In the vein of my previous post and new resolutions, I came across this short blog post today and shared it with a friend. Then agonized for a few minutes over whether I should post it here. See, future-me, who is now-me, is already trying to trip me up.

I love this idea though. Ideas that you do nothing with, be it in business or writing or anything else, are worth very little. I can think of story ideas all day long, but unless I put them to paper at some point, they are fairly worthless. No one will ever see them or if I share, they will be soon forgotten because I have no execution to back it up with. You don’t generally remember books because they had an alien fish race fighting the catmen of the cosmos; you remember it because of the emotional attachment you had with Goldy, the vivacious young cadet who was caught behind enemy lines. The execution is what makes the connection.

A similar concept I come across in writing advice deals with a frequent complaint from new writers: it’s all been done before. The story is about a boy falling in love with a girl and fighting off a dragon/wizard/vampire horde to save her. But the execution of that idea makes all the difference. Snow White gets saved by a prince’s love but it is not the same story as Sleeping Beauty. Give 10 people the same idea and they will all come up with 10 different stories. Some will be executed well, others not so much, but all will be unique and worth more as a completed story than the idea itself.

Some thoughts

September 13, 2013 — Leave a comment

I have struggled since the inception of this blog to figure out what the hell I am going to say on it. I felt (feel?) like I was hastily rushed into it with little planning or general forethought; this isn’t exactly a bad thing. It means I got it going when I otherwise would have procrastinated my ass off, which is a very good point, but it also means that I keep staring at it and feel intimidated not knowing what to write. Though I slowly been realizing a few things.

I always worry if it’s good enough, if it’s important enough. The internet is full of people sharing their point of view, the best way I have seen it laid out is here through the theory of “Why wasn’t I consulted?” I don’t feel the need to inflict my opinion on the masses, indeed I often feel like I should avoid it wholeheartedly. What I think and feel has no bearing on the rest of the universe, nor does what others think and feel have direct influence over me. I still read blogs though, why? For the voice. For the way they share their opinions and thoughts. They are funny, insightful, show me a different perspective, every blog I read has something that draws me to it, and not just their unwarranted ramblings on the pros and cons of cat pictures.

Secondly, I don’t need to make this something deep. This blog is for me, to help me write and to find my voice. I am not trying to sell something, I don’t need to make it polished and pretty, slick and shiny. I keep a journal, but keeping a private journal does not amount to the same thing as keeping a public one. There I write about my day, my mood, I don’t think, I rarely punctuate properly. It is just stream of consciousness writing. Here, I would rather explore specific subjects, even if it’s a few lines and a link as Tobias Buckell does it. Or a mix of rants, ramblings and random crap as John Scalzi does with Whatever. What matters is that I am putting some thought into the posts, that I am going back and editing to help enhance my writing. People reading it helps, I get feedback that way; but if they don’t read it, so what? I don’t aspire to some great legacy or amazing number of views a day.

The major problem for me concerning a less thought out blog is that, because I have never aspired to converse with others often, I quietly file away my thoughts and move on with subjects. I have many opinions about things, but rarely share those even in my every day life. So while I have identified what seems to be my core problems on keeping up with blogging, I don’t know how to fix them very well. I need to talk about what I am thinking about, but always feel like I should talk about something “important” or at least worth reading. In short, I am a basket case with social hangups, wheee.

I still work to overcome them though. So for the foreseeable future, I am going to make a concerted effort to post more frequently while trying to turn my brain off. See something interesting, talk about it. Again, I say to myself in hopes I will hammer it into my head, this blog isn’t about the views – it’s about getting myself to write. If you want to read along to laugh at me or encourage me or just because sometimes I will go off on interesting tangents about aliens in my soup, feel free. I am only one blog on the internet, I would be just as happy blending in as I would be standing out.

And while I say all this now, and fully intend to follow through at the moment, future-me does not always agree with now-me and I will probably start the vicious cycle of not knowing to write all over again. But in the meantime, go me!

 

Also, I will probably change the layout soon.

  1. The layout I am using will no longer be supported so would rather find a new layout now before it randomly breaks on me
  2. I think I am ditching/simplifying my tags and categories
  3. I like change and am feeling very autumn-y, maybe some nice red-orange tones to match the season

Little Lonely Blog

August 30, 2013 — Leave a comment

Dear blog,

I miss you, and want you to know I am thinking about you often. Its been busy around here, with summer and new dogs and newborn puppies. The kids go to school next week though, and with my new found time I will be redoubling my efforts to write again. I have been reading this summer though. Got a couple books done and found some new authors to check out. Ideas have also been percolating in my head for various writing projects, I am just trying to find the energy to tackle them.

I hope you are doing well and can forgive my absence.

Sincerely,

The person who doesn’t post enough

2nd Quarter Results

July 22, 2013 — 1 Comment

First, the easy part: 2nd quarter results for this year.

What did the second 3 months of my serious attempt at writing bring me? Less than I had hoped.

I have still written some every month, even if just journals. February is still my worst month this year. My average this quarter? 8308 words a month; not bad in the long run, but 3k less a month than first quarter. I did write some short stories in this quarter, and even put one on a critique site for some feedback. But I also went long weeks not writing at all.

Why am I telling you all this? Because I can!

Err I mean, because accountability! And being conscious of my own progress!

Because its my blog and I can write what I want on it!

 

In other news, instead of writing I have finished a quilt, got 2 new dogs, did tons of gardening and yardwork, and generally did not writing things. I’ve been a bit busy. So rant rant rant, I need to write more, read more, be more what I want to be. But I am working on it! I still think about it every day, even if I don’t write. It may be a slow process getting where I am going, but at least I am trying.

That sounds so pathetic, and trying is not the same as doing, but you know, positive thinking and such.

Three Word Wednesday

May 29, 2013 — 2 Comments

Todays story prompt brought to you by Three Word Wednesday.

((Liability, badge, darken))

She showed her badge to the woman at the door and was let through in silence. The hallway was long and the light was low, layers of newspapers were plastered on the windows to keep the bright city out and red drapes darkened the lights inside. In the winter chill she could smell the dampness seeping in, seeking a release from the oncoming freeze outside. Through the chatter of the patrons, she could hear the jazz wafting towards her from the club.

Small venues like this were one of the few perks of being in the task force. Staff and patrons alike were mellow around here, but it was still exclusive; you could be on the waiting list for years. Unless you were in the task force of course, enforcer of the cities ludicrous music laws. Larger venues were more closely run than the alleyway clubs though, her presence there was seen as a liability to the corporations. The bigger the venue, the more likely it was ran by the corporation; larger pockets, larger fines when things went wrong. No one wanted to see the task force lurking around a concert or popular city club, it only meant trouble.

Lindsay was on the task force, but she didn’t agree with their methods. Fining even the unknown artists for sampling works or collaborating with the greats of the past. This was supposed to be a free society, all copy-writes where abolished decades ago. But the government still discouraged the use of the time machines for personal gain, even as they exploited the past, mining it for technology and wealth. This time someone had gone too far though, someone had brought back more than a few bars of music, they brought back Thelonious Monk himself.

Stepping into the club proper she was drawn to the bar, glowing blue against the matte black walls of the room. “Whisky,” she told the barkeep. A habit acquired from her fathers obsession with the past, few places served real alcohol anymore, opting for the synthetic blends of liquid that had grown popular as of late, but she appreciated the way whiskey burned the back of her throat. As she waited for her drink she looked around the club, everyone absorbed in their own drinks and the music. It was hard not to appreciate the old Earth feel in the room, she guessed that’s why they sent her.

No sign of Mr. Monk though, she didn’t really expect there to be this early in the afternoon. She was supposed to meet Adrian, the clubs owner in 10 minutes. She had a bad habit of being early, and Adrian had a bad habit of avoiding the task force. “Where’s the boss?” Lindsay asked the barkeep when he brought her whiskey, he just shrugged and went on to making some martinis for the couple at the end of the counter.

It wasn’t supposed to be possible to pull people forward in time, but she knew better. Before her fathers split with the science division, he had been having a love affair with a women in the early 1920′s that he met on his first jump. In time that woman had a child, but he couldn’t risk disrupting the time line. He found a way to bring the baby through the transporter and was disbarred from the Academy for it. Lindsay never knew her mother, enforcers made sure of that, but her father kept her well hidden. They never knew of the baby girl with the split time signature.

If you can write each day, do it, and meet a quota. Minimum 350 words a day. A baboon can do 350 words a day. Don’t be shown up by a baboon.

James Scott Bell

So I have been busy lately. Got myself a nice exercise program which means I have way too much energy but am constantly sore so don’t want to do anything.

I keep pulling up my blog, expecting to see something new here, then realizing that there will be nothing new if I don’t write it myself. Damn linear time.

Just not sure what to write. Have gone back to reading more about writing than actually writing. Gives me something to do at the gym. But it also means that I am still constantly thinking about writing. Just don’t know what to write still, ever, always. But working on it! Still thinking about it, trying to get around my own mental blocks. Just, not there yet.

Need to get back to posting though, even if its book reviews or quotes or random rants on the downfalls of summer right after I plant my herbs for the year. Or something. Stuff. Writing. Wooo.

Dishes never get stacked. If they did, the world would come to an end. The gravitational pull of all those dishes in the sink would simply cause the fabric of space time to collapse on itself. There must be space between everything, air pockets to keep so much mass from being collected at one point. Water must be a mysterious anti-grav force, once you add water you can get all the dishes you want in the sink without worry. Or maybe soap lubricates the dishes enough to help resist their force on each other. And in the end, when they are put away, why does the cabinet not contain a black hole?

Though this be madness, yet there is method in ’t.

Hamlet (Act 2, Scene 2)

So, with nothing else percolating in my head I decided to try a flash fiction challenge. I am about a third of the way done, though I am not sure I will get it finished by the deadline.

I am happy with how it is turning out word wise, but not a story that I am loving. Good story, just not interesting to me I guess. I have found that as I go, I do okay, get a sentence or two, then freeze again. It’s like all the decisions just stop me, there is too much for me to deal with. I ended up with a horrible headache every time I tried to work on it, but I was getting work done.

I do highly believe that the brain is just like muscles in that you need to work it to make it better. I think this is a decent example of that. With time and practice I hope I will be able to write better, faster, and with less headacheyness. But God that practice is going to hurt.

When (if) I finish the story, whether I manage to finish by the deadline or not, I am adding it here. Hopefully I will be able to find more challenges to help me practice and get more finished pieces sitting around reminding me I can actually do it.