31Dec2013

Finished my first draft of "Joba Priest the Drifting" and realize I have to do a massive re write.

Massive LOL.

It's only thirty pages long. I'm acting like its 400.

The voicing is all wrong and the structure needs to be altered.

The new idea is much better and showed itself in the first draft just like they said it would.

Gonna tackle it tomorrow though. Too tired tonight but it's in there.

Happy New Year.

I'm ending way better than I started for the most part.

30Dec2013

Still chipping at the old/new story.

You know the saying, "you don't write, you rewrite."

It's reading ok, the plot lines are hitting the right spots but it feels so "been there done that"

I've gotten better, now I just need to push them past the standard path.

The problem is they don't want to go.

They work so well as standard standard that I want to keep them.

Can't. That's the trap.

I must challenge the form.

Make them truly live.

I'll get there.

Most of the people here still flu like but gettin better.

Writing so helps with the dark thoughts. I focus on that.

dreaming

Fascinating how the mind works when u r dreaming.

I woke up angry and disappointed with a person I was sitting in the car with.

It has literally been twenty years or more since I've seen her.

The emotional content or the residual effect was just as intense.

It always takes a few mins to remember the subject isn't the issue, it's the emotional content.

The need for the mind to deal with a certain something and finding a way. Any way.

28DEC2013

Damn near  Damn near New Years.
This year sucked so bad! lol
I cannot put into words all the shit I dealt with.
Let that fucker be gone!

Whew! That felt good.

Lots of people sick here. All with the flu. That with the drizzling rain made for a perfect gray day.
No worries. I don't let things like that press me anymore.
Nothing major or insightful to offer  today. I just felt the need to keep my hand in here lest it fall fallow.
Still writing everyday and now asking myself why it took  so long for me to attain this focus.
I've wasted so many years. I am so out of time. Oh well. All there is is what there is.

Dec23

Tryin to get in the spirit.

Tough tonight.

Things will be better tomorrow.

Gotta get outta my head and I'm burned on writing for tonight.

the mirror

Was thinking last night about the lies we tell ourselves.
Our life is played out as a series of events lived in our heads. We shape what we see to please our own needs no matter how shitty things really are.

Tell ourselves we are loved.
Tell ourselves we love others, then start the laborious process of convincing ourselves its true.
Everyone does it most of the time. The vast majority do it without even realizing its so.

My curse is i look too much. I work actively at not bullshitting myself. I can't tell you how many times Ive been told to just stop examining.
Just go with the flow and i admit to periods when i do just that.

The problem is that for the folks who are observers or "watchers" as i like to call them, life is just different.

Writers fall into that category. They spend their whole lives watching. People, the weather, crashes, marriages whatever. They observe every reaction, every detail. They see the lies you tell yourself and the hard truth that is the reality of a scenario. Others refuse to look, its too close or too hard to deal with. Writers choose to stare at the sun for a few seconds.

Today has been one of those hard truth days for me. I have been going over the lies I've told myself, have made myself believe that for whatever reason are no longer working.
I call the hard rock surface of reality the mirror.

Its a mirror because once you finally REALLY see it you see yourself, warts and all. Clear of the lies and illusions, of the bullshit you fill so much of your days with. Looking at that mirror tends to cause two reactions.

You either embrace it, accepting yourself for that thing you are no matter how awful or
you go running back to the safety of your lies.

You find something, anything you get your thoughts off that "thing" and on to something more palatable.
I'm guilty of it too. I'm not special or great, i Just don't do it right away.

I tend to spend time looking at that mirror and owning all the shit that asshole did and does. Sometimes i think he's a waste of flesh.

Then i see my grandson. He's drawing dragons, or warriors. He is blissfully  content and free. He KNOWS Captain America is the shit no matter what his mother says. He moves me to tears.
He reminds me how selfish we can be sometimes. he reminds me what its all really about.
To hell with the mirror. It was never about you to begin with. Its always been about...them.

Writing for me these days

I'm way more productive lately. I'm concentrating better and I'm much more focused.

Also spending way too much time on twitter.

The plan was to get ideas on how to get published and meet people with the same goal.

I accomplished this but at the same time it's overwhelming.

Hundreds of writers, readers, pitchmen, agents and just general folk with opinions.

I've read tweets, blog posts and all things in between. 

My brain is now numb.  :)

I think my work is good but needs to be way better. I'm fighting my lack of patience in being there everyday. I do find inspiration in the few people I follow on twitter.

Good writers both young and old who make me keep the faith.

Thank you.

She liked it

She liked the critique, said I sounded like a pro. (Smile)

Wants more detailed advice.

Go me!

critique

Finished the Dwarf story last night and queuing up for the Spacey/ Actiony thing I'm starting tonight so just to keep productive I critiqued a young lady's work online.

Its a tricky thing with some writers. I want to give constructive advice without crushing dreams and I hope I did.
Her issues were early writer stuff, telling instead of showing, characters not detailed enough but she's doing it and I told her to keep at it.
Eh just felt like sharing.

Ghost in the forest of middlewind

It is done.

I've done all I can do for it.

On to the next one.

Baby steps

Its been a tough couple of months mood wise. What with finals from school and an ass load of personal shit that hit all at the same time I felt weighed down.

       In the midst of all that mayhem I started writing again. Actually I started editing material I'd put aside earlier in the year. It felt like writing was the only thing I could control, not that characters ever let you do that, they just allow you to think it. But the writing has helped so much. It gives me a channel for decompressing, for focusing on something other than my ceaseless whining. I'm no longer telling myself it's too late, I'm too old, or I suck at it lol. I'm just concentrating on making each line each paragraph as good as I can make it. The rest will be what it is.

Now its December and the baby steps are gone, I'm walking instead of crawling. The steps are slow and laborious (have to get back into shape. One crisis at a time people!) but headed foreword, not standing still.

I write everyday and will continue to do so. I'm also way more positive than I was. Should be finished editing "Ghost in the Forest of Goldshire"  by this weekend at the latest and I'm gonna put it up on a separate page just for Ghost's stories.

Just feeling better and wanted the few out there to know.
Ive been playing this song at home and on facebook daily for the past couple of months.
Sweet friends forgive me. I know you're sick of hearing it. This is the last time.

I just wanted to be able to look back on this one day and the song captures my emotional state.

The purge

The time finally came.

They had been with him for years

Comforting him, 

The only light in darkness

 hope when there was just the barest whisper left.

They had become his warm,comfy sanctuary.

Then his waking nightmare.

their very presence caused him pain.

They were the same physically

They behaved as they always had 

but his reception was now different.

Now he yelled at them,

cursed their exsistance

demanded they leave and never return.

They were confused.

They only wanted to bring joy like before.

One day he welcomed them again.

He embraced each,

Called them by name.

placed them against a wall

Kissed their foreheads gently

looked each one in the eye

And shot them in the head.

He didn't think they needed blindfolds

And he wanted to see the light die out.

Wanted to seem them splattered.

He felt relief.

He felt the lifting of a great weight

He knew it wouldn't stop the visits 

but they'd think long and hard about coming back.

By then he figured he'd be able to tolerate thier presence without it causing his stomach to bleed.

Random outburst

Free at last! Free at last!

great God a mighty I'm free at last!

You know what I'm talkin about. Lol

Sorry about being so cryptic. Oh well.

Supposed to be reviewing "I'm gonna get you sucka!" For a final presentation but turned on the tube (Turned on the tube, remember when that was a phrase?) and Princess Bride is on.

Gonna be late. LOL

Last class at 1230 till nxt semester then only one more. Coolness.

Tail chasing

Not so grand today.

This is theThird day here in New Orleans without sun which always affects me.

Too much thinking, something else that always affects me is here too.

Still working and still positive though. 

Watching football and studying for finals but those pesky suppressed thoughts keep pushing themselves to the forefront demanding attention.

They aren't any things that can be fixed.

They're just rhetorical, a wasted cycling of speculations accomplishing nothing.

Back to work (smile) 

goddamnit the sun is shining!

Granted it just peaked its head out for a few seconds from behind the clouds....

It brings with it a renewed sense of joy here.

I'm in the back yard right next to the Ac but the clatter doesn't annoy

Chewy is refusing to accept a proper pose so I can snap him but

Ok. That annoys some.

Still all in all a great day.

I'm planning to post a short story soon. Smoothing out the rough edges first, probably this weekend.

professors

I see you.

I see the hours you dedicate educating people who barely care

but still you are there.

I see the twinkle in your eyes when you realize

 "He gets it."

I know of the darkness you slave away in

the lack of recognition for the endless hours you dedicate for shit pay

The audacity of the students who think they've done their part by just showing up now its all on you and

 "why haven't you educated me yet?"

I have seen death
despair
loneliness
hopelessness

you face these daily and still you inspire/ aspire

I see and appreciate all you do and have done for me.

Writers

Keep the faith my brothers and sisters.

 "all you have to do is write one true sentence.

   Write the truest sentence that you know."

Ernest Hemingway.

Today

     Thinking about how words can get in the way sometimes. More to the point they can be destracting.

      

      There are days when I feel like I cannot have one more word spoken at me; hear one more voice speaking to what they find important or hope you will.

       Lately my brain screams at the noise. Even music, the one true sanctuary seems to intrude.

   Too many words on love both joy and loss and not enough "don't worry be happy's." Or "sing out" by Cat Stevens.

   Then I remembered jazz. That blissfully wordless realm it can sometimes occupy.

A few pat methenys later with some Miles did the trick.

Much better now.  :)

(Smile)
    Its a hard thing being an old man.
You spend a lifetime developing your own way of seeing and dealing with the world. You think you know how people are; how to do all the things that get you through life at this point.
You know what to do with bullies and heartbreak and where to take your stand.
Where to take your stand.

Had a long talk with Jason last night and we debated vigorously this very point.
I am so unforgiving of hurt or wrong done to me that no matter who it is I am unable to forgive. My position being I give all of me, well most of me (smile) the inner stuff you don't give to just anybody. I put my feelings, my vulnerability in your hands and hope that you're gentle with it. The thing is if you hurt me that's it. You are dead to me. I still love you, still think of you, still smile at the shared history but the door is slammed. Its a sort of scorched earth policy.

    Jason is much more insightful. To him mistakes are made and things said in the heat of passion need to be let go. His is the opposite of scorched earth. He plants seeds, goes around looking for new growth, is always willing to forgive. He burns brightly in the moment. I linger in the past worrying the old wound, I keep that shit fresh! never allowing the memory of the pain to fade.

    The trippy thing is I KNOW he's right. I know you have to let that shit go, that life is a long road and you are different people at different points on it. Rational thinking gets trumped by emotional immaturity here for me. Its a fascinating thing to be fifty eight and still such an inner child.
its a hard thing to shitcan all the defenses you've honed over those years and let things go.
I'm working on it. Hence this blurb.

Needed to get that out. (smile)