2009!
As I've stated before: 2009 WILL be the year HOS gets published. I can't stand it any more. I can have this amazing story rolling around in my head like a pebble in my shoe.
My wonderful friend Terrie filled me in on a little secret awhile ago. Apparently Margaret Mitchell wrote the last chapter of Gone With The Wind first, then skipped around. Maybe that would work for me; I do seem to have an ending down...
Well, all we can do is see what happens. I promise in 2009 to actively write and, hopefully in the process, help the BF get some of his creative projects done.
I will own 2009.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
{ 8 } Year's End Lament
I hate this time of year. It's a left right knock out, with XMas, brother's birthday, New Years, my birthday, all with in the span of two weeks. Ick.
Of course, this doesn't inspire me to write. BUT I did indeed find a good source of inspiration: one Mr. Josh Bucher. Joshems is an ex-BF of mine. But not the crappy kind of ex, oh no. He never hit me, he never spoke a bad word to me, he was never unkind. Josh is my ex-BF only because I'm an ass hole. Josh is one of the kindest, most giving, smartest people I know. And when I say smart, I mean it. In all ways, but, for the current most important way, smartest about the subject of my novel.
Josh and I met to discuss HOS last Wednesday. It was awesome: I couldn't even finish a sentence before he was spouting off ideas. We are to meet next week to go over some more ideas. I love the Josh!
Getting shit done!
Of course, this doesn't inspire me to write. BUT I did indeed find a good source of inspiration: one Mr. Josh Bucher. Joshems is an ex-BF of mine. But not the crappy kind of ex, oh no. He never hit me, he never spoke a bad word to me, he was never unkind. Josh is my ex-BF only because I'm an ass hole. Josh is one of the kindest, most giving, smartest people I know. And when I say smart, I mean it. In all ways, but, for the current most important way, smartest about the subject of my novel.
Josh and I met to discuss HOS last Wednesday. It was awesome: I couldn't even finish a sentence before he was spouting off ideas. We are to meet next week to go over some more ideas. I love the Josh!
Getting shit done!
Monday, December 8, 2008
{ 7 } Flatlining
Getting inspired in bursts is starting to piss me off. One day I'll write or research like a mad women only to have it followed by days and days of nothing. It makes me crazy. Even writing this blog is taxing right now. It has been said that a good writer writes every day to keep their skills honed, much like a track runner. And I try, I really do, but some days I don't want to read let alone write.
I've been trying to compile a list of things that inspire me to work. So far all I can come up with are things that don't inspire me. I now present you with The List of Things That Make My Brain Shut Off:
Help?
I've been trying to compile a list of things that inspire me to work. So far all I can come up with are things that don't inspire me. I now present you with The List of Things That Make My Brain Shut Off:
- Booze: I've tried the Hemmingway/Bukowski approach and it doesn't work that well for me.
- Canasta: I will play online for hours on end without a single thought in my brain.
- MySpace: How many times can I hit refresh to see if I have a new comment? Lame.
- Life in general: Same day, different crap.
Help?
Sunday, November 30, 2008
{ 2 } Rewarding My Reward
Like finishing this damn book wont be wont of a reward, I've promised myself a little gift: knuckle tattoos.
I know what you're thinking: What the hell? I've always wanted knuckle tats but have never found any rhyme nor reason to get them. Besides, what would I get? Man's Ruin? Fuck Love? Geek Life? I H8 Space? All very compelling, but not on my knuckles. Plus there's that whole never-get-a-job-again thing.
So how is this a reward to me? Well, I've been working on this book since forever and yet it has not had an ending. This is part of the reason I've been so hesitant to write. I hate not knowing where the story is going. I'd been over and over endings: love conquers all (lame), the world ends (cop out), everything's just okay (further copping out). Then it struck me: FREE WILL. The book is an apocalyptic thriller (might have helped if you knew that) and one of the long-standing philosophical debates is free will versus God's will.
Did I mention I'm an atheist?
Anyway, once the theme of the ending finally smacked me in the face, which was two days ago, I hung a note on my cork board that reads, "How could you forget Free Will?!?" Indeed. Since then I've come to realize that that's been the underlying theme of the book from Day One. I just didn't see it.
My reward upon getting this thing published will be FREE WILL on my knuckles. How could I forget? With a tattoo like that I'm sure to never again. Plus, once I'm a rich and famous writer, who cares about getting another job?
Speaking of, I'm late to work...
I know what you're thinking: What the hell? I've always wanted knuckle tats but have never found any rhyme nor reason to get them. Besides, what would I get? Man's Ruin? Fuck Love? Geek Life? I H8 Space? All very compelling, but not on my knuckles. Plus there's that whole never-get-a-job-again thing.
So how is this a reward to me? Well, I've been working on this book since forever and yet it has not had an ending. This is part of the reason I've been so hesitant to write. I hate not knowing where the story is going. I'd been over and over endings: love conquers all (lame), the world ends (cop out), everything's just okay (further copping out). Then it struck me: FREE WILL. The book is an apocalyptic thriller (might have helped if you knew that) and one of the long-standing philosophical debates is free will versus God's will.
Did I mention I'm an atheist?
Anyway, once the theme of the ending finally smacked me in the face, which was two days ago, I hung a note on my cork board that reads, "How could you forget Free Will?!?" Indeed. Since then I've come to realize that that's been the underlying theme of the book from Day One. I just didn't see it.
My reward upon getting this thing published will be FREE WILL on my knuckles. How could I forget? With a tattoo like that I'm sure to never again. Plus, once I'm a rich and famous writer, who cares about getting another job?
Speaking of, I'm late to work...
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