Monday, April 27, 2015

Writer Blocked

It has been over 90 days since I've been with a woman...

I don't know how much longer I'm going to last. All the women around me, single, married, available or not, are starting to look really, really good.

The good news is that I've managed to somehow alienate all the women who would be willing to, you know. This past week has been one cold shoulder after another.

***

First, let me say that I do not believe I ever get an ailment called "writer's block." There are legitimate medical reasons for me to stop creating when I want to create, but I do not believe there is a specific ailment that targets me.

Or other writers for that matter. It seems like the silliness of writers. Woe is me! I am stricken by the writer's block...

That's sexier than me saying that I want to do something else. The main reason for not writing is procrastination.

Say it with me: I procrastinate.

My Josephine recently posted an article about such a thing; she likes to wander through the website, thoughtcatalog.com, and read things there that she later shares on Facebook. It was hilarious to read. Maybe you'll find it funny too.

Article link.

Usually, when I can't seem to put down words on digital paper it's because I want to do something else. Oh, you know... get on Facebook. Research something. Read a book. Get laid. etc. etc.

Right now I'm in this situation. My writing slowed in April. One reason is that I want to open up that other Word document and work on another story; since I'm double-dipping this month. Another reason is that the LAX story is becoming more complex, requiring more time to "think" or develop its chapters. When that happens, my writing slows to give my creativity an opportunity to go to work.

Okay, so all of that is my way of excusing it. What I really think is happening is that I'm sad.

I've had to say goodbye to a good number of people I work with, more than I have in recent memory. They're moving on to other things and leaving the positions they have now.

As you can imagine, trying to write something funny when you're sad is difficult. There is also the sadness that comes from being at a point where you're almost done with a story you like.

It's sad because once I'm done, that will be all the time I get with those characters. I won't see them again unless I write another story with them.

I could read my stories over and over again, but that lacks something. A completed story to me is like an old photo album full of images of people I won't ever see again. It's funny. I can re-read a novel I like and feel like the experiences with those characters is new and they're there for me. But my own work is different.

The stories I write are time capsules almost. They tell me about a period during which I worked on the story and did my best to overcome its challenges. Struggling. Struggling.

Ah, I remember that paragraph! I spent weeks writing and re-writing it. And then I took it apart again when revising! Oh, the good times doing that...

***

Well, there's a few days left in April and I will work on the LAX story some more. I won't finish, but I'm going to be writing again. I mean, just look at how much I'm writing here this month.

I'm not blocked. I am blocking myself with sadness. But enough of that...

Sadness bores me. 





LC / LA








Monday, April 20, 2015

Sad Puppies and a Sluggish April

The days in April have been sluggish.

There. That's all I wanted to say about that.

***

I'm not going to draft Verifiable Man this year. The contest I wanted to enter it into will not happen in 2015. I'm sad. That means that other projects will take its place. That's always how it is with this writing thing.

The other night I went to a book release event in San Pedro. It was for a book called A Wailing of a Town. It was hot in there and I felt so out of place that all I did was stare. My hope was to meet some interesting types to write about. It's also my simple pleasure to meet with and speak to other artists to see what they are like and if I fit in with them or not.


***

Lately, I've been having fun reading about this mess with the Hugo awards for 2015. I remember Brad R. Torgersen from his days when we were both Writers of the Future hopefuls (he was a hopeful, I was just hopeful in general). Now, he has the attention of everyone in the Science Fiction and Fantasy industry. It's an interesting turn in his career.

Oh, I won't bother with the politics of the puppy scandal. There are better (and more invested) men and women already thinking and over-thinking the politics of this thing. And you know me and politics, Bartholomew. They amuse me. My own beliefs are so complex that they go beyond the simple Right wing, Left wing politics of this country. Because of that, I can have fun watching them go at it.

Puppies, puppies everywhere! Look at that one over there. He's got foam in his little mouth! Watch out! And that one over there is sad. I'm a dog person, so seeing a sad puppy makes me sad. Why did they pick puppies? I think iguanas would have been better. An iguana has an excellent poker face. You never know what they're thinking.

But here's what I'm thinking...

I'm actually surprised that no one figured out before now that you could do that with the Hugos (although, the dog people argue that, yeah, there are groups that did).

What was it that Plato said? That a democratic system is "full of variety and disorder"? That applies to this issue. Just what did the people running the Hugos think would happen? That the voters are virtuous and would maintain a fair playing field for all participants? People are people. They take advantage of and exploit the weaknesses of any system when they can. Who cares about the motivations for doing it. Motivations are like assholes. Everyone has one; and on some people, they stink. People will always convince themselves and anyone they can that they are on the moral side of any issue and that their opponents are on the immoral side. It's just human nature to do this.

If anyone cares to "fix" the way Hugos are given out, they should read the Federalist number 10, written by James Madison. It has some interesting ideas on the subject. True, it is written with a system of government in mind, but its philosophies apply to any organization that wishes to use a democratic (pure democratic) ballot to issue awards. They may come up with an electoral college of writers, separate from the popular vote of fans. And maybe there will be a little senate to decide ties. Hopefully, none of the ballots get stuck in the bathroom.

Of course, as soon as they tighten up the rules for the Hugos, its voters will find another way to outsmart them.

Ha!


LC / LA



Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Starving

If I'm walking funny it's because the IRS just fist-fucked me up the ass. Geez! I'm earning a very decent income now, but tax season really got me. It goes to show that every silver lining has a sea of dark clouds attached to it.

I may go back to being poor just to receive a tax refund instead of paying. The lesson here is that I need to be more careful with my earnings. Now I know what to expect next year.

For now, it's back to eating cup-o-noodles for a while.



***

It has been over eighty days since I have been with a woman. This is good news for a sex addict like myself. The thing is...

I had a near-miss the other night with a woman who could end up being my girlfriend. No dice. I kept thinking about she-who-must-not-be-named, the ANA woman who is my Josephine. It wouldn't go up at all. That goes to show that women can cock-block a fellow even from a remote distance.

Sigh...

This is an unusual situation for me. The universe is giving me more opportunities than ever to create a lasting relationship with a woman and yet, it's all falling apart. Remember I said that I didn't want to mess with women this year to focus on my work? Ha. Ha!

The universe, Fortuna, Lady Luck, God, Fate, Chaos (call this entity whatever you like) had other ideas.

I don't understand it.




***

That ends our weekly installment of "Days of My Sexless Life." Now that I got that drama out of the way, I can talk about fiction. The really ridiculous good news is that the drama, the episodes of my current life, all make their way to my fiction.

In the past few months I have gotten more ideas for the LAX story from direct experiences than for any other story. It bothers me to an extent to put so much of myself in a book. But that's the point, right?

Putting yourself on the page involves more than fictionalizing the events of your life. A writer has to find their voice and be proud of it when he/she does.

For example, my fictional voice doesn't sound like Cormac McCarthy and not like John Steinbeck. No matter what I do, I don't sound like them. That's okay, though.

The other night, while working on The Sprite, I read over a passage that I had altered a little. I liked it because it had my voice in it, where before it was bland. Before, I was trying to write in a certain way that never succeeded because I wasn't into it.

It's helping me write the LAX story. My progress this month has slowed, but I expected that since I'm giving my attention to other projects (and since I now have to work a few extra days to help pay my tax debt!).




LC