“... write from the point of view of the animal with whom you identify most.”
Try to guess who this is. /sarcasm
---
I love going to the bathroom in my neighbor’s yard. There’s something about wandering into someone else’s grass and dropping a deuce that appeals to me, though I’m not exactly sure what that is. I just like it. It’s the perfect way to start the morning.
Life is, for me, somewhat boring, and because of that I have to find my pleasures where I can. Entertainment is often watching a movie on the television with one of my housemates in a language I cannot understand, harassing people as they walk by my house or napping.
Napping. Oh, God do I love napping. I’ve made sleeping in odd places practically a competitive sport. I can sleep on linoleum, grass, pavement, hard carpeted stairs, anything. I can sleep inside a claustrophobic plastic prison with bars across the door, on my soft-foam bed (just like the ones they advertise on TV), on those stairs for hours upon hours. My favorite place to sleep, though, is in a carpeted corner, twisted up like a corpse, my legs thrown up on the wall like an afterthought. It looks like someone’s murdered me and tossed my body somewhere convenient. It never fails to freak the housemates out, especially the girly one who makes me watch those movies with her every day.
Another thing I do to pass the time is eating. Normally my food is bland and even the water I drink liberally does little to help me choke it down. Sometimes, though, people buy me cookies or give me chips. I love snack food. Once in a blue moon I’m caught by the urge to thieve food, just for the fun of it. I’ve stolen meat, cheese, cookies and even a whole salami sandwich once. American cheese tastes funny.
More than stealing, though, I love manipulating people into giving me what they’re eating. It’s so much more fun to wander around the house, following people as they make their lunches or dinners or snacks and harassing them until they cave. One of my most successful techniques is to sit at the top of the steps and stare at them until they cannot ignore me any longer. That usually yields some decent results.
Sometimes, though, I end up with food I don’t like. Those are the times I really wish I hadn’t begged, but usually I just throw the nasty stuff on the floor and someone takes care of it for me. It makes me feel like a celebrity. Some of the foods I’ve manipulated people into giving me that I don’t like are cucumbers, raw mushrooms, zucchini and dill pickles. If it’s green, cold and crisp I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like it at this point.
Just give me your Sun Chips instead.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Room to Write - "The 'D' Word"
Today write about discipline... Or, you can follow one of your characters through the process of dealing with an aspect of discipline.
I think perhaps I did this one a little closer to spec.
---
Today was the day that Natalie finally admitted to herself that she lacked discipline. It was that morning, while brewing coffee to take to work with her, that she could no longer ignore it or blow it off.
It was staring her right in the face. Her countertop was so cluttered she couldn’t get to the paper towels she needed to clean up the coffee overflow (she’d used two filters again, damnit) before it cascaded onto the floor.
Now she was going to be late. This was the second time this week, and she had an evaluation coming up.
As she scrambled to clear the way to the towels, she banged her knee on the bread drawer she often forgot to close. She howled and dropped to the floor, bumping her head against the overflowing garbage can. Bits of last night’s taco salad, which she never could finish, jumped out of the open bin and came to rest atop her head.
She did the first thing that came to her. Natalie let out a string of expletives. Then she started to cry.
This was it. No more. The days of being a slow were over. She’d organize everything, toss out what wasn’t needed, pare her belongings down to where she knew where everything was. She’d even make a cleaning schedule, and she’d stick to it.
She’d start it tomorrow, for sure.
I think perhaps I did this one a little closer to spec.
---
Today was the day that Natalie finally admitted to herself that she lacked discipline. It was that morning, while brewing coffee to take to work with her, that she could no longer ignore it or blow it off.
It was staring her right in the face. Her countertop was so cluttered she couldn’t get to the paper towels she needed to clean up the coffee overflow (she’d used two filters again, damnit) before it cascaded onto the floor.
Now she was going to be late. This was the second time this week, and she had an evaluation coming up.
As she scrambled to clear the way to the towels, she banged her knee on the bread drawer she often forgot to close. She howled and dropped to the floor, bumping her head against the overflowing garbage can. Bits of last night’s taco salad, which she never could finish, jumped out of the open bin and came to rest atop her head.
She did the first thing that came to her. Natalie let out a string of expletives. Then she started to cry.
This was it. No more. The days of being a slow were over. She’d organize everything, toss out what wasn’t needed, pare her belongings down to where she knew where everything was. She’d even make a cleaning schedule, and she’d stick to it.
She’d start it tomorrow, for sure.
Room to Write - "Eat It"
Today write only through your sense of taste. Speculate on and imagine the taste of whatever surrounds you. Without necessarily writing about food, experience the world as flavors.
I’m not sure I went about this exactly as instructed.
----
My flavor is bitter, spicy and smoky, permeated completely by the tea that flows through me. When I’m angry I become as bitter as an early spring crabapple, as hard and inedible as a cold, rough stone laying in someone’s driveway.
Full of happiness, I am as smooth, creamy and sweet as the finest chocolate ganache. I flow over the lips and tongue with little to no resistance, forming a brilliant symbiotic pleasure.
Those times are few and far between, however. For the most part I am lukewarm and full of quiet smoke, a fine Formosa oolong in a chipped cup. You can pour me full of sugar, but that only serves to mask my true nature.
I’m not sure I went about this exactly as instructed.
----
My flavor is bitter, spicy and smoky, permeated completely by the tea that flows through me. When I’m angry I become as bitter as an early spring crabapple, as hard and inedible as a cold, rough stone laying in someone’s driveway.
Full of happiness, I am as smooth, creamy and sweet as the finest chocolate ganache. I flow over the lips and tongue with little to no resistance, forming a brilliant symbiotic pleasure.
Those times are few and far between, however. For the most part I am lukewarm and full of quiet smoke, a fine Formosa oolong in a chipped cup. You can pour me full of sugar, but that only serves to mask my true nature.
Writing Exercises
For quite some time I’ve been conjuring up my own writing exercise ideas, things that I call my “1000+ exercises” simply because I force myself to follow the idea to the one thousand word mark and beyond. Many of these have become short stories, some better than others, and it’s for this reason that I’ve generally kept the ideas to myself.
However, I’ve been reading some writers’ books lately (most notably Room to Write) and in them there are many suggestions for story fragments, character studies, essays and simple ideas that get the creative juices flowing but do not necessarily end up with the creation of a salable story.
From here on out, I think I will be typing these up and posting them on this blog. I think I would really enjoy throwing things out for people to read and even share their own ideas, so long as there is anyone still reading this blog. It lays dormant for long periods of time, and for that I apologize.
Today I’ve done two exercises, short ones, and I hope to have them up shortly.
However, I’ve been reading some writers’ books lately (most notably Room to Write) and in them there are many suggestions for story fragments, character studies, essays and simple ideas that get the creative juices flowing but do not necessarily end up with the creation of a salable story.
From here on out, I think I will be typing these up and posting them on this blog. I think I would really enjoy throwing things out for people to read and even share their own ideas, so long as there is anyone still reading this blog. It lays dormant for long periods of time, and for that I apologize.
Today I’ve done two exercises, short ones, and I hope to have them up shortly.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Where Have I Been All This Time?
No, I'm not dead. I've just slacked off somewhat. A terrible shame on me.
Over the last couple weeks I've found myself caught up in house cleaning, video game playing, exercising and reading the Murakami novels I hadn't gotten around to yet. I'm still about 15 books shy of my goal in the 50 Book Challenge, and I'd like to have most of that done by November before embarking on my second NaNoWriMo project.
I have written a few more small chapters for Rain and a few 1000+ Words exercises, just to flex the writing muscles once in a while. I suppose if I honestly don't want them to atrophy I'll have to use them more. I'm a bit ashamed of myself at the moment. Something that makes me so completely happy and fulfilled should be a bit higher up on my list of priorities. At least now, though, I have an orderly area in which to work, rather than that sty of a bedroom I used to spend all my time in. It took several days to get it to where I wanted it, and now that it's clean and organized I'm amazed at the amount of space I have to work with.
I've come to the realization that without structure and organization I am nothing. I can't get anything accomplished if I allow myself total freedom. Without putting things in writing I can't remember my goals. So from now on I'll have to go back to making daily To-Do lists, including both my household chores and my writing ideas. I'd ideally like to write a chapter of Rain a day before the enthusiasm for the project wears off, but barring that I'd at least like to write one 1000+ Words exercise daily or every other day. The exercises I'd really like to share, maybe even post here, but since a few of them grew into full-fledged short stories (and some are even still out for submission) I don't know if I can do that or not.
For today, though, I think before I wind down mid-afternoon in preparation for sleep I'll get to reviewing and adding to Rain. It's a neat little story that I'd like to finish not only for myself but also for Eric, who has been waiting patiently for the next several chapters.
Over the last couple weeks I've found myself caught up in house cleaning, video game playing, exercising and reading the Murakami novels I hadn't gotten around to yet. I'm still about 15 books shy of my goal in the 50 Book Challenge, and I'd like to have most of that done by November before embarking on my second NaNoWriMo project.
I have written a few more small chapters for Rain and a few 1000+ Words exercises, just to flex the writing muscles once in a while. I suppose if I honestly don't want them to atrophy I'll have to use them more. I'm a bit ashamed of myself at the moment. Something that makes me so completely happy and fulfilled should be a bit higher up on my list of priorities. At least now, though, I have an orderly area in which to work, rather than that sty of a bedroom I used to spend all my time in. It took several days to get it to where I wanted it, and now that it's clean and organized I'm amazed at the amount of space I have to work with.
I've come to the realization that without structure and organization I am nothing. I can't get anything accomplished if I allow myself total freedom. Without putting things in writing I can't remember my goals. So from now on I'll have to go back to making daily To-Do lists, including both my household chores and my writing ideas. I'd ideally like to write a chapter of Rain a day before the enthusiasm for the project wears off, but barring that I'd at least like to write one 1000+ Words exercise daily or every other day. The exercises I'd really like to share, maybe even post here, but since a few of them grew into full-fledged short stories (and some are even still out for submission) I don't know if I can do that or not.
For today, though, I think before I wind down mid-afternoon in preparation for sleep I'll get to reviewing and adding to Rain. It's a neat little story that I'd like to finish not only for myself but also for Eric, who has been waiting patiently for the next several chapters.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
A Few New Rejections
“A Poor Self-Image” was recently rejected from Fail Better (www.failbetter.com) and “Cryptic Coloration” was sent back from Ideomancer (www.ideomancer.com).
Oh, well.
“A Poor Self-Image” may end up being too heavy-handed to sell, considering the message it’s pushing. I didn’t really want to tell the story like that, with a moral nicely baked in the center, but it was the only way I could write it that included everything I wanted. A rejected reflection only comes about from one of a few things, most of which are going to sound cheesy when put down in writing.
“Cryptic Coloration,” though, I’m very fond of. I can go back and read that any number of times. It was my first attempt at Magical Realism, and though there’s not much in the way of an exciting plot (and zero in the way of real conflict), I felt a sense of accomplishment when I finished it. It was a delight to write. Only now, during the submissions process, I’ve come to realize that this story really doesn’t meet any genre criteria. I might have to go the way of literary magazines to find a home for this one. It’s not horror at all, nor science fiction, and it could only be categorized as fantasy in the loosest of senses. Ideomancer requires a genre to pigeonhole the story in, and gives you a list to choose from, so I picked “slipstream.” I’m not even sure that was accurate, to be honest.
So now I have four or five stories I need to shop out again, and two I’m waiting on hearing back about still.
Back to the Post Office I go.
Oh, well.
“A Poor Self-Image” may end up being too heavy-handed to sell, considering the message it’s pushing. I didn’t really want to tell the story like that, with a moral nicely baked in the center, but it was the only way I could write it that included everything I wanted. A rejected reflection only comes about from one of a few things, most of which are going to sound cheesy when put down in writing.
“Cryptic Coloration,” though, I’m very fond of. I can go back and read that any number of times. It was my first attempt at Magical Realism, and though there’s not much in the way of an exciting plot (and zero in the way of real conflict), I felt a sense of accomplishment when I finished it. It was a delight to write. Only now, during the submissions process, I’ve come to realize that this story really doesn’t meet any genre criteria. I might have to go the way of literary magazines to find a home for this one. It’s not horror at all, nor science fiction, and it could only be categorized as fantasy in the loosest of senses. Ideomancer requires a genre to pigeonhole the story in, and gives you a list to choose from, so I picked “slipstream.” I’m not even sure that was accurate, to be honest.
So now I have four or five stories I need to shop out again, and two I’m waiting on hearing back about still.
Back to the Post Office I go.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
A Brief Update
I must not have been paying close attention to the dates recently, because it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted anything here. “The Orchard” came out in the June issue of The Harrow the other day, and I have to say I’m really excited about it. Seeing my work in print, whether actual print or on a website, paid or unpaid, encourages me to do more. Sometimes, like recently, I find it easy to get caught up in other things and let my writing fall by the wayside. Seeing my own work as if it were that of someone else legitimizes things for me, convinces me to keep going, to type these stories out instead of playing them over and over inside my head for an audience of one.
On a related note, I’ve resumed work on Rain. I’m finishing Chapter Thirteen today. I’m not sure where I’m going with the story but I’m having quite a bit of fun typing it out. I’m sure I’d have a more concrete tale if I were to outline or plan somehow, but aside from the notes file I’ve been keeping (which is really just a glossary of things I’ve already written in previous chapters) I haven’t felt inclined. It’s coming along nicely, though, and it’s keeping me focused.
On the other hand, I’m also still making that run at the 50 Book Challenge this year. I finished #27, Max Barry’s marketing-themed satire Syrup, on May 31st. Right now I’m reading Koji Suzuki’s Spiral, the new Metal Gear Solid novelization (obligatory Eric comment goes here) and a book of food journalism called How to Pick a Peach. I’m staring to become interested in food-themed nonfiction again. I’ve noticed that my interests tend to come and go in cycles.
On a related note, I’ve resumed work on Rain. I’m finishing Chapter Thirteen today. I’m not sure where I’m going with the story but I’m having quite a bit of fun typing it out. I’m sure I’d have a more concrete tale if I were to outline or plan somehow, but aside from the notes file I’ve been keeping (which is really just a glossary of things I’ve already written in previous chapters) I haven’t felt inclined. It’s coming along nicely, though, and it’s keeping me focused.
On the other hand, I’m also still making that run at the 50 Book Challenge this year. I finished #27, Max Barry’s marketing-themed satire Syrup, on May 31st. Right now I’m reading Koji Suzuki’s Spiral, the new Metal Gear Solid novelization (obligatory Eric comment goes here) and a book of food journalism called How to Pick a Peach. I’m staring to become interested in food-themed nonfiction again. I’ve noticed that my interests tend to come and go in cycles.
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