there was nothing good about today

Nothing. I’ll write up a whole thing tomorrow about our baby girl and how much she meant to us, but I’m dehydrated from tears and the sweat of digging a grave in thirty-degree-celsius heat (not to mention lack of sleep), and I’ve got a pounding headache.

Suffice it to say, we’ve lost something beautiful today, and my heart hangs in tattered shreds.

People say they’re just animals, but fuck them. Anyone who doesn’t understand the love between a person and their pet is emotionally stunted.

You might as well take your heart and throw it in a river, for all the good it’s doing, you soulless jerk.

Sorry, I’ve never gotten over the comment about our first loss: “It’s just a cat.”

Fuck you, bitch. Fuck you.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1048 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Rocket Ship Galileo, Robert Heinlein
Comics: Death Or Glory 11, Low 23-25
Music: Warp Bootleg, CKY

tomorrow is going to suck

I’ll have a lot more to say on that tomorrow, but suffice it to say, the day is going to be a real bummer.

The anticipation is almost worse than the act itself; neither of which makes me feel anything but horrid.

I’m so sorry, baby.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 701 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Rocket Ship Galileo, Robert Heinlein
Comics: Deadly Class 43-44, Death Or Glory 9-10
Music: Warning, Green Day

l names

There’s a bit in Bad Neighbours regarding last names, so I’ve been trying to come up with as many similar sounding L names as possible. I think I’ve managed it, but well, I’ve hit a wall and then I had to look it up.

My brain is jello.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 43 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Myths & Texts, Gary Snyder
Comics: Death And Glory 6-8, Deadly Class 42
Music: War Sucks, Let's Party!, Anti-Flag (damn straight)

i’m probably going to take some heat for that

Yesterday’s post, but I truly believe that innocent until proven guilty is the way to go. I don’t know the reality of what happened that night but what was presented in court (and I’ll fully admit to reading only the final verdict, because I always like to withhold judgment until I know enough facts to make a decision), but I do know that those boys were convicted in the court of public opinion way before there was even a trial.

Before anyone even knew anything beyond the broadest strokes of the allegations rendered.

And that’s not right. If they were guilty, fuck ’em, but as a society, we are beholden to be better than this. We need to be better toward the victims, less instantly assumptive about the presumption of guilt.

An accusation does not equal guilt. It doesn’t guarantee innocence.

It’s a statement, like a hypothesis in science. We believe this is what happened; now let’s check the facts and parse the logic to see if that adds up.

The law must be dispassionate; I know we’re all into victimhood these days, and certainly, underserved communities and minorities are due a major review and reconstruction of the social contract.

But innocent until proven guilty is not one of them.

If you don’t understand that, if you would rather presume guilt and refuse to change your mind, no matter the evidence against, well, then, I’m sorry. We are going to disagree.

And for that, I will be crucified.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1838 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Odds On, John Crichton (Michael Lange)
Comics: Black Science 42-43, Deadly Class 40-41
Music: War On The Blvd, Sublime

martyrs and charlatans

I once saw a chart that showed someone who worked super hard but made no connections versus someone who didn’t work, but made nothing but connections, and basically, it stuck them in two categories.

All work and no connection creates self-imposed martyrdom, while all connection and no work creates charlatans. Bullshitters versus drudge horses, with those that can find the balance (working hard and creating worthwhile things versus connecting with fans, with industry leaders and insiders, in a genuine, non-bullshit manner) as the true exceptions, the step above the rest. A martyr can find its work recognized and suddenly reach popularity, only to flame out over time (but still leaving behind good work).

A charlatan can become popular for nothing, and lose everything and be leave nothing behind.

I’m a martyr right now, that’s for sure.

May I never be a charlatan.

May I someday find the balance.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1114 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Odds On, John Lange (Michael Crichton)
Comics: Deadly Class 37-38, Black Science 39, Low 21
Music: War, U2

diagonal

And I thought yesterday was bad.

Look out, world, here I flop on my face.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1304 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Poorhouse Fair, John Updike
Comics: Deadly Class 35, Death Or Glory 3, Black Science 37, Seven To Eternity 10
Music: Walk On The Wild Side: The Best Of Lou Reed, Lou Reed

sidewaysssss

That’s how things have gone today. Tomorrow doesn’t promise to be much better.

On the plus side, I’m almost done planning for the new draft (with a few sidetracks) of Bad Neighbours.

I expect to be editing within the next week.

Hopefully, I can get something done while we’re away.

Working on time, instead of word count, has it benefits and detractions – it requires a set butt-in-seat time, and hitting a word target for me usually takes less time, unless I’m making notes like I’ve been doing, then it’s a combo, and takes longest of all.

Freeform works best; editing is the middle road.

Agonizing over the specific word, is it strong enough? Is it accurate? Am I being too precious?

Am I precious?

Or am I nothing at all?

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1307 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Poorhouse Fair, John Updike (speaking of precious)
Comics: Death Or Glory 1-2, Deadly Class 34, Black Science 36
Music: Walk Among Us, Misfits

old friends, part deux

These ones we see more often, but it’s been a year since I went.

Not my favourite group, but they are what they are, and my stepdaughter loves them, and my wife and the mother get along very well.

But the dogs will enjoy it; being out on the patio is always fun for them.

Especially when there’s french fries, am I right?

These pups are spoiled silly.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1230 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Poorhouse Fair, John Updike
Comics: Black Science 34-35, Deadly Class 32-33
Music: Wake Me Up When September Ends, Green Day (please)

old friends

Even if they’re not mine, it’s nice. You’ve been through enough together that it can be a nice, genuine evening.

Or fraught, if the relationship was a perilous one.

My wife has seen both ends of that spectrum this week, and honestly, it’s so refreshing to be around people without all the weird family politics or selfish interests.

You’re just catching up.

It’s nice.

People should be nicer to each other.

Less fighting. Less either/or.

More us and.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1389 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Grass Is Singing, Doris Lessing
Comics: Black Science 31-33, Deadly Class 31
Music: Waiting For Herb, The Pogues

misheard lyrics

It happens all the time (there’s a bathroom on the right, anyone?)

The worst one I can think, for myself, was my confusion (and when it comes on the radio I still hear it) over Poker Face by Lady Gaga.

I mean, I know, ostensibly, that she’s saying P-P-P-Poker Face, but no matter how many times it comes on, or how hard I listen, it still sounds like F-F-F-Fuck Her Face.

And that’s not a slight, even though I think Lady Gaga is vastly overrated. It’s just how it comes across, every time.

No matter how much I try, how I tell myself what it actually is, it still sounds the same.

We hear what we want to hear, I guess?

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1146 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Grass Is Singing, Doris Lessing (it's keeping my interest, but man, so bleak)
Comics: Seven To Eternity 8-9, Low 19, Deadly Class 30
Music: Eye Of The Tiger, Survivor