Category: writing

day off

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I’m taking the day tomorrow. Mostly, because we’ve been asked to take care of our granddaughter for the day/weekend (yes, sir! No problem, sir!), but because I am spiralling. I’m really not in a good place for work.

I feel like I’m behind, overworked, disorganized, putting way too much personal pressure on myself to meet standards and targets, and that’s not just work.

It’s me, fucking myself up.

Self-destructing, as always, and wanting to scrap it all and start again.

But I’ve done that too often.

I’ve come too far and I’m out of time.

After all, Donald Trump’s fascist state may invade or bomb us at any time. The psycho’s capable of anything, if it feeds his sad, little ego.

So, yeah.

Taking the day tomorrow.

Fuck Donald Trump.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1106 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card
Comics: Fathom v6 8, Aspen Universe: Decimation 1-3
Music: The Essential (1955-1983), Johnny Fuckin' Cash

back to work

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Well, I guess that’s it.

I’ve been torn in a thousand different directions, feel like I’m way behind on everything, and now, I have to go into the office three days out of every week, thus losing an hour of my day to prep and commute (not to mention the little moments I sneak on breaks and lunch to write, read, etc.)

This is going to hurt.

Fuck my life.

And fuck Donald Trump.

Just because.

Fuck him.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 2408 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Blackbirds, Chuck Wendig
Comics: Fathom: Kiani v4 4, The Four Points 2, Fathom: Blue 1-2
Music: Endtroducing, DJ Shadow

goodbye, weekend

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I’d hoped to find you lazy and unfilled, but instead, it’s a fucking free-for-all.

Again.

On the plus side, I found the time to really hammer down a particularly major scene in Bad Neighbours. If it all works as I planned, it (and one other particular scene) should be absolutely iconic.

There’s another scene that could also be considered iconic, but I actually left it out as an actual scene, only doing a videotaped callback to it later on.

Not sure that keeps iconic status, and becomes more plot device, played for anger and for laughs (and maybe a bit of titillation, which is a fun nod, now that I think about it.

Foreshadowing.

Doesn’t come up too much in the gross-out, cringe comedy genre.

Or does it?

Target: 1200 words
Written: 890 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Casino Royale, Ian Fleming
Comics: Fathom v4 8-9 (fuckin' Lobdell), Fathom: The Elite Saga 1-2
Music: End Of Days Soundtrack, Various

stolen away

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How do entire days get stolen from one? I went to the clinic yesterday morning regarding stomach cramps I’ve had for a couple of weeks, but naturally, they had no power, so they were closed.

Fuck me, I guess.

That should have gained me a few hours of my life back, but somehow, even with the girls working until four o’clock, that meant I was forced into a number of chores I’d been hoping to avoid for a while.

So, here we are, having lost a whole weekend of good writing and reading and generally, time alone, to fucking crap that doesn’t really matter.

I like a nice lawn as well, but who really gives a shit?

Let the bees and the birds have it, and let them reclaim this world.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1097 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Thieves' World, Asprin/Abby/Anderson/Haldeman/Offutt/Bradley/Brunner/DeWees (what an accomplishment this is, an anthology in a shared world where, for the most part, things actually flow together fairly well, though Cappen Varra and Jamie the Red are a bit off, and Marion Zimmer Bradley's offering is disturbing given her personal life.)
Comics: Fathom v3 6-8, Aspen Seasons 4
Music: The Eminem Show, Eminem

tangents

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Sometimes, when you’re writing, or making notes about your writing, you can veer off into directions you never expected. And while, yes, technically, I was writing about the contents of this particular scene, I’m not entirely certain that it warranted thirteen hundred words.

Thirteen hundreds words on the nature and placement of a money shot is a lot, don’t you think?

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1308 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Thieves' World, Assorted Chocolates
Comics: Fathom v3 2-5
Music: Eminem Essentials, Eminem

end me, week

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I don’t think I’ve felt this down in a while. I feel like everything is collapsing, and my usual techniques are not up to par.

I am working on it.

Part of me wants to burn it all down and start over (a-fucking-gain), but I’ve come too far and have too little time left to begin again.

At this point, it’s finish the chore of living or give the whole thing up.

I’m not sure what’s worse – trying constantly to make it and failing, or not bothering with it at all.

At least I’d have more free time if I gave up, more time for my family.

But this is the driver; I feel like walking death when I don’t let it out.

Let it fucking out, or let them fucking in. I don’t know which one is worse.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1084 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Thieves' World, Assorted Authors
Comics: Fathom: Kiani 4, Fathom v3 0-1, Aspen Showcase: Aspen Matthews 1
Music: Emigre, Anti-Flag

tenors

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It’s hard to write from viewpoints you don’t understand. Like, I’ve referenced the Three Tenors a couple of times in Bad Neighbours, as a symbol of higher art, but it’s something I’d never listen to. I’m sure it’s whatever, but I’m way more into people being genuine in their art; singing opera never felt truly genuine to me. It’s more about technique than emotion, more about the mastery of a skill than the genuine connection to the source material.

You can cover a song and imbue it with real meaning, but it’s when you use the song as a way to show off your skills that you lose me. It’s why I never gave a shit about Eddie Van Halen. Yeah, he was technically gifted, but there was as much genuine humanity and emotion in his work as Milli Vanilli. It’s also why I think AC/DC is brilliant. No, there’s no depth of lyrics there, and yes, Angus is as gifted as Eddie Van Halen, but you can tell when you listen to their songs, they fucking love what they do. They are themselves, unapologetically, and that, on its own, makes it worthy of a listen.

It’s the difference between a song sung with meaning in a show (see Daisy Jones & The Six) versus a standard musical. The gang covering Ooh La La had meaning to the plot, and added depth to the story. When they hamhand it into something like Riverdale or pretentious garbage like Moulin Rouge, it takes away from the story.

Musicals are bad for the same reason “show, don’t tell” is the rule in good writing. It’s exposition with a backbeat, and that pulls me right out of it. I no longer feel a connection to the characters or the material; you’re just preaching at me, and using a rhythm to do it. 

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1098 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: King Rat, China Mieville (speaking of pretention and music, really, drum & bass as the apotheosis of music, the saviour of all things and the base for communism?  Jesus, why do people like this guy?  Christ, what pretentious twaddle)
Comics: Fathom v2 9-11, Fathom: Kiani 0
Music: Elvis Costello Essential, Elvis Costello (pretention in music day all around, I guess)

ugh

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Did I ever mention how much I hate being in the office, and of course, now, as of June 23rd, we’ll be going back there three days out of every freakin’ week.

This is really going to cut into my free time. The extra time garnered by not having to get ready and commute in the morning, make lunch, etc., etc., totals nearly an hour. I’m able to read more in the office, but that really doesn’t help with my writing.

I already get up at ten to five every day; am I going to need to get up at four?

Fuck my life.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 887 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: King Rat, China Mieville
Comics: Fathom: Cannon Hawke 5, Fathom v2 7-8, Aspen Seasons 3
Music: Elton John Essentials, Elton John

edit knuckles

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You ever go back and read something you wrote and wonder, what the fuck? Why the fuck did I write that?

Why, when talking about opening a door, is the character thinking about how sticky his knuckles are?

His knuckles! How the fuck does this dude open doors?!?

Jesus, man. You got a long way to go.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1360 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Gilded Age: A Tale Of Today, Mark Twain
Comics: Hawk And Dove v2 27-28, Hawk And Dove v3 1-2 (who greenlit v3?  What a pile of fucking completely unconnected, poorly written shit.)
Music: Ed Sheeran Essentials, Ed Sheeran (fuck you, the kid seems like a dork, which is cool with me)

almost caught up

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Man, I have been busting my ass to get caught up to where I need to be to ensure all the things I need and want to do in life get done, after a vacation that was pretty hectic, and didn’t leave a lot of time for anything, let alone extras.

I don’t regret it, but the work it takes to get caught up; I’m starting to think for whatever I can, I might need to intensify the workout, so to speak, before the vacation, instead of playing catch-up afterward. Some stuff will be unavoidable, but if the major stuff is complete, the stuff that can be done ahead of time?

Well, maybe then it’s not all bad, yeah?

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1395 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Look Homeward, Angel, Thomas Wolfe (I'm pretty sure this book should have been called The Never-Ending Story, not that other one)
Comics: The Hawk And The Dove 4-6, Hawk And Dove 1
Music: East Side Story, Squeeze