Category: personal

home day

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Crowfest was last night, though we sat on the patio and saw little of it.

There were ripped, sexy people playing with fire, and an Eastern European man balancing things with his tongue.

A hipster boy who somehow played guitar and keyboard at the same time.

And now, absolutely nothing.

A day, to edit.

Hallelujah, hallelujah, glory hallelujah.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 1994 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: The First 20 Hours, Josh Kaufmann
Comics: Cloak And Dagger v2 8-11
Music: Hangin' Tough, New Kids On The Block (this is a crime against art and music)

there i was, catching up

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But I’m in the doldrums, the part of the work that takes the longest.

Writing, without having to pause to review, takes the least time. I generally average about fifteen hundred words an hour, but that’s a bit of a misnomer.

If I’m hammering out a first draft, or stream-of-consciousness writing thoughts on particular chapter or theme, that time flies by. That hour is more like forty minutes.

Editing is editing. The time is the time. I say fifteen hundred words takes an hour, that means I sit and edit for an hour straight, no stopsies.

But the specific notes I make on scenes, reading the scene, jotting down changes I’d like to make, or ideas that I had, these come in tiny increments, and that hour suddenly equals two.

That’s where shit becomes an issue.

Someday, I’d like to be able to do six thousand words a day, but if it’s all this kind of stuff, that means eight straight hours of notes, which is a bit of a nightmare. Definitely can’t be done with a regular job on the side.

So, either I have to find a better way, less notes, more feel, more and faster iterations/drafts, or gut it out.

Or just get used to the fact that when this part hits…

I will fall behind.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 1452 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: How To Read Nature, Tristan Gooley (perspective and systems and complex connections based on simple precepts, woo, sign me the fuck up.  You tickled my genius' g-spot with that one.)
Comics: Cloak And Dagger v2 4-7
Music: Hang-Ups, Goldfinger (terrific album)

i think i’m happy with that

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Sometimes, I feel like I’m too repetitive.

In The Mungk, it was semi-intentional. The metaphor was for trauma causing hopelessness, paralysis, as the world fell apart around you, and you descended into mindless hell.

In The Conflagration of Boor and Aghast, it’s used for some dramatic effect; Walter’s interactions with the dog, for example, grew increasingly tense, until, well, I don’t want to say until the book is released. It would be a shame to spoil it, if anyone actually cared.

In this one though, it seems out of place, and I feel like I’ve done it a lot.

Like the story could go in a crazy direction, but it doesn’t. I doesn’t really need to, but it’s a paranormal horror novel; it should a little.

I don’t know.

Is it weak? Is it thin?

Fuck, it feels thin.

Perhaps I’m not the man I thought I was.

Perhaps in the next one, one must get truly, truly insane.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 1873 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Armada, Ernest Cline
Comics: Capes 3-5, Invincible Universe: Battle Beast 7
Music: Hallelujah! I'm A Bum, Local H (I always wanted to be one of those, though the reality of it has ripped the romanticism away; I think it had more to do with the idea of being happy no matter the circumstance.  A rejection of material things, an embrace of the present, no matter its conditions.  In retrospect, a bit naive, if well intentioned.)

soooo tired

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So, so fucking tired.

How come the universe lets you have crazy dreams all night as a method of processing the sub/unconscious, but doesn’t let you have a goddamn night’s rest?

Huh, universe?

Am I sick of people or what?

Thanks, local mayoral and council candidates, for weeding yourselves out with your pro-AI data farm stance.

I was having trouble sifting through who’s what, and now I know.

There’s a few names off the list.

Fuck AI.

For the record, AI companies – none of you have any permission to use any of my work ever, for any reason, under any circumstances.

Or you can, but the cost is a billion dollars a word.

In other words, fuck you.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 1832 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Armada, Ernest Cline
Comics: Invincible 141-144
Music: Half-Hour Of Power, Sum 41

how close am i?

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I’ve given myself until sometime in November to finish this book, but these middle scenes that I’m working on now?

They seem so far from complete, like the gasoline scene in The Conflagration of Boor and Aghast that I can’t seem to bear to rewrite, even though it desperately needs it and I know exactly what I want out of it.

It just seems like so much.

And so much is what I’m trying to avoid right now.

I would like to be done, but as it is said, because we have no other options…

The only way out is through.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 1373 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Radical Compassion, Tara Brach
Comics: Invincible 129-132
Music: Hail To The Thief, Radiohead (so good)

redactions may end my life

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I don’t think I’ve ever been so terminally bored at work. Like, I might actually just nod off to sleep and not come back, since my mind has decided it can’t take any more of it.

The worst.

The absolute FUCKING worst.

Although, I suppose it could be worse. I could work in a sewer, or with other people’s shit or something.

I get enough of that with our dogs and cats.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 1726 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Anyone, Charles Soule
Comics: Invincible 126-128, Tech Jacket v2 12
Music: Hacks | Official Playlist, Various (I really wanted this to be better, because the actual soundtrack was so good)

september

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There’s some kind of song about this. Right, Earth, Wind & Fire?

No. Green Day.

No.

Fuck.

How is it September?

Life is moving at light speed.

And I don’t even get the aging in reverse effect.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 2031 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Anyone, Charles Soule
Comics: Invincible 123-125, Tech Jacket v2 11
Music: Hackney Diamonds, The Rolling Stones

sleepover

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Well, that was cool. A little awkward, but it’s nice that she loves us that much. Our granddaughter decided she wanted to sleepover between us in the tiny bed we have at my stepson’s.

Not having had small children, I’ve never had that. I understand it’s mildly fraught, and also a pain in the ass for many parents, but it actually worked out. We all slept well, there wasn’t any snoring or kicking or anything that kept anyone up.

It was just peaceful.

I know, weird, whatever, and some of you will jump to the worst conclusions, thereby ruining what was actually a pretty goddamn wholesome moment.

Sometimes, people, things are just nice.

Get over it.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 2068 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Anyone, Charles Soule
Comics: Invincible 117-119, Tech Jacket v2 9
Music: H.A.A.R.P. Live From Wembley, Muse

apple pickin’

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What a wholesome fuckin’ day.

Brunch and skipping stones on the beach, racing leaves through the rapids of a small stream, then picking ginger golds ripe from the tree.

Doesn’t get much better than that, kid.

Target: 1700 words
Written: 908 words, novel: Father Lightning

Read: Anyone, Charles Soule
Comics: Tech Jacket v2 6-8, Invincible 116
Music: Futures, Jimmy Eat World