When crickets do business.

Night... clubbin'...

2010-07-28T09:33:00.000-07:00

I've spent most of the summer in ways that I cannot account for. There has been lots of work at my job, exceptional amounts of work at home (giving my creative space the overhaul I mentioned a while back). I got rid of a lot of clutter in my room, house, etc. Oh, and I've been playing an MMORPG for those times I can't think. I burned myself pretty hard. This summer has been like the burn ward for me... not a lot of movement, just recovery.

I've written some stories, done some revisions, sent a piece or two out... but I can't think during the summer. I have a supremely difficult time having meaningful, focused "brain sessions" due to the oppressive heat, obnoxious humidity, painful sunlight, and miserable allergens. It has been... lame.

I hold a small, decorative but simple package in my heart. Inside is the thought that I will, someday soon, return to a climate I can live in. These moldy, air-conditioned caves are beyond intolerable. But, you know, that's just me being bitter. I've been sick because of it, and possibly because of the stress caused by it. Self-perpetuating problems. Hm.

I have a pretty challenging semester ahead of me... although I anticipate that it will be a more clear-cut level of activity when compared to last semester, which was a storm of things to do falling all around me like rain drops. I'll be spending some significant time studying Faulkner, which will be excellent, I'm sure.

I've also had some freelance video work recently, which is always nice in terms of extra cash. We're going to Quebec in September and early October (for my birthday), so being able to afford that, and being able to get a little out of debt would be nice. Getting out of debt is very much a forefront desire in my mind right now, at least out from under debt not related to school and/or the house.

I applied for a few writing opportunities this year and nothing panned out... internships, etc. That happens sometimes. Possibly, if I were more prolific they would pan out. Perhaps if I were a better writer they'd have taken me. Oh, but I'm a fine writer... just have been disillusioned recently. Last time I read to an audience I was was met with a... tepid response. I'm finding brain space, though, out of necessity. When I don't write much, the stories start brimming over in my head. That's the tough thing about writing, or being open to it... after a while you can't not write.

Once you feed that dragon, it comes home and lives with you. It takes up a lot of space, changes how you do things. "I'd change this around, but the FRIGGIN DRAGON IS IN THE WAY." "I'd move to a smaller place, but WHERE WILL I PUT THIS DAMNED DRAGON?"

I've been overhauling my website, too. I decided to go with a content management system this time around instead of just building it with straight HTML and/or a Dreamweaver template. The process of learning content management systems for this site and another project I'm working on (a new literary journal... online... ooh ahh, more about that another time) has helped me update my web knowledge. I was tragically behind with very little understanding of PHP or CSS. I'd say I know a bit more now. Maybe I'll buy a book. Maybe an eBook. E-BOOK.

That is all... for now.

ULTIMATELUVKRUSH28.COM at Annalemma.net

2010-04-28T11:24:00.000-07:00

My short fiction piece "ULTIMATELUVKRUSH28.COM" is the web feature this week at Annalemma Magazine (annalemma.net). I found out it would be up there a few weeks back, but was holding off announcing it until it was actually up. But, it's actually up now. So, go read it! Go! What are you waiting for? Oh, a link? Head over to annalemma.net

Or, click here to go directly to the story where it will be archived.

Thanks to Chris and everyone at Annalemma for continuously publishing great web features, and for considering my work good enough to appear up there. Also thanks to Andy Luce/Visual Armory for the sweet graphic work.

And thanks to you, blog reader, for being awesome and reading my blog.

More Missing Months

2010-04-12T22:04:00.000-07:00

So, I didn't post in March. I have my reasons, of course. I turned around today and realized that freaking April is nearly half over too, so I wanted to pop in and make a quick post.

This semester has been trying to say the least. I've probably said that already before, so bla bla bla. It might be less than meaningless. I have been through some lows this spring that I have not known in some time. It has affected my writing, sadly. I haven't been at a loss for subject matter, ultimately, just lack of time to sit down and bang away. I've pecked a bit, which works, but I ache for more productivity, less bummitude where only dark unfocused things come from. I'll have time and brainspace soon, maybe.

It's a good time for gadgets. I like the iPad, but recognize that it doesn't seem to have massive appeal....... Yet. Apple has a way of making life appear bleak without their flagship product. Never count them out.

I've been playing my bass regularly and revamping my rig, which has been fun spare-time (ha!) material. The bass has always been one of my favorites, and is probably the one I'm best at, if that means anything. So far, have an old Ampeg half-cab that my brother-in-law gave me, and am grabbing an amp head soon (used). Next, I'm selling a less used synth for a new bass. I was debating which one to go for, but ultimately, the classic Fender standard Jazz is the best option. It's got the sound, the flexibility, etc. Good stuff. It'll be great for recording or just playing.

Still waiting for final details on new pub, still waiting for feedback/responses on two solicited subs, and just sorta waiting in general right now. Waiting. I get some if my best ideas while I'm waiting.

Pity.

2010-02-25T21:39:00.001-08:00

I needed coffee. The lines in the book were blurring, and I couldn't get but half of the sentences into my brain in any meaningful way.

The small latte cart in the library is a sort of obscene luxury. It made the library feel perverted, like a phone booth in a graveyard, like a dumpster in a nursery, like a cellphone tower in a church steeple. I only bought there out of necessity, having timed my reading down to 1.15 minutes per page, leaving myself just enough time to slam the book closed and run into the classroom before the door closed.

I picked my standard Soy Vanilla Latte, a treat I rarely indulged in anymore since the stomach problems became overwhelming. While the barista cashier steamed away at the Soy Milk, I stared at the allergen information on the backs of the colorful little packages of snacks. I sorted them into two categories: a.) Dairy/Wheat/Verboten, b.) Bland but acceptable. Selecting a cruel mixture of unsalted mixed nuts, shaved coconut, and dried raisins, I stood by the counter with my credit card balanced on the pages of my book, taking in the scent of the old pages mixed with the over-roasted beans.

She set the cardboard cup down with its "ooh"-ing mouth sighing steam into 72 degree air.

"$5.82," she said, tapping the touchscreen of the register.

I held out my card, but didn't look up, and she took it without looking over.

"Now," she mentioned, "my machine has been having connection problems all day, so let me try this." She swiped the card through the reader, and an ominous window popped up. "Still acting up," she said. "There should be a sign over there warning people about it." She craned her neck around the edge of her register to look at the front of the coffee cart where no sign sat except the one with the prices of different cafe concoctions. "I guess they didn't put it up."

She stared at my coffee, the small trail mix, and then back up at me. I closed my book.

"Do you have any other form of payment?"

I stared at my card, still held in her right hand.

"No," I said. My pocket cash was gone from last night's trip to the next nearest major metro for a big game.

"Well, there's supposed to be a sign."

I nodded. I shrugged. I wasn't sure what else to do.

"Well, you can have the coffee, but I can't give you this," she said, lifting the package of fruit and nuts off of the counter and placing it out of reach. I watched it float away.

"Alright," I said, "thanks. If the machine begins working again, will you please let me know? I'd like to pay for these," I said, indicating the coffee and the now distant trail mix.

She nodded, and I turned to go back to my seat, flopping the book back open on my lap.

Coffee will do, that's all I really needed anyway. She was nice to let me have it. Who drinks soy milk if they don't have to?

I sipped the coffee, letting the subtle vegetation flavor in the foam rest on the broad part of my tongue, a ritual I usually engaged in with lattes to check that it was truly made without dairy. I guessed that's where I could taste the milk sugars. There were none.

I read a passage in which the character was considering raping a woman, probably not seriously. I scanned the lines, flicking my eyes over his scattered thoughts. His logic was flawed, but so was the situation, so it was hard to hold him in any low regard, or in any high regard.

The cashier leaned in over my shoulder, and I looked up at her over my glasses. She held out the trail mix, and I regarded it.

"One of the students over there wanted to buy this for you," she said, a faint smile on her face.

"Oh," I said. I leaned out to peer beyond the cashier. She glanced over her shoulder and back quickly.

"They wanted it to be anonymous," she said.

"Oh," I said. I bit my lower lip. "Thanks," I said, "that's really nice."

She nodded, smiling openly now.

Someone had done a good deed, and she had gotten to be a part of it.

I slid the package onto the small wooden table on which my coffee sat and stared at it. It had filberts in it. My father is allergic to filberts. I wondered how many filberts were in it. Probably only a few. I couldn't see any through the tree-shaped window on the bag. It was a tropical mix, apparently. It was manufactured in a plant that also processed dairy, wheat, tree nuts, and soy.

I felt my blush rise, my face going horribly red the way it always does when I get that pressure down to the tip of my nose, or when I'm drinking.

I wondered if the student who bought it realized I was a student, too. A Junior getting a late start in a formal education. I wondered if they thought I was one of the public visitors to the school's library, doing research, or just using the computers to check my email. I wondered if they thought I was one of the homeless men who sometimes visited the library to read the news online.

I straightened my collar, and brushed some of the cat fur off of the cuff of my sweater. There was so much of it, now that I was looking. I wondered if they thought my card was declined. I wondered if they were sitting over there at their table feeling good about themselves, feeling like they did someone a favor. If they were, I knew they would carry that goodness in their pocket for the rest of the night, and finger it under their pillow as they drifted off to sleep, a satisfied smile on their lips.

I opened the bag and ate a raisin. Shame swelled in my chest. I had wanted to pay. I was waiting to pay. I had the ability. I wasn't needy, I didn't ask for this charity. I didn't want it.

I had walked into the library with a sweater I bought in an English Sports shop in Bermuda, the same place that outfitted gentlemen with cricket whites. I wore a pair of designer jeans, my favorite leather sneakers, and a brand new snap-brimmed hat. I was on top of things, all about my business. I had known I was classy and smart.

Now my pride was limping, nursing a blow to the upper thigh.

I wondered if they were praising themselves right now for being a good citizen. I wondered if they were picturing me eating handful after handful, the first food I had eaten in 3 days, my stomach greedily lurching at nutrition.

I thought about setting the bag of fruit and nuts on the table and leaving, but instead I took a bite of shredded coconut, ate an almond, a date piece, a chunk of papaya. Soon all that remained in the bag was the single filbert I had been warned about. I pulled it from the small tear I had made in the bag, and stared at it.

Filberts are ugly. They're hard, and they have no moisture in them. They crumble into dust in your mouth, and they smell like that Belgian chocolate that always gives me a headache.

I placed the filbert on my molars, and bit down, feeling it shatter.

I pictured them watching me crunching the nut I typically avoid, though I've never had an adverse reaction to it. I pictured them staring across the room at me, one pair of anonymous eyes keeping vigilant watch over their ward, placing their hand over their mouth, and smiling as I brought each bite to my mouth. I pictured them lifting their eyes up to the heavens and blinking reverently, thinking of that piteous fellow who had his heart set on trail mix.

There, but for the grace of God, go I.

43 seconds left and only 31 shots on goal.

2010-02-16T21:13:00.000-08:00

I've realized recently that my home workspace (office/studio/whatever it might be called) has not really been conducive to inspiration of any manner. It needs an overhaul. Either that, or I do. My brain has not been able to be so focused as I'd like it to... or it has, and there has just been so much to focus on that I'm mistaking a general inability with a specific, recent collection of too-much-to-do.

I've been given an other opportunity to have my fiction published. I'm not saying where just yet (not until the details are completely firmed up), but it is a fairly young journal, definitely aesthetically pleasing, and recently gaining notoriety and recognition. Anyway, my work will be a web feature as they are currently between themed print editions. I'll share a link here and on my site when the time arrives.

I think you'll enjoy the piece.

Nota Bene PDF available for download.

2010-02-03T10:48:00.000-08:00

The 2009 edition of Nota Bene (in which I have two pieces) is available for download.

You can acquire it here.

Thanks for everyone who has contacted me with supportive messages. You guys are upstanding, notable persons.

For the record.

2010-01-29T14:12:00.000-08:00

I got my 2009 Nota Bene (the Anthology I'm in) yesterday in the mail. It looks nice.

As soon as they post the anthology online (they usually do in PDF form) I'll add a link to the site, and probably add the pieces up there on the site too, since they're out anyway.

In the meantime, check your local Community College library for the business.

Everything else is going well. I'm playing sports again (bizarre ones... it seems I'm attracted to unusual sports), going to a few concerts, and figuring out what I want to do for my 30th Birthday. Maybe Bermuda? Maybe Tokyo? Maybe I can barely afford either and should be saving my money for grad school?

Refined and cultured... but not, like, in the "monocles and walking sticks" way.

2010-01-05T07:48:00.000-08:00

I've been of the opinion for quite sometime that one should only define themselves as a writer if, in fact, they write... and regularly. This does not excuse my lack of a November and December 2009 posts, but I must confess I found myself overwhelmed with the end-of-the-semester flurry of exams, term papers, projects, fiction revisions, work, preparing for vacation, and other lifestyle changes (we got a dog, for instance).

Anyway, I'll just assume I'm forgiven. Onward then.

A friend and fellow writer asked me, recently, how my previous semester went, in terms of fiction critiques/workshopping, etc., and in summarizing it for him, I was struck by a few thoughts that I should probably share.

First, everyone who has workshopped fiction or had their fiction workshopped has likely realized that you cannot please everyone (and, in some cases, anyone). I was thinking about how one person might assert that a particular story speaks deeply about some social situation, while another person reading the same story might think of it as being hackneyed. How does one respond to polar criticism?

They think of it as opposing breezes. A breeze is nice, sure, and it may cool you or warm you temporarily, but breezes are only trickles of air. Breezes don't fill your sails. The winds, though, can catch those wide canvasses and can take you magnificent places... and no one man makes the wind. Also, if they wind isn't heading where you want, you can draw those sails back in and weather the storm... or just see where the winds take them, knowing that it is not necessarily the end of the journey.

There comes a point at which a writer must detach themselves from the academic umbilical cord and set out on their own journey toward realizing their fiction, honing it, and refining their skills. Ultimately, each writer must steer their own ship and find their own winds. The basic skills remain the sturdy foundations (and sometimes they require a return and re-examination), and there is certainly a constant learning process and growing process, but the journey is individual. I know mine has borne no resemblance to any other I've heard of.

Now, here's a broad, sweeping statement about art.

My opinion has always trended toward "technique" being the defining line between "art" and "expressed creative energy." This is why I don't typically appreciate Jackson Pollock work.

So, applying this model to writing, learning to create impressions deliberately, to alter moods with skill, to frame and craft everything as a function of your hand guiding the material rather than some external force influencing the ebb and flow of the fiction, or no force at all directing the lay of the words... these are the factors of the writing craft that will, at some point, bring a writer's skills into a new place, or into a new realm of refinement.

I've found a few books (oh no reading!!) specifically about the craft of writing that have been really useful in pointing toward the ultimate move toward deliberate creation.

...

Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft (Burroway, Stuckey-French, Stuckey-French)

This particular text has exceptional notes about sculpting fiction into something more refined, and makes a number of important points on the brick-and-mortar of the craft as well. Lovely in the book is the inclusion of specific examples from a number of stalwarts of Fiction. Though it is a "text book" in the traditional sense, I would say that it is well worth a read by any writer/author aspiring to be published.

...

Making Shapely Fiction (Stern)

This text is a fantastic tool for writers at varied points along their journey. I keep it around as a reference text, for that is how it approaches the craft of fiction, at least in one section - it takes common fiction terminologies and defines them in such a way that the definitions simultaneously provide direct information to the uninitiated while lending inspiration to the already informed. There are exercises which are useful as well, a general treatise on the process of writing, and considerations of common snags that writers have experienced. Again, a good reference for beginners or for seasoned scribes looking for a "back to basics" type of inspiration.

...

Hooked: Write Fiction That Grabs Readers at Page One & Never Lets Them Go (Edgerton)

Though I must confess that I have never read this book from cover to cover, I have personally picked up a number of good tips from it on beginnings, which, in terms of getting published, are so very damned important. Is it an essential text for everyone? Not necessarily, but if you have trouble building front-end hammers, you may find something of use here.

...

Of course, there are so many texts out there that proclaim they are an essential reference for the aspiring writer, but one might be wise to carefully select the texts to which they pay heed... even these ones I've listed can be overbearing to the writer who has yet to develop a personal direction. Read lightly, in other words, and love those tips that you find that sing to your spirit.

Remember, also, that the best education comes from simply doing the thing... write, submit, share, participate. Don't forget to read books by other authors, and read broadly (get out of your "genre"), and consider what you've read, and don't feel compelled to like every novel, short story, or poem you come across.

Also, there is so much more.

A quick link.

2009-10-18T07:24:00.000-07:00

Another press release regarding Nota Bene, this one from my former school, mainly talking about the publication related to my work in it. I'm dodging saying "this one is about me" because I'm all modest and whatnot.

http://valenciacc.edu/news/news_detail.cfm?ArticleID=285

Learning to be quiet...

2009-10-09T12:40:00.000-07:00

I'm learning to be quiet right now. It's harder than it sounds...

We are living in an increasingly techno-centric society, and are finding our attention divided into smaller, and smaller portions, with smaller and smaller amounts of time to devote to each portion. Workplaces are expecting higher and higher output while providing fewer and fewer opportunities for advancement, and raises.

Humanity is moving toward the brink of a system-wide nervous breakdown.

What are you doing to counteract it?

I'm learning to be quiet right now. It's harder than it sounds...

Especially when my cellphone keeps going off, and my computer is beeping at me, and the TV screens are telling me what to buy and watch and listen to and live for, and the radio is blaring at me. Our incredibly high concentration of communication is creating people who are unable to communicate, and we are, in essence, backsliding into the dark ages again.

What are you doing to counteract it?

I'm learning to be quiet right now. It's harder than it sounds...

"Multitasking" is one of the most egregiously terrible myths that has been perpetuated on society, and it is high time that people were aware that it is, in fact, impossible to multi-task. We simply rob from the quality of execution of one task with our poor, half-hearted efforts toward another. We're reducing our over all quality while doing more simultaneously. The entirety of the quality of work is reduced further as this myth continues to be spread as a buzzword throughout society, the job market, and the home life.

What are you doing to counteract it?

I'm learning to be quiet right now. It's harder than it sounds...

It involves taking the time to not have pressing tasks forcing one into slathering one's effort thinly across too large a canvas. It requires a devotion to being the best of what you are. It assumes a faith that you can thrive in the silence, and that your small inner voice, quieted by being daily shouted down by the adrenaline and energy drinks coursing through your veins, will learn to speak again.

What are you going to do about it?

I'm learning to be quiet right now. It's harder than it sounds.

The Link to the Press Release

2009-10-02T13:01:00.001-07:00

Here's the Press Release for the 2009 edition of the Nota Bene Anthology:

http://www.ptk.org/news/pr/8906

There it is. I'm still jazzed.

Publishingsings

2009-09-28T09:24:00.000-07:00

My first internationally published pieces are coming out before the end of the year. I just found out a week or so ago. They haven't officially announced it yet, so I'll not say where, but it is an academic journal that receives submissions from many places across the world and mainly ends up in College Libraries, and the like. Sure, it isn't a professional journal, but as a student still in my undergrad, that's an absolutely peachy opportunity as far as I'm concerned. Two of my pieces will be featured in there: "The Boxer" and "Uncle Benny," for which I was also given an award and scholarship.

Other than being published in my local/school literary magazine (Mosaic), and my journalistic stuff which has appeared in mainly local outlets, this is my first publication. I am excited. Ever since winning that award last year I have been waiting for an opportunity like this.

Here's to my work finding a larger audience so more people can be warped by my point of view. I'm laughing at this point. I'm laughing!

Tomorrow is my birthday... number 29. I'm still young, I suppose. I still feel young, I guess... or anyway I still feel green.

I'm applying to a few literary seminars/workshops in the near future, so keep your fingers crossed (or other superstitious signals of good wishes) for me if you read this.

Rollins has been excellent so far. I've got my first actual workshop on student work this evening... and I volunteered to be in the first batch. Here's hopin' for some good notes from my classmates!

For the love of reading.

2009-08-28T06:07:00.001-07:00

Today marks the final day of "Reading Rainbow," a delightful show about reading books hosted by LeVar Burton.

A report on NPR this morning described how children's television programmers have fundamentally re-written the book on educational television shows related to reading. The new focus is simple - the mechanics: phonics, letters, etc.

My question is, what about the JOY of reading? We're ready to teach kids all about how to read, but not WHY to read. Is the point not enticing a future generation with one of the great human art forms, one of the necessities of life, one of the things that gives power to the people?

In an age when we are already seeing declines in recreational reading, business reading, and are seeing corresponding educational difficulties... why would we volunteer to neglect to demonstrate to children that reading is exciting? Have people already forgotten that movable type printing made it possible to communicate with each other in times of difficulty, and that reading was reserved before ONLY for the upper classes? It seems we are heading in that direction once again!

Of course, there must be some sort of response to this shameful course of action. Everyone who can, volunteer to read to children in some place - the local book store, daycare center, library, or community center. If no one shows a kid that reading is exciting, the chances of them discovering it on their own... are not so good.

I recall the community centers and libraries of my youth in New England. There were films, books, excitement... a place where a child would genuinely enjoy their time around books, and in books. We learned to love the written word not for the power it gave us, but for the places it took us. We had, always, a secret world at our fingertips... a secret power to travel wherever the words and our minds could take us. It is a joy we have NEVER forgotten, and whey I, personally, sit down to read today, I travel through those brambles to the mindscape within every single time.

We must help the next generation see the joy of stories.

The Writing Class

2009-08-26T20:19:00.000-07:00

The Writing Class. Those with disposable time which we fill with recording our thoughts, creating witty anecdotes, etc. You'd know if you were a member.

Well, I started at Rollins. It seems like it will be an intellectually challenging environment. I am a little concerned that there is no devoted literary magazine published on campus, but I have some ideas about that. (Edit: Actually, there is!! Specs Journal, it's called. I'm totally gonna go volunteer).

Every once in a while, as I sit in one of those hot Florida classrooms, I think to myself "this is not New York," and get a little twinge of regret, but those might be getting smaller. It's just time to focus and learn as much as I can again... get to business, and bear in mind where I am going. Everything on the school front moves that direction.

Of course, there is a fundamental issue with the full-time work, full-time school scenario... and it isn't that I'll be too busy to do anything socially (I am terribly unsociable, or asocial if you will). I am concerned that as I delve further into English that my job, which juts out in another direction, will become less satisfying to me on a weekly basis. I suppose that's all up to me, ultimately.

My birthday is next month. I'll be 29. No laments there, I just need to keep working. I hate inspirational quotes, and typically think people who regurgitate "ancient parables" and "snippets of wisdom" sound like jackasses (with a very few exceptions), but it has been said that most people quit their efforts just before they break. I have no idea how long it will be before I experience any sort of break, or if I will experience some sort of break, but I am going to keep working like it is just over the next hill.

A few days in to classes and I'm filled with inspiration, hope, and... a little bit of fire.

As they say at Rollins, "Fiat Lux."

Indeed.

Where you're headed?

2009-07-28T20:48:00.001-07:00

I have been meeting some phenomenal fiction critique-givers this semester. It's almost like they have an instant sense for what a piece needs to bump it up to another level... an instinct. So much good advice.

Each of them is, or has been at one time, a total moron when it comes to their own work.

I don't mean that in a derogatory sense. I mean that it is nearly impossible to apply the same cunning instinct that is normally applied to the critiquing process to one's own work... at first. I've seen it over and over again, especially with myself. I might spend a whole afternoon with my editing pencil out, crafting and reworking, only to have a massive restructuring suggested by my classmates... and find myself actually agreeing that it is the best course of action. Granted, I can't say that every workshop I've ever been in offered the same level of useful advice, nor would I say that I take every bit of advice offered in the most serious light... but the point is that I'm getting critique that I find useful from my classmates, and they seem to pull it out of thin air. And, I find that I am offering the same useful level of critique to them, possibly aiding them in shaping these pieces.

That's the power of a good workshop group.

I think that's the whole point of workshopping your pieces... not necessarily just to get advice on a specific piece, but to get closer to having that instant sense on your own work... to step away from it, look at it objectively, and be able to see the things you see in someone else's work... better organization, specific phrasing, the points you're making and how they might be more effective... these little details.

I'm not sure if other workshoppers would agree with me on this, but I feel very strongly that this is one of the most useful things I'm getting out of the process. I really am examining my own work differently now, taking it apart more, building it back up differently. Maybe it's coming out less awkwardly in the first place, too? Still, have to be careful to not be too careful when I'm there with the pen and the pad. Can't gum up those works... it has to come out after all.

I'm excited to move forward with the next few years of school. There is truly so much left to learn... but more importantly so much still to refine.

Hens that are French.

2009-07-20T19:10:00.001-07:00

I don't know when it happened exactly, but I realized recently that I no longer believe in the power of cinema where the participation in its creation is concerned.

Hear me out.

First, I should say that this has not always been the case for me.

Second, I feel it is fair to note that I don't think this is a permanent state for my opinions.

In all the time I spent learning how to edit a film, I never considered that the screenwriters themselves were clumsy story tellers, or that screenwriting was a less-than-optimal format for story telling. All the evidence was there, of course, but my appreciation for the facts of the situation has come much later when I could appreciate the craft a bit better.

How can I take a film edit seriously when the storyteller themselves is unsure of the way to approach the storytelling? I'm essentially attempting to arrange a visual collage of an inexpert tale... essentially inventing story where none exists, smoothing the cracks, making the writer better than the writer, perhaps, is.

As I transition in another direction in my life, moving more toward storytelling, I am acutely aware of the fact that I will need to minimize the amount of time I spend mucking about in other peoples' stories.

Everything with New York fell apart. I've recounted the story so many times at this point that I don't really feel like completely unfolding all of the details here (imagine Bunny from Ed Wood describing his trip to Mexico... "Oh, that.").

The pertinent facts: It was expensive (many 10's of thousands of dollars), it was mostly unsubsidized (we're not in a financial bracket that necessitates much aid by way of Federally subsidized loans), the jobs were thin on the ground, the opportunity to take care of our property here in Florida was not there, and there were a bunch of other issues and things that could have become issues. So, anyway... we're here still and will be for the next few years.

I try not to have too many mantras, but one I definitely say... "one must buy with credit what one cannot afford with value." When I say I couldn't afford it, I realize I could have borrowed all of the money to make it happen. That's not affording it, though. I'm aware of the challenges in the publishing industry currently.

I'm all set up to continue my education here in town. I think things will work out nicely at the school I'll be at. There is a good program there, and I met the head of the program. We got along nicely, and he seems very dedicated to making his department a very unique and high quality place to learn.

What more could you ask for?

Of course, we had so many things aimed in the direction of New York, so there are some concerns... like we sold the wife's car, and were in the process of selling mine. The result? I'm giving her mine (which was the newer one) and figuring out alternative means of transportation. So far, Bicycle, and possibly scooter to supplement. We can get by with one vehicle. We have before. And getting by with essentially "1.5" is feasible.

I'm using this opportunity to fulfill a dream I've had for years... getting a Vespa. I considered a vintage one at first, then a used modern 2-stroke version, then a knock-off (identical copy) 2-stroke from Genuine Scooters (Stella)... and finally settled on an S150 modern 4-stroke. This is sensible for me, the price is right, and its cheaper than another car.

Kudos to blogs like Scooter in the Sticks for reassuring me that daily commuting is possible no matter where you live and what conditions you might be confronted with.

Making the best of things... and why not?

Rhodia, Psychologist.

2009-06-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

I was thinking this morning, while driving to work, of a particularly embarrassing moment for me from my youth. We all have many such moments, I'm certain. This particular one was sports-related.

Anyway, I was wondering if seeing a psychologist would help lessen the impact of that embarrassment, that humiliation that still stings decades later. Isn't that what they do? Then again, I considered that my own coping mechanism, my writing, has probably saved me so much money on psycho-analysis. So in that sense, IT IS PAYING FOR ITSELF, HA HA HA. Papa tax-man would probably not appreciate my deducting Rhodia notebooks and fountain pen ink as "medical expenses" on my 1040 this coming year, though.

Finding different work is always such a gigantic pain in the neck. Sustaining one's self is the primary drain on that sustenance. We truly are locked in a never-ending cycle of self-preservation when we are the "working class."

Sloth Dynamics.

2009-06-05T05:50:00.000-07:00

This morning I stopped off at my favorite breakfast fast-food joint for a bite since we were out of powerbars (not a good substitute, I know, but I went for it anyway). I ordered my food and the young man behind the counter went about placing the order and preparing parts of it within his sphere of influence. He asked me how my day was, and I said "Well, I'm awake and nearly to work, so I suppose successful so far." He smiled.

I looked down next to the counter sat a small, leather or leatherette bound book of similar size and shape to a bible, but with the Marine Corps logo stamped on it in gold. The lad came back with my food, and I asked, "Did you join up?"

"Yes sir," he said, "October."

"Congratulations," I said.

He must have known I was never in any branch of the service. I'm not tall enough, not steely enough. I don't have "the look" in me. My military contracting barely counts for anything except that I know what it is like to frustrate the Generals of the 9th Army, and how tough it can be to talk sense to a Navy man.

Two days ago the plans for the next few years of my life unfolded in front of me.

Let me explain a bit, since I've been so "not open" in my chronicles of seeking further education. Since I was nearing the end of my time at my current school in Florida, I decided, in the Fall, to busy myself with a head-start on my future education plans. I'm a fairly dedicated student, and am focused on achieving and learning each subject I set out to become educated in, and I have been successful in this particular leg of my education in doing that. Most people would probably say I'm being modest in assessing things thusly - I've had a number of academic distinctions, have served as an officer in an academic honors organization, and have maintained a perfect GPA for the past 3 part-time years of school.

Regardless, my targets for further education in my chosen field (big surprise, English) were some of our nations best schools. I applied to Cornell, Columbia, Oberlin, Brown, and Yale. Yale was certainly my main target, and it was not because of my distaste for the other schools... certainly Oberlin, Brown, and Columbia all had HIGHLY regarded English programs, perhaps more highly regarded in many circles than Yale's (especially Columbia's), but Yale had writers I wanted to learn from, and an enticing environment to study in. The fact that it was one of the "three" (Harvard and Princeton being the other two, neither of which is accepting transfer students this year for various reasons, Princeton because they never do, and Harvard because they find themselves without the space) did not dissuade me in any way.

I was fairly hopeful about my chances, having received a number of good recommendations from people I respect, and crafting my essays in a very specific manner. In the end, I was called in for an interview. In the program I applied to, only about 1 in 5 people were called in for an interview - the rest were essentially rejected. So, I flew up to New Haven to interview, and it went well, I thought. Of course, you know where this is going from my "I thought" comment. They eventually said no. About 1 in 3 of the interviewees were accepted and I was not one of them.

Meanwhile, throughout this process, I received rejections from Cornell, Oberlin, Brown, and acceptances to the local schools I applied to (University of Tampa, University of Central Florida) and some other schools I thought looked interesting (The New School in New York, and their Riggio Writing Fellowship), but most interestingly was a rather quick and enthusiastic acceptance to Columbia.

Granted, some people argue that the program I got into is fundamentally different than the one people get into as Freshmen, but I'm after educational quality, not status. Though I may be the product of prep schools, I'm clearly not "that" anymore. I am and will remain a property owner. I've got more to worry about than I did at 19, though I so infrequently am relieved of that worry anymore. It fuels me to some degree, I suppose. Regardless, I'm heading to New York. We shall all clasp hands in glory by and by.

Our trip to the keys was impressive. We camped, we drove, we kayaked, ate fantastic pizza at the No Name Pub, visited Hemingway's house and his aloof descendants of his cats, saw a former Navy ship that was headed to the bottom about 6 miles offshore to become a reef soon (it has now been scuttled, coincidentally, the USS General Dwight Vandenburg, I believe was its name). There are so many more details and pictures, but I'll let those be elsewhere for the time being.

I didn't post in May. I did, though, graduate from a school in May. There's also a story behind that.

Yes, I am writing. I'm working on the book again. Shh, that's a secret.

Fortunes.

2009-04-20T08:53:00.000-07:00

I just had the fortune of hearing an interesting talk about a prominent media figure, and the talk focused on how he knew no other way than to inexhaustibly seek opportunities.

What a phenomenal lesson to take to heart, I think. I'm not really afraid of having nothing because I've had it before. I'm hopeful, but I'm not really afraid because when you have nothing you also have nothing to lose, and what power there is in that.

The wife and I are going camping in the Florida Keys in a few weeks to celebrate a milestone birthday, and my graduation from my current school (which will take place a few days before). I've spoken of all my intimidation about the ins and outs of whos and whats, etc. on into infinity, but I can feel myself becoming the arrow again.

I become the arrow sometimes. The arrow points in one direction, flies straight, and hits a target. I last became the arrow when we were attempting to buy a house. Before that when I was looking for work that wasn't waiting tables at Denny's, an experience I should have included in my college application in retrospect. I became the arrow before that when planning my move to Florida, and maybe only once before when I was attempting to get my grades up high enough to get an insurance discount for my folks when I was getting my driver's license.

When I am the arrow I am high strung, and ready to be released, from where I will swiftly fly.

We'll know my target soon enough.

Let's talk about the weather?

2009-04-10T09:14:00.000-07:00

The chance of precipitation today is 10%. It feels higher, and I have my raincoat behind me because it feels higher and I distrust meteorologists DEEPLY because I recently found out they don't actually study meteors to discover the secrets of the weather.

The answer is not in the stars, it seems... well, at least not to this question.

I was thinking recently about opening a store. Not seriously, just the theory behind it. Who wouldn't enjoy connecting people with the things that fascinate them, right?

My store would sell:
- Raincoats (nice ones) and other Jackets (A-2 Leather jackets, for instance, and a full line of Helly Hansen products)
- Fountain Pens and nice stationary/journals/notebooks/inks
- Interesting small-brand Sunglasses
- Watches
- Literary Magazines
- Classy hats in a number of price ranges
- A rotating stock of unique electronic gadgetry
- A variety of pocket knives/multi-tools
- Sweaters and Scarves
- Imported Tea
- Aluminum drinking vessels (a wide variety)
- Small luggage items
- A limited stock (and I mean LIMITED) of used DVDs and records

Then, I would sell the store to someone else so I could be uninvolved in operating this store (I'm far too busy to be operating a boutique at the moment), and would begin shopping there. Perfect.

Mostly I want those items in a boutique because I can't seem to locate the items consistently locally.

Amazon.com will have to suffice in the meantime, I guess.

Am I writing currently? Yes. One of my pieces is currently on "second round" consideration at a literary journal, also. I'm crossing my fingers, friends.

Grows on the wall?

2009-03-27T10:52:00.000-07:00

Well, hi.

It's been an interesting few weeks, for certain. I've begun to hear from schools regarding admission, and I've plowed through stacks of paperwork that had to be handled regarding admission, and I'm just waiting to decide where to go.

Really, this process feels like running headlong at a wall. In many ways it seems like the "wrong" time to move, but on the other hand, it seems like when the common consensus is that it's the "wrong" time, someone else has figured out that it's actually the absolute "right" time.

I've heard back from one school already, but I'm maintaining a little secrecy at the moment. Perhaps I'll write a full note about the ins/outs of the situation when everything is settled, but for now still biding my time.

I was thinking, though, this morning about the Ivies. They've got a perilous situation on their hands right now, and it is difficult to interpret how they will handle it.

Certainly there has been a variety of Animosity toward our nations "top universities" in the past few years - hundreds, possibly thousands of voices ringing out with cries against the Ivy League's stranglehold on the image of quality education, noting that one might receive as good a body of knowledge from nearly any decent private University, and many of the top State Schools. This cannot have hurt their admission totals, but it has made the general populous shift their focus on the Ivy League schools from absolute admiration to casual dismissal and possible venomous objection.

I'm wondering how they're going to handle their acceptances for this fall. Consider that an increased percentage of "accepted but declining admission" students is entirely possible, maybe even likely this year. After all, despite their needs-blind admission (for the most part), moving out of state, away from family, incurring any expense may not be feasible for the average student right at this moment, despite the desire to at least test one's mettle where the Ivies are concerned. How shall they react to this knowledge? Widen the acceptance pool a bit to guarantee numbers are up? Ride out the storm with smaller enrollment and the promise of recovery in a few years? Accept even fewer people in hopes of an intentionally smaller student body in order to cut costs?

I'm curious. I mean, I'm realistic about my chances with some of these schools (specifically the ones that only accept, say, 7-15 transfer students per year), but I'm pretty confident that my application is strong and will be something for them to consider.

In other completely unrelated news, I am working on getting an Ex Libris for my books (both the ones I own, and, actually, the one's I write - I like the idea that my written works are, first and foremost, items from my library). I like the idea of bookplates a lot, and designed one for myself, but am not exactly skilled with penciling my visual ideas (I can get the job done, but the result is nothing stunning)... so I'm waiting to see if an opportunity to have it re-illustrated pops up. We'll see.

More as more things develop.

Wait until a star breaks through (funny)

2009-03-10T09:15:00.000-07:00

I just tossed out about 10 submissions over the past 48 hours. I was looking at my submission list and realized that I hadn't made any in about 3 months or so. A few rejections were trickling in from ones I made back in November/December, so I decided to get a few more out. I'm not really expecting any results just at the moment, but I have to keep things on the cycle. Finding homes for these stories makes me feel like a caseworker in child services.

There was an interesting news item being discussed on NPR the other day (yes, I listen to NPR) about a man who had lost his eye long ago, and had since become a film-maker, and was currently working with technologists to invent an in-eye camera that he could fit where his prosthetic normally would be. In this way, he planned on making a documentary feature. The NPR correspondent asked him the requisite questions about privacy, voyeurism, legality, etc., and he made a rather brilliant point - we are the worst invaders of our own privacy these days. Blogging, twittering, facebook status updating - these things air our private thoughts to an audience, sometimes a context-less anonymous audience. Is this healthy?

As a writer, I think, perhaps, that sharing too many of these inner thoughts without context is not healthy... at least the twitter/facebook 250-words-or-less variety. The temptation with these sites is to update constantly, lighting up every witty or useful thought we have during the day. That sort of mental exposure is unprecedented... and it is difficult for me to see an sensory difference between obsessively updating twitter and publishing pictures of one's own genitalia. Perhaps in society-at-large we are not terribly far removed from a day when that becomes a reasonable activity as well?

Constructing thoughts in the blog format is not terribly unhealthy for those that are scatterbrains and use these things to collect/condense a set of ideas.

Where are we moving as a society, if we take this story into consideration and use it as a fulcrum point? Increased frequency of voluntary body modifications? Voluntary prosthetic work? Digital enhancements? Injecting ourselves more and more into the "web" realm?

We are perhaps moving toward a meta-life. That's the difficult thing about acceleration in society... you can never tell the shape the world will take next in light of the changes. Historical record might indicate that it will not change all that much, but walking a mile in the shoes of people who passed on long before I, or even my parents were born might indicate that within my own lifetime I may cease to recognize the shape of the world around me. Perhaps that is what it feels like to be elderly. Perhaps that is why the aged surround themselves with the familiar and reject the changed.

Will our enhanced ability to adapt and consume, bred into us by living in a time of massive "buy-culture" and "gadget-boom," save us from a similar fate?

New Traditions!

2009-02-11T06:27:00.000-08:00

I forgot to post anything in January... or perhaps I was too busy?

I think it was the busy-thing.

School grinds on, and I am currently directly in the center of preparing my college application materials for submission by March 1st (though I am aiming to have them completed by February 23rd - not much time now!).

This is pretty stressful, but at this point I just want to get these applications out there and find out which of these schools wants to accept me, give me money, etc.

There's a lot riding on these applications - whether I'll remain in this area, for one, in my job and house and all of that stuff. Part of me, the dreamer part, hopes that I'll be on my way to a different area really really soon, but the "adult" part that thinks about things like checking accounts and buying nutritious food, etc., says "the economy is bad, your job is decent, there are schools around here that will probably give you a full/almost full scholarship" and I'm concerned that the voice I listen to here is going to be the one I'm stuck living with from here on out... but, I mean, that's not realistic.

I've had a difficult time buckling down to write, except for some pretty pained/passionate sessions over a bizarre soft sci-fi piece I was working on for a while. I've been reverting to my other forms of expression and inspiration that help me when I'm in one of these slumps - playing my guitar and whistle, listening to albums I like, watching soccer games, things like that, transcribing stuff I wrote a while back into Scrivener. I'll clear this funk soon. There's a lot I want to get done at the moment and it'll brim over eventually.

Short post, sorry. Have a bunch of stuff to do today.

'Twas the Night Before the Night Before Christmas

2008-12-22T22:38:00.001-08:00

And all through the house not a creature was stirring... except me and my laptop, and somewhere outside my house is a train going by off in the distance (not too far, though - like the middle distance), and my noisy neighbors having what is undoubtedly their 7th party in 4 days (they sound tired, though determinedly noisy), and all the other creatures, including the fuzzy feline variety, inside my house are doing anything but stirring at the moment. One seems to be snoring.

I'm awake, though. Dammit.

I'm spending this week's few days at the office topping up a certification for my job. Then I'm taking some days off, and then it will be the new year, and then I'll be back in school, and then all of my transfer applications will be due, and then I'll know who "accepts me" and will know my options, and then I'll be able to make a decision that is going to affect this rather whimsical career path I've embarked on after years of fiddling around with other options.

Can you see why I'm up late?

I keep arriving at these "crossings" and they always seem like such a big damned deal when I'm there at them, trying to make a sensible decision, and in retrospect they always look like the tiniest pittances of decisions. I can't throw decisions away anymore, though, because the wrong one will possibly consume a decade of your life without explanation or even you realizing it, really... or worse, and I can't fathom worse because consuming a decade is bad enough.

This evening Lesley asked me what consumes my mind these days, and I gave her a running commentary that slurred on for a good 3 minutes of non-stop banter... and in sorting it all out, actually, I've got an excessive pile of junk on my mind. I need to get that handled.

I'm getting a handle on my health situation, though. The kinesiologist I'm seeing currently has helped me identify, using his sciences, my particular issue... and more importantly the cause of my particular issue, and possibly even more importantly, a plan toward a solution that does not involve simple treatment of symptoms, but genuine healing.

One question remains in my mind, though... how does one drink a toast to their liver?

Probably with beet juice or something, because heaven help me it shall be a while before I have my beloved beer or favorite whiskey again.

Can you see why I'm up late?

Winter, yeah.

2008-12-06T20:14:00.001-08:00

Winter in Florida. I still feel hot, mostly because the heat is always cranked up inordinately, compensating in these first few cold weeks. Floridians can't handle the sub-70 days.

Short story ideas remind me of (*gasp*) Sexual Arousal. The idea arrives, and the act of writing, scratching the itch as it were, is at the option of the writer. I file most away for later, myself, in notebooks, which probably means something in this analogy also.

The semester is ending. I need a break. This semester wasn't academically difficult, I was just really occupied by far too much stuff. Next semester is my last at my current school, theoretically.

Watching the re-broadcast of the Manchester United / Sunderland game from earlier today. Good play..... for the most part. Ferdinand v. Ferdinand (PS what a game, and also, the Villa/Toffees game was killer too - dramatic!)

A few more thoughts. First, there is a section in the book store that contains chairs that are mostly used by homeless people. What is it about the bookstore that attracts the homeless? Is it the casual "browse and sip" atmosphere mixed with the absence of authoritative managers harassing them to buy or leave? Sounds likely.

Finally, a thought on the holiday season. The "Home Sushi Kit" is officially the new "Fondue Set" in that it is likely to be looked at with a forced, crooked smile when unwrapped, stored in a cupboard for roughly two years, then moved to a closet, then the attic. Then, five years later, it will somehow survive the decision about what to take over to the local Goodwill, will be opened, and terrible, floppy, poorly shaped sushi will be crafted clumsily and inexpertly, and then the damned thing will get tossed once and for all.

Yours is on the way. Merry Christmas.

Can't afford it!

2008-11-02T16:41:00.000-08:00

A friend told me today that the utilities company is going to cut the power to his business this coming week.

"The Economy"

We live in pretty cruddy times I suppose. There's a war that people seem to either hate or believe we're morally obligated to. We're politically divided and filled with animosity. People are either losing their jobs or thinking about what would happen if they did, and that slows everything down. Now, our finances haven't been directly affected yet, but I've noticed recently that every time I whip out the ol' debit card, it hurts a little to spend that dollar. I think I'm actually spending less as a result of it.

So, while the wife is out of town, I've been thinking about life. It is a little terrifying to consider selling an affordable house on which I have a fixed rate mortgage and a decent amount of equity, moving to a new state, and essentially starting out on a new career. I am terrified. I've said it twice for emphasis.

Of course I realize that this is where it happens, here on the edge. You have to take a risk or two, even if the poor-house is probable. If there is one thing I always forget, it is that I'm resourceful. We've been to the crap-farm before, Les and I, and we kept it together. They weren't the best of times, but we kept it together. We'll keep keeping it together, I suspect.

I have to keep remembering - this is for school. I believe in education. I believe that educated people have a better chance at the careers they want instead of the jobs they fall into. I believe that becoming educated is a fulfilling experience. I also believe that cowardly actions don't lead to anything positive, and recognize the difference between cowardice and irresponsibility.

The good news is, I'm still young. So, staying here seems cowardly. Maybe if we had a kid or something it would be different, but we don't and have no plans to... and, actually, come to think of it, having kids never seemed to deter my parents in any serious manner from moving (and, honestly, I have to say that consistent movement helped forge the personality I have today, so no complaints from me at this point... or back then, really).

I revert, in times like these, to a few rules - channel my unstoppable shopaholism into things that are useful and long-lasting (sensible coat, decent watch, good books - the stuff every guy needs), quit eating out by succumbing to my natural mistrust of every other living human, and just being smart about stuff. Keep the cars running, keep the card payments down, all of that stuff.

School is going well this semester. I signed up for my classes for spring, also. My mythology class takes place in... Second Life. I'm not a huge fan of Second Life, to be honest, but it is an interesting idea and if the system manages not to get in the way of learning (I suspect there will be some WebCT components as well) I'm game to try it. Hopefully the strange folks who seem drawn to a recourse-free virtual existence will leave us alone during class.

Quick question: How do people have time to play video games? Seriously.

Welcome to Europe by which I mean Iceland. No, I'm not actually in Iceland.

2008-10-17T11:10:00.000-07:00

I wonder how long it is between "tempting" literary magazines with your work and placing work in one.

Since the writing world works on a realllllly slow version of time (like, as though the world were revolving around the sun on Neptune's orbit, say, taking about 165 times as long to accomplish as any other thing one might do), I can only hope it is quickly... relatively speaking.

Vacating?

2008-10-09T07:42:00.000-07:00

I just returned from vacation to Ohio. Why Ohio? Well, of course, I did spend quite a few years there growing up, and my folks still live there, and there is a college there I was interested in visiting. I did visit it, in fact, and it was pretty nice.

How keen am I to be living in the colder climates again? SO KEEN. YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY KNOW HOW KEEN I AM ON THIS.

Yet, there are economic concerns involved, and I'm wondering if I wouldn't just be better to do an online degree at a school that offers an online degree in what I want to study, say, maybe with a scholarship for all of my hard work... after all, this is just finishing up my undergrad... right... right??? I mean, no one really cares where you go to your undergrad, right? RIGHT?????

......

Let me share this idea - I'm not entirely sure how this vision appears in my head as the wife and I have no plans to (read: plan not to) have kids, but I picture myself in my mid-to-late 40's sitting and discussing the idea of college with a kid, say 15 or 16 who appears to display a genetic resemblance to me, just unravelling the mysteries of "their future" and in this vision I'm explaining to them why, when I had been so keen on attending a top school or really hip lib-arts place, I settled for what made a variety of financial sense at the time when I was considering it... and then I picture myself as the 15 or 16 year-old and think of the older me as being sad somehow, as though he missed out on a great opportunity. Also, I am slightly angry because I can no longer apply to an Ivy League school as a legacy, and thus will have a slightly reduced chance at being able to attend. Come to think of it, I'm downright pissed at older me. Bastard.

But younger me... you have to understand... back then we were in a recession, and no one was sure if they could even get a loan to go to those sorts of schools... and we were so concerned about our financial states. I mean, we had a house and stuff, tiny as it was, and jobs, and all sorts of things were going right... and Lesley wasn't even sure she'd be able to find a job where we were going to go, and there was no way I could work and go to school full time. It was a big risk, you know, and it just didn't make sense in light of everything...

Shut it old man, you're making excuses and I don't even know what recession means so quite bla-bla-bla-ing at me like you are some sort of annoying duck that wants to justify his actions! Ducks don't justify anything! They have a slick back off of which things slide, and I know that fact from my data pad! Now, I will utilize the incrementally shortened attention span the youth of the future have and I shall tune you out now and go play ultra-games on my face-computer.

Younger me... if only I could explain or somehow put it in context, but alas, I cannot and that pains me so.

...

For the future non-existent children I must someday justify myself to, I do not feel I should compromise, people! That is totally sane, and not at all weird or unstable to think that, either. Trust me. I know. I whisper secrets to myself.

Pow! Ka-bam! wait...

2008-09-19T12:02:00.000-07:00

Last night I watched Casablanca for the second time in as many weeks. It reminds me of film school, inexplicably, as we never watched that film in film school. I remember watching Nosferatu, though. Anyway, I guess, when you look past the era-localized dialogue of Casablanca, you get down to the core of storytelling for film... the scene, the cast of characters, the leading character, their challenge, the road, the point of no return, the climax, the kicker. It's a classic and it's classy.

I'm working through a bunch of pieces for a section I was assigned for my school's Alumni magazine. They're coming out pretty good so far. I still have to organize an interview and might have to hunt down a few photos, but other than that, looking pretty sharp.

I feel like I haven't been writing lately, though, honestly, it seems like I've actually been doing little else. That's what happens during semesters with lit-intensive classes. I write constantly, just not as much the things I want to work on. Right now, actually, though, it has been a nice stack of essays, many of which are more related to school transfer applications. So much "self-selling," a big change from my usual self-deprecation and chronicles of human-nastiness. Hope I recover from all of this positive thinking.

In other news, I was recently given a sweater knitted by a werewolf. It is actually rather comfortable.

more bla on submissions

2008-09-04T22:06:00.000-07:00

Subs currently out: 23

How likely one is to be published: Less likely than I'd like to believe, I'm afraid.

I don't lead with B material, but as I gather new good short pieces, I frequently see who I haven't sent something to in a while and give 'em a bit of a razzle-dazzle. That's the correct method of dealing with this whole process, at least I'm told it is and am inclined to believe it is.

So, it is September, the month of my birth, and this September marks a whole really long giant and memory swallowing amount of time since I've been up North during the fall. What is it about Ohio in the fall? What is it about Connecticut's falling leaves, Maine's crisp coastal breezes, Vermont's local fall festivities that captivate me so? Sometimes I feel like a man possessed by apple cider and hay-ride memories. And cinnamon donuts.

Big shout out to Patterson Fruit Farm where the finest cinnamon donuts are available alongside scrumptious apple cider (this is coming from a guy who has pressed his own cider before, people).

(gosh I just realized how drearily New England it is to brag about pressing cider. Consider it stricken from the record, but secretly not)

I'll let you in on another secret, too: I wanted to go to bed 13 minutes ago, but I am compulsively staying awake right now. To what end I have no idea. I need sleep. I like sleep, when it is happening. It is the before-sleep brain-jogs that cause me to avoid the pillow, I think. My brain goes wandering, and when it does so, I get concerned. I usually try to blur it out by reading until I literally cannot keep my eyes open anymore, but that may not be an option tonight as the wife is already asleep and my desk lamp would probably wake her, that and my reading material is not the sort I can blur through.

I will wake up very tired tomorrow and will require coffee. I've become dependent on it, again, lately. I was dependent on it when I was younger, too... getting up at 6:ANYTHING to get to school on time (long drive, frequently in 3+ feet of snow, up hill both ways, sled dogs, etc.) causes one to crave strong stimulants early in the morning, minor status or not.

I was struck by a wretched thought today... just now, actually. I'm not sure that the people currently closest to me would tell me if I smelled bad or not.

I'll leave you with that thought until something more profound occurs to me.

Rejected by the best!

2008-08-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

Top-down, or realistic?

As an amateur/unpublished writer, do you really want to "waste" the New Yorker's time? Is there really the chance that you're the breakout undiscovered super-scribe? On the other hand, does it do you any good to have a realistic goal with your writing considering the amount of pavement-pounding one must do to achieve even an MODEST placement in a litmag?

I say GO FOR IT. True, a literary magazine may shovel your work back into the envelope with haste and fury, slapping that SASE back into the mailbox faster than you can say "wait!" but they know your name, now, even though it is as an object of burning scorn, a red, swollen blotch on a day that was otherwise pleasant. And that's fine, just... next time send them something better. After that, something even better. Then a better piece after that. Etc. They'll see you growing. Perhaps that will encourage them to publish your work? It could happen, I mean, at least, I think it could. I imagine it could. Right?

I mean, I don't know, don't look at me for advice, though... everyone thinks my stuff is too WACKY to appear in their magazine. They've got a public to think about, people. They can't have my ramblings sandwiched, shoe-horned, if you will, between advertisements for the Iowa Writer's Workshop and a fancy watch company like "Omega" makers of the acclaimed Seamaster series. How would that look, a story about owning a pet shrimp, slapped in between those two advertisements, those fine purveyors of their craft and trade? How it would look is, people would think the "The Iowa Writers Workshop is obviously a beastly hippie commune that espouses hard substance consumption as a means of simulating creativity, and the Omega Seamaster watch is clearly not the sort of product I should be getting involved with. It will probably cease to work right when I need it, or magnetize my credit cards or shoot springs and gears at my grandmother in a malicious fashion when I'm not looking, and then phone to have her placed in a dodgy old-folks home. Also, as I read this magazine I feel that the ink may be lead-based."

On the other hand, your writing may not improve and you may not have the option to send a increasingly better work of fiction each time your submit. If that is the case, no problem, there are still options (and most of them are not even suicide!).

Consider, instead, becoming the editor of your OWN magazine!

You could also become a blogger. OH SNAP, THE JOKE BECOMES A MIRROR TO WHICH I HOLD MY OWN EXPERIENCE UP AND SAY "GEE GOLLY, WOULDJA LOOKIT THAT."

Tagged and Filed: Summer 2008

2008-08-01T10:26:00.000-07:00

Well, the summer semester of 2008 is over, the ponies are in and the jig is up. I must admit, this was probably the most academically challenged I have felt in my few years doing school/full-time work simultaneously.

A colleague questioned whether I will be able to handle 5 or 6 courses simultaneously when I return to school full time, if I'm feeling challenged by 3. I think I will, though. I mean, if the 9 hours a day I'm at work isn't enough for 2 courses lecture and homework (45 hours a week), I can't imagine that the courses are MEANT to be handled. Really, I hope that this will signify both a quality/thoughtfulness increase in my work as a whole (not that it is particularly poor or thoughtless now, far from it), and perhaps will give me the time to fully appreciate the density of material in a way I may not be able now. Maybe it will do these things. Maybe it truly will overwhelm me, though. So many variables, x's upon y's upon n's.

In the meantime, as the semesters tick down and I wrap up the last few classes I have left to sort out, I'm keeping the schedule for submissions heavy (I have about 10-15 out currently, and am endeavoring to keep that pace up), and am working on my transfer admissions essays heavily as well. Most schools require three essays in addition to resume and application information. I probably need to retake the SATs, though I need to get my scores from my high school and figure out what they were sometime this or next week (I think they said they'd be back to business in August). I'm 99% sure I could do better on them now, but, ya know, who knows. Just want to give them the best idea of who I am now, not... almost 10 years ago at this point.

Anyway, yeah, a lot on my mind. Off to a meeting. Later.

Submissions. Lit mag.

2008-07-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

Oh wow, two posts in one month!

I had a few thoughts, though, and I wanted to share.

First thought: Submissions, as an unpublished/underpublished fiction writer are tough going. I think, though, that most writers make it even TOUGHER by worrying a lot about scatter-shooting their submissions to hundreds of magazines they're unfamiliar with, and then just sitting around and waiting for the responses.

Here's the thing, though....... you HAVE to be familiar with the place you're submitting to. I mean, read the damned magazine a few times at least, just to make sure you're not wasting your/their time and, really, your paper. That's the thing - literary magazines have this groove, and the few consistent, interested readers they have definitely have an expectation about what they'll find in their favorite magazine's pages. They aren't going to divert from that style. Why should they?

Next, once you get a rejection, SEND SOMETHING ELSE OUT. Even if it is to a different magazine, send something to someone. Keep things going out constantly. Have 10 things out at all times, at least. Even after you get one thing published. Along those lines, keep records of what you have sent to whom. Keep writing new material, editing, revising, workshopping, and then... SENDING. Show them your progress. If you're serious about appearing in print/hypertext, that is the only way.

Second Thought: I wish I had the time to get my own online literary mag under way. I have the site built, the webspace, etc., but no time to actually do the thing, at the moment. Maybe once I am back in school full time and no longer working. That's okay, I can wait. I mean, do that many people read each online magazine unless they are conceptually brilliant? I think not, I think most people are generally ignorant that such things exist, or that such things have classically been the proving grounds for stories that eventually became their favorite movies, such as the basis for National Lampoon's Vacation, based on John Hughes short story Vacation '58, first published in National Lampoon Magazine in 1983, republished in the most current issue of All Story.

Maybe people should be more aware of lit mags, maybe more of online lit mags... and maybe we need to give them more reason to read them. WRITE WRITE WRITE BRILLIANT WORK!

Stuff to think about.

Dear (Your Name Here),

2008-07-19T09:36:00.000-07:00

Hi. How are you? I'm fine, thanks. So...

huh?

Anyway, reading George Saunder's "In Persuasion Nation," working on essays for school applications, and taking notes.

Someone told me once that the French do not respect Americans because Americans buy croutons. I refused to believe that, when I heard it. Then, I made my own croutons.

Our reliance on industry has truly undermined our ability to perform even the simplest task, hasn't it? What do you really need to make croutons, after all? Friggin' old bread, olive oil, an oven or even a couple of moderately clean bricks and a barrel fire....... maybe some spices, if you're A FANCY PANTS?

(which I am)

I say all of this as I wipe my hands on a paper towel. Ahhhh, hypocrisy.

Lately, Les and I have been playing this game where we kill a bug and then leave it wherever it died for the other to find.

"I think I'll have some of this sake! Ohhhhh, it was used to kill a Cockroach."

"Coool, I didn't know we had cheez-its! Ohhhh, dead ants."

Ah, summer in Florida. Roaches, the lightning storms, and the pollen make it totally worth checking out.

note:

2008-06-22T16:39:00.000-07:00

I just bought a book about the history of Cod. Awesome :D

Afternoon thoughts while doing homework.

2008-06-21T09:23:00.001-07:00

Here I am excitedly waiting for Sumo wrestling to come on TV while I study about the facts of volcanic activity in the Earth and read intermittently. I got Nicholson Baker's "The Mezzanine" in the mail the other day. So far... it is... so micro aware... that I love it and hate it... etc.

I've also got a Gary Lutz book to read, though... who knows when I'll get to that. Eh.

I was in the yard doing some work earlier and there was a black snake cruising around the yard. The cats, from the screened-in porch, were fascinated. I wouldn't give the snake long against them... they're merciless playmates.

Well, alright, in the course of pecking away at this uninteresting blog entry, the Sumo has ended and Netherlands v. Russia is on the Tele... this has the makings of a great game. Better go watch.

Writers.

2008-06-19T06:59:00.001-07:00

As I've met numbers of writers, I've been consistently interested in examining their individual points of views on writing, the ideas they have settled on to explain their process.

Frequently, these things are formulated as little mantras or memorable quotes, and... well, normally that stuff is pure cheddar, but in this case I think it's helpful for remembering principals important to the process of creating compelling fiction.

There is a science, in other words, to crafting stories, and... maybe the majorly interesting factor is the creative variables applied to the recycled topics we all tackle.

Lost for classic topics upon which I wanted to place my own observations, lately I've been tackling... not "current" topics, because those are loaded topics, always... but stories that deal with "familiar" people, modern thought processes, whatever term you want to use to describe them.

Everyone has a process, of course... and we're all speaking something like the same universal language... and each process ends up with the same style product........ but its those little nuances, little nodes, etc., that bring out the real "process brilliance."

In other news, Lesley wants to go to Switzerland once I finish at my current school, which just so happens to coincide with her birthday. Yeeeeee. That's a lot of money, but I would love to experience a country I've never been to... I always do.

Movies.

2008-06-05T20:36:00.000-07:00

I just saw "Control," a film about Joy Division. It was fantastic. The story about Ian Curtis is by no means a happy one..... but the telling was excellent.

I highly recommend seeing it (it just came out on DVD, though I saw it in the local "art theatre").

Just to quickly relay a situation, though, we found ourselves in the theatre with some pretty rude folks. About... oh, say, 5/8ths (specific!) of the way through the film, a girl in the back started laughing. She didn't stop, both laughing and talking, for the rest of the film, giggling in outbursts as Ian Curtis' life was descending into chaos. I actually got up and walked back to ask them to stop being rude, but when I approached their table the guy sitting with the girl pulled her up against him as though I was coming to attack them or something, so I turned around and returned to my seat.

The Enzian is a dinner theater, so a certain amount of "conversation" is expected, but a larger amount of respect is sort of... expected, ya know? It isn't a dollar theater, they aren't showing "Baby Mama" that you are totally cool to talk through, and you expect people to talk through it as it speaks to the sort of people who know they are much more important than everyone else, and their giggling emotional conversation is necessary to have right then, in the theater, everyone else be damned.

I guess it is sort of elitist to think that there are certain places that the rude, inconsiderate and, well, ignorant don't go. Maybe it is just naive. I think definitely, though, that those that actually pay attention at the movie theater, in the classroom, in events where focus is directed on one task, those that can let the attention float away from us for a while, need to stand up for quiet.

So, people in the theater tonight - I'm sorry I didn't stand up and tell you to shut the hell up. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that you were being rude. I did you a disservice because I don't think you realized you were being obnoxious, I don't think you could comprehend that someone would actually want to be quiet for 90 minutes straight without even having a loud, giggling conversation. Next time I'll let you know - for your sake and mine.

I wish I didn't get this pissed off about stuff like this. I'm probably overreacting, but dammit, I wanted to pay attention to the movie!

Is that a fact?

2008-05-29T08:02:00.000-07:00

Does a book really need to tell the story of a change coming about in a character?

I mean, really.......

Moderate to midrange.

2008-05-22T21:40:00.000-07:00

Hello.

This evening I helped Lesley sneak a camera into Hard Rock Live and the Kids in the Hall live performance we were attending, this against the wishes of the establishment who instructed her that she was not allowed in the venue with a camera in her purse and would need to dispose of it or check it for $3.00. It wasn't to take pictures, this little fisheye camera with no film, more like an purse-normal oversight. So, I went in, walked down a partition, had her slip the camera over the wall into my jacket hood, and back in. As I walked by the security guard, he asked me to empty my pockets (again), and checked my jacket pockets. Not the hood.

I feel a little guilty, but they were being unreasonable. The camera didn't even have film in it. Ridiculous.

Last night I attended a reading at Infusion Tea in College park. Reading were the writers Lisa Pasold, Dottie Horn, and Illyse Kusnetz (a poet, professor, and friend).

I read, later, as part of the "open mic" section. People liked my stuff, I think. The organizer asked me to come back as a featured writer on June 4th, and I said yes, of course. I'll have 25 minutes to read my work in (as opposed to the 5 allotted for the open-mic readers).

Hopefully people can come out, though recently I have sensed a bit that my "writing" has worn a little on my friends. It is difficult to face that fact, but some folks just can't be supportive. Perhaps it isn't in their nature, and I'm okay with that because I have to be because that's just how it works.

Lesley's and my anniversary is coming up.

Congrats Man Utd on the double - prem and champions league - hell of a game!

merry mum's day

2008-05-11T10:06:00.000-07:00

today is a fine day to thank your mom for giving birth to you. You were an awful rotten brat, after all. Call her now.

We went to an awful tourist trap called Dinosaur World. It featured giant dinosaur sculptures of questionable accuracy. It also featured a small staff that didn't pay attention to the visitors enough to notice that we were crossing the ropes and taking pictures with the dinosaurs (notably, me punching one). Maybe I'll post pictures later. It was silly, certainly. We also had dinner at Columbia restaurant in Ybor, this all for Lesley's birthday.

Tampa reminds me so much of a transplanted northern town. I fully expect to see highway signs directing me to Indianapolis, IN or Erie, PA instead of Ocala and Orlando and Miami. Why do I get this feeling? Maybe because of the way the highway is designed.

School is very taxing this semester and is causing me to evaluate how my time is being spent. I'd love to go to school full time and devote all of my efforts to learning. Just think what i could accomplish with that much time... Like two more things a day. Hehe.

Congratulations Manchester United, prem champs 07/08.

Teacher.

2008-05-02T09:46:00.000-07:00

Today I have encountered the following awesomethings (yes, that's a word - I just made it up):

1.) Student's voting for the best student project - one student drew a... "John Thomas" and "Balls" as their score. I made an announcement that whoever drew the dick had clearly voted for their opinion not mattering, and the class thanks them for it.

2.) Student sent an email from an ambiguous AOL account asking "hey can you give me my grade? Thx" - no name, no id, no information about who they are. I noted that, yes, I could give them their grade... if I had any flippin' clue who they were. They could, perhaps, be a 70 year old woman in Miami who is very confused. They could be a Martian spy. They could be a student from my class. Also, they spelled "Wedding" wrong - "weding" - nice! I hope they manage to pop out a kid soon so their kid can be awesome, too.

3.) A student that just HAS to get a B in the class to be able to move on to the next degree program (by maintaining a decent GPA). As usual, I have to calculate his grade to 8 decimal places and determine what exactly he needs, and if he fails to achieve I get to be the one to be begged for makeup work (not 8 classes before me that he got D's and F's in, no, he begs for points from the teacher of the class he got a high C in simply because it's the last one!), and if he succeeds, I will never hear from him again because I'm like toilet paper that way. No thanks, just flush.

So, yes, as you can clearly see, I'm very satisfied with being a teacher at this particular institution at this particular moment. Go me.

Put a ribbon on it.

2008-04-30T17:07:00.001-07:00

Spring Semester 08: Complete.

No, I'm not joylessly running through semester after semester, I'm getting down and doing my best to enjoy every moment, every class, every benefit each of them provides for me. Bingo. Anyway, no time to celebrate (much, I did go out for ice cream today, and as if in some sort of cosmically appropriate way, I did not experience any unruly stomach issues), since the summer semester begins in a matter of 5 days from now.

I've got some cool opportunities coming up. As with many of my opportunities, they won't be mentioned in detail as the physical manifestation of said opportunities is limited and they carry, by their very nature, no guarantees. If I tend them and they bear fruit, my dear blog, don't you know that you'll hear about them? Of course you do.

Memory: I was thinking about the last car accident I saw. The front of a VW Bug had propped up the end of a pick up truck. There were no injuries. The pickup was later found to be pregnant.

Blog!

2008-04-16T11:18:00.000-07:00

Look at me, I'm blogging!

Hi folks, it has been a month and it is time for me to compulsorily (is that a word?) update my life-happenings.

As of this moment I'm on what I hope is the tail end of a ridiculous bout of Bronchitis. Simultaneously, this conniving little bastard of a bug has conspired with my spring-time allergies to create an impenetrable mess of my immune system that involves stuffiness, coughing, headaches, stiffness and a fluctuating temperature.

Am I writing despite all of this? Of course I am. What are you, crazy? Good stuff too, at least it seems good while I'm writing it and later when I read it to someone it sounds crazy and misguided and people look at me the way dogs look at someone who is playing a trombone.

"Hurrr?"

I also got into a nice camera for my weekly adventures and the documentation of said adventures and have been using it liberally. I'll throw a few shots in at the bottom from my Anthropology class that I am currently enrolled in.

Now, if I may muse, I've been thinking a lot recently about hobbies, specifically my own personal tendency to pick up and drop hobbies as though "having hobbies" was my hobby. Maybe the things other folks call hobbies, or devote hobbyist interest to just become assimilated into my world view so that I need no longer spend energy on their pursuit but simply enjoy the collection. Pens, for instance. I haven't bought a new Fountain Pen in months. That's fine, of course, I have TOO MANY as it is. Do I still use them? Of course I do, they're everywhere. Do I still nerd out on forums about them? Not really, simply because the need for more information about pens is no longer there for me. I have the ones I want, I'm content to simply use them and resupply when necessary. Isn't that how a hobby should be, after all? Shouldn't it have some end goal?

I often wonder if one can truly trust one's self, but the key to this riddle is likely to cultivate an understanding of the complex pathways that make up one's logical thought system. The fact is, tracing the reasoning behind every little thought or bias you have in your life is impossible, but understanding your general motivations out of the scope of your own knowledge is DEFINITELY possible. It just takes the time to get to know... you.

Wow, this post is sort of lackluster... lets see........

THE HAM SANDWICH IS THE SQUARE ROOT OF ALL THAT IS. THE FRUIT NEEDS TO SHOW YOU LOVE BACK LIKE A TRUE CANADIAN HERO.

You're welcome.

Pictures.

Drink Until You See Betty:

Fantastic.

Fantastic!

2008-03-12T06:26:00.000-07:00

A few things.

1.) Work continues. I'm writing chapter after chapter and I don't know if it is momentum or just inevitable brain-spill, but I've lost steam and picked it back up and THAT is the business.

2.) Fantastic article about the Kerouac Festival readings by fellow Orlando area writer Robyn Weinbaum - Check out the Blogged version over at her site! Thanks, Robyn, for the mention!

3.) Lunch from a can.

Mourning instant photography... sort of.

2008-02-13T06:47:00.000-08:00

The announcement by Polaroid of a few days ago saying that they will no longer be manufacturing instant film, combined with their discontinuing their instant cameras has me just a bit upset.

I enjoy the instant photography experience and not just because I'm an impatient bastard. It has a look, I'm afraid, that cannot be replicated digitally.

Also, I can point to a Polaroid taken of me at age 0 - will kiddies of today be able to yank out the photo album and peruse their baby pics? Or, will those be lost on Ma's "old computer," the HD of which is fried.

To mourn, today, on the way to work, I purchased one of 3 remaining Polaroid One600's on the shelf in the back of the photo section of the drug store on the corner (I would say "dry goods mercantile" since I'm being nostalgic, except my drugstore now has a digital cappuccino station built into the end-cap of one of the aisles, so somehow I don't feel the term applies). Someone will undoubtedly pick up the slack (and lets not forget, Fuji has made in the past and still does make instant film that is compatible with modern Polaroid cameras), but I want to remember. I had an old SX70, man.

Here's Engadget's take on the situation.

one of my more recent Polaroid photos.

Reading

2008-02-06T07:59:00.000-08:00

I've got a reading coming up on February 23rd.

It's part of the Kerouac Festival at Valencia East Campus, and I'm reading a few of my short stories sometime during the student block (the student block goes from 1-2pm). Also featured will be former Poet Laureate (2001-2003) Billy Collins, who, in addition to doing a reading of his own work, will be signing books. There will also be other local poets and writers displaying their own work from 2-3:30.

Here's the info about the event on Valencia's site.

Here's the info about Billy Collins part in the event on Orlando Weekly's site.

This is completely free and is open to the public, so please, anyone who can come, I could use the support.

Hello Blog.

2008-01-21T07:06:00.000-08:00

I didn't post at all in December. Whoops! Time slipped away. Since then I've finished yet another semester at school, one in which I felt like I did some pretty good writing and revising. I'm sure that stuff will lead to either:

1.) Fresh stacks of Rejection Letters (I'm running low!)
2.) Otherwise

So that's exciting.

Done studying Jack Kerouac now. I liked focusing on his work, but I must admit, the proportion of my enjoyment in reading "Dharma Bums" was inverse to my "enjoyment" in reading "The Subterraneans." I guess I'm just not as advanced as ol' Jack, what with liking sentence structure, plot layout, character development that doesn't happen in bursts of forward/backward idea spurting... or something.

Conversely, the "vignette collection" style writing of Irvine Welsh in the novel "Trainspotting" was nifty, and I enjoyed reading the book as difficult as the vernacular was at the beginning of the process (you get used to it after a few chapters).

Right now I'm reading Tim Powers' "Anubis Gates" (for a class, actually), and enjoying it quite a bit. Also on the docket for study this semester:

William Gibson
Jack McDevitt
Vernor Vinge

Sort of a "science fiction literature" class. Enjoyable, for me anyway.

Nothing else new to report, really... have done a bunch of writing, but I've been "refueling" more and scribbling down ideas while I've been working on other junk. There are some good ones, thus far.

I probably am doing a reading of my stuff for a festival at my school (The Kerouac Festival, still celebrating the 50th anniversary of the release of "On The Road"), also... though the details about that are forthcoming still. I'll post them when I have them.

A case of the busy

2007-11-28T07:41:00.000-08:00

No lies. I've been busy. BUSY. Writing, working, schooling (in general) and playing video games, sometimes. A number of things have happened, recently.

I've been focusing a bunch on writing shorts and workshopping them and editing them and re-writing them, and re-re-re-writing them and editing them again. I feel like a lot of them have really improved, gotten into shape, as a result. I've been avoiding submitting anything for a while, too. I need to focus on where I'm sending things, probably. I have a few stories I've been crafting for a few certain opportunities, but I have an overall plan in the works. It will take time, but it always takes time, doesn't it...

In gadget related nonsense, Amazon.com released a neat ePaper reader device called the Kindle. It's cool, has wireless access to Amazon's electronic book catalogue and has a dictionary and ability to search text via a keypad... things the Sony Reader doesn't have. Also, a new version of the Sony eBook reader has been released with fancy anodized aluminum exteriour. Nice. I still like mine, but nice.

Pens? I purchased a Waterman Phileas, which I like very well. Its VERY smooth, and not terribly expensive... certainly a fantastic value, if one were to be interested in nice pens.

Thats all for now. Sorry for the extended silence.

Snarling cur!

2007-10-09T12:57:00.000-07:00

What on earth have I been up to?

- Beer Drinking - Oktoberfest was last weekend was oom-pa-tastic
- Pen Shopping - Christmas is coming, I know what I'm buying people who I buy presents for... cheap Japanese Fountain Pens! The gift that keeps on giving.
- School - more classes than usual this semester... 3... which is a lot for full time work and school simultaneously.
- Reading - Books for school, mostly. Studying Kerouac for one class, reading Lydia Davis between other things because I find it is pleasant to read in chunks (and pleasant to read in general!)

I was turned on to Book Mooch recently (bookmooch.com), a site for trading books. It is free, and you have to offer up your unwanted books in order to be able to get things traded to you. You pay for shipping when sending something out to someone who requests one of your books (media mail, usually), but other people pay for shipping to send stuff to you when you request it, so it balances out. It is cheaper than buying the books new, or even in a second hand store. It is a nice system. I have gotten rid of a stack of books I didn't want, and scored a few books I did. What I like most about it, probably, is having a productive and interesting way to get rid of unwanted books (ya know, other than boxing them up to send to the thrift store where they will sit around unwanted for a long time). So far I've scored a Helliconia book by Brian Aldiss, some Whitman, a Larry Niven book, and a collection of poetry in Old English.

Writing, for the past month, has been mostly wrapped up in school, and doing re-writes on stuff that one of my professors has been looking at and giving me notes on. I'll be honest: I've gotten two more rejection letters since the beginning of September, but I'm working through the material either way because that is how you have to plug, plug, plug.

It has been torture seeing advertisements for "The Darjeeling Limited" on television and not having one of the limited-release theater locations anywhere within reasonable driving distance. I am very much looking forward to seeing that particular piece of cinema.

I realized, the other day, that I haven't done anything serious with music in a number of months. I wonder if I'm just too busy, or if it is more that nothing is occurring to me where musical ideas are concerned... as though I've simply run through my creativity tank at the end of the day. That is, indeed, something to ponder.

New Story added to site

2007-09-13T10:46:00.000-07:00

Well, I promised I'd add it to my site in its entirety if it was rejected again, and I have -

http://jchristophersilvia.com/work.html

"Office Supplies" is up there, now under "Work and Publications." Have a look.

One more story out right now, which still has some life in it... if it isn't accepted by the folks who have it, I'm pretty sure I'll be sending it over to the place that rejected "Office Supplies," since they didn't seem to have any particular problem with my writing. The story just did not have enough support within their staff to make it in. Thus ends the cycle for one story. At least you still get to read it.

It follows the wonderful Eric McBean on his adventures in the future, where Karaoke is a federal offense.

Enjoy.

Curry?

2007-08-22T18:16:00.000-07:00

Jump back into the flow - thats the best way to deal with rejection.

Yell "Oh yeah?" to no one in particular, while you slap down your next marvelous words. This shocks the hell outta your cats, trust me.

Just nailed a submission out to another lit mag, going to get another story prepped fo' subbing too (the accepted, wait, n/m rejected one, this time to a different mag).

It doesn't matter, I write this shit for my own entertainment, mostly, and to get it out of my head. They are my little worlds and they only come out of my head to make room for other little worlds that want a turn. I can enjoy them just fine up there, but they get into fights with newer ideas.

What can you do?

bollocks.

2007-08-21T14:59:00.001-07:00

Remember what I said about not counting eggs?

Just got an omelet... no chickens to be found there, had to cut me from the issue. I continue, though.

I just got a new desk, after all... that, right there, is reason enough to write...

...isn't it?

A day in the life.

2007-08-12T12:41:00.000-07:00

Though I refuse to be the type of person to count any sort of egg-laying fowl before they hatch, I am talking to the editor of a cool magazine/literary zine thingamajig regarding one of my pieces. Exciting. I'll post more info/links to where when I have more info, dates and that sort of stuff.

I had a busy day, yesterday.

Russian Grocery:
Ya know, I never did bother to learn any Polish words from my grandpa, and I suppose I still could ask my mom what she remembers (the basics I remember... basics being anything that sounds vaguely like English, hehe, like how "Thank you" is Dzãkujã, which sounds sort of like "Jane-koo-ya"). Anyway, my apparent inability regarding all things Slavic was obvious today at the local Russian grocery store as I attempted to buy: Pirogies and Pumpernickel bread. I asked if they ever had Russian tea cups (they have a TON of tea at this place, and Samovars all over the place). I attempted to say "Podstakannik," which resulted in the lady at the counter calling over the other lady, them having a spirited discussion in Russian (the speech bubbles for which would look like this - "русский язык!!!!") which concluded with, eventually, one of them making a hand gesture to the other that looked like a tea cup, sort of, and then looking back at me and saying, "No, we don't have those." I snatched my debit card from her hands and bolted out the door, yelling "My peeps invented vodkaaaaaa!" as I jumped in my car and drove away (sort of).

The art supplies store:
Pearl Art Supplies (the nearest art supplies store to me) is a heaping pile of horse crap. You walk through there, and pick something up (often off of the floor) and think to yourself "ah, yes, I shall buy this!" and then remember that, despite the fact that you picked it up from the carpet, possibly dislodged it from between two racks, it will still cost its full retail price. I described the Pen/Calligraphy/Airbrush section to Lesley as feeling "like it should be having a 50% off sale, but isn't." Despite all this, their disorganization and sloppitude has lead to an interesting conundrum, for me. In the course of plowing through their bizarre collection of pens, I found a number of unexpected bits: J. Herbin ink (nice French fountain pen ink that I like a lot), and a Rotring pen that was discontinued about 2.5 years ago but has since become a hot ticket item. It's still new in the box. They haven't discovered this, yet, and the guy at the counter got it out of the back for me. Its still at its normal price. Of course, while I was there I didn't realize any of this, so I didn't buy it. I was hoping that, since its obviously been there for a really long time (I'm estimating 5 years), one day wouldn't make a difference. Its got a black hexagonal barrel with a smooth finish (that warms to your touch), its made of heavy steel and most people say it can survive nuclear attacks and possibly be used as a weapon in an emergency. As for me, I would call it "beefy." I can tell you that for sure because today, I returned and purchased it and even got a 10% off discount.

The movie theater:
So we braved the theater for a little Simpsons movie action. I enjoyed the film, yes. What I enjoyed even more, though, was a couple that walked into the theater. Understand, Les and I were literally the first people in there. We sat down, we waited. Just before the film started, a couple walked in with a stroller. The child in the stroller was already agitated in just the entry into the theater, so, of course, we had high hopes for shrieking and perhaps some "MOMMMMMYYYYYY"'s throughout the film. The lady... well, I'll just come out and say it... she was obese and not in a pleasant, friendly "Jolly" Santa way, no sirree, she was unpleasant. I don't really normally hate on folks who have the extra weight, but when they plunk down into the chair and whip out:

A.) Double Cheese Burger
B.) Onion Rings (with Ranch Dressing for increased health!)
C.) 44oz Cola

Well, I gotta say, I have little sympathy. OH, and she was feeding strips of the burger to her infant, forgot about that part. Ha ha! How did she and her gentleman manage to smuggle these items in to the theater? Granted, I wont criticize theater food smugglers... I descend from a long line of folks unwilling to pay for Butter-Lung inducing pop-shards and wickedly price pointed fruccy goodness. Today, we smuggled in two Ito-en teas and a package of "Panda" Licorice bites. Mmm. Not theater snacks. Even better Mmmm.

Anyway, returning to the burger people, when we left the theater, I glanced down at the floor where they had been sitting and the only thing that was left to indicate their presence in this place was: A single scrap of Bacon.

I saluted it like I salute the flag and sang as I left the theater...
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

A Book:
I purchased a book about writing, the other day. Normally I don't do this sort of thing, but I've noticed that I have been having a bit of trouble with my SF/Fantasy style stuff lately, for whatever reason, so I thought a bit of sage advice could help. Orson Scott Card's book on the topic looked interesting. And, so far it has been. I like that his advice is bluntly practical. I have a hearty amount of respect for him.

Lemon Curd vs. Jelly

2007-07-28T22:09:00.000-07:00

Forget Jelly, Jam and assorted preserves. Lemon Curd is where its AT.

F'real.

Also:

If you keep writing tons of short stories, eventually you'll have enough to put a book out. As far as getting people to read it? Maybe if it's $3.00.

Snappy punch ups!

2007-07-20T06:45:00.000-07:00

The other evening I slapped the notebook shut on a short story that was less short and less... well, story, I guess, than I wanted it to be. Especially when writing a short, if it gets out of control, I think the compulsion is to dump its ass off and forget you ever wrote it. Yet, I can't. Why is that? Duty? A need to finish what I start? No, the actual reason is that they're all in a notebook and I don't know how many pages to budget in case I want to finish it later. So practical. I considered finishing it and transcribing it, doing a bit of punch up work on it to get it to flow, or... change... something? But, on closer inspection, there was a thick layer of "horrible, poorly conceived 1950's horror movie acting" just below the pleasantly broiled "finished story" layer.

So, I just finished it and slapped the cover down on my notebook. It was a labor, my goodness gracious, and in the end it was just as unusable as I suspected it would be. I shamefully read it to my wife who confirmed with a half smile that the "wordplay was interesting" but when asked about the story, offered no comment.

I said, by way of suggestion, "It sucks worse than anything ever, doesn't it."
She blinked and offered, "Well, at least it's done."

She's right, of course... and after a little recharge time I can move on to the next project. Whew!

Even when I'm not actively engaged with the noveling action, keeping these shorts and flash pieces constant has kept me revved on the whole fiction writing side of things. Learning my own habits, my own work flow, my own methods of inspiration and organization and how they work and play together... its been interesting over the last few months. In the past work on projects came in bursts and I hadn't devised any clever methods of working on multiple things at once... instead I was shoving other ideas away after cataloging them in a text document, and forcing myself through other things, leaving these juicy ideas to sit and get stale. Stories are like bread in that sense. Granted, they need time to rise, but eat that shizzy while its still warm, dammit!

We started a writers group, here in town... its small, at the moment (less than 5 people), but its nice to be around other writers every few weeks. Around, I should say, other writers I respect for their constant writing in sub-genres. People who have something to say, who aren't writing just so they can call themselves "writers."

In other news, I bought another pen (and I recognize that this is quite possibly the most boring collection in the world next to "stamps of the world" so I'll clam up about it), I can walk pretty normally and I'm gonna go buy a new book tonight.

The sound of disposable pens being disposed of.

2007-06-21T10:41:00.000-07:00

Personally, I experienced one fraction of a second of bliss upon completing the first draft of a book. It is immediately replaced, of course, by a huge crushing feeling of defeat in that I know I will soon be entrenched in editing all of the things I glazed over during the process of reaching this final point.

There's also the side issue of not having my "supposed to be working on" project - you know, the project you're procrastinating on so that all of the other projects you have on the table seem joyous and simple and ever-so-free-flowing? Yeah. I guess I'll have to make something else a priority, slack on that, and get back to writing what I was enjoying, again. Of course, the feeling that whatever I'm concentrating on will become a labor is probably a machination of my creativity drained brain.

The story I finished today landed with the most elegant belly flop I could muster for it. It stands at a whopping 32,000 words, approximately, barely a novella. Yet, that bothers me less than my own concerns over what, exactly, the story is that I've told, here. As with most things, it began with an idea and through the course of my compulsive typings, mutated into a wholly new creature to whom I had not been formally introduced. Standing back and taking a good hard look at the expanse of words I've slapped together, I cannot help but feel a tad concerned that I said not a single thing I intended to. Then again, had I any intentions? I can't honestly remember at this point.

It's a story, after all. A story, dammit! A story is supposed to mean something, even that something it means is ultimately nothing at all! Of course, I doubt I actually believe that.

Now, the fine question I ask myself each time I reach the end of the last line and slap "return."

"What on earth do I do with this?"

The heavy?

2007-06-04T11:12:00.000-07:00

You know what I like?

"Witty Plastic Concept Toys, rationalizing the ease with which you abandon your dreams and a style of music called... 'twee pop' is it?"

Someone's been taking their nasty pills.

"Well, I had time to write them. Not doing much else. How about you, did you write today?"

I... not really, write, exactly. I wrote down some new ideas while I was at a stoplight, on the way to work... and I edited a short I wrote a few weeks ago.

"Ah, editing. Is that what you call it when you're too lazy to make an emotional investment in creating something that has the possibility of being imperfect?"

Well... no, I mean... I have to edit things, it's how I refine... anyway, what's your frickin' problem?

"Oh, nothing, nothing. So, tell me... what do you like?"

Ah... well, I was going to tell you about Utilitarian collections, but you're being kind of an asshole, so I think I'd rather not discuss it with you.

"That's cool, I'd probably just find a way to make you feel bad about spending money on a hobby when you're obviously unproductive."

Slow and steady, my friend.

"Slow and TV more like it."

I've been getting back into Star Trek, so freakin' sue me.

"Wonderful... Star Trek, collecting pens and old keyboards... bet you drink Belgian beer, too."

Delirium Tremens is pretty tasty but... what does that have to do with...

"You're not just a nerd anymore, man, you're about one step shy of being a shut-in coke bottle glasses ultra nerdy-dork-dorky-nerd-geek-goober-freak-trekkie. You should pre-buy a ticket for the Forklift ride. It will save time when they are all knocking a wall out of your bedroom to haul your ass to the hospital for your stomach staple."

Trekker is the preferred terminology, actually. Hey, that reminds me... do you remember that TV show "Nowhere man"? It was on the Sci Fi channel? I think he was pretending to be a pizza guy in one episode and had to, like, rescue some skinny hacker dork who was so addicted to bulletin boards that he never left his basement and was all emaciated and atrophied and wearing footie pajamas or something. Maybe it was porn he was all cracked out on, actually... I can't remember. Either way, he was shivering like a diabetic chihuahua and Nowhere Man had to help him shotgun a Capri Sun.

"I can't stand you."

Maybe your standards are too high?

"Maybe. Still wanna go to Borders later?"

Oh HELL yes. Books are sweet.

"Hells yes they are. Also, magazines."

Darn stories...

2007-05-27T08:24:00.000-07:00

No one ever wants to pull the trigger on something they've spent months of their life on. At least, no one I know. Still, this morning when I fired up the 'ol word processor and read read the last thing I had written, I was struck by the fact that what I was creating was in no way what I wanted to create with this story. It had spun out of control. There are a number of reasons.

1.) Trying to constrain myself to a month in the writing of the initial draft
2.) Inattention across a number of phases in the creation of the story
3.) This was already my 2nd attempt at creating the characters, and while they were closer to what I had hoped, they were

The story has a disease. I feel no attachment to the characters - I can leave them right where they are right now and not feel bad about it because, in my eyes, they earned it for being selfish assholes. You hear me, ASSHOLES? Hehe.

It just needs a rewrite. Oh, I know I should power through, just finish the story and go back and fix huge wads of text after I have. Oh, and I probably will do that. I just don't relish the idea because I'm not as dedicated to the story idea as I was. Oh my, oh my, what a mess. That's why I feel free to go and work on whatever I want whenever I want. It's not like I owe these stories to anyone...

except myself...

(ooooooooooooooooooooo)

Also, ordered some new ink. This, of course, is related to my experiment with writing something by hand for the first draft. I'd say I'm rather enjoying it, despite my addiction to technology. And, I've had a shocking yet obvious realization: The ink goes faster when you're writing more. My fountain pen has been mostly used for writing notes and the occasional idea into my notebooks, so it was a little shock to change cartridges so quickly. I have a local source for the ink made by Lamy, but... still, rather than just relying on the manufacturer of my Pen's ink forever, decided to experiment with a few bottled inks and a refillable cartridge. Thus I ordered Noodler's Bulletproof Black and Marine Green inks. Also got some "Turquoise" Pelikan cartridges for the Missus. I guess it's OK, though not a color I'd want to live with for pages and pages. Too light.

If anyone is ever looking for good pens and good inks, Pendemonium definitely carries all of that stuff and has decent prices. We'll have to see how quickly it arrives after they've shipped it, but thus far I've been impressed with them, to the level that I'm already planning a second order.

Hey, look at that!

2007-05-13T15:22:00.000-07:00

I got a new pen.

"WELL HEY, THATS FABULOUS!"

Yes. It is.

"So, like, what is it... a bic?"

No. Um.

"Scripto? Pilot Dr. Grip?"

No and no...

"Then... uh..."

Listen, never mind, alright.

"What, are you too good for disposable pens?"

No, that's not it... I just like nice pens.

"A Dr. Grip is nice!"

No it's not. I bought one and the first time I refilled it the refill exploded. That was shocking considering it's just a stick that you put inside the case with no moving parts. Also, the grip pad yellows after about two weeks.

"They look nice."

Yes, true. So it seems a Dr. Grip is mainly nice when you don't use it.

"Now you're being a jerk."

Sorry. Want to hear about my pen?

"Fine."

Thanks. It's a Lamy Tipo roller ball.

"What is that, French?"

German.

"What's so great about it?"

Well... thick, smooth lines, dependable quality refills which are widely available, lifetime guarantee, $7.50 flat charge to refurb the pen should it become defective, etc.

"Sounds expensive."

Some are. This one was $10.

"Huh. For one pen."

Think of it as a 'writing partner.'

"Thanks, I'd rather not."

They make nice gifts.

"Don't get me one, OK?"

If you say so.

Handwritten.

2007-04-27T09:00:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about writing the next thing I write with a pen and paper. This is a massively inefficient habit I have struggled to break over my life (hence the obsession with nifty organizational word processors like Scrivener). When I was younger, the stuff I would write was neat for a twerp (ah to be 17 and grammatically correct) but I just wouldn't ever put it down to word processor. The pages would permanently occupy a three-ring binder in their sloppy entirety. One of my teachers (art teacher, though he had much more faith in my written work than paintings... and he was right, as it turns out) always asked why I never bothered to type things up. Since my handwriting was so bad, he would never read it unless I typed it up. So, anyway, the point is that this is, perhaps, a backwards step for me but I want to give it a try. Something about the pacing of handwriting that could maybe allow thoughts to form more fully in the space of a sentence.

I have decent notebooks, I have a nice pen (I'm a big fan of Lamy fountain pens)... it's probably worth a shot. So many writers I respect do things in this method, after all. And, there's a possibly unintended benefit: In the transcription process, taking the sloppily written hash from pad to screen I tend to do a little self editing to correct the flow and pace and terminology. In that way, the first draft that lives in a computer tends to be a bit more polished, which is nice.

Some strategies to make the handwriting thing work out:
- Must must MUST break things into planned chapter spacing, ie determining what will happen within the space of a chapter and restricting myself to those topics (otherwise it could get out of hand and out of control).
- Must keep things well organized
- Must do my best to spell and write not-sloppy... because sometimes even I can't decipher my "chicken scratch."

Article on JPG Magazine site.

2007-04-20T14:00:00.000-07:00

I wrote an article to submit to the JPG Magazine site. Not sure if it'll make it to publication in the actual magazine, but if you want to read it anyway, here's a link:

http://www.jpgmag.com/stories/585

On our recent holiday, Lesley shot most of the pictures with a few "Toy" cameras. In the process of doing so we saw a number of advantages to using them and thought it'd be a good topic for an article of this nature. I've been picking away at between other projects. Anyway, it's there to be read. Enjoy. Also, if you're a jpgmagazine.com member, you can vote on it (I'm not sure if positive votes means its more likely to make it to print, but right on). Thanks if you are/do.

In other news, every time someone has asked me how my leg is I've been answering "still broken." Is that mean? I hope not, I think it's kind of funny.

Challenges! Rar!

2007-04-17T23:07:00.000-07:00

It has been a most challenging few weeks for me. After our trip overseas, the film festival the next week and a busy work and school schedule, amidst an especially busy week of training, I had my leg broken for me. I would say, had the circumstances been different that I "broke my leg," but the way it happened I feel the only accurate description is that it was broken for me. How? Sloppy, clumsy tackle against me on the football (soccer) pitch. Am I bitter? Trying hard not to be. Positive vibes help so much in the process. Am I in pain? Yep, especially when I get into a negative mood, which has been a little more frequently as the days restricted as to what I can do drag on. I've given up on TV, finished the book I was reading, so all that is left is internet multiplayer Mah Jong or Chess and simply doing my best to get some writing projects looked at and touched up.

Between the meds, pain and stationary limitations, I've been pretty out of sorts but I have managed to plunk a new draft of an article together (one more draft tomorrow morning and it should be in it's final phase), get a sizable chunk of a chapter in my book written, and feel pretty confident about where other projects were headed. The chapter was especially important because I've been in a pretty big stall with that story for quite some time now, so much so that I took some time off to work on other things (the short I finished a bit ago). How I got through the sticky part was with a liberal smearing of weird. That's the best way to defuse any tough plot point in anything, let the strangeness of your own mind guide you through the perhaps unlikely yet compellingly strange plot devices you dream/imagine between dozing/waking. Thanks subconscious! I own ya' another one.

moments of horror!!!

2007-03-24T15:37:00.000-07:00

You know that moment of horror when you see your cup of drinking water tipping haphazardly toward that favorite piece of electronic gadgetry? Exhilarating, but only when the momentary toppling is averted. In this case, it was. Regardless, though, it reminded me that soon I will be having to replace my aging laptop. Ol' Beleraphon (yes, I still name my computers after Greek and Roman mythological figures, shameful). We've had some times, this laptop and me. It's travelled with me to multiple countries, across this land, has been a partner in creating oh so many wonderful things. It's small, relatively light and usually up for whatever. What else could I ask for in a laptop? Well, I mean, it is a little slow these days. Slow as in when I type, the words lag behind my actual typing. This does not work.

So, as mentioned, the time is approaching when I will head on down to the ol' Apple store and pick up a new machine. I think I'm leaning pretty heavily toward the Black Macbook. It should do the trick, and it's not terribly expensive.

It's an exciting time at the moment. I just returned from a trip overseas (it was jolly), it's the week of the local film festival, it's educator savings week at the bookstore and the days have been decently pleasant, if not dry and pollen filled. Trip photos, interesting films, books and decent, non scorching weather - a few of my favorite things.

Lately I've been reading books that were clearly intended for children. Part of me feels silly doing so, but the writing (in these particular books) is very concise without being drab, and is free of excessive adverbs, something I've been struggling with lately (overuse). After I finish this particular book (OK, let me just admit what it is, the 2nd Artemis Fowl book, Eoin Colfer, you're great) I should probably dig into the stockpile of books I've picked up and haven't had time to really dig into. Lets see, now, there's the interlinear translation of Canterbury Tales which I've picked at (I suppose that's what I'm destined to keep doing with that), a book written by one of my English teachers from years back, a book written by my cousin, "Through A Glass Darkly,' by Karleen Koen, "The Last Kingdom" by Bernard Cornwell (saw ads for his newest book "The Northern Lords" all over the train stations in the UK, decided to give the series a shot), and, like 20 books in my eReader which I've been putting off reading. Ehh, that's a stack. It's a good thing I enjoy reading, I suppose.

Next nagging writing habit to work on: Needless Contractions, Capitalization and Commas.

The Triumph of Burning Blue and the Toner Catridge Failure Spree

2007-02-24T21:11:00.000-08:00

(subject has nothing to do with this post, though it is striking... mm, yes).

I have been wondering for the past few days about how many drafts one should realy write of a short story.

"As many as need to be written!" says the voice from the back of the gallery. Well, to you voice, I say "Thanks for the non-answer, ass," and then I hurl an eraser, because the place I'm imagining myself posing such a question is quickly becoming an old style classroom with chalkboards and everything. And, that eraser finds its target, thank you very much!

Anyway, I'm on draft three of my current little thing, holding the draft in my hands, and considering, still, making more changes. Small ones, this time, narrow changes vs. the wide ones I've made from each other draft up until this point. I'm just wondering, though... are four drafts needed on a 15 page short, or did I just really have to do a serious routing on this one, scoring out the crap that must've been so deep in the first draft.

It is different with short stories, though. Where as I can zip through the entirety of this story in a few minutes, doing this on one of my longer works has to be done on a chapter by chapter basis. The short presents immediate issues, the longer format story may have fundamental, deep seated issues, but they may not become clear until much later in the story. Sometimes, there, you lose a sense of voice from previous chapters when you narrow your focus so much, but it's the only practical way I've found to self edit. Even this thing, as short as it is, is shoehorned into four small sections in my word processor (ah, the scriv).

Ok, it's getting late... I'd better re-read this draft one more time, fix stuff and print one more copy of this thing, then go sleep. I'd like this sucker to be in the mail by monday morning... which I hope isn't an unreasonable goal.

Well, this is fairly interesting...

2007-02-22T07:06:00.000-08:00

http://books.google.com/

Hmmmmmmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Yes, alright. I suppose that means the eBook era is officially "on".

Personally, I'm currently:

Reading a book by Sharon Kay Penman (which is deceptively long and sweeping)
Bouncing between OCD Edits on a short vs. picking at a novel, starting a new novel, etc.

Here's an excerpt:

"Damnit... there was something I was going to tell you."

These words are sledgehammers

2007-02-09T07:44:00.000-08:00

Every time I edit anything, I feel like I'm slapping it around... which is fine, because most of the time I edit my own stuff, and most of the time it needs a good slapping-around.

As I'm looking over this short story, taking stock of the "edits" I've been scrawling all over a quickly formatted print out, I'm noticing there are more notes than actual story. I'm left wondering, while I look at this, if I was actually thinking about what I was writing while crafting this particular piece... ?

That's probably what they tell you to do in creative writing classes (though, I wouldn't know, I've never taken one, though I fully intend to one of these semesters)... get a shell first, and go in and poke around with the fine bits afterward. I suppose that makes sense.

So, recently I finally decided on a brand of mechanical pencils to utilize. This may sound like a bizarre sort of thing to make a decision on, but believe me, it's important. I used to just buy whatever was on sale, inexpensive, or convenient... but the last few batches I've purchased have had various problems. For instance, one set had massively gummy erasers that lasted only a few uses, and were made of such a weak plastic that if you actually erased something with a bit of emotion behind it (as I'm prone to do), the chassis would physically shatter. That will not do! Another brand was a bit more expensive, but had replaceable parts, like the two pencils in the pack came with extra erasers, extra lead, all packaged nicely in a little portable carrier. Unfortunately, these pencils are prone to jamming, and the slightest jarring of the pencils (for instance, carrying them in a backpack, holding them, thinking about them fondly) causes the lead to shatter into no less than 27,000 pieces. When you advance the lead, then, it dribbles out in micro shards which are completely useless for writing.

What did I go with? Papermate Sharpwriter #2, the sort with a twist-action lead advancer. The major malfunction these have is that their clip for attaching tends to snap after two uses, but since a pencil clipped tends to be a pencil lost, I've chosen to ignore this design flaw... in every other aspect, these seem to be superior. A fine product, paper<3<3mate!

Also, my music listening habits continue to lean toward very wussy electronic music... ah the joys of learning to appreciate little intricacies.

Twas brillig and the slivy toves? Nah.

2007-02-01T06:39:00.000-08:00

I would love for someone to explain to me my recent fascination with tracing the roots of English words, looking for forceful language and attempting to read Old English, learn its rules and mechanics. It's effective, this language of which I speak... guttural, at times, filled with threatening undertones, hints of earthen power and wholeness. It does not dance like Latin, it is blunt like a Saxon club. It's a comfort language in the way that mac 'n cheese is a comfort food. It's alien to the modern English speaker when written, yet when spoken we hear words we understand, ideas that form, a pattern that emerges. It has been an interesting experiences, learning the basics.

I suppose I've just explained it to myself. Ah musings.

So, Scrivener 1.0, the writing software I've been beta-testing/using the free version of, has been released. I purchased it, and have been loving it. The note-carding and organizational system is still fully exciting and useful, and as I learn of some of the features in this newest version I titter with joy.

I've been plodding through a short story in preparation for some things I've got in the writing cache, ready to roll out. This short is pretty good, I think. I'm not usually very good at making cohesive short stories, usually at just taking snapshots of what could be a larger story and reducing it to one scene... normally, I imagine anyone reading a short I put together would feel like this world was fully formed when they arrived into it, and perhaps they've arrived just in the middle of a conversation. I guess it's not so bad. I could just attribute it to my own "style," but I'm terribly concerned that it might just be attributed to an inability to write shorts.

I've just realized, it's February already... heavens. We've had a busy year already, what with art exhibitions for the misses, school and work for myself, preparing for our journey in a month and a half. I think waiting for this trip has made the first month of this year zip by a little quickly. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited about it. I hate to think of myself as a nerdy culture-hungry vacation worshiper, and I'm not, I don't think... but I have the taste for travel right now (well, sort of, I hate driving distances, and flying is no treat for me, for that matter).

On Finishing?

2007-01-07T09:39:00.000-08:00

Finishing anything you're working on is a bittersweet experience... on one hand you experience the relief of having it down, excitement of holding it, on paper, in your hand, still warm from the laser printer. But, then, there's the realization that it is, in fact, over, and the self criticism kicks in and the realization that it's much different in execution than you imagined it in conceptualization.

Of course, this is all part of the process... and it doesn't need to be soul crushing, as an experience.

I'm thinking about it because I finished a screenplay that I'd been working on for a while (just last night). I went through the range of emotions. It was... emotional.

I need to put it away for a while because I'm rather angry at it right now for being done. I'm sure I'll get over it, of course... eventually.

It takes...

2006-12-29T10:57:00.000-08:00

It takes a certain amount of wonderful insanity to daily sit before the computer and play with the often wacky paper dolls of fantastic nonsense. This is fiction writing as I see it.

Bookstore, Shall we ever decline?

2006-12-17T10:25:00.000-08:00

The modern Bookstore. Ah yes. I'm partial, of course, to Borders, though I won't say I haven't found things I've enjoyed at B&N or even the wretched other store locally (I shall not name it).

I think I enjoy these stores so much because I can still remember times of waiting for things to come back from loan at the library, and ordering books from the local "book store" in our rural town(s). Ah, the book store.

It was an old, old two story house with a vague sense of "Victorian" swoop and a big comfy wrap-around porch. It sat across the street from a fire station and a big corroded barn. Both stories were book filled, and the books you purchased were a sort of function of what they had in stock. I trusted them to stock good stuff, and really never questioned if a book would be good or not.

I was first exposed to science fiction there.

The modern book store, well... to think I can walk in with a book in mind, and the chances are, it's there, waiting for me. The books I buy are calculated, now. I hear something about them, and nab them up.

No more the random. Well, at least, not until yesterday. My wife and I were at Borders and she was buying a present for her mom and a book for herself, and I was confronted with the fact that, "Hey, these books here are 'buy two get one free.' I was the one! I got to pick a book and it would be free!" I didn't really know any of the books on the table (all except "Eats, shoots and leaves," yet I can't bring myself to read a book about grammar and punctuation). I settled on a book called "Through a Glass Darkly" by Karleen Koen.

I've never read it, never heard of the author. It's a thick tome, and I'll read it, I'm sure. I think if you ask the advice of any writer on "how to write," first they will say, "read." Oxford's notes on admission into their English program state that the applicant shall have read widely and voraciously.

In that way, I should mention I was also given a Sony Reader as an early Christmas present. Surprising? Not at all, but exactly what I wanted. I've been piling books on it as well, random smatterings of bookitude from Austen to Asimov. Still not out of the A's. Lots of things to read, though. Interesting thing I've been forced to consider in my time with the Reader: Will this whole advent of techo-reading (if you prefer a less sci-fi term, "ebookin'") finally catch on, after the 5th effort by major manufacturers? Might there come a day when a weekly trip to the book store no longer be practical or commonplace for avid readers? From the moment, with the limitations of online bookstores, it doesn't seem terribly likely, but on the other hand, probably every book is made digital before it is printed on paper, these days... something to consider.

Anyway, there is a point in all of this... this is a great season for reading!

YOU FAIL

2006-12-04T18:32:00.000-08:00

Oof, I will admit it, I completely sacrificed finishing my novel within the bounds of Nanowrimo for school work. I couldn't handle both. I am weak. WEAK!!!!

I don't actually feel guilty. I've proven to myself that I can do the whole "novel in a month" scenario... now, lets see if I can write a good novel in... say, 4 months.

I spent about 10 minutes this evening reading through an old book of poetry from about 7 years ago.

Yikes.

Of course, everyone looks back on their old writings and cringes. It would derail the process of improving if you didn't, I suspect.

It's not that I think everyone should throw out their old work, or deny it... far from it. It's always fun and a little silly to go back and re-read. Still, no point buying a house and living there, in the past... let's see, I think it was Patricia McKillip (Ok, I admit, I know it was her, I'm typing the quote out the book right now to make sure I get it right) that said of her "Riddle Master" series, "It is, and will always be, closest to my childhood's heart, the heart of whoever that young woman was who wrote those novels." It isn't her favorite work, and she could not write it again now, just out of pure... change. Growth? Experience? Change of opinion? Another reason?

I'm going to go write now.

The rare crossing of nerd and... well, actually, nerd of another variety.

2006-11-25T21:38:00.000-08:00

This evening, as I read through my copy of "The Oxford Essential Writers Reference" (I was re-reading the wonderful list of common cliches in there, and also the chapter on manuscript submission), I was struck with a memory.

Granted, not one from very long before I found myself there, in the comfey chair in the library, reading one of the best ways to spend $6.99... rather, one from a few hours earlier.

Today, I met this for the first time in person. I was impressed, sincerely. The eInk technology is really cool and, though at first I was a little disheartened by the price, the realization of what the technology actually offers is pretty impressive. I must admit I thought back to the "reading devices" seen in a number of science fiction movies and TV shows. This technology is very similar to that.

Now, if only we could get that whole "hover car" thing down, and get working on that whole "light speed travel" nonsense, as well.

Honestly, though, I was thinking to myself, "What would Strunk and White say about this?"

For those that are unfamiliar, William Strunk Jr. (Ohioan, stodgy linguist) and later, E.B. White (Charlotte's Web), one of Strunk's students, rendered unto us one of the most stunting and bland works of English instruction, "Elements of Style".

What would they say, these gentlemen so enamored with their own grasp of English mechanics, to the possibility that anyone with the ability to crud out a PDF could, in fact, be widely read.

"Hmm... balderdash!", I imagine.

MM, sore throat.

2006-11-11T14:07:00.000-08:00

Amidst Nano-noveling, school composition writing and various other things, I am sick. It is really hard to focus on writing while you're not feeling well, especially when it's varied types of writing.

Still, I've been doing my best to space it and shift gears as that is probably the best way to keep my momentum.

Now, I'm pretty typical when it comes to being sick... I crave soup. I went to the store and bought "cup noodles" and "Ritz" crackers. I don't know why I crave these things, but I'm sure it stems from some collection of experiences of days long ago.

Today I noticed a marvelous fact about instant noodle cups. They are "instant lunch". Mind you, they are not "instant soup" or "instant snack" or instant anything but lunch.

So, it seems that one cannot go wrong with treating a 50c cup-based soup as a meal, for it is, in fact, both instant and lunch.

This news should shake society to it's very foundation.

My sodium runneth over.

wri-mo

2006-11-01T06:16:00.000-08:00

Today begins Nanowrimo, the National Novel Writing Month (also known as November to calendar traditionalists).

The goal is to write 50,000 words in a month. I've written 0, but it's day 1. I'll probably spend this evening putting too many words down for a story I've been looking forward to focusing on.

What is the point of doing this all in one month when there are so many other things one should probably be focusing on in a month like November? Well, personally, I write much better when I have something else I'm supposed to be doing. Really, though, I think it's because people love to talk about writing but without some sort of organized structure, frequently they will not actually put the words down on paper. They'll have an idea but it will only ever be an idea. If this is what it takes to convert that idea into something worth the time, then bring it on!

I think it also helps people learn how to self-manage a timetable for your writings so they don't drag out over years. It helps in turning off the internal editor when writing (that thing that makes you delete and re-write sentences instead of plunging forward to finish crafting the story). All in all, Nanowrimo is a great thing because it has helped countless people achieve even an small ammout of success at writing, even if that success was just learning that you don't like doing it.

Good luck to anyone doing it.

Beyond Paper

2006-10-20T09:23:00.000-07:00

So, in line with my obsession with Nerd-Nerdy-Nerdinson the III gadgetry of the nerdy variety, I want to share my list of gadgets that are neato for writers.

Novel Writing:
Scrivener, a complete Story Crafting Tool (vs. just a word processor) allowing for all of the elements of a novel to be stored together including notes, ideas, pictures/sketches, outlines and notecards. Nifty tool for getting a story done!

Screenplay Writing:
Final Draft. Yeah, everyone knows final draft for screenwriting, I know, but it's worth noting because it has massively powerful features. Notecards view that is separated from the screenplay in that you can go in and make cards first and then write the scenes. Also, Collabowriter aka their chat system which allows for transfer and editing to be done on the fly online. Pretty cool.

Online Writing:
Google Docs (formerly Writely.com). Google's purchase of Writely was a pretty good idea as the site is pretty brilliant. Online Word processor that, aside from being fully featured, allows you to export to .doc, .rtf, .pdf and open office format. It also lets you email a "document" in, taking the body of the email as the document and subject as the filename. I use it constantly, especially for quick notes (the sort I used to email to myself).

Of course, there are also all sorts of gadgets that let you write electronically, anything from trusty old laptops (see: cheesy heart icon superimposed over my mac), writing only devices like the Alphasmart Neo, Portable PC-type devices like the Pepper Pad, portable fold-up bluetooth PDA keyboards and even phone/note devices like the T-Mobile Sidekick and Sony Mylo.

Do any of them actually replace the solid pen and nice notebook? Probably not. Do they increase productivity or creativity or story quality due to their nifty organizational functionality? Maybe... but people have managed to write without them for a long time. I figure, why pick one method. Use everything.

Thought Experiment

2006-10-17T14:29:00.000-07:00

"Prediction is the business of prophets, clairvoyants and futurologists. It is not the business of novelists. A novelist's business is lying." - Ursula K. Le Guin (from the introduction to "The Left Hand of Darkness")

Manufactured Truth: Where does it come from, what is it, and why is it so desirable?

I think a lot about what it is that makes people sit and read, sit and play games or sit and watch. There is something meaningful that happens in the process of entertainment, and I think I agree with the authors of "Rules of Play" when they say it's interaction with others, real or imagined. With games it's easy to disassemble - you input, you receive a response.

With movies and books and things... it's a little harder. What is it that people receive from the experience of riding along with the experience in a manufactured reality? Memories, I think. Memories of these places you've never been, but through the emotions described and subsequently experienced in these locations they become so real and so tangible that it's like a photograph you can go back to and look at.

Readers remember a time when they read a book that completely absorbed them to the point where the words on the page became a liquid mess of symbols representing ideas representing images which are absorbed by the sponge of your mind.

Of course, simplifying the experience to such a mechanical level is as betraying to the core of the enjoyment as is completely dissipating it's meaning into a cloud of existential idealism... (wow that sentence sucks)

Reading is enjoyable because you like the stories. Writing is enjoyable because the stories spark in your mind and exploring them is frequently more fun than reading them, at a deeper level of commitment.

2006-10-16T10:58:00.000-07:00

Strange, they are, the things you do when you're not writing.

Let me back up a bit. I write. I "enjoy" writing, which is to say that if no one pays me to write or even acknowledges my writing, I'll continue to do so. As it turns out, no one currently does either, so it stands to reason that I'm not full of whatever it is exaggerators are full of. I assume it's 30% crap and 60% sawdust with the remaining 10% being a sweet cotton/poly blend and unidentifiable "materials". Sort of like a pillow. "Enjoying" writing, I think, says nothing about state in which you perform the task - bitter, frustrated, snippy, aggravated, malicious and unapproachable are all reasonable ways to describe folks who enjoy writing at certain times throughout the process. It is, as they say, all good.

I'm also a student... English, currently. This, of course, provides me with endless hours of things to do. Frequently those things are... reading and writing.

I like making lists, but not of things to do, things to get. I'm a gadget fanatic. I usually write about my gadgets, both ones I want and one's I've acquired.

I enjoy movies, and also writing about them and writing them. I enjoy photographing digitally, video and stills.

I like music, making it, listening to it and writing about it.

Why do I say they're funny, those things you do when you're not writing? I can't really think of anything I don't eventually write about.

I'll try to limit it to the interesting items here.

And that, as they say, is a quick bio.

Stay tuned for sporadic, random and nonsensical postings.

Testing.

2006-09-24T18:30:00.000-07:00

Hello World.