Category: writing

forty-eight plus one

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And we’re back in the office.

And the office is making it very difficult to get done all the things I need to get done.

I need to get the Mungk in more hands.

I need artists, letters, colourists, an editor for Romance and Western Cradle.

I’ve more or less resigned myself to including the poetry and short stories in with The Mungk (well, maybe not the poetry – once I have enough of those, I may just do a volume of it).

But The Mungk – it needs to be seen. Romance, it’s just a calling card of a comic to build fans, a free giveaway I can hope someone enjoys, and then recognizes the creators later when we put out other stuff.

Western Cradle though – I think it’s good. It may be kind of rape-heavy, which sucks, but if we do it right, draw it right, it could be very, very strong.

But for now. The Mungk.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 1141 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: A Study In Scarlet, Arthur Conan Doyle
Comics: Deadly Class 25-26, Seven To Eternity 4, Black Science 27
Music: Experimental Jet Set, Trash And No Star, Sonic Youth (palate cleanser after Bette fucking Midler)

spic and span

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I had to look up the origin to this phrase earlier, because I left it in as a throwaway line on the last draft of Bad Neighbours (in relation to the main character worrying that the origin was racist), and I’m happy to report, it’s not.

It comes from a combination of the Norse and Dutch words for brand new.

Thank goodness.

I hate finding out things I’d taken for granted have terrible background stories (see Gaiman, Neil and the rule of thumb).

Dutch is a fucked up language, is it not?

Target: 1300 words
Written: 910 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey
Comics: Black Science 22-24, Low 15
Music: Experience, The Prodigy

on the verge

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Tomorrow, we start this back to week program. It’s only three days a week, but I’m not sure how that’s going to affect my writing schedule.

Weeks were I’m in now tend to be struggles to find time, because of the extra prep and travel time involved, but I had two weeks to catch up if things went off.

Now… every week, possibly three days where I’m having to get up earlier or stay up later or drop other things I need to do in order to keep up?

Or worse, postponing everything to try and shove them in Thursday or Friday, or that other time that we’re supposed to have time but don’t, a weekend?

I am fretting.

Yes. Fretting.

Okay, freaking out.

I want this life, and I’m tired of fighting myself for it; I certainly don’t need the rest of the world piling on.

The Mungk left me hopeless, fatalist.

Bad Neighbours only feeds my anger.

I don’t need any more anger.

I have always had more than enough.

Fuck.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 611 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Almayer's Folly, Joseph Conrad
Comics: Fear Agent 9-12
Music: Euphoria Mourning, Chris Cornell (god, I miss that voice)

don’t judge me

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Eighty-three words may not seem like a lot, but I had to pore through the entire manuscript to find a few scraps of information that I need to keep straight for the next draft. I’ll be making my notes on the next draft next, and then, working on a larger ‘out-of-context’ grouping, where I got through the whole manuscript again, and all my notes and try to find where I’ve made notes on scenes other than the one I was supposed to be making notes on (a problem of mine I’ll need to learn to track better). If I make a great suggestion in a note because I had a thought while making notes on scene five, but for scene twenty-eight, well, I’ll never remember by the time I reach that point.

So, yeah.

If I want it all included later, I need to get more organized.

Still, I’m a bit better than I was, though The Mungk needed less organization, given it was so short. A better framework will be needed going forward.

No more flying by the seat of my pants.

Maybe not even any pants at all.

Maybe a nice skirt, or a pair of waders.

Sorry.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 356 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Almayer's Folly, Joseph Conrad
Comics: Fear Agent 5-8
Music: Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, Various

second draft

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And that’s that.

I think I added enough to make it all much better than the shit pile that is always a first draft, a solid foundation that doesn’t need major adjustment (hopefully), only tweaking to take decent to good, then good to great, then great to hopefully, epic.

Transcendent, even.

And in all fairness, my expectations are low. I considered my higher expectations met for The Mungk when I knew three people had read it. If I sold twenty-five hundred copies, it’d be divine. Twenty-five thousand would probably be orgasmic.

Transcendent, even.

My expectations for Bad Neighbours are higher, because it’s more ambitious, but still. It’s within reason for a wildly successful novel. Stephen King’s worst shit probably sold more than my top expectations for this thing.

But you never know.

Someday. Orgasmic.

Transcendent, even.

One can clearly hope. The question is whether hope is anything more than a wish in one hand, and you know what in the other.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 2214 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Metrophage, Richard Kadrey
Comics: Soulfire: The Core 1-2
Music: Essential Thorogood, George Thorogood & The Destroyers

last full week from home

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At least until I become a big, successful writer and people are watching The Mungk and Bad Neighbours on the screen (working title, of course, though I’m not sure what else to call it at this point. Shelley doesn’t seem right, and Lemon is the wrong focus).

Anyway, I’m going to try and enjoy that, at least, before everything gets fucked.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 2049 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Metrophage, Richard Kadrey
Comics: Fathom v8 1-4
Music: The Essential Billy Joel, Billy (oh dear god, it got worse) Joel

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