I Need A Distraction

This distraction needs to be a writing task. For some reason I feel I am so far off track with ideas and can’t get myself together. Perhaps it’s time to start a new screenplay or script for a comic to get my mind off my current project.

So this will get my gears going and help me focus on something that’s productive since I can’t get this novel to gel the way I need to.  Screenplays I can get done and focus on.  I feel like a mess right now.

Something’s stressing me out, and I need it to go away ASAP. This means looking at what’s going on.  Time to start a day journal and see where my time goes. It may be that I’ve gamed too much and now I’m bored that I’m not gaming.  Life is more than games, despite the fun they are.  Games ain’t paying my bills, nor is it 100% fulfilling me.

If it were a job though. I wonder how good I’d be.  LOL

Happy creative endeavors.

Goals

I need to set some projects into stronger rotation in my days, and that also includes this blog. I took a seminar on Friday about projects, and effective communication, despite the fact that these posts can be spur of the moment, there is something to be said for a focused, thought-out post.

That said, it’s Sunday, I’m a bit moody, and tired. It leaves me little room for putting things together, and I’d rather be gaming.  Since I’m not gaming, all I can do is put some effort into posting

Little writing got done this weekend, and I am reminded that I am not happy that. If I am to change this aspect of my weekends, I need to change my attitude. Writing is a passion, but it is also an investment. I need to invest in myself on a daily basis, even if it’s twenty minutes a day, at the very least I know effort was placed towards something I love.

Keep in mind each writing task is a separate project. For example, the blog gets its twenty mins, then the novel gets twenty mins, and so forth. I gotta get myself together.

Happy creative endeavors.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving. There are many things to be thankful for, such as living, having a job, or even another chance to be creative again.

Been slacking off, as the semester revs up to finals, and the library’s going to be open longer. This means I’ll be busier, and somewhat stressed out. Those days pile up to a point where I personally *don’t* want to do much but not be stressed, or frustrated. It happens, then the finals is over, and I go rest.

One thing that helps me de-stress is writing–even though it can frustrate the heck outta me, and I know, like I always do, is go back to writing. That said it’s time to think and do more writing. I’ll talk less about it until I have completed material to talk about. Did have some random ideas I wrote down, and I feel I’ve got a lot of unformed ideas.

Today I did some cooking, spent some time with fam, and now after eating, I just want to be mellow. Somehow I needed up thinking of my blog, and knew what needed to be done.

Happy creative endeavors.

Revisions (Part 3 of 3)

This is the third pass. It feels much better for the story, and has a type of energy I found appealing to write.  I wanted to make sure the conflict was stronger, and engaging.

Happy creative endeavors.

“What’s that filthy bushwash you’re using on our great plaques?” Timothy asked. “It looks too cheap for Beauregard Clemmings.”

“You the cleaning inspector now?”

“Wha– how-how dare you?”

“You’d think I was asking about your weight, and the extra donuts you like to eat all the time. You leave the crumbs all over the place.”

“You rude, ignorant servant of a bitch.”

”No need for calling my mother names.”

“Forget your wrinkled old mum.”

“Forget your prune-faced wife. She looks like the bottom of an old frying pan, she does.”

“Of all the…I don’t know what kind of slipshod games the mayor has running from that hovel of an office, but the people of Nutbush pay too much money for a janitor to think he can check me.”

Felix sighed, put on his headphones and MP3 player, turned away from Timothy, and renewed his cleaning.

“That distraction isn’t allowed while you’re on duty, sir,” Timothy huffed.  “You know that, as it was part of the charter rules and regulations.”

Felix didn’t turn back to Timothy, but he did turn up the volume on his MP3 player. Timothy turned away, and marched down the park to the city entrance. “The nerve of that fool,” he muttered.

Revisions (Part 2 of 3)

This is my second pass at revising the dialog for the scene/story. I wanted something a bit more abrasive, and less agreeable between the two characters (Timothy and Felix).

I didn’t format it properly, as I knew if I liked it, I would add it to Word (from my Notes app) and adjust it.

It’s essentially the exchange between Timothy and Felix, so I know its two characters.

Timothy watched Felix apply the solution to the glyphs.  It looked shinier, and he appreciated that glow.  Timothy stood back after the last coat and admired the glow.

T: Nice job, Felix.

F: Thank you, Mr. Guthrie. I’ve already cleaned the benches, good sir.  Don’t want you messing up those fancy clothes of yours.

Nonsense. I’m more curious as to your new solution.

F: Pay it no mind. Just boring new regulations.

T: “They’re facts, Felix,” He said, “and facts are never boring.”

F: Then the amount of bird dropping per square inch on a plaque is right up your alley…sir?

T: No. That is not up my alley. I insist you tell me what are you using clean our glyphs in our town.

F:  Why that’s classified, sir.

T: Classified? With taxpayers money? Really? Does this sparkle orange concoction have a proven track record with maintaining a secure protection from rogue magic?” It could do more far more harm than good.

*he waited for a response. None came.

T: You know if the wards don’t work, we’ll be in a world of pain.

F: Your bench, sir.  It’s gonna get taken.

T: Rest assured, I’m contacting the mayor.

F: Be my guest, sir.

Revisions (Part 1 of 3)

Hello all,

A fellow poster asked about my revisions for my novel, and I decided to post a small section of it. I’ll start with the original draft of this scene, then the subsequent revisions (I made two additional ones).

Please keep in mind that the post is  genre fiction  and contains elements of urban fantasy and bizarro. Also the description is OK to me, what I worked on was the exchange at the end, but for the sake of posting, I needed to give people context.

As always, happy creative endeavors.

Nutbush was a sleepy town with little to do, but maintain its peace.  The homes were simple, clean, and neatly manicured. The people were decent, pleasant enough, and always made sure their public glyphs and wards were clean. They put them on statues, posts, sidewalks, and walls.

Nutbush boasted cobblestone streets, gaslight lampposts, and steam-powered cars. The residents adored their throwback aesthetics, and that flow of the city presented a sort of background noise people either tuned out, or appreciated as part of the charm.  They were also proud of their wards and glyphs carved deep into lovely plaques throughout the town. It kept the rogue magic away and seemingly too many tourists who enjoyed the aesthetics of the town.

Within the park, a few joggers ran the path of the square, as others passed by in cars, tooting their horn from time to time, only to earn stares from everyone for being so damn noisy.  They hailed each other with smiles as thy passed each other.

Timothy Guthrie strolled through the square as he typically did, well-dressed and with the local paper under his arm.  He spotted Felix wiping down the square’s wards with a damp cloth from a bucket of water and orange-glittery substance.  As Felix wiped the park’s glyphs and the orange glitter dissolved into the plaques. He slathered a healthy portion onto the plague under the statue of Beauregard Clemmings, town founder.

“How are you doing today?” Timothy asked.

“The usual,” Felix responded. “Cleaning our good wards”

“Have they been tested recently? They look clean and all, but how potent are they?”

“You know the mayor. Less tests means less red tape, and budgetary expenses.”

Timothy laughed. “That fool’s gonna kill us one day with his cheapness.”

 

 

Writing Confession: Let it All Hang Out

I confess, sometimes I don’t feel I’m doing the best as a writer of fiction. I’m constantly being reminded that I have a gift for humor. Sometimes I’ve noticed I’ve stripped out the humor in my work. I’d like to keep the humor. It’s my hope that someone will read this post and draw some inspiration from it. If not it was a good exercise for me to think about how I write and how to improve myself.

I noticed, on many occasions, when I write fiction, it’s far too uptight. The uptightness is reflection of my state of mind at the time. I get uptight, worried, and try to make the material the best thing you can read. It makes the material overworked and thus stripped of enjoyment of writing, and reading. I firmly believe that if a story is excruciating to write, then it’s excruciating to read.

There are a couple of paradoxes that I’ve noticed in my writing techniques that I want to address and adjust. First, I labor too hard on some of the material. I have no issue with rewriting any of my prose, screenplays or poetry. However, rewriting is not the issue. The issue is when I write, and I have this anxiety over making sure every word is perfect, nuanced, intelligent, and rethought. I do this all the time. And sometimes what’s funny in the material gets sanitized and dry. Let me restate that this is not editing. Editing is revising for clarity. Fussing over material is me thinking it’s not good enough.

Second, I have, in the past, written for friends, and I didn’t put too much thought behind the process. I simply wrote out what came to mind. I didn’t see myself as funny. I just saw myself is capable of writing a story with a beginning middle and end. I was being playful, carefree, goofy, and anxiety didn’t have a time to grow. Friends who read the material, told me the enjoyed reading what I wrote. It made them laugh, and in turn it made me feel good. That was me being me. Humor must be zen-like. If I don’t attach my anxiety, hopes and aspirations to the material I get positive results.

Maybe I need to create with the focus that I’m writing for friends. That may allow me to think as the carefree, goofy guy who happens to write, and not as the guy who has too many chapter one starts for his novel.

This doesn’t mean all my writing has to be funny. I’d like to think that if I have a strength in writing, I need to explore that talent. There are somethings I need to contemplate and improve.

As always, happy creative endeavors.