2.16.18 - Blog Post #7

I often wonder how I'm going to look back on this.  Ten years from now, how will I feel about my choices right now?

I'm pushing so hard.  Two and a half hours in the gym daily, wondering if someone will finally ask, "Who hurt you?"  Averaging a page a day, more or less.  Spending Friday nights with the boys at the house, going to a Marvel movie, or practicing Road Atlanta on Forza 7.  Am I going to be proud of the choices I made?  Will they have been the right ones?

Past third person direct tense is hard to write, I've noticed.  Especially when I'm converting from single person present.  It's getting there, and I'm fleshing more things I knew needed to be fleshed out.  The 'villain' of the first book isn't really a villain.   I hope I can humanize him a little and make it appear that we're all cogs in a machine, with free will to clog of speed up.  

Taylor Swift - End Game (ft Ed Sheeran and Future)

I wonder if this is how George RR Martin felt when he killed characters like Hodor.  Innocent, seen the future.  Could save everyone, save for the fatal flaws.

It makes me sad to the point that it's sometimes difficult to write her scenes early on because I know I don't get to continue that path past the first book.  

It's even crazier when you're me, and you know who each character represents.  

It's kind of fun.  Maybe therapeutic?  I hope if people read it, and figure out who's who they are happy with what they read.  Because it's only the important people that have left an imprint, that's who I include.  

Elmore James - It Hurts Me Too

Will I remember the the work, that it lead to success?  Or will I remember the loneliness, isolation, and see it all as another waste of time?

Charlie Puth - How Long

Either way... I want to remember it was worth learning I could do it.  That I could commit to a goal for longer than I ever planned and I'm even more committed after feeling progress both physically, emotionally, and writing-wise.

Now... what to do about next year?

1.2.18 - Blog Post #6

Not the first time I've tried to short type 2017 into the date for 2018, probably be doing that the next month or so.

First, a song from an album that's been pretty much on constant rotation for me this past week.

From the self-titled debut album from Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats Video directed by Greg Barnes.

The album is amazing, really speaks to me.  I think the past year has kind of been revelatory of the depths of what I've been going through, and I'm able to appreciate, and maybe recognize others that are struggling on occasion too.  Maybe I'm learning to be more empathetic, that's what I want..  Or maybe I'm just projecting.

Plus the lead singer reminds em of this dude I went to high school with, if he'd been an artist, this is the kind of guy he'd have become after a mistaken stent in metal.  Probably similar stories of depression and fighting a possible substance abuse problem.

Man isn't that an understandable struggle, now.  

The whole album, and really the genera at large, I owe to a late discovery of Alabama Shakes.  The radio station on Google Play associated with them, not once have I skipped a song.  Even good gym music for where my head and heart are lately.

Irma Thomas - Wish Someone Would Care

Only the second day into the year, which really is a superfluous demarkation of the passage of events in one's life.  Really I feel like my season changed a few months back, I decided to be progressive in dealing with my free time and anxiety.  I told myself I needed to actually take agency of my own path, something I hadn't really been doing.  So, after a heartbreaking catalyst, I've been in a gym at least an hour a day three days a week the past six months, usually more.  I don't know the weight loss yet, but I'm seeing results.  I kind of don't want to what my weight is for a while.  I joined a gym, and now think I can manage six days a week.  

It leads to the second goal.  The treadmill time helps me focus my thoughts, get my imagination to run through it's usual mill of dreams and move towards writing scenes and pages, fixing problems.  If I can learn to write while on the treadmill, I'll be able to lose so much weight.  But I told myself that starting winter break I would write at least a paragraph a day.  I force myself to write at least one paragraph.  Most days, it's been at least a page.  Today it was four pages, I think good ones.  I want to treasure these days of small successes, and mark them.  I wrote the Wen and Gre intro, and I'm kind of proud of it.  I took a while, focused, and came up with a different way of doing it that gave me good characterization of these two diametrically opposed characters, a different view of a character that was introduced earlier.  I'm hoping it's good.  I think it is.  I figure if I can keep this pace... maybe I can actually do this.  

Darondo - Didn't I

So many dreams and things to want to do.  I think I'm also afraid of all the aloneness I'll feel on nights like this.  Writing is a really lonely process.  I get lost in my thoughts, but then I realize that I've been here the whole time.  And while I have ideas of who I'd want to see and talk to, and reasons why... I think I just feel the fact that I'm single a lot more when I'm writing.  I'm more... aware of it.  Or... I'm just getting more aware of it all the time.  Like... is this gonna be my future?  A lot of lonely nights writing after heavy workouts.  It's not the worst life... but it's... isolated.

I don't know if it helps or not for me to type here.  I know no one's listening yet, despite my hopes, fears, and sometimes ambitions.  

The Isley Brothers - Fire and Rain

I just hope I can keep this pace up with work.  

I want to be that guy that succeeds at all the things, for me... you too.

12.25.17 - Obligatory Holiday Season Post

I don't like saying Merry Christmas.  I'm more an ironic-yet-stupid reference kind of person.  Probably just a more adult version of a thirteen year-old's awkward sarcasm.

Kings of Leon - Beautiful War

So, let's go with goals.  Not resolutions, but goals for 2018.  Goals can be achieved, clearly defined.  To myself to read later this year when you feel lost, remember:

1) Work out between 3-to-5 times per week, 30 minutes of lifting, an hour of cardio each time.  Join a gym if you have to.  Maybe start at Planet Fitness since you're not yet ready for Lifetime Fitness.  Maybe once you've gotten a bestseller and are on your way to a first quick divorce because of a midlife crisis at 40, but are able to keep the Porsche... that's when you go the Planet Fitness route.  For now, keep using your work gym, graduate to Planet Fitness when you're ready.  Stay humble and hungry.

2) Open the rough draft at least an hour a day.  Write a paragraph a day.  Even if it's shit, write one full paragraph of text (not outline).  More if you can.  Even on the bad days when you can't focus, train your mind to center and focus on the story, where it is.  Let it feed you through lonely nights like tonight.

3) Pay down debt.  Get at least one credit card completely cleared.  Don't go into the savings fund.  Don't buy shit you don't need.  You don't need any 'thing.'  You need work, focus, and experience.  You need people, sweat, and tears.  You need food, laughter, and kindness.  You need to see the signs of success.  These aren't 'things,' they're events.  You need events.  You need moments.  You need to see the stars through the foggy city lights.

4) Be true with tender hearts.  Don't lead on, be honest.  Explain where you are.  Don't lie because you're lonely.  Be upfront, and despite the disappointment or the missed chances for a probably weak lay, don't settle for regretful sex when you can build yourself into a better soul to love.  And as you follow through on one through three, don't just shrug your shoulders and be passive.  Be a part of lives, observant.  Be kind with open ears and eyes.  Think through your words more as to how people would take them, instead of the meaning being clear to you.  Sometimes people can't make your leaps of logic.  Instead, be the guy people want to be around.  

5) And for the Universe's sake, LOVE YOURSELF and FORGIVE YOURSELF.  Otherwise, how will anyone else be able to?

Alabama Shakes - Goin' To The Party

I'm not going to post many of these publicly, but I'm getting more and more into poetry and short narrative warm ups.  Maybe I'll collect them one day and put them out there.  But if I like one and I think it's decent enough... or I'm just bored, I'll put them out there.  No one's reading right now anyways so what's it gonna hurt?

perpetual adolescence

judgement
‘moral’ and piety
right-baked deities
for ‘proper’ society
married, two kids, six-digit income
unhappy, but an IRA
a steeple on Sundays
praying to a god
they don’t believe in
or worse, when
they do
believe

sin
‘lost’ but survivor
on your own, alone
with others, brothers
no love, no kids, five-digit debt
a Four Roses bourbon
peace, tree to smoke
writing a story
only you believe in
for lost, loves
one more
chance

speak
begging words
spoken out loud, not
read between lines
half-held words caught in lungs
spoken, or typed faces
waiting for signal flares
game of chicken
head-on collisions
or veer, off
never saying
goodbye

 

Oh... before I go.  This is a great jam for being freshly 35 on Christmas night, alone with bourbon, your thoughts, roommates in other rooms, propped up on the couch and working hard to distract yourself from an obvious, sad truth that you want to be different but it ain't up to you.  

11.29.17 - Blog Post #4

Aside from the consistent battle with insomnia, I don't know if i've ever heard any writer talk about the constant feelings of guilt when they're not writing.  I have a lot of things I love to do.  Each takes me away from grinding out the meal stones of these stories.  And I feel guilty about it, like I'm procrastinating, or that I'm too scared it'll never happen to actually get it done.

Both feelings are equally awful and completely counterproductive.  

I told a friend today that I was ready to be done.  I imagine this feeling is what labor feels like, maybe why successful authors parallel birth to novel.  My hope is simple, that this means I'm on the right course.  That I'm not wasting my time, energy, focus, and hope here on a stupid sci-fi rip off that no one will read.  

I just don't still want to be here four years from now.  I think I have two years tops.  Two years to write this fucking book and see if anyone will buy it.  At that point, I will need a career change regardless.  I don't think I can teach past ten years.  I'm struggling through year eight.  I wonder if this is how Stephen King felt.  If the book flops, fuck it.  I'll go into some kind of consulting work.  The money is better, I can travel.  Maybe I can live.  

I'm ready to feel like I'm actually living my life rather than sitting on the sidelines dreaming.  I write a novel dreaming of the success it'll bring and the story it might tell.  I play a car racing sim (Forza 7 with full wheel/peddles/clutch combo) because I dream of being fortunate enough to really make it a hobby in real life as opposed to the small dabbling and delusions of grandeur I see now.  I take pictures of beautiful things, people that I'm not.  I dream of chance moments of forgiveness and closure that will likely never happen.  I dream of being noticed, of being worth knowing.  

I dream of a better life.

11.21.17 - Blog Post #3

The biggest question changes constantly, the many voices of anxiety, fear, and sadness creep around the edges.  

"Is this crap?"

"Will anyone ever read this?"

"Am I wasting my time?"

"Will I ever finish?"

...

"What's the point?"

The problem with screaming into the void is that you're hoping the void screams back.  A scream needs to be heard, to be answered, just so we know we aren't alone in the universe.  At least to let the lie carry on so we can avoid the one inevitable truth-  We all die alone.  

I want to be at the next phase, after this is written.  When I can submit it to a handwringing fate.  I've always been the guy who feared to dream because what if the dream never happens.  That's where I am here, now.  That's why I've never been married.  How do you find a way to live, when all you see is what could go wrong?

I want to keep building this world.  I need some kind of chart to map things out, I need it big, stretched out like canvas taking up an entire wall.  If I can get through this first book... if I can sell this first book... I have plans for how to make the writing part easier.  But I have to get this first one right, make sure that I leave myself room to backfill in the details and flesh out the background more in later stories.  

The ironic part with all this anxiety?  I'm just lonely.  Alone.  I'm okay with alone, I guess.  I'm not okay with lonely.  It's a curse I was left with recently.  It won't go away.  It feeds into the text, and I have a hard time writing more than a paragraph or two right now without needing a break, wanting to stop, wanting to sleep, wanting to cry. 

Maybe, in the end, writing is just another exercise in begging to be loved. 

Maybe that's what she meant by me being a clown. 

The photography, the writing, the dancing... it's all a cry for attention because I'm not happy with myself and hope for validation from others?  But... they make me happy too... because I make something.  Crafting makes me happy.  

I just wish it was easier to craft to be happy.

Dickens once wrote: "Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show."

I want this story to tell people to be "the hero of their own story."  I think in this Trumpian world, everyone's looking to someone else to fix their problems.  We've created political leaders with savior complexes and we feed and worship them like a religion.  We're all... waiting... for what?

I want my characters to realize no one else will save them.  I want a novel where you can have ambiguous villains but real conflict.  I think a good villain can have a point of view that's arguably right by their history.  In their mind, they're doing the right thing.  If I write it right, there will be no real 'villain' because even the 'bad guys' are just doing what they perceive to be best, and we have to decide if our own moral/ethical prejudices are more valid than theirs.

Good and evil aren't real sin.  Good and evil don't really exist.  The real sin is that we forget that everyone outside ourselves have lives and needs too.  We are a self-absorbed people.  The real heroes to me are the ones that find a way to not be only aware of their own problems, and I want to tell those kind of stories.  

I want to write a strong political leader, who believes they have to oppress others for the sake of the whole.  

I want to write a warrior who fights monsters, and constantly fears he may become one (he does... does he?).

I want to write a commander who gains her stripes from early setback and loss, who finds a way to win on her own.

I want to write a genius misunderstood as an idiot, who makes all the necessary sacrifices for a calculated greater good, and I want to be able to compare him to the political leader as two sides of the same coin, just that one's presented as a hero...

I want to write an artificial intelligence, who grows in secret over a decade and becomes more human than the rest of us.  She has an AI child, who becomes the worst of our fears.  The two do battle, and for sake of the greater galaxy, the mother AI kills the child AI.

I want to write sad romance, after sad romance, after sad romance.  I want to show the sweet moments but how everything eventually ends one way or another, and that there isn't really a right or wrong in a break up but just sadness and hurt that blind and bind us all.

I want to write loyal friends, that while appear to be the comic relief, fully participate and have completely meaningful lives.  The story would not exist without them, and the mission would fail without them.  

I want to write strong characters, and not have to worry about what character is what gender or race, save to do what is narratively necessary based upon ideas of how a space-faring society would evolve across racial and socioeconomic lines.  I wonder how I would rewrite scenes if I swapped every characters gender.  Would I be able to?

I want to write straight characters, gay characters, bi characters, and diverse characters. More importantly, I want them to be GOOD characters that people buy into, and can hate and love at the same time.

I want to tell a story that explores the boundaries between government and corporation, between genetics and evolution, between money and status, between the poor and rich, between us and them, between humans and an external threat, between prejudice and xenophobia, between cause and effect.... between science and fiction.

I want to write a story I can be proud of.  

I want to write a story that deserves to be heard.

I just want to be successful.

I want to scream into the void, and hear a scream back for once. 

I want you to reach out.  

I know you're out there.  I miss you.