I sat down at my computer today to write on my novel. It was about 7 PM, I was beyond full from the mountains of carbohydrates I had shoveled into my mouth all day, and the story was about as dry as a dead woman's vagina. I decided to shove off, go sit back down on the couch, and maybe play some World of Warcraft--because yes, that will further me as a writer.
I don't know why, even right now, I decided to stay on my computer. I did though; I decided to look up a self published millionaire, and see just what the fuck she did to get all those millions of dollar bills (her name is Amanda Hocking: I'm not a fan of her writing, but she's doing something right). Then for the next forty minutes I read her; then I read the guy she pointed me to; then I read a bunch of guys he pointed me to. All of them, everyone--even Hocking, who, from what I see writes closer to Meyers then Rowling--work harder than me. All of them spend more time with their work, more time marketing their work, more time fucking writing.
Amanda Hocking wrote a book in like six days. For anyone who doesn't write, that would be akin to graduating four years of college in about a year. It's insane, and yet she did it. At my current rate of writing, I'll probably be published around the age of fifty. I'm not sure that's going to cut it for me. I love my 'day job' right now, am actually missing it over the break--but the saying says true: doing what you love and loving what you do are very different things. I'm not doing what I love, and at this rate, I'll be close to getting my government sponsored retirement by the time I do.
In the past two weeks I've had two things click in me. One is about fitness, the lack of dedication I've shown. The other is writing, and the lack of dedication I've shown. To some, it's a ridiculous notion. I've written 2/3rds of the days I've been alive since I was twenty. Compared to people who truly put the work in, the Kings, the Martins, the Amanda F'n Hockings, I'm pathetic. The fitness thing clicked, literally, like a cog falling into place. I'm afraid, not quite terrified but close, that this isn't going to click. That tomorrow I'm going to wake up, start my timer, and then walk off--leaving the work for another day. If I do that, if I don't get serious, then what's the point?
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Count Me Out.
Today I was going to write about charity, and then it happened.
The political machine began revving up its engine, gears starting to turn, little minions pouring oil on the pistons, smoke beginning to drift into the atmosphere.
Count Me In. Joe is in. Are you?
I realize that I cannot influence the outcome of this election. The drones have already drawn the line in the sane, and no one dare cross it.
If anything this is a simple call for sanity. For a brief acknowledgement that you were duped, and that I was in a vague haze two years ago. If you can read this and understand even for a second that what these people are feeding you is poisonous, even one person, then....well, then nothing. Shit still won't change.
You elected change in Barack H. Obama. What you got was George W. Bush with a tan. He has intruded more into the private sector without actually adding any accountability to the people that put our society on the brink of collapse. He has continued two wars, and now added a third to our plate. He has created a monstrosity that won't ever be killed or controlled in Obamacare. Every week we find out new information about this, and truly no one understands it a year later.
The system perpetuates itself by putting forth candidates that expand government, and limit freedoms. Voting Republican or Democrat only serves to help perpetuate it. When the first black president does nearly the exact same things as the last white president, from a different political party, what are you voting for anymore? Who are you trusting in? What are you actually counting yourself in?
If you're voting for him because he's black, don't. He lied to you. The change you wanted, the hope you chased, has done nothing in the past two years. Our economy is bleak, our wars endless, and the Patriot Act continues to infiltrate your most private information.
If you're voting for him because he's a democrat, don't. There is very little difference between the two parties, and in a two party system, meaningful change is gridlocked anyway. Private and public interests are so over represented with paychecks and free hookers for politicians, that it doesn't matter who you vote for--the checks are too large for your vote to stop the vested interests.
I challenge you to name one meaningful difference between the previous president and the current one. Even when they disagree (the gay marriage ordeal) they still agree in how to go about it (unconstitutionally).
Don't buy into the slogans. Don't listen to the illogical. When a candidate is derided by both sides, they might be onto something (see: Ron Paul). However, following someone because they make enthusiastic speeches, and yet give you two years of the same bullshit that has been shoveled for decades, means you are either an idiot or criminally insane.
I'm not advocating a non voting policy, only a rational thinking one. For me, it's beginning to make more and more sense not to vote, however, if you can just start to see through some of the ridiculous notions that these politicians put out, then that is a start.
Here is a tidbit from the reelection campaign for our Commander in Chief: The 2012 campaign is just getting started -- and it will belong to us. With our ideas, our inspiration, and our hard work, we can continue to build a better America together.
Building a better America? Do you think you're better off now than when ole Bushey Boy was in office? Do you think this guy is any more honest than him? Do you think that your ideas are being included in this discussion that decides our future?
Because I don't.
The political machine began revving up its engine, gears starting to turn, little minions pouring oil on the pistons, smoke beginning to drift into the atmosphere.
Count Me In. Joe is in. Are you?
I realize that I cannot influence the outcome of this election. The drones have already drawn the line in the sane, and no one dare cross it.
If anything this is a simple call for sanity. For a brief acknowledgement that you were duped, and that I was in a vague haze two years ago. If you can read this and understand even for a second that what these people are feeding you is poisonous, even one person, then....well, then nothing. Shit still won't change.
You elected change in Barack H. Obama. What you got was George W. Bush with a tan. He has intruded more into the private sector without actually adding any accountability to the people that put our society on the brink of collapse. He has continued two wars, and now added a third to our plate. He has created a monstrosity that won't ever be killed or controlled in Obamacare. Every week we find out new information about this, and truly no one understands it a year later.
The system perpetuates itself by putting forth candidates that expand government, and limit freedoms. Voting Republican or Democrat only serves to help perpetuate it. When the first black president does nearly the exact same things as the last white president, from a different political party, what are you voting for anymore? Who are you trusting in? What are you actually counting yourself in?
If you're voting for him because he's black, don't. He lied to you. The change you wanted, the hope you chased, has done nothing in the past two years. Our economy is bleak, our wars endless, and the Patriot Act continues to infiltrate your most private information.
If you're voting for him because he's a democrat, don't. There is very little difference between the two parties, and in a two party system, meaningful change is gridlocked anyway. Private and public interests are so over represented with paychecks and free hookers for politicians, that it doesn't matter who you vote for--the checks are too large for your vote to stop the vested interests.
I challenge you to name one meaningful difference between the previous president and the current one. Even when they disagree (the gay marriage ordeal) they still agree in how to go about it (unconstitutionally).
Don't buy into the slogans. Don't listen to the illogical. When a candidate is derided by both sides, they might be onto something (see: Ron Paul). However, following someone because they make enthusiastic speeches, and yet give you two years of the same bullshit that has been shoveled for decades, means you are either an idiot or criminally insane.
I'm not advocating a non voting policy, only a rational thinking one. For me, it's beginning to make more and more sense not to vote, however, if you can just start to see through some of the ridiculous notions that these politicians put out, then that is a start.
Here is a tidbit from the reelection campaign for our Commander in Chief: The 2012 campaign is just getting started -- and it will belong to us. With our ideas, our inspiration, and our hard work, we can continue to build a better America together.
Building a better America? Do you think you're better off now than when ole Bushey Boy was in office? Do you think this guy is any more honest than him? Do you think that your ideas are being included in this discussion that decides our future?
Because I don't.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
A Rave's Meaning for Humanity
Okay, admittedly I'm fifteen years late here. I wasn't even really aware that raves existed anymore outside of Europe (grant it, I'm not very cultured).
I found myself at one last night though. I managed to skip out on all the hardcore drugs that were obviously being passed around, as I think that time in my life has lost any temptation it once had over me. So I was able to look at the nonsense taking place in front of me with a somewhat sober eye.
What I saw wasn't pretty.
I remember thinking, as I watched bodies pulsate on the floor, people pop x, and a DJ continually scream 'fuck yes', that the human race has created nuclear power, put satellites around the world, found a semi-cure for AIDS, and a number of other wondrous creations. Yet, here we are, a highly evolved species (comparably speaking, of course), allowing strange men to finger fuck us on a dance floor. Here we are, shaking our heads to nearly unrecognizable beats, screaming our lurid curse words, banging into anyone next to us, and for what? To have a good time?
If I ever begin to think that there is much of a separation from humans and animals, I only need to visit a rave to remind me that we are inherently linked in some primal way. We have a need to reproduce, to act out violently, and something the majority of animals don't possess--a need to go against logic and generally endanger ourselves.
Sure, I can hear people calling me pretentious, saying judge not, lest ye be judged. And that's fine, I'll wear that. It still doesn't go against the argument that on the weekends, the human race endears itself closer to the animal race, and for hours on end subject our bodies and minds to near depravity.
Yet then we get angry at Wall Street when those fucks do the same thing?
If there is any clue about the human race to be found at a rave, it is simply that we are constantly sowing the seeds of our own destruction.
I found myself at one last night though. I managed to skip out on all the hardcore drugs that were obviously being passed around, as I think that time in my life has lost any temptation it once had over me. So I was able to look at the nonsense taking place in front of me with a somewhat sober eye.
What I saw wasn't pretty.
I remember thinking, as I watched bodies pulsate on the floor, people pop x, and a DJ continually scream 'fuck yes', that the human race has created nuclear power, put satellites around the world, found a semi-cure for AIDS, and a number of other wondrous creations. Yet, here we are, a highly evolved species (comparably speaking, of course), allowing strange men to finger fuck us on a dance floor. Here we are, shaking our heads to nearly unrecognizable beats, screaming our lurid curse words, banging into anyone next to us, and for what? To have a good time?
If I ever begin to think that there is much of a separation from humans and animals, I only need to visit a rave to remind me that we are inherently linked in some primal way. We have a need to reproduce, to act out violently, and something the majority of animals don't possess--a need to go against logic and generally endanger ourselves.
Sure, I can hear people calling me pretentious, saying judge not, lest ye be judged. And that's fine, I'll wear that. It still doesn't go against the argument that on the weekends, the human race endears itself closer to the animal race, and for hours on end subject our bodies and minds to near depravity.
Yet then we get angry at Wall Street when those fucks do the same thing?
If there is any clue about the human race to be found at a rave, it is simply that we are constantly sowing the seeds of our own destruction.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sleep
I have this need to accomplish things. Most people do, but I think most people's accomplishment needs could be satisfied with completely watching all The Office episodes ever made (I have, booyah). Me though, I want an asterisk next to my name in the annuls of history--something that says: hey, this guy was just a bit different. He did a bit more for humanity than the rest.
That's all well and great, but it leads me to my current problem. I need sleep, like a lot. I have friends that can run on fours per night, wake up after a heavy night of pounding alcohol and start cleaning. I need sleep like a plant needs sun. If I don't get it, I shrivel up and die. I love naps. I once said a day without a nap is a day not worth living. In fact, sometimes on the weekends I sleep ten hours at night, then take a two hour nap during the day, and in between play video games. It's a grand existence.
However, I realize that this sleep obsession of mine is horrible when it comes to shaping that little star next to my name. I've been researching for years on ways to combat sleep, short of buying a pound of meth and gettin' busy. Came across something called biphasic sleep this week, and I'm trying it.
You sleep 4.5 hours at night and take a 1.5 hour nap during the day. Right now, I hate my life. My body aches, my mind is slow, and I have no desire to do anything except stare at walls and think about sleeping. It's only day 1, and it's supposed to get easier.
I want more hours to accomplish things. More hours to write, more hours to read, more hours to work on things in my classroom. If I could not sleep at all, I'd totally do it.
That's all well and great, but it leads me to my current problem. I need sleep, like a lot. I have friends that can run on fours per night, wake up after a heavy night of pounding alcohol and start cleaning. I need sleep like a plant needs sun. If I don't get it, I shrivel up and die. I love naps. I once said a day without a nap is a day not worth living. In fact, sometimes on the weekends I sleep ten hours at night, then take a two hour nap during the day, and in between play video games. It's a grand existence.
However, I realize that this sleep obsession of mine is horrible when it comes to shaping that little star next to my name. I've been researching for years on ways to combat sleep, short of buying a pound of meth and gettin' busy. Came across something called biphasic sleep this week, and I'm trying it.
You sleep 4.5 hours at night and take a 1.5 hour nap during the day. Right now, I hate my life. My body aches, my mind is slow, and I have no desire to do anything except stare at walls and think about sleeping. It's only day 1, and it's supposed to get easier.
I want more hours to accomplish things. More hours to write, more hours to read, more hours to work on things in my classroom. If I could not sleep at all, I'd totally do it.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Thoughts on Libya
I'm a horrible person. I can't keep a blog running to save my life. I'm doomed as a writer because of this.
Moving on.
We're in another war, now. I think that puts us at three, and that must be some kind of record. Don't listen to the President telling you there aren't 'boots on the ground'. We have special forces in there right now.
There is an extremely strong humanitarian argument to be made in Libya. A vicious dictator was about to destroy a resistance to his rule. Mass murder was going to occur. Someone needed to help, right?
As a humanist, I agree with the above statement. As a lover of my life, I do not. I find it funny that the people who argue about intervening in Libya have not joined the Peace Corps or the Army and picked up a gun. Not a single one from Sean Hannity to the annoying bitch I got into this with on facebook took a plane flight over there and helped a single person. Also, I sure as hell am not picking up a gun to go help those people. An argument can be made that our military is paid to do such things. That is true. However, a tax argument against this can be made to say that plenty of Americans don't think we should be in there, so there money should not be spent in that area.
A large number of missiles have been launched, at 1.5 million a pop. I can't get enough books for my classroom. That's another problem.
We have no moral obligation to be over there, at all. Kids from Atlanta, Georgia have no moral obligation to go to Libya and help a foreign people overthrow a foreign dictator. It's ludicrous. If you feel differently about this, you should pick up some weapon and march on over there. But please, from President Obama to facebook experts, stop saying we have a moral obligation to help these people if you're unwilling to do it. There is no 'we'. Perhaps you feel that obligation. I don't. Don't use my money or my body to do it.
Moving on.
We're in another war, now. I think that puts us at three, and that must be some kind of record. Don't listen to the President telling you there aren't 'boots on the ground'. We have special forces in there right now.
There is an extremely strong humanitarian argument to be made in Libya. A vicious dictator was about to destroy a resistance to his rule. Mass murder was going to occur. Someone needed to help, right?
As a humanist, I agree with the above statement. As a lover of my life, I do not. I find it funny that the people who argue about intervening in Libya have not joined the Peace Corps or the Army and picked up a gun. Not a single one from Sean Hannity to the annoying bitch I got into this with on facebook took a plane flight over there and helped a single person. Also, I sure as hell am not picking up a gun to go help those people. An argument can be made that our military is paid to do such things. That is true. However, a tax argument against this can be made to say that plenty of Americans don't think we should be in there, so there money should not be spent in that area.
A large number of missiles have been launched, at 1.5 million a pop. I can't get enough books for my classroom. That's another problem.
We have no moral obligation to be over there, at all. Kids from Atlanta, Georgia have no moral obligation to go to Libya and help a foreign people overthrow a foreign dictator. It's ludicrous. If you feel differently about this, you should pick up some weapon and march on over there. But please, from President Obama to facebook experts, stop saying we have a moral obligation to help these people if you're unwilling to do it. There is no 'we'. Perhaps you feel that obligation. I don't. Don't use my money or my body to do it.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Fear
Twenty minutes every night shouldn't be that big of a deal. Twenty minutes, no edits, and no real direction. If I can that for a month, I'll be beyond happy with myself.
The problem with writing novels, is that it takes so goddamn long for anyone to hear what you have to say. Months and months of writing, locked away in a room, where no one is allowed to read it. It gets annoying, especially for a writer like me, who writes to be read. Certainly there are the Emily Dickinson types, who write only for themselves, but I don't fall into that category. Some might say she is more noble than writers like myself, but I doubt it. She wrote because she had to. I do the same. I think that there was probably a lot of fear under Dickinson's choice to not be read. I've never researched her, and there are probably a lot of theories on her reasons why, but if I had to bet ten dollars, I'd say she was scared.
We all are. My biggest fear...I sat here for a few second and realized that didn't really apply to me. There are a hundred fears about this gig. Still, you keep writing, day in and day out, year in and year out, in hopes that you write something that just might make a few people turn a page a bit faster than the last person he read.
I often wonder what kind of fears people in 'regular' jobs have. If they fear failure in their job, or if it's like Office Space says: you're just working hard enough to not get fired. We're all just waiting for the weekends, right?
The problem with writing novels, is that it takes so goddamn long for anyone to hear what you have to say. Months and months of writing, locked away in a room, where no one is allowed to read it. It gets annoying, especially for a writer like me, who writes to be read. Certainly there are the Emily Dickinson types, who write only for themselves, but I don't fall into that category. Some might say she is more noble than writers like myself, but I doubt it. She wrote because she had to. I do the same. I think that there was probably a lot of fear under Dickinson's choice to not be read. I've never researched her, and there are probably a lot of theories on her reasons why, but if I had to bet ten dollars, I'd say she was scared.
We all are. My biggest fear...I sat here for a few second and realized that didn't really apply to me. There are a hundred fears about this gig. Still, you keep writing, day in and day out, year in and year out, in hopes that you write something that just might make a few people turn a page a bit faster than the last person he read.
I often wonder what kind of fears people in 'regular' jobs have. If they fear failure in their job, or if it's like Office Space says: you're just working hard enough to not get fired. We're all just waiting for the weekends, right?
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Killing My Darlings, For the First Time
I thin kit was Hemmingway that said you had to kill your darlings. I'm murdering the fuckers left and right.
When I first began writing, seriously- not just in a haphazard fashion- I was a 'puterinner', meaning I would continually put words in when I was editing a story. I guess I've evolved some (hopefully), because I'm almost done with this novel and I think I've probably taken close to ten percent of the book out. It doesn't bother me a bit though, because that shit has to go. It didn't help, didn't add anything, probably just confused the reader.
When I wrote this novel, I thought it was shitty. I thought it was disconjointed (probably because it took me nine months to write it), unmoving, and already been done. Editing though, wow, I'm glad there is an editing process. I'm reading it for the first time, and in parts I'm being blown away by the ferocity of it. I just watched a huge fail by Tucker Max (if you're reading this blog, surely you've heard of him and his movie). I don't say that to kick him while he's down, but had literally spent the last year and a half hyping up his movie- calling in the best ever, yadda yadda. I saw it- decent, but definitely not the greatest comedy of the last decade. Now he looks like a fool, a complete and utter fool. I don't want to do that, ever. I don't ever want to hype something to the point of doom (which is what he did, very few things can be as good as he said that movie was). But I am being impressed on a daily basis reading this novel. Will it sell (or is it sale, always fuck those words up) a million copies? I don't know. Does it have the potential to? Yeah, I think it does. I think that when people read this, they won't be able to put it down. Whether that's ten people, or ten million- I guess it doesn't matter, because the book is damn ok.
Yeah, I feel comfortable saying that.
When I first began writing, seriously- not just in a haphazard fashion- I was a 'puterinner', meaning I would continually put words in when I was editing a story. I guess I've evolved some (hopefully), because I'm almost done with this novel and I think I've probably taken close to ten percent of the book out. It doesn't bother me a bit though, because that shit has to go. It didn't help, didn't add anything, probably just confused the reader.
When I wrote this novel, I thought it was shitty. I thought it was disconjointed (probably because it took me nine months to write it), unmoving, and already been done. Editing though, wow, I'm glad there is an editing process. I'm reading it for the first time, and in parts I'm being blown away by the ferocity of it. I just watched a huge fail by Tucker Max (if you're reading this blog, surely you've heard of him and his movie). I don't say that to kick him while he's down, but had literally spent the last year and a half hyping up his movie- calling in the best ever, yadda yadda. I saw it- decent, but definitely not the greatest comedy of the last decade. Now he looks like a fool, a complete and utter fool. I don't want to do that, ever. I don't ever want to hype something to the point of doom (which is what he did, very few things can be as good as he said that movie was). But I am being impressed on a daily basis reading this novel. Will it sell (or is it sale, always fuck those words up) a million copies? I don't know. Does it have the potential to? Yeah, I think it does. I think that when people read this, they won't be able to put it down. Whether that's ten people, or ten million- I guess it doesn't matter, because the book is damn ok.
Yeah, I feel comfortable saying that.
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