Before Coffee: It’s On Random

July 3, 2016 § Leave a comment

Turns out, we picked a good week for vacation; monsoon season in Cincinnati began today. The 10-day speaks only of rain, and there’s already a Flash Flood Watch in effect.

The net sum impact on me is that my brain is a bit on random right now. Buckle your restraints tight; this blog post may sling through a few hairpin turns.

I guess the biggest thing weighing on me is the fact that I’ve had a week off and plenty of chances to get some writing done, and I’ve done shit. Not one new word on the SF novel, and while I did break out that old novel I talked about dusting off, one look made me realize it’s garbage. 

Which led to me whining to Tracy yesterday about not knowing why I bother with this writing shit. I clearly don’t have the drive it takes, my work thus far looks like the result of drunken apes pounding on keyboards, I could be spending my writing time reading books by writers much more talented and driven than I am, and everything is just so fucking pointless.

To which Tracy replied with some very sensible things that I was too stubborn to want to hear, but which were nonetheless true and smart and proof of why I’m simultaneously lucky to have her and quite undeserving of her.

So it’s back to the SF novel. I need to take an orbital view of it and come up with a new outline. (Ha, see what I did there, using a space metaphor about writing a space opera? Told you I was a shit writer.) The entire structure of the book has changed so much since I began, and I never did take the time to make a detailed map of this strange new world. (Christ, I’m plagiarizing Star Trek now! What a hack!)

I’m not a pantser; I need an outline. So it’s time to break out the Magic Notebook my dear, departed friend Sherry once gave me. Whenever I have a story problem, I write it out in the Magic Notebook and the solution reveals itself. Here’s hoping I didn’t just jinx it.

That won’t be today, probably; were going to a party soon, and I don’t imagine I’ll be in any shape after it for writing. Which is an excuse, but screw it, I’m on vacation. 

I could have started on it last night, but I was maudlin and did what any frustrated wannabe hack would do: I drank beer, ate pizza, watched a movie, and played a video game. JUST LIKE HEMINGWAY.

It was a bit surreal, playing a game in which there is a lot of gunfire and explosions while both amateur and professional fireworks went off outside. I hope no combat veterans in my area suffer from PTSD. Hell, even I thought some of the fireworks sounded like gunfire, and one in particular sounded exactly like an incoming mortar shell (or at least the sound effect Hollywood always uses for mortar shells). I can’t imagine hearing that if I’d ever been in combat and not having a panic attack.

But hey, we’re celebrating our freedom, goddammit, so screw being politically correct for the sake of the guys who actually fought for it! ‘MURICA!

Oops, I got into opiniated waters again. Warned you, the brain’s on random today.


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