Here is proof that I have circled something and written a note. If that doesn't constitute working on a novel, then I don't know what does.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
PUBLISHED AGAIN! Mobius Trip is up on 50-Word Stories today
I was published on 50-Word Stories again today! Follow this link to read Mobius Trip. I really like doing these micro fiction tales. It is a great exercise in brevity. Woo.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Walls
I am, or should be, right now, looking over a manuscript and making edits. But I just don't know what the bigger picture for this story is yet. I need to add a bunch to it yet, I know that. But hell, I just don't know where to go from here with it. I've read through the whole thing, two hundred something pages in Word. I marked the hell out of the draft I have. Now I'm back to looking at it and thinking, "What am I taking out? What am I leaving in? What works? What flops?" Narrative, yo... narrative is the thing. Serve the narrative. I have a writing Qui-Gon Jinn whispering in my ear. And I keep swatting him away because he is distracting. And kind of an asshole.
I am having trouble seeing the bigger picture. Is this fucking thing any good or what? How do I make it better? And it's not at the point yet where anyone can read it. It's a jumble, I know that. So I'm stuck in my own head, trying to figure out how to position these pieces that I have so that they're just right. I'm stuck with a stack of papers that is laughing at me. Saying, "You fell apart at page 38 and you never got your shit back together, man. What were you thinking?"
Ugh. You shut up too, papers, or you and Qui-Gon and I are going out back. I guess I really need to just keep my head down. Keep outlining. Rewrite. Revise. After I revise the 50k words I have and after I write about 40k more I suppose it will be ready for Alpha readers! And then Beta readers (if I can scrounge any of those up)! And then rejection letters! Oh, so many rejection letters. Really, brain? This is what you came up with? This is what you like to do? I mean, that being the case, would you mind rewiring yourself, so that you force me to sit down and just type away every single night? Could you do that for me? Because you've already wasted most of my 20's getting yourself boozed up and too drunk to write. Not that I minded, that was fun, but of course, it was all in your service anyway. Figure your shit out, brain.
Ok, back to it. Sorry for that, I needed to look at something else for a bit.
I am having trouble seeing the bigger picture. Is this fucking thing any good or what? How do I make it better? And it's not at the point yet where anyone can read it. It's a jumble, I know that. So I'm stuck in my own head, trying to figure out how to position these pieces that I have so that they're just right. I'm stuck with a stack of papers that is laughing at me. Saying, "You fell apart at page 38 and you never got your shit back together, man. What were you thinking?"
Ugh. You shut up too, papers, or you and Qui-Gon and I are going out back. I guess I really need to just keep my head down. Keep outlining. Rewrite. Revise. After I revise the 50k words I have and after I write about 40k more I suppose it will be ready for Alpha readers! And then Beta readers (if I can scrounge any of those up)! And then rejection letters! Oh, so many rejection letters. Really, brain? This is what you came up with? This is what you like to do? I mean, that being the case, would you mind rewiring yourself, so that you force me to sit down and just type away every single night? Could you do that for me? Because you've already wasted most of my 20's getting yourself boozed up and too drunk to write. Not that I minded, that was fun, but of course, it was all in your service anyway. Figure your shit out, brain.
Ok, back to it. Sorry for that, I needed to look at something else for a bit.
Monday, August 11, 2014
The Death of a Legend
So now Robin Williams is dead. He was 63. Facebook overflows with sympathy. Everyone loved the crazy son of a bitch, and for good reason. When I was growing up, he was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood and he consistently put out some top notch work. His filmography reads like a study in keeping fresh. Comedy, drama, psych thriller, he was unstoppable. Delivered some of the best goddamn lines of a generation.
The guy understood how to leave a legacy, I'll give him that. None of this live hard die young crap. He lived hard and died before he got too old. Maybe he'd had enough. Not for me to say. All I know is that any time I see his movies now, they'll have a little bit of a different resonance.
Shit, right now, people are rewatching his classics. I know this, because it's posted all over the goddamn Internet. And you know what they're doing? Crying at the same time that they laugh at all the funniest parts. Because they can't ever see that brand of genius again. They won't be able to be surprised by the weird and brilliant acting that he became known for.
His movies will be shown to children and grandchildren. He will be lauded as a legend. Hell, he already is. But we don't get any more. It's done. It's over.
I don't know. It's late and I can't go on too much longer. And besides, this isn't anything. This is just a shittily written, barely edited blog article. I can't write this kind of stuff, not well anyway. But I had to write something. This is the same thing that millions of people are doing in their own way right now, and for once, I feel the need to join them. So, I raise a figurative final toast to one of the most influential entertainers of my childhood.
Robin Williams has checked out for good and left us all standing on our desks.
The guy understood how to leave a legacy, I'll give him that. None of this live hard die young crap. He lived hard and died before he got too old. Maybe he'd had enough. Not for me to say. All I know is that any time I see his movies now, they'll have a little bit of a different resonance.
Shit, right now, people are rewatching his classics. I know this, because it's posted all over the goddamn Internet. And you know what they're doing? Crying at the same time that they laugh at all the funniest parts. Because they can't ever see that brand of genius again. They won't be able to be surprised by the weird and brilliant acting that he became known for.
His movies will be shown to children and grandchildren. He will be lauded as a legend. Hell, he already is. But we don't get any more. It's done. It's over.
I don't know. It's late and I can't go on too much longer. And besides, this isn't anything. This is just a shittily written, barely edited blog article. I can't write this kind of stuff, not well anyway. But I had to write something. This is the same thing that millions of people are doing in their own way right now, and for once, I feel the need to join them. So, I raise a figurative final toast to one of the most influential entertainers of my childhood.
Robin Williams has checked out for good and left us all standing on our desks.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
A Briefer History of Time
Time is a thing that nags at me. It tickles my ear with a wheat stalk just when I'm not suspecting it. It pokes me in the back of the knee and buckles my legs just when I've shifted all my weight to that side. Time is a thief. It steals vitality. It steals health and stamina and certainty. Time funnels us all, one by one from present into history. It is uncaring, unceasing and most of all unconditional. You will lose to time just as we all will. You don't even have to know you're competing with it. You will lose.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Friday, August 1, 2014
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