I fascinate me. Should you know me well, this should come as no great surprise.
What I mean by that is for as well as I know myself, I still surprise myself, in ways both good and bad. Take my reaction to the winter season, for example. I know that I've struggled through every winter, specifically, in the ways that relate to 'not being a fragile emotional deadweight.' I go into every winter saying, 'eh, fuck it, I'm fine,' and then, by about January, I'm staring out the window, wanting to break out into a very sad Wilson-Phillips-esque song that is heavily imbued with longing. Well, except, that would require motivation.
And, see, this is the point at which I should be saying, 'AHA! I'll go write a book about it! YES!' Instead ... eh. I don't feel like it.
What sucks is that I'm deep into some good pages on the Endless Wars sequel, and I've been getting some good feedback from my editor on them, and now he's quietly knocking on my phone door saying, 'Uh, dude? About that book? I want to see what happens next.' THAT is exactly what every good novelist wants to hear, and yet ... eh, I don't feel like it.
I've also been trying different things in terms of my process, too, to try to jump-start the thing. Everything from changing up the time of day to refining my environment, and none of it is sticking.
Of course, I always like a jackass at these moments. I'm an adult. I should be able to just make myself sit for an hour and bang out a page or two. That's what should happen, and yet ... eh, I don't feel like it.
And, it's temporary, of course. I'm not really sweating it, but I kind of wish I was.
In the meantime, I'm reading like a madman. I've been devouring the Wheel of Time series, something I'd long avoided. I was finally convinced by a friend in the meatspace to just try it, and I'm loving it. It's like the anti-A Song of Ice & Fire series. Don't get me wrong, I love ASoI&F, but WoT is a refreshing low fantasy opposite. They have similar settings, but where everyone in ASoI&F is fucking and dying right and left, the WoT characters are ... well ... not. Additionally, where there's little else out there akin to ASoI&F, WoT iterates on every great sci-fi/fantasy trope, but does so rather skillfully.
I'm also hyped for the release of Dead Space 3 next week. The fiction of that universe is fantastic, and a great commentary on the ways that science, religion, corporate interests, and government all interact. If you've not played the Dead Space games, grab the first one and let me know what you think. There's also animated films, comics, novels, spin-off games, and all kinds of stuff that feeds into the fiction. It's a great universe that offers some pretty sharp critiques of how we, as a people, have evolved, and might continue to evolve.
For now, though, I'm hoping to narrow my focus a bit, reign my passions in, and make myself more productive in the writing space. I love doing it, but hate doing it part-time.
I also want to record another album ... and make my own text adventure ... and get back to more model building ... and spend more time sharpening my C# skills ... and sharpen my Windows Server skills ... and finally finish Buffy ... and have more time for playing sports with my son ... and back into watching basketball more ... and baseball, too, for that matter ... oh, and I need to play through all the Neverwinter Nights games and mods ... I also never finished Final Fantasy XIII-2 ... and I don't spend enough time with Guild Wars 2 ... I wouldn't mind revisiting Star Trek Online ... and I would really like to play through more of the stories in Star Wars: The Old Republic.
Like I said ... narrowing my focus.
Love,
On sale now!
Showing posts with label Endless Wars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Endless Wars. Show all posts
20130130
20121213
The Clean Room
Whenever I get ready for another big push on a book, I go back and re-read/edit the preceding chapter or two. It helps put me in the right mindset, and gives me some great momentum for that day's push.
In today's case, I actually went back to the 'zero' chapter of this piece, and started pushing all the way through. I'd put this book down for a bit while I tended to some time-sensitive professional commitments, but I also needed to think through a complete overhaul of a character's thread through the first few chapters. I wasn't really sure what to do with him at the outset of writing this novel, so I just kinda had him doing nothing, which I thought maybe would be an interesting change for him from the last Endless Wars novel.
Yeah, not so much.
However, I did finally realize what his role in this novel was.
So, in going back through the beginning, I had a chance to slip back into his head, and in that moment, realized that we were very much on the same page, to an eerie extent. So, I plunged in, cut his sections open, did some major surgery, and just rode that wave.
What was great about today's lunch time session was that I really got to remember why I love writing. In pushing through this character's arc, I was just letting the story guide me, I was just letting the words fall out of me, and before long, looking over some of what I'd just written, I realized that I was really expressing some frustrations and disappointments I had, and in doing so, realized that much of this book is a reexamination of where I am in life.
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate my life, I don't regret anything. I'm where I need to be right now, but it's great when working on art really gets you thinking about what you were put on this planet to do, and reveals some potential futures.
The Clean Room
I am constantly distracted. My attention is constantly in demand. I make myself available nearly all the time.
It's funny, because, at heart, I am an intensely isolated person, and my lifestyle very much matched that. If you wanted to hang out, you needed to come to me. If you wanted to talk, you needed to call me.
Now, though, little of that has changed, except I'm a father, husband, sysadmin, friend, counselor, mentor, and many other things, all of which constantly lay siege to my time, and I can really see it in my writing.
Writing fiction while distracted is a fucking terrible thing to do. In editing some of my stuff today, I could see that I'd started and stopped and started and stopped many times in a small section, because I'd have thoughts repeating themselves. I'm glad I'm one of only three people to ever see that edit, because it's embarrassing, but it also highlights a change I need to make in my life.
One, I need to put a process back into place, and two, part of that process needs to involve some 'me' time, something for which I used to fight ferociously, and with the advent of being a family man and professional, I let slowly starve, wither, and die. That needs to change.
I need a mental clean room. I need to be able to go to a place, at least in my head, that tunes everything else out. I used to be good at that, but I'm just so fucking distracted all the time.
I'd still like to have a mobile solution to this, too. I'm constantly on the move, I travel quite a bit, and nearly every day is a crushing load of stuff. There's some paring down that can be done there, but not a lot, if I want to keep losing weight, maintain a happy marriage, connect with my child, and show some level of proficiency at my job.
Writing every day needs to be in there.
I've even given thought to writing first thing in the morning. I've heard Toni Morrison talk about doing this, and she's had success, so maybe there's something there for me. I dunno, though. Even being two years sober now, I'm still not a morning person.
We'll see. Thoughts from other writers or artists are welcome.
Other Projects
I put everything else on hold. I need to write this book, and I need to write it now. I've got some musical and game-related stuff in the pipeline that I'm really excited to work on, but this Endless Wars novel is very much front and center. I've got some downtime planned this winter, and I'd love to crank on this thing hard.
Yup. Just checking in.
Blaine
In today's case, I actually went back to the 'zero' chapter of this piece, and started pushing all the way through. I'd put this book down for a bit while I tended to some time-sensitive professional commitments, but I also needed to think through a complete overhaul of a character's thread through the first few chapters. I wasn't really sure what to do with him at the outset of writing this novel, so I just kinda had him doing nothing, which I thought maybe would be an interesting change for him from the last Endless Wars novel.
Yeah, not so much.
However, I did finally realize what his role in this novel was.
So, in going back through the beginning, I had a chance to slip back into his head, and in that moment, realized that we were very much on the same page, to an eerie extent. So, I plunged in, cut his sections open, did some major surgery, and just rode that wave.
What was great about today's lunch time session was that I really got to remember why I love writing. In pushing through this character's arc, I was just letting the story guide me, I was just letting the words fall out of me, and before long, looking over some of what I'd just written, I realized that I was really expressing some frustrations and disappointments I had, and in doing so, realized that much of this book is a reexamination of where I am in life.
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate my life, I don't regret anything. I'm where I need to be right now, but it's great when working on art really gets you thinking about what you were put on this planet to do, and reveals some potential futures.
The Clean Room
I am constantly distracted. My attention is constantly in demand. I make myself available nearly all the time.
It's funny, because, at heart, I am an intensely isolated person, and my lifestyle very much matched that. If you wanted to hang out, you needed to come to me. If you wanted to talk, you needed to call me.
Now, though, little of that has changed, except I'm a father, husband, sysadmin, friend, counselor, mentor, and many other things, all of which constantly lay siege to my time, and I can really see it in my writing.
Writing fiction while distracted is a fucking terrible thing to do. In editing some of my stuff today, I could see that I'd started and stopped and started and stopped many times in a small section, because I'd have thoughts repeating themselves. I'm glad I'm one of only three people to ever see that edit, because it's embarrassing, but it also highlights a change I need to make in my life.
One, I need to put a process back into place, and two, part of that process needs to involve some 'me' time, something for which I used to fight ferociously, and with the advent of being a family man and professional, I let slowly starve, wither, and die. That needs to change.
I need a mental clean room. I need to be able to go to a place, at least in my head, that tunes everything else out. I used to be good at that, but I'm just so fucking distracted all the time.
I'd still like to have a mobile solution to this, too. I'm constantly on the move, I travel quite a bit, and nearly every day is a crushing load of stuff. There's some paring down that can be done there, but not a lot, if I want to keep losing weight, maintain a happy marriage, connect with my child, and show some level of proficiency at my job.
Writing every day needs to be in there.
I've even given thought to writing first thing in the morning. I've heard Toni Morrison talk about doing this, and she's had success, so maybe there's something there for me. I dunno, though. Even being two years sober now, I'm still not a morning person.
We'll see. Thoughts from other writers or artists are welcome.
Other Projects
I put everything else on hold. I need to write this book, and I need to write it now. I've got some musical and game-related stuff in the pipeline that I'm really excited to work on, but this Endless Wars novel is very much front and center. I've got some downtime planned this winter, and I'd love to crank on this thing hard.
Yup. Just checking in.
Blaine
20121018
Lore and World-Building
I play a lot of RPGs and I read a lot of huge, sprawling science fiction and fantasy series. Among my favorites are Bioware's Dragon Age and Mass Effect series, as well as George R. R. Martin's 'A Song of Ice & Fire' ('Games of Thrones' on TV), and a handful of others. In each of these properties, there's a huge amount of lore and fully fleshed-out worlds, both of which make the experience so much more immersive, and really give it more of an 'escapist' feel, something for which I strive, given how much I enjoy it myself.
When I started crafting the Endless Wars universe, I approached it with a blissful naivete that very much empowered me to write the first novel with very few concerns, and even less caution. It's a great story that's supported by a youthful lack of foresight inherent to the 'fuck it all' kind of young man I was at that time.
Now, being a more seasoned writer whose tastes have expanded beyond Star Wars and Lethal Weapon (though I still love both dearly), the second novel has demanded that I actually start organizing and more fully fleshing out the world(s) of Endless Wars. This novel is so much bigger and more ambitious than the first, it's frankly somewhat intimidating.
The first challenge I had was finding when to start the current story in the series' chronology. If you've read the first book, you know that the series extends over a vast expanse of time, as well as universes other than this one.
See, the hard part was that I'd written the first novel when I was in my very early twenties. I then moved on to some film and music projects, dabbled with some short stories, wrote big chunks of other series, and false-started on the sequel several times. The next thing I knew, I was in my mid-thirties and wasn't the same man I was over a decade before.
After a lot of thinking and tinkering, I finally found my way back in, and the writing has been progressing.
What became apparent, though, was that I'd never actually written out a lot of the lore or the rules of the world(s). I had it all in my head, or in the first book, but I didn't have strong documentation. Having an IT background, such is anathema.
I knew what the relationship was between Lord Dell and Ravindranathan, but hadn't really fully articulated it. I knew what Raphael's true mission was, but hadn't actually written it out. I had a rough history of the various guilds and covens, but hadn't fully organized their hierarchies. I knew what had happened to Layne, but couldn't remember what his girlfriend's name was.
That first novel is, by my standards, a fairly lean, but well-toned, book, and it contained a wealth of knowledge that I'd never compiled into a single, easily-searchable database.
To that end, I started two side projects. One was a OneNote notebook that I could easily edit on the fly, and the other was a wiki (that I've yet to touch at all.) The OneNote is ... coming along. Sort of. It's getting there. Well, it has to.
***side note - if you want to pitch in and help with the wiki, I'll be very, very thankful and throw you a shout-out in the next novel! Just let me know!***
What I've been finding is that it's one thing to have a very strong vision for a world, but it's another to take that macrosopic view and drill down to the microscopic details.
I've just never been an organized writer. I don't really work with outlines. I tend to just be guided by feel and instinct. I have a rough idea of where things are going, but I love the thrill of getting there organically, and surprising myself. That's a fine way to work, but when world-building, you have to have rules, you have to have knowledge ready to go. Otherwise, you can commit the most grievous of sins: a lack of continuity. Nothing shatters the fiction like contradicting your own world.
Another thing is that this book isn't as tidy as the first. There are concurrent storylines in it, and that makes the organization all the more necessary. I need to make sure that all these threads don't tangle. Well, that, and I'm playing a dangerous game with two of the storylines that is bound to cause confusion for some, but will hopefully be a beautiful 'aha' moment for many.
Well, maybe. I floated a rough draft of the first few chapters by a very smart fellow writer and that person didn't at all grasp the trick I was playing, which of course led to a tantrum on my part. This person is a brilliant individual, and yet missed a few key, but very subtle details that kept them from fully enjoying the story.
That raises another question. Do I write for the audience or do I write for me? I know that seems like a 'duh' question to many, but it's a question with which I've wrestled for years, and is probably the main reason I'm so sporadic in my publishing. I always set out to craft the book/film/album/game that I've always wanted, but haven't been able to find, which implies that I'm writing for me. However, doesn't that defeat the purpose of then sharing and monetizing the project when I've finished it?
I usually find that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I suspect that's true here, as well.
The E-Book
So, I've been asked when the first EW book is making its way back to Kindle, Nook, and iBooks. It's coming, but not tomorrow. First, I need to buy another ISBN for it (which is my choice, so that I own all the rights to it instead of my publisher), then I need to redo some of the formatting so that it makes a nice .epub file. The .epub conversion is a pain in the ass, and because of other commitments (the second novel, plus some musical work this winter), we're looking at spring 2013 at the earliest.
One thing I've always wanted to do is borrow from what visual media does with things like 'extras.' I'd like to pack in a 'commentary track,' so to speak. Right now, I'm thinking about, in the .epub file, at the end of each chapter, having a button for 'next chapter' and a button for 'commentary.' The commentary will be a brief write-up of some interesting insight and ramblings on the content of the previous chapter, while the 'next chapter' button jumps over it. At the end will be an essay about writing the book, editing it, publishing it, and all the 'life' things that went along with it.
I'm not sure, though. I'll have to play with it a bit. I guess the idea would be that you'd read the book without the commentary, and then go back, skim the chapter to refresh yourself, and then read the commentary. I dunno. I'm just spitballing at this point.
I've also considered adding 'deleted scenes,' but they're so fucking awful (to everyone but John) that I'm not really feeling that at this point. I mean, they got cut for a reason. Because they suck! Who wants to read that shit?
We'll see.
In Closing
I like writing about writing here. Sometimes it feels a bit masturbatory, and I think I got a little self-conscious about that. I'm friends with other writers, and some of them work really hard at having a 'writer' image, which I've always found a bit obnoxious. It's like they put on a uniform in order to be part of something larger, and I've never really been comfortable in that space. I shouldn't judge, though. If it helps someone write amazing shit, then the world is a better place for it.
That being said, I'd like to come back here and just write more often. I'm far more self-conscious than I'd like to admit, and I need to get over that. This is probably good therapy.
Anyway, that's all.
-Blaine
Buy Endless Wars: The Descent!
Amazon Barnes & Noble Lulu
When I started crafting the Endless Wars universe, I approached it with a blissful naivete that very much empowered me to write the first novel with very few concerns, and even less caution. It's a great story that's supported by a youthful lack of foresight inherent to the 'fuck it all' kind of young man I was at that time.
Now, being a more seasoned writer whose tastes have expanded beyond Star Wars and Lethal Weapon (though I still love both dearly), the second novel has demanded that I actually start organizing and more fully fleshing out the world(s) of Endless Wars. This novel is so much bigger and more ambitious than the first, it's frankly somewhat intimidating.
The first challenge I had was finding when to start the current story in the series' chronology. If you've read the first book, you know that the series extends over a vast expanse of time, as well as universes other than this one.
See, the hard part was that I'd written the first novel when I was in my very early twenties. I then moved on to some film and music projects, dabbled with some short stories, wrote big chunks of other series, and false-started on the sequel several times. The next thing I knew, I was in my mid-thirties and wasn't the same man I was over a decade before.
After a lot of thinking and tinkering, I finally found my way back in, and the writing has been progressing.
What became apparent, though, was that I'd never actually written out a lot of the lore or the rules of the world(s). I had it all in my head, or in the first book, but I didn't have strong documentation. Having an IT background, such is anathema.
I knew what the relationship was between Lord Dell and Ravindranathan, but hadn't really fully articulated it. I knew what Raphael's true mission was, but hadn't actually written it out. I had a rough history of the various guilds and covens, but hadn't fully organized their hierarchies. I knew what had happened to Layne, but couldn't remember what his girlfriend's name was.
That first novel is, by my standards, a fairly lean, but well-toned, book, and it contained a wealth of knowledge that I'd never compiled into a single, easily-searchable database.
To that end, I started two side projects. One was a OneNote notebook that I could easily edit on the fly, and the other was a wiki (that I've yet to touch at all.) The OneNote is ... coming along. Sort of. It's getting there. Well, it has to.
***side note - if you want to pitch in and help with the wiki, I'll be very, very thankful and throw you a shout-out in the next novel! Just let me know!***
What I've been finding is that it's one thing to have a very strong vision for a world, but it's another to take that macrosopic view and drill down to the microscopic details.
I've just never been an organized writer. I don't really work with outlines. I tend to just be guided by feel and instinct. I have a rough idea of where things are going, but I love the thrill of getting there organically, and surprising myself. That's a fine way to work, but when world-building, you have to have rules, you have to have knowledge ready to go. Otherwise, you can commit the most grievous of sins: a lack of continuity. Nothing shatters the fiction like contradicting your own world.
Another thing is that this book isn't as tidy as the first. There are concurrent storylines in it, and that makes the organization all the more necessary. I need to make sure that all these threads don't tangle. Well, that, and I'm playing a dangerous game with two of the storylines that is bound to cause confusion for some, but will hopefully be a beautiful 'aha' moment for many.
Well, maybe. I floated a rough draft of the first few chapters by a very smart fellow writer and that person didn't at all grasp the trick I was playing, which of course led to a tantrum on my part. This person is a brilliant individual, and yet missed a few key, but very subtle details that kept them from fully enjoying the story.
That raises another question. Do I write for the audience or do I write for me? I know that seems like a 'duh' question to many, but it's a question with which I've wrestled for years, and is probably the main reason I'm so sporadic in my publishing. I always set out to craft the book/film/album/game that I've always wanted, but haven't been able to find, which implies that I'm writing for me. However, doesn't that defeat the purpose of then sharing and monetizing the project when I've finished it?
I usually find that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I suspect that's true here, as well.
The E-Book
So, I've been asked when the first EW book is making its way back to Kindle, Nook, and iBooks. It's coming, but not tomorrow. First, I need to buy another ISBN for it (which is my choice, so that I own all the rights to it instead of my publisher), then I need to redo some of the formatting so that it makes a nice .epub file. The .epub conversion is a pain in the ass, and because of other commitments (the second novel, plus some musical work this winter), we're looking at spring 2013 at the earliest.
One thing I've always wanted to do is borrow from what visual media does with things like 'extras.' I'd like to pack in a 'commentary track,' so to speak. Right now, I'm thinking about, in the .epub file, at the end of each chapter, having a button for 'next chapter' and a button for 'commentary.' The commentary will be a brief write-up of some interesting insight and ramblings on the content of the previous chapter, while the 'next chapter' button jumps over it. At the end will be an essay about writing the book, editing it, publishing it, and all the 'life' things that went along with it.
I'm not sure, though. I'll have to play with it a bit. I guess the idea would be that you'd read the book without the commentary, and then go back, skim the chapter to refresh yourself, and then read the commentary. I dunno. I'm just spitballing at this point.
I've also considered adding 'deleted scenes,' but they're so fucking awful (to everyone but John) that I'm not really feeling that at this point. I mean, they got cut for a reason. Because they suck! Who wants to read that shit?
We'll see.
In Closing
I like writing about writing here. Sometimes it feels a bit masturbatory, and I think I got a little self-conscious about that. I'm friends with other writers, and some of them work really hard at having a 'writer' image, which I've always found a bit obnoxious. It's like they put on a uniform in order to be part of something larger, and I've never really been comfortable in that space. I shouldn't judge, though. If it helps someone write amazing shit, then the world is a better place for it.
That being said, I'd like to come back here and just write more often. I'm far more self-conscious than I'd like to admit, and I need to get over that. This is probably good therapy.
Anyway, that's all.
-Blaine
Buy Endless Wars: The Descent!
Amazon Barnes & Noble Lulu
20120615
Triplets
So, in rapping with my dear friends Iris and Bucho in the comments of my last post, something about which I'd been quietly meditating for a few days came up.
Iris indicated a reticence to work on more than one project at once, while Bucho made a great point about how multiple projects can, in a cool way, inform each other.
See, I've got three unfinished novels lying there, and a deep passion for each. One is a sequel to my last novel, another is the first steps into my own space opera, while the third is, I think, another horror/suspense piece. I think.
In any case, I'd been contemplating attacking two at once, and either alternating days on them, or just letting my passion go where it takes me, so long as I bang out that all-important page-a-day.
What's influenced this, as well, is my contemplation of how 'me time' works nowadays, as this would be the window in which I would tackle such an enterprise. The context of 'me' changes drastically not only when you partner with a mate for life, but when the two of you collaborate on an offspring or several. Being that I've extended what I 'need' in order to continue a reasonably palpable existence by bringing these two under my 'great umbrella of life,' this fundamentally alters what 'me' is, and thus 'me time' becomes something that is paroled with a severely diminished fervency. View this not as a complaint, but as a topic on which I'm meditating.
In any case, I just want to fucking write.
If I want it badly enough, I'll do it. Kinda like my recent surge in body maintenance.
I commented, previously, that I'm interested in trying to write first thing in the morning. I may have some quiet time in which I've not quite piqued the interest of the rest of the world, and the timing is in such proximity to the dream world, that I can't help but wonder if that aspect might be conducive to some pleasant surprises in my writing.
Alas, I despise getting up before 7AM, so we'll see. Otherwise, mayhap I'll just make some time in the hour or so before bed.
Yeah, so I'm eager to get cranking on something. I've got solid footholds on two of them, and some reworking to do on the space opera. I just made some odd decisions in its first few chapters, and need to clean that up. I'm thinking that one's shelved for a bit, while I'll push on the other two immediately. I may even fold the 'horror/suspense' novel into the Endless Wars universe. We'll see.
When do you write?
-Blaine
Iris indicated a reticence to work on more than one project at once, while Bucho made a great point about how multiple projects can, in a cool way, inform each other.
See, I've got three unfinished novels lying there, and a deep passion for each. One is a sequel to my last novel, another is the first steps into my own space opera, while the third is, I think, another horror/suspense piece. I think.
In any case, I'd been contemplating attacking two at once, and either alternating days on them, or just letting my passion go where it takes me, so long as I bang out that all-important page-a-day.
What's influenced this, as well, is my contemplation of how 'me time' works nowadays, as this would be the window in which I would tackle such an enterprise. The context of 'me' changes drastically not only when you partner with a mate for life, but when the two of you collaborate on an offspring or several. Being that I've extended what I 'need' in order to continue a reasonably palpable existence by bringing these two under my 'great umbrella of life,' this fundamentally alters what 'me' is, and thus 'me time' becomes something that is paroled with a severely diminished fervency. View this not as a complaint, but as a topic on which I'm meditating.
In any case, I just want to fucking write.
If I want it badly enough, I'll do it. Kinda like my recent surge in body maintenance.
I commented, previously, that I'm interested in trying to write first thing in the morning. I may have some quiet time in which I've not quite piqued the interest of the rest of the world, and the timing is in such proximity to the dream world, that I can't help but wonder if that aspect might be conducive to some pleasant surprises in my writing.
Alas, I despise getting up before 7AM, so we'll see. Otherwise, mayhap I'll just make some time in the hour or so before bed.
Yeah, so I'm eager to get cranking on something. I've got solid footholds on two of them, and some reworking to do on the space opera. I just made some odd decisions in its first few chapters, and need to clean that up. I'm thinking that one's shelved for a bit, while I'll push on the other two immediately. I may even fold the 'horror/suspense' novel into the Endless Wars universe. We'll see.
When do you write?
-Blaine
20111111
Winter is Coming
Yes, I haven't posted since August. Things got really, really busy on a professional level, and like a professional, I had to triage my personal life. One of the easiest things to discard, albeit temporarily, is this blog.
That being said, things have settled down a bit, for now, and I'm slowly coming to trust reality again. There were a couple weeks there where I was so worn down that I was literally having to devote energy into not poisoning my own thoughts. I know it sounds like crazy psycho-babble, but most people let a single event shape their perception of something, rather than letting the average experience from a large sample size inform their perspective. In this case, I was fighting against an extremely tough week that came after 6-8 hard weeks, and my mind wanted to blame 'the job.' My mind wanted to paint 'the job' in a very negative light, and hate it, and fear it, and just do whatever it took to get away from it.
That would've been stupid. My rational mind, though it was broken and bleeding, kept reminding me, 'you have a really great job.'
I'm a system administrator, in case you didn't know, and it's the best damn job in the world. It's hard, hard work, but it's always interesting, always changing, there's no college degree for it, and it makes you one of the elite that literally run the world.
Anyway, being a sysadmin is weird in that the job ramps up and down, seemingly at random. If shit is gonna break, it's gonna break one after another for a few weeks or months, and then things will be quiet for a few weeks or months. It's this way in the corporate world, at least. In the academic world, it's a little more predictable.
Getting back to the point, though, one of the hardest things to do is maintain a rational, detached perspective. It's like my dad always says, 'Quit being so fucking emotional.' Good advice.
But, if you're anything like me, you're a passionate person and you've made it this far due in part to the fact that you're a passionate person. Your emotions are what help propel you, but you have to know that they can work against you, too.
What I've found is that the higher you go, the more selective you have to be about when it's appropriate to let yourself really feel, and when it's not. It's okay to be a Klingon sometimes, but you have to be straight-up Vulcan at other times.
What's difficult is that we live in a time in which society insists that we cry, laugh, and express our true selves all the time, and even thinking about just shutting your damn mouth and shoving your feelings down is anathema, even nearly heretical, in this day and age.
See, I think that's stupid. I can't function in this world if I'm giving in to my feelings all the time, or even allowing myself to feel them. I have to be selective, or I can't be a productive, reasoned person.
A big part of the reason why I have a healthy marriage is I know when my feelings are wrong.
A big part of the reason that I've been able to salvage my professional life to the point where I'm working a 'real' job (I even have a cubicle) is I'm learning when to shut my mouth and turn my feelings off.
A big part of the reason that I have a few really great friends is because I'm getting better and better at not being that asshole that hijacks the conversation and makes it all about me when they need to talk something out.
I refuse to be one of the mewling, whimpering 'sensitive' guys. I'd rather be a man that has some goddam pride in himself.
Now, before one of you sensitive guys start crying and shrieking in the comments, let me frame all this in the context that I'm a strong believer in 'balance.' All things in this life must be balanced, including what I'm saying here. I've actually cried in front of my wife once or twice, and when I wasn't a drunk attention whore, it was for good reason. Passion and feelings are necessary to life, but I don't think people should be governed solely by them. Logic and reason MUST be able to override them if one is to truly enjoy life.
All things in balance.
I'd like to get back to writing more. I'm also thinking about posting over at Untitled Gaming again. Been doing a lot of gaming lately to help 'clear the mechanism'.
-Blaine
BTW - You should buy either a book or an ebook!
That being said, things have settled down a bit, for now, and I'm slowly coming to trust reality again. There were a couple weeks there where I was so worn down that I was literally having to devote energy into not poisoning my own thoughts. I know it sounds like crazy psycho-babble, but most people let a single event shape their perception of something, rather than letting the average experience from a large sample size inform their perspective. In this case, I was fighting against an extremely tough week that came after 6-8 hard weeks, and my mind wanted to blame 'the job.' My mind wanted to paint 'the job' in a very negative light, and hate it, and fear it, and just do whatever it took to get away from it.
That would've been stupid. My rational mind, though it was broken and bleeding, kept reminding me, 'you have a really great job.'
I'm a system administrator, in case you didn't know, and it's the best damn job in the world. It's hard, hard work, but it's always interesting, always changing, there's no college degree for it, and it makes you one of the elite that literally run the world.
Anyway, being a sysadmin is weird in that the job ramps up and down, seemingly at random. If shit is gonna break, it's gonna break one after another for a few weeks or months, and then things will be quiet for a few weeks or months. It's this way in the corporate world, at least. In the academic world, it's a little more predictable.
Getting back to the point, though, one of the hardest things to do is maintain a rational, detached perspective. It's like my dad always says, 'Quit being so fucking emotional.' Good advice.
But, if you're anything like me, you're a passionate person and you've made it this far due in part to the fact that you're a passionate person. Your emotions are what help propel you, but you have to know that they can work against you, too.
What I've found is that the higher you go, the more selective you have to be about when it's appropriate to let yourself really feel, and when it's not. It's okay to be a Klingon sometimes, but you have to be straight-up Vulcan at other times.
What's difficult is that we live in a time in which society insists that we cry, laugh, and express our true selves all the time, and even thinking about just shutting your damn mouth and shoving your feelings down is anathema, even nearly heretical, in this day and age.
See, I think that's stupid. I can't function in this world if I'm giving in to my feelings all the time, or even allowing myself to feel them. I have to be selective, or I can't be a productive, reasoned person.
A big part of the reason why I have a healthy marriage is I know when my feelings are wrong.
A big part of the reason that I've been able to salvage my professional life to the point where I'm working a 'real' job (I even have a cubicle) is I'm learning when to shut my mouth and turn my feelings off.
A big part of the reason that I have a few really great friends is because I'm getting better and better at not being that asshole that hijacks the conversation and makes it all about me when they need to talk something out.
I refuse to be one of the mewling, whimpering 'sensitive' guys. I'd rather be a man that has some goddam pride in himself.
Now, before one of you sensitive guys start crying and shrieking in the comments, let me frame all this in the context that I'm a strong believer in 'balance.' All things in this life must be balanced, including what I'm saying here. I've actually cried in front of my wife once or twice, and when I wasn't a drunk attention whore, it was for good reason. Passion and feelings are necessary to life, but I don't think people should be governed solely by them. Logic and reason MUST be able to override them if one is to truly enjoy life.
All things in balance.
I'd like to get back to writing more. I'm also thinking about posting over at Untitled Gaming again. Been doing a lot of gaming lately to help 'clear the mechanism'.
-Blaine
BTW - You should buy either a book or an ebook!
20110820
On the Road Again
I'm taking a break from exploring the endless expanse known to some as 'the Midwest' to bring you some exciting news.
The first novel in my 'Endless Wars' series is FINALLY available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble!
This has been a looong time coming, and I'm glad that we're finally here.
Also, it'll soon be up on the iBookstore. I'll blast something out when that happens.
To clarify, this is the same novel I released in 2009 with a different cover and a different font. If you wanna double-dip, my son's college fund thanks you.
Also, lulu.com still has the paperback and ebook available, and I actually make more money if you buy it that route.
Lastly, the ebook that is available through Lulu is fully compatible with Kindle and Nook. It's a DRM-free .epub file, so you'll have no trouble moving it from your computer to the ereader via USB.
If you haven't read it, it's the first book I wrote, way back in the 90s, and it may have accidentally triggered that whole 'urban gothic fiction' thing, though it actually has more in common with Star Wars than it does True Blood.
True Blood is a fine series, but it's not the kind of thing I'd ever write.
A Matter of Perspective
So, I'm fleshing out the story of my 'interactive novel' phone app, and I'm still going back and forth about the perspective in the writing. First, second, and third person are all on the table. I have a natural dislike for second person, because I'm not a pretentious fuckwad, and omniscient third person just doesn't seem right for a tale that's relying heavily on mystery. A lot of the game will be the reader controlling where the main character goes, what the main character says, and ultimately, what situation the main character ends up in. What do you think?
I've even given thought to breaking the fourth wall a bit, and forging a relationship between the main character and the reader, but we'll see. How do you feel when the author breaks the fourth wall.
I'm also still hashing out how to have a 'save game' that will a) save the reader's place AND choices, and b) port into the next volume and carry over the reader's choices. Anyone got any pro-tips?
Wedding Receptions
LOOK, if you're going to ask a guy to drive his family and three dogs across the midwest for your wedding, I would like it, NEIGH, I demand that you not serve ONLY diet vegan rabbit food at your reception. I get that you're into the whole 'fitness' thing, but GODDAM! I'm dieting, yes, but I'm doing so by eating normal portions of normal food, not by punishing my taste buds. The next time I walk up to a buffet table and see only carrots, cauliflower, strawberries, and other wild animal food, I may just flip the motherfucker over.
Sitting through a wedding is tough enough. Weddings are a whole lot of 'hurry up and wait.' To then symbolically knee someone in the groin by trying to ram bunny food down their throats is just uncalled for.
ON TOP OF THAT, if you're not gonna have soft drinks ... I don't know what to tell you. I'm an alcoholic meat eater. It's as if this reception was designed specifically to repel my presence. I don't drink and I eat good food. Bizarro Me would've been fine. The version of me that pounds the booze, wolfs down veggies, uses a Mac (oblivious to the irony of being a computer geek and using a Mac), pounds other man butts, and drives American cars would've been just fine at this reception.
Alas, this me has fucking standards, and was saved only by the courage and determination of a kind soul that must've seen the agony rippling through the crowd as the reality of the food selection eventually took hold.
In a single act of bravery, someone whipped up a white sauce chicken pasta, and delivered all of us from the evils of the Vegan Empire.
It was as if Bill Pullman burst into the kitchen and began yelling, 'WE WILL NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT! WE WILL HAVE CHICKEN ON THIS DAY!'
I wanted to hug someone.
Understand, as well, that I was dealing with some things. There's a lot of drama at work right now, we are watching my parents' dogs, one of whom can make noise all night, we drove through horrid St. Louis traffic, right into two-hour Indianapolis construction traffic, followed by our dog keeping us up all night, and then I woke up with back spasms, so I took three Tylenol that were in the Tylenol bottle, except they were actually Tylenol PM, and it was a couple hours before the wedding, sooo ... yeah, the whole thing was kinda screwed up. I'm just glad that my relatives are super-cool and put up with my ass-ness.
That is all. If you haven't bought a book, please take a look at it.
Thanks, all! Leave a comment! I love to have discussions!
-Blaine
Also, it'll soon be up on the iBookstore. I'll blast something out when that happens.
To clarify, this is the same novel I released in 2009 with a different cover and a different font. If you wanna double-dip, my son's college fund thanks you.
Also, lulu.com still has the paperback and ebook available, and I actually make more money if you buy it that route.
Lastly, the ebook that is available through Lulu is fully compatible with Kindle and Nook. It's a DRM-free .epub file, so you'll have no trouble moving it from your computer to the ereader via USB.
If you haven't read it, it's the first book I wrote, way back in the 90s, and it may have accidentally triggered that whole 'urban gothic fiction' thing, though it actually has more in common with Star Wars than it does True Blood.
True Blood is a fine series, but it's not the kind of thing I'd ever write.
A Matter of Perspective
So, I'm fleshing out the story of my 'interactive novel' phone app, and I'm still going back and forth about the perspective in the writing. First, second, and third person are all on the table. I have a natural dislike for second person, because I'm not a pretentious fuckwad, and omniscient third person just doesn't seem right for a tale that's relying heavily on mystery. A lot of the game will be the reader controlling where the main character goes, what the main character says, and ultimately, what situation the main character ends up in. What do you think?
I've even given thought to breaking the fourth wall a bit, and forging a relationship between the main character and the reader, but we'll see. How do you feel when the author breaks the fourth wall.
I'm also still hashing out how to have a 'save game' that will a) save the reader's place AND choices, and b) port into the next volume and carry over the reader's choices. Anyone got any pro-tips?
Wedding Receptions
LOOK, if you're going to ask a guy to drive his family and three dogs across the midwest for your wedding, I would like it, NEIGH, I demand that you not serve ONLY diet vegan rabbit food at your reception. I get that you're into the whole 'fitness' thing, but GODDAM! I'm dieting, yes, but I'm doing so by eating normal portions of normal food, not by punishing my taste buds. The next time I walk up to a buffet table and see only carrots, cauliflower, strawberries, and other wild animal food, I may just flip the motherfucker over.
Sitting through a wedding is tough enough. Weddings are a whole lot of 'hurry up and wait.' To then symbolically knee someone in the groin by trying to ram bunny food down their throats is just uncalled for.
ON TOP OF THAT, if you're not gonna have soft drinks ... I don't know what to tell you. I'm an alcoholic meat eater. It's as if this reception was designed specifically to repel my presence. I don't drink and I eat good food. Bizarro Me would've been fine. The version of me that pounds the booze, wolfs down veggies, uses a Mac (oblivious to the irony of being a computer geek and using a Mac), pounds other man butts, and drives American cars would've been just fine at this reception.
Alas, this me has fucking standards, and was saved only by the courage and determination of a kind soul that must've seen the agony rippling through the crowd as the reality of the food selection eventually took hold.
In a single act of bravery, someone whipped up a white sauce chicken pasta, and delivered all of us from the evils of the Vegan Empire.
It was as if Bill Pullman burst into the kitchen and began yelling, 'WE WILL NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT! WE WILL HAVE CHICKEN ON THIS DAY!'
I wanted to hug someone.
Understand, as well, that I was dealing with some things. There's a lot of drama at work right now, we are watching my parents' dogs, one of whom can make noise all night, we drove through horrid St. Louis traffic, right into two-hour Indianapolis construction traffic, followed by our dog keeping us up all night, and then I woke up with back spasms, so I took three Tylenol that were in the Tylenol bottle, except they were actually Tylenol PM, and it was a couple hours before the wedding, sooo ... yeah, the whole thing was kinda screwed up. I'm just glad that my relatives are super-cool and put up with my ass-ness.
That is all. If you haven't bought a book, please take a look at it.
Thanks, all! Leave a comment! I love to have discussions!
-Blaine
20110812
Sycophants and Ass-Clowns
First of all, if you're hitting this blog via the front page, please allow me to apologize for that Star Wars music that just auto-played. I hate that shit, too, but I didn't realize, two posts ago, that video was an auto-play when I embedded it. My bad. Just take a moment, scroll down, and pause it.
I'll wait.
Okay, so before I begin this tirade, I want to point you to a really good blog.
If you like this blog, but find yourself longing for something that's written much more coherently, and caters much more specifically to those that are interested in the craft of writing, and has fewer run-on sentences, and is less of a shambolic shithole, please allow me to introduce you to Fists & Angels, Christs & Angels. It's written by one of my good buddies, Bucho. We used to be super-tight, but then he turned into a better writer than I am, so fuck him.
Also, fake beer can really hit the spot on a Friday night when buried in your creative mental space. Yes, I'm THAT guy, now.
The title of this post ... it came from a conversation that I was having with some friends at work ... I vent a considerable amount lately, and for good reason. I vent for good reasons that I'm not going to get into here, but if you know me, you know what the deal is. The short version is that I plopped down in the chair next to Captain Butthurt's cubicle and muttered, 'I am so sick of dealing with sycophants and ass-clowns.' Yeah, there's some shit going down that I'm part of, but I'll survive it one way or another.
ANYWAY, the Captain said I had to use 'Sycophants and Ass-Clowns' as this weekend's post title. Since I do what I'm told, I did.
Truth
I sometimes fantasize about the inevitable future. Right now, the world is controlled by money, but eventually, all of us SysAdmins are going to rise up and grab them by the surprisingly undersized balls and demand a change.
You see, we control the world.
You don't necessarily know it right now, but your computer was able to be manufactured because several sysadmins allowed it to happen via networking and server administration. Your internet connection is maintained by an army of sysadmins. Your power stays on because sysadmins allow it by making sure that the right servers can talk to the right systems, in addition to maintaining the networking that goes into that.
We control the lights. We control the TV. We control the internet. We control the phones. We control the traffic lights. We control the porn. We control Justin Bieber. We control the world.
One day, reality TV will go away, or I will rally the troops and bring this world to its fucking knees.
Just think about it.
Network Programming
I want to talk about Alphas and Falling Skies for a moment.
It's rare that a major network doesn't fall upon its own sword to avoid producing a good science fiction series. Somehow, Falling Skies managed to become quite good after 2-3 episodes.
What it did well was follow the Walking Dead roadmap. It treated the aliens as a device, rather than as a focus, and shifted the emphasis to the people, and how they re-learn to live their lives.
While it's not nearly as good as The Walking Dead, it definitely filled a niche this summer.
If it wants to reach The Walking Dead status, it needs to make the characters more interesting, and stop just relying on conflict to achieve that. Conflict can be a good way to engage the viewer, but it gets tiresome if that's all that's going on.
They did seem to catch onto this a bit as the eight-episode season went on, but the show hasn't truly blossomed yet.
As for Alphas, this is my new SyFy show. This one has been solid from the pilot on. The characters are engaging and sympathetic, and the plots have been fun. It really is Heroes + X-Files.
If I had to recommend one new show for the summer, it would be Alphas.
That Phone App
The Windows Phone app is proceeding apace. I've been looking at approaches to the game logic, as well as incubating the 'story' in my head. I use quotes because it's not one linear story. If a story is a thread, this is a tapestry.
The logic part is challenging because this can really be approached a number of different ways. I could have a left-to-right branching series that starts skinny on the left, gets fat in the middle, then gets skinny again on the right, then gets fat again going further right, then gets skinny again, etc. I could also use an Enum, as suggested by Captain Butthurt, to tick a set of events, that once fulfilled, opens the next section, then repeats a few times. Additionally, I could also plant a few key decisions in a branching series that then set the path to one of several middle points, which then each open up to their own sets of branches, wash, rinse, repeat.
So, I've got some planning to do, then some writing, then some coding, and then a cigarette.
That Science Fiction Novel
This coming along well, if in a somewhat halted fashion. This is the first novel I've ever written in which I get self-conscious. It's very unlike me, but I'm really pushing things in a VERY adult direction, a la Battlestar Galactica or The Walking Dead, but with a dash of Firefly. I think part of my discomfort comes from the fact that I'm working in the holiest of genres for the first time, so I'm having to relearn my approach somewhat.
Also, this is the first book I've ever written while not totally shitfaced most of the time, so I'm having to rebuild my process somewhat. A writer gives him or herself permission to do a lot more when they're 'altered' while writing, and that can be a very potent thing, and I've handcuffed myself somewhat in terms of the creative process.
So, I'm loving this book so far, even if it makes me a little nuts sometimes. I think I'm lingering too long on certain characters, but it's because I'm so interested in them, and that's what editing's for, dammit.
Where the hell is the next Endless Wars novel?
It'll come. Not soon, though. There are other projects I want to get out the door first, and that's a series that's complicated for me to approach now.
Book Recommendations
I need some good non-licensed works reading. What ya got?
-Blaine
Soundtrack
Red Fang - Prehistoric Dog
Pearl Jam - The Fixer
Eddie Vedder - Can't Keep
Rob Zombie - Werewolf Women of the SS
Tres Mts. - She's My New Song
Rob Zombie - The Man Who Laughs
Tres Mts. - God Told Me
Brad - Luxury Car
Rob Zombie - Sick Bubblegum
Eddie Vedder - Dream a Little Dream With Me
Limp Bizkit - Loser
Avenged Sevenfold - Welcome to the Family
Brad - Runnin' For Cover
Foo Fighters - Dear Rosemary
Slash - We're All Gonna Die
Chris Cornell - Long Gone
Deftones - Diamond Eyes
Them Crooked Vultures - Spinning in Daffodils
Alice in Chains - Your Decision
Korn - Pop a Pill
I'll wait.
Okay, so before I begin this tirade, I want to point you to a really good blog.
If you like this blog, but find yourself longing for something that's written much more coherently, and caters much more specifically to those that are interested in the craft of writing, and has fewer run-on sentences, and is less of a shambolic shithole, please allow me to introduce you to Fists & Angels, Christs & Angels. It's written by one of my good buddies, Bucho. We used to be super-tight, but then he turned into a better writer than I am, so fuck him.
Also, fake beer can really hit the spot on a Friday night when buried in your creative mental space. Yes, I'm THAT guy, now.
The title of this post ... it came from a conversation that I was having with some friends at work ... I vent a considerable amount lately, and for good reason. I vent for good reasons that I'm not going to get into here, but if you know me, you know what the deal is. The short version is that I plopped down in the chair next to Captain Butthurt's cubicle and muttered, 'I am so sick of dealing with sycophants and ass-clowns.' Yeah, there's some shit going down that I'm part of, but I'll survive it one way or another.
ANYWAY, the Captain said I had to use 'Sycophants and Ass-Clowns' as this weekend's post title. Since I do what I'm told, I did.
Truth
I sometimes fantasize about the inevitable future. Right now, the world is controlled by money, but eventually, all of us SysAdmins are going to rise up and grab them by the surprisingly undersized balls and demand a change.
You see, we control the world.
You don't necessarily know it right now, but your computer was able to be manufactured because several sysadmins allowed it to happen via networking and server administration. Your internet connection is maintained by an army of sysadmins. Your power stays on because sysadmins allow it by making sure that the right servers can talk to the right systems, in addition to maintaining the networking that goes into that.
We control the lights. We control the TV. We control the internet. We control the phones. We control the traffic lights. We control the porn. We control Justin Bieber. We control the world.
One day, reality TV will go away, or I will rally the troops and bring this world to its fucking knees.
Just think about it.
Network Programming
I want to talk about Alphas and Falling Skies for a moment.
It's rare that a major network doesn't fall upon its own sword to avoid producing a good science fiction series. Somehow, Falling Skies managed to become quite good after 2-3 episodes.
What it did well was follow the Walking Dead roadmap. It treated the aliens as a device, rather than as a focus, and shifted the emphasis to the people, and how they re-learn to live their lives.
While it's not nearly as good as The Walking Dead, it definitely filled a niche this summer.
If it wants to reach The Walking Dead status, it needs to make the characters more interesting, and stop just relying on conflict to achieve that. Conflict can be a good way to engage the viewer, but it gets tiresome if that's all that's going on.
They did seem to catch onto this a bit as the eight-episode season went on, but the show hasn't truly blossomed yet.
As for Alphas, this is my new SyFy show. This one has been solid from the pilot on. The characters are engaging and sympathetic, and the plots have been fun. It really is Heroes + X-Files.
If I had to recommend one new show for the summer, it would be Alphas.
That Phone App
The Windows Phone app is proceeding apace. I've been looking at approaches to the game logic, as well as incubating the 'story' in my head. I use quotes because it's not one linear story. If a story is a thread, this is a tapestry.
The logic part is challenging because this can really be approached a number of different ways. I could have a left-to-right branching series that starts skinny on the left, gets fat in the middle, then gets skinny again on the right, then gets fat again going further right, then gets skinny again, etc. I could also use an Enum, as suggested by Captain Butthurt, to tick a set of events, that once fulfilled, opens the next section, then repeats a few times. Additionally, I could also plant a few key decisions in a branching series that then set the path to one of several middle points, which then each open up to their own sets of branches, wash, rinse, repeat.
So, I've got some planning to do, then some writing, then some coding, and then a cigarette.
That Science Fiction Novel
This coming along well, if in a somewhat halted fashion. This is the first novel I've ever written in which I get self-conscious. It's very unlike me, but I'm really pushing things in a VERY adult direction, a la Battlestar Galactica or The Walking Dead, but with a dash of Firefly. I think part of my discomfort comes from the fact that I'm working in the holiest of genres for the first time, so I'm having to relearn my approach somewhat.
Also, this is the first book I've ever written while not totally shitfaced most of the time, so I'm having to rebuild my process somewhat. A writer gives him or herself permission to do a lot more when they're 'altered' while writing, and that can be a very potent thing, and I've handcuffed myself somewhat in terms of the creative process.
So, I'm loving this book so far, even if it makes me a little nuts sometimes. I think I'm lingering too long on certain characters, but it's because I'm so interested in them, and that's what editing's for, dammit.
Where the hell is the next Endless Wars novel?
It'll come. Not soon, though. There are other projects I want to get out the door first, and that's a series that's complicated for me to approach now.
Book Recommendations
I need some good non-licensed works reading. What ya got?
-Blaine
Soundtrack
Red Fang - Prehistoric Dog
Pearl Jam - The Fixer
Eddie Vedder - Can't Keep
Rob Zombie - Werewolf Women of the SS
Tres Mts. - She's My New Song
Rob Zombie - The Man Who Laughs
Tres Mts. - God Told Me
Brad - Luxury Car
Rob Zombie - Sick Bubblegum
Eddie Vedder - Dream a Little Dream With Me
Limp Bizkit - Loser
Avenged Sevenfold - Welcome to the Family
Brad - Runnin' For Cover
Foo Fighters - Dear Rosemary
Slash - We're All Gonna Die
Chris Cornell - Long Gone
Deftones - Diamond Eyes
Them Crooked Vultures - Spinning in Daffodils
Alice in Chains - Your Decision
Korn - Pop a Pill
20110624
Creativity Update
For both of my fans out there ...
... the second Endless Wars novel has been shelved indefinitely.
Why?
Most of it goes back to the rampant alcohol consumption that was coinciding with that book's writing. Some of it is because I'm just not in that headspace right now. To write an Endless Wars book, I have to be in a very, very dark place, and I'm just not there right now.
If you haven't read the first book (now available in the iBookstore), do so, and you'll understand what I mean.
For those who don't know, I'm an alcoholic, now six months sober, and that darkness is something that has sloughed away, along with the need to make booze the focal point of my non-work hours.
If the first EW novel, written in 2000, was mildly supplemented by booze, the second novel, half-written last year, was rocket-powered by it.
There's some damn good material in there, but much of it reads like a sugar-high Michael Bay script. The parts that don't are filled with arguments between Taran and Nigel, which I found particularly revealing. What's interesting is that much of the book is devoted to Taran completely falling apart while becoming more powerful, which is an interesting choice.
I don't know. I'm still sifting through my feelings on the book, which is a moot point, because almost all of it was lost.
Yup. I was so fucking drunk so much of the time that I managed to format and write new operating systems onto each of the hard drives it was stored on.
Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, since I have all my PCs sync their 'My Documents' folders all the time, but I managed to have HDD failures in exactly the right order, so that the only left of the book is the first draft of the first couple chapters.
Like I said, I'm still sifting through my feelings about all this.
However, I have two tidbits for you that have me particularly pumped.
First, the second edition of the first book will be hitting Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and the iBookstore in the next month or so (the first edition is still available via iBookstore for a limited time now.) It's on Lulu now, and once we all sign off on it, it'll hit the larger retailers shortly thereafter.
Second, I'm working on a brand-new series, and I'm glad to say that I've FINALLY found a science-fiction idea that works for me.
SciFi has always been my favorite genre, but I've never had a workable idea of my own before. My stories usually straddle the horror/fantasy genre, but this is something that's slowly pieced itself together over the last few years, and after letting it germinate for the last few months, it all clicked into place during E3, and I started banging it out then.
I'm toying with several ideas in terms of novel structure and what makes a novel, and may do something new with this series.
I'm a big fan of HBO & Showtime original series, and when they tackle novels, they tend to treat each novel as a season.
I'm thinking about turning that on its ear, and after writing this novel, I'm thinking about either publishing lots of sequential short stories that would be 'episodes' of a 'season,' or writing sequels as short story collections that carry a common thread through them, like a TV season.
We'll see. Let me know what you think of the idea.
Anyway, I'm about to kick it with an old friend, so I'm gonna jet.
Just let me assure you that it feels great to be writing about robots and spaceships.
-Blaine
... the second Endless Wars novel has been shelved indefinitely.
Why?
Most of it goes back to the rampant alcohol consumption that was coinciding with that book's writing. Some of it is because I'm just not in that headspace right now. To write an Endless Wars book, I have to be in a very, very dark place, and I'm just not there right now.
If you haven't read the first book (now available in the iBookstore), do so, and you'll understand what I mean.
For those who don't know, I'm an alcoholic, now six months sober, and that darkness is something that has sloughed away, along with the need to make booze the focal point of my non-work hours.
If the first EW novel, written in 2000, was mildly supplemented by booze, the second novel, half-written last year, was rocket-powered by it.
There's some damn good material in there, but much of it reads like a sugar-high Michael Bay script. The parts that don't are filled with arguments between Taran and Nigel, which I found particularly revealing. What's interesting is that much of the book is devoted to Taran completely falling apart while becoming more powerful, which is an interesting choice.
I don't know. I'm still sifting through my feelings on the book, which is a moot point, because almost all of it was lost.
Yup. I was so fucking drunk so much of the time that I managed to format and write new operating systems onto each of the hard drives it was stored on.
Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, since I have all my PCs sync their 'My Documents' folders all the time, but I managed to have HDD failures in exactly the right order, so that the only left of the book is the first draft of the first couple chapters.
Like I said, I'm still sifting through my feelings about all this.
However, I have two tidbits for you that have me particularly pumped.
First, the second edition of the first book will be hitting Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and the iBookstore in the next month or so (the first edition is still available via iBookstore for a limited time now.) It's on Lulu now, and once we all sign off on it, it'll hit the larger retailers shortly thereafter.
Second, I'm working on a brand-new series, and I'm glad to say that I've FINALLY found a science-fiction idea that works for me.
SciFi has always been my favorite genre, but I've never had a workable idea of my own before. My stories usually straddle the horror/fantasy genre, but this is something that's slowly pieced itself together over the last few years, and after letting it germinate for the last few months, it all clicked into place during E3, and I started banging it out then.
I'm toying with several ideas in terms of novel structure and what makes a novel, and may do something new with this series.
I'm a big fan of HBO & Showtime original series, and when they tackle novels, they tend to treat each novel as a season.
I'm thinking about turning that on its ear, and after writing this novel, I'm thinking about either publishing lots of sequential short stories that would be 'episodes' of a 'season,' or writing sequels as short story collections that carry a common thread through them, like a TV season.
We'll see. Let me know what you think of the idea.
Anyway, I'm about to kick it with an old friend, so I'm gonna jet.
Just let me assure you that it feels great to be writing about robots and spaceships.
-Blaine
20101003
Going Forward
You may have received an email from me recently. If you're on the mailing list, I've asked you for some opinions on the first book.
In short, I'm publishing a 'special edition' of the first novel. The Endless Wars is getting wide distribution, and I'm celebrating it by putting out a special edition. This will include deleted scenes, an essay from yours truly, the first chapter from the second book, and it MIGHT include the first-ever officially-approved artwork. That's being talked about right now, but we'll see.
One of the hot topics is the font. The first and second editions were put out with my favorite font, 'Courier New.' I'm so used to seeing it, and I may have been drinking quite a bit of rum out of celebration of the book's publishing, that it slipped by me that was the final font. I've heard your bitches, and unless someone else out there shares my love for the font, that I'll be putting it out in something more generic, like Helvetica. At the same time, I'm only going to use an open-source font, so bear with me.
Moving on, I'm still taking feedback for the special edition. I will be revising the text of the book, to bring it more in line with the modern take.
At the same time, I'm still debating whether or not to let fan reaction impact something like updating Taran's demeanor. Do I protect him, or give in to popular demand, and make him a bit more 'cheery?'
Regardless, he is not the same Taran in book two. He's even darker, and struggling with killing his friend, Raphael. On top of that, he's responsible for his people, which weighs on him.
I am not taking any literal story ideas, FYI. What do you think of Taran?
- Blaine
In short, I'm publishing a 'special edition' of the first novel. The Endless Wars is getting wide distribution, and I'm celebrating it by putting out a special edition. This will include deleted scenes, an essay from yours truly, the first chapter from the second book, and it MIGHT include the first-ever officially-approved artwork. That's being talked about right now, but we'll see.
One of the hot topics is the font. The first and second editions were put out with my favorite font, 'Courier New.' I'm so used to seeing it, and I may have been drinking quite a bit of rum out of celebration of the book's publishing, that it slipped by me that was the final font. I've heard your bitches, and unless someone else out there shares my love for the font, that I'll be putting it out in something more generic, like Helvetica. At the same time, I'm only going to use an open-source font, so bear with me.
Moving on, I'm still taking feedback for the special edition. I will be revising the text of the book, to bring it more in line with the modern take.
At the same time, I'm still debating whether or not to let fan reaction impact something like updating Taran's demeanor. Do I protect him, or give in to popular demand, and make him a bit more 'cheery?'
Regardless, he is not the same Taran in book two. He's even darker, and struggling with killing his friend, Raphael. On top of that, he's responsible for his people, which weighs on him.
I am not taking any literal story ideas, FYI. What do you think of Taran?
- Blaine
20100921
Blaine & Taran, getting reacquainted
Posting here has been light, but for good reason. Book Two of the Endless Wars series is seriously underway.
My wife is a remarkable woman, and knows when I've been writing heavily. She knows that it's kind of like talking to your pitcher during a no-hitter, and she just goes on acting like everything's normal, but she'll wear a certain kind of grin after noticing that the OpenOffice/Word file has been open on a particular computer for a few days, and wait for me to approach her about it.
I'm truly blessed by the Maker to be married to another writer. She understands the soul-farming that goes on, and that while it's an exorcising process, it's also a very dark process for me. I don't write about the things that make me smile. Taran and I seize each other and plunge down a rabbit hole that is made more for Showtime than ABC Family.
She lets me stare him in the eye while he and I arm-wrestle for control of my soul. While we face each other down, I pour more and more of my accumulated poison into him. As he writhes in agony, I guide him and help him to deal with it.
This has been going on for over a decade now, and I'm starting to think that she secretly hates Taran. That's fine by me, because I'm his biggest fan, and I understood the dude better than anybody.
The most interesting about writing a sequel, though, is fan feedback. I've been shocked to find that readers generally found Nigel to be their favorite character. While that was really surprising, as I think the guy is sort of a lovable scumbag, it works since this book is very much his book, and his story.
Additionally, I was less surprised that some people found Taran to be a bit of a whiny fuck. Looking back, I agree, and now I'm torn between how much I let reader feedback impact his personal arc and what I've had planned for him for a while. I can tell you, without spoilers, that he's just not meant to be a terribly happy person in his present circumstances, and that things are gonna get even darker for him.
I had a funny moment with my wife tonight, as I mentioned off-handedly that Taran is MUCH darker in this book than the last, and she actually gasp-laughed. 'Are you kidding?' she asked, 'He was already uber-dark in the first novel!' I kinda shrugged. The reason that the other characters exist is to help Taran carry the load, but he's not programmed to share.
Anyway, I was banging keys on here to distract myself while I figured out what the hell to do in the next scene, and now I've got it. If you guys loved any of the characters from the first book, just wait 'til you get a load of the three new folks that are being unveiled in this book. Just like in the first book, they're all sharp personalities that integrate and show new sides of all characters.
That, and there just might be a Nicole appearance.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please go here and buy a book (paperback/ebook) if you love big damn stories with big damn heroes.
-Blaine
My wife is a remarkable woman, and knows when I've been writing heavily. She knows that it's kind of like talking to your pitcher during a no-hitter, and she just goes on acting like everything's normal, but she'll wear a certain kind of grin after noticing that the OpenOffice/Word file has been open on a particular computer for a few days, and wait for me to approach her about it.
I'm truly blessed by the Maker to be married to another writer. She understands the soul-farming that goes on, and that while it's an exorcising process, it's also a very dark process for me. I don't write about the things that make me smile. Taran and I seize each other and plunge down a rabbit hole that is made more for Showtime than ABC Family.
She lets me stare him in the eye while he and I arm-wrestle for control of my soul. While we face each other down, I pour more and more of my accumulated poison into him. As he writhes in agony, I guide him and help him to deal with it.
This has been going on for over a decade now, and I'm starting to think that she secretly hates Taran. That's fine by me, because I'm his biggest fan, and I understood the dude better than anybody.
The most interesting about writing a sequel, though, is fan feedback. I've been shocked to find that readers generally found Nigel to be their favorite character. While that was really surprising, as I think the guy is sort of a lovable scumbag, it works since this book is very much his book, and his story.
Additionally, I was less surprised that some people found Taran to be a bit of a whiny fuck. Looking back, I agree, and now I'm torn between how much I let reader feedback impact his personal arc and what I've had planned for him for a while. I can tell you, without spoilers, that he's just not meant to be a terribly happy person in his present circumstances, and that things are gonna get even darker for him.
I had a funny moment with my wife tonight, as I mentioned off-handedly that Taran is MUCH darker in this book than the last, and she actually gasp-laughed. 'Are you kidding?' she asked, 'He was already uber-dark in the first novel!' I kinda shrugged. The reason that the other characters exist is to help Taran carry the load, but he's not programmed to share.
Anyway, I was banging keys on here to distract myself while I figured out what the hell to do in the next scene, and now I've got it. If you guys loved any of the characters from the first book, just wait 'til you get a load of the three new folks that are being unveiled in this book. Just like in the first book, they're all sharp personalities that integrate and show new sides of all characters.
That, and there just might be a Nicole appearance.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please go here and buy a book (paperback/ebook) if you love big damn stories with big damn heroes.
-Blaine
20100406
Being an Adult Slacker With ADD
First post in a while, I know. Being an adult with ADD can be a real bitch in a lot of ways. For me, the hardest part is prioritizing my time. This is one of the reasons that I'm an overweight, 31-year old slacker who has floated from one totally unrelated field to another.
El Calendario
I'm now using Google Calendar to try to change all that.
What I've done is actually budgeted most of my days to follow a rather rigorous schedule. From my sleeping time to my commute times to my 'at work' time, I've scheduled all the obvious things, but I've also gone a step further and budgeted time for blogging, set a stringent homework schedule, and also made damn sure to set aside time for writing.
As it stands right now, I've filled up nearly all my daytime hours during the week, left the evenings somewhat flexible, and tried not to schedule anything on the weekends.
I've also regulated my eating in this new approach, in an effort to drop 120 pounds as soon as is healthy, and in that effort, I've budgeted exercise time each weekday morning.
The main problems I'm trying to address are: a) I want to be a sharper student in my final (haha) year of study and not push things until the zero hour, b) I need to drop 120 pounds, for all the usual reasons, c) I hardly sleep, and I think a lot of my problems go back to that, or maybe it's circular; whatever, d) I need to write a lot more, and e) I want to do so much more in my life than I am, and that requires that I stop fucking around all the time.
I'll try and keep all two or three of you updated on my progress in this regard.
In Other News
- I'm pretty sure Endless Wars is going to end up on the iBook store pretty soon. The publisher sent me an email about it, but as stated before, I'm a slacker, and have not followed up on it yet. One thing I'll be looking at closely is the money. I'm annoyed that the major publishers are so greedy that they can justify charging even HALF what of what a hard cover book costs (and PLEASE stop buying hard cover books, my friend. You're only feeding a horribly broken system. Cheap ebooks = everyone is happy.)
- On that note, it occurs to me that I forgot to make sure my book ended up on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. I'm thinking that'll get remedied in June, if I'm reading my calendar correctly.
- I came across a stack of EW books that I still haven't sent out, because I forgot. I'll ship them next week. The recipients know who they are.
- EW2 is under way, though it's been halting steps, due to my utter lack of self control. That is being changed this afternoon.
- I am super-pumped for the return of EGM. Check out their really cool approach to the digital mag. I would be very interested in doing a comic this way, if any artists are interested in collaborating.
- I'm thinking more and more about being a writer in 'the digital age;' I think I may post more on the ideas I've been having.
- Speaking of which, aside from the pretty-good tutorials on the MSDN site, does anyone out there have any recommendations for good sources from to self-teach Visual C#?
- the one thing that makes me want an iPad is that it could eventually become a) the device that unifies my Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, & .pdf libraries (via apps), and b) becomes the premier e-comic & e-mag device. I don't like the price point, I don't like the dearth of storage it offers, I don't like the lack of Flash support, and I don't like the lack of video codec support. I want a 1TB model that can (GASP) handle Flash and (GASP) play back .mkv & .avi. I know that's madness to think a computing device could do that, but one can always dream.
What about you? How stringently do you schedule yourself? What do you think of the transition to digital media that is happening in the book/mag/comic world? What do you think if the iPad?
-Blaine
El Calendario
I'm now using Google Calendar to try to change all that.
What I've done is actually budgeted most of my days to follow a rather rigorous schedule. From my sleeping time to my commute times to my 'at work' time, I've scheduled all the obvious things, but I've also gone a step further and budgeted time for blogging, set a stringent homework schedule, and also made damn sure to set aside time for writing.
As it stands right now, I've filled up nearly all my daytime hours during the week, left the evenings somewhat flexible, and tried not to schedule anything on the weekends.
I've also regulated my eating in this new approach, in an effort to drop 120 pounds as soon as is healthy, and in that effort, I've budgeted exercise time each weekday morning.
The main problems I'm trying to address are: a) I want to be a sharper student in my final (haha) year of study and not push things until the zero hour, b) I need to drop 120 pounds, for all the usual reasons, c) I hardly sleep, and I think a lot of my problems go back to that, or maybe it's circular; whatever, d) I need to write a lot more, and e) I want to do so much more in my life than I am, and that requires that I stop fucking around all the time.
I'll try and keep all two or three of you updated on my progress in this regard.
In Other News
- I'm pretty sure Endless Wars is going to end up on the iBook store pretty soon. The publisher sent me an email about it, but as stated before, I'm a slacker, and have not followed up on it yet. One thing I'll be looking at closely is the money. I'm annoyed that the major publishers are so greedy that they can justify charging even HALF what of what a hard cover book costs (and PLEASE stop buying hard cover books, my friend. You're only feeding a horribly broken system. Cheap ebooks = everyone is happy.)
- On that note, it occurs to me that I forgot to make sure my book ended up on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. I'm thinking that'll get remedied in June, if I'm reading my calendar correctly.
- I came across a stack of EW books that I still haven't sent out, because I forgot. I'll ship them next week. The recipients know who they are.
- EW2 is under way, though it's been halting steps, due to my utter lack of self control. That is being changed this afternoon.
- I am super-pumped for the return of EGM. Check out their really cool approach to the digital mag. I would be very interested in doing a comic this way, if any artists are interested in collaborating.
- I'm thinking more and more about being a writer in 'the digital age;' I think I may post more on the ideas I've been having.
- Speaking of which, aside from the pretty-good tutorials on the MSDN site, does anyone out there have any recommendations for good sources from to self-teach Visual C#?
- the one thing that makes me want an iPad is that it could eventually become a) the device that unifies my Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, & .pdf libraries (via apps), and b) becomes the premier e-comic & e-mag device. I don't like the price point, I don't like the dearth of storage it offers, I don't like the lack of Flash support, and I don't like the lack of video codec support. I want a 1TB model that can (GASP) handle Flash and (GASP) play back .mkv & .avi. I know that's madness to think a computing device could do that, but one can always dream.
What about you? How stringently do you schedule yourself? What do you think of the transition to digital media that is happening in the book/mag/comic world? What do you think if the iPad?
-Blaine
20091019
Yo I Be Where I Be At
Yes, I'm a neglectful bloggist, I know, but I'm good at what I do, and I'm rather charming, which means I can get away with whatever I want.
Lemme lay it out for ya like this:
- I take classes, and I'm one of those students who works incredibly hard at determining what I can do to get away with having to do the same amount of work as the generic, average students, but get at least a B. This takes a lot of dedication and devotion to fucking around. I take my slacker-ness seriously.
- I work, and I rather enjoy what I do. Working in IT on a college campus seems like a tough, bitchy job if you haven't actually had a tough, bitchy job. I have had some fairly bad jobs (ripping the guts out of chickens), and I've had some very, very hard jobs (being a restaurant GM), so going to work in an IT department on a college campus is something that I actually enjoy, and in order to keep enjoying it, I actually, ya know, work. And read sports news on the internet.
- Uncharted fucking 2: Among Thieves. Thank the Maker, this is the best game I've played in a long, long time. I know that Cody's mental vagina has developed a severe allergy to cut-scenes, but this game epitomizes my belief that, in certain games, the cut scenes provide a wonderful breather, and act as a 'take a sip of your beer, grab a smoke, and relax for a minute' kinda moment. Cody, my dearest friend and fellow bloggist, I urge you to inject your brain with some Vagisil, and happily slurp down a PS3, loaded with wonderful cutscenes. Anyway, this game is the best of the adventure/platforming genre, and has a beautiful blend of puzzles, storytelling, rich characters, platforming, combat, gorgeous art, and my wife was even wanting to give kudos to whoever 'dresses the sets,' so to speak, because the environments are so detailed (and I don't mean polygons and textures, though those look nice, too.)
- I also journeyed out to Kingston, IL and Chicago over the weekend for a wedding and to visit the in-laws, so there.
- I spent quite a bit of time fighting with Windows 7, since I got my retail keys for several copies a couple weeks ago, through work/school. I've been trying to upgrade my gaming Deathbook from Vista Home Premium x64 to Windows 7 Pro x64, and it is not, officially, possible. I don't accept that, and I'm halfway through the process now. Of course, if I have to do a full reinstall, so be it, but I have that machine, and each game install, super-customized, and don't even get me started about my fucking iTunes library. If I have to reinstall, I'm looking at a month or two of tweaking to get everything back to where I want it. No thanks.
- Lastly, I've been working on getting more gaming going w/ Linux. One of the things I'd really like to do in life is bring a greater gaming presence to Linux. It would make gaming platforms FREE, which is a huge win, but would also open game development up to a greater number of people. Gaming + open source could be a great thing. I've now got Guild Wars & the Neverwinter Nights (plus all the expansions) running on my Ubuntu netbook, and they both run PERFECTLY. NWN actually runs without any emulation. It is actually running ON Linux, which is awesome. Now, if we can just get Steam to act as a means to run anything and everything on Linux...
Oh, and I guess I need to publish that third chapter of my book on here, as I had promised. I'll get it up here tomorrow.
What have you been up to?
-Blaine
Lemme lay it out for ya like this:
- I take classes, and I'm one of those students who works incredibly hard at determining what I can do to get away with having to do the same amount of work as the generic, average students, but get at least a B. This takes a lot of dedication and devotion to fucking around. I take my slacker-ness seriously.
- I work, and I rather enjoy what I do. Working in IT on a college campus seems like a tough, bitchy job if you haven't actually had a tough, bitchy job. I have had some fairly bad jobs (ripping the guts out of chickens), and I've had some very, very hard jobs (being a restaurant GM), so going to work in an IT department on a college campus is something that I actually enjoy, and in order to keep enjoying it, I actually, ya know, work. And read sports news on the internet.
- Uncharted fucking 2: Among Thieves. Thank the Maker, this is the best game I've played in a long, long time. I know that Cody's mental vagina has developed a severe allergy to cut-scenes, but this game epitomizes my belief that, in certain games, the cut scenes provide a wonderful breather, and act as a 'take a sip of your beer, grab a smoke, and relax for a minute' kinda moment. Cody, my dearest friend and fellow bloggist, I urge you to inject your brain with some Vagisil, and happily slurp down a PS3, loaded with wonderful cutscenes. Anyway, this game is the best of the adventure/platforming genre, and has a beautiful blend of puzzles, storytelling, rich characters, platforming, combat, gorgeous art, and my wife was even wanting to give kudos to whoever 'dresses the sets,' so to speak, because the environments are so detailed (and I don't mean polygons and textures, though those look nice, too.)
- I also journeyed out to Kingston, IL and Chicago over the weekend for a wedding and to visit the in-laws, so there.
- I spent quite a bit of time fighting with Windows 7, since I got my retail keys for several copies a couple weeks ago, through work/school. I've been trying to upgrade my gaming Deathbook from Vista Home Premium x64 to Windows 7 Pro x64, and it is not, officially, possible. I don't accept that, and I'm halfway through the process now. Of course, if I have to do a full reinstall, so be it, but I have that machine, and each game install, super-customized, and don't even get me started about my fucking iTunes library. If I have to reinstall, I'm looking at a month or two of tweaking to get everything back to where I want it. No thanks.
- Lastly, I've been working on getting more gaming going w/ Linux. One of the things I'd really like to do in life is bring a greater gaming presence to Linux. It would make gaming platforms FREE, which is a huge win, but would also open game development up to a greater number of people. Gaming + open source could be a great thing. I've now got Guild Wars & the Neverwinter Nights (plus all the expansions) running on my Ubuntu netbook, and they both run PERFECTLY. NWN actually runs without any emulation. It is actually running ON Linux, which is awesome. Now, if we can just get Steam to act as a means to run anything and everything on Linux...
Oh, and I guess I need to publish that third chapter of my book on here, as I had promised. I'll get it up here tomorrow.
What have you been up to?
-Blaine
20091007
The Endless Wars: The Descent (section 2)
Sorry about the late post. Been up to my eyeballs in Java code.
As I promised, I've been posting the first three sections of my book. Here's the second part, preceded by Laurance's sexy art.
Read section I here.
***begin section II***
II: The Knight and the Thug
Listening to his friend and roommate Milk Bone’s
pointless and sometimes idiotic babbling usually
cheered Taran up. This is why the two of them ended up
at a bar a couple of hours after Rosaline made her
exit. They looked very odd sitting together. Taran,
in all his plainness, with his short spiked hair, plain
white t-shirt and blue jeans, stood out in contrast to
Milk Bone, a short, wiry white guy wearing a backwards
blue road Cardinals hat, white wife-beater shirt,
sagging blue track pants, with broken teeth. He was
convinced he was a “gangsta,” as he put it.
They were sitting at one of the sidewalk tables
outside of their favorite bar, M.P. O’Reilly’s. It was
busy that night, and the two men were surrounded by
couples, either with their own table, or with other
couples. Taran tried his best not to notice this.
For November, it was pretty nice that night. A
little chilly, but tolerable. Taran was fine in his
Shell coat (from working there a few years prior,) and
Milk Bone slid on a Cardinals jersey, in addition to
all the fake jewelry in which he covered himself.
And, sure enough, Milk Bone was on a roll
tonight.
“So, I was like, ‘ight, bitch, you wanna do it
like that, that’s coo. I mean, shit, man, I ain’t
gonna have no bitch talk to me like that. Know what
I’m sayin’?”
As amusing as Milk Bone, or just “Bone”
sometimes, could be, when Taran was in as foul a mood
as he was now, he dreaded actual conversation.
“Sure, Bone, so what’d you do?”
“I was like, ‘Bitch! I am Milk Bone T! Ain’t no
woman gonna play Milk Bone! Fuck na!’ So, I grabbed
her by her nappy ass hair, flipped her around, started
fuckin’ the hell outta her, and she’s all like,” Bone
switched to his girly voice here, “‘Oh, Milk Bone!
Milk Bone! Fuck me, you big horny nigga!’ The bitch
was lovin’ it! But, that ain’t the fucked up part! Ya
ready for this shit?”
“Oh yeah, Bone. Hit me.” Taran snorted.
“So, I’m fuckin’ the hell outta her, right. And,
she starts panting like a dog. I’m like, ‘ight, that’s
kinda whacked out, but people do weird shit when
they’re fuckin’ sometimes, so I was like ‘okay.’ Then,
get this! The bitch starts fuckin’ barkin’, dude! The
bitch started fuckin’ barkin’!”
“No pun intended, right? ‘Bitch barking.’ Get
it?” Taran said, cracking a tiny smile, then realizing
that Milk Bone’s comprehension of this was nil.
Bone stared blankly before resuming his
narrative.
“I was like, ‘HELL NA!’ I saw that Snoop video
where he turns into a fuckin’ dog and shit! So, I’m
like ‘what if this bitch fuckin’ turns into a…bitch?!’
Fuck na, man! Fuck na! So, I fuckin’ kick her skank
ass outta my bed and I’m like ‘Bitch! Go back to your
damn dog house. See ya!’ Damn, nigga...”
“Ah, the epic tales of Milk Bone T. Did you ever
see her again?” Taran asked.
“No, man, but I did find some dog shit on the
front porch the next week, so-”
Taran held up a hand.
“I get it, I get it. Real quick, was wondering
if Rosaline had called the house phone recently? I
heard it ring a few times…just thought…” Taran trailed
off.
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
Milk Bone sat there, hesitating.
“Nah.” he nearly whispered.
Taran couldn’t decide if he was surprised.
“What?” he asked anyway.
“Um, no.” Bone answered again, just as hoarsely
“Okay.” Taran didn’t know what else to say. He
didn’t even know why he bothered caring.
Milk Bone’s eyes suddenly widened as he leaned
forward and attempted to shift the conversation.
“Why? You still want her? Look, man, come with
me to Cherokee Street and we’ll get you a nice cheap
ho. I know this one chick that me and my brother used
to get. Her name was ‘Queeffie Lou’ or some shit, and
anyway, she fuck pretty good. She’s real cheap, man.
I remember this one time-”
“That’s alright, Bone. Don’t worry about it. I
just wanted to know if Rosaline had called.”
“Okay.” Bone stopped and thought. “So…what the
fuck is you gonna do about her?”
Now, it was Taran’s turn to stop and think.
“I don’t know, man. I do know I don’t wanna be
with her. I just want to hurt her. And hurt her. And
hurt her. Etcetera and so on.”
Milk Bone stared at the base of his beer glass
and admired the way the wrought-iron table as he tried
to be invisible and just let Taran do his thing.
Taran continued, “I know you don’t understand.
That’s fine. I don’t care. Revenge. That’s all it’s
about. As soon as I’m done, I can move on.”
“So, when do you think you’ll be done?” Bone
asked.
Taran paused and thought again. “I don’t know.
Whenever I’m fuckin’ done, man.”
“I’m just sayin’, dude. Don’t pass up a fine
little honey just ‘cause you’re trying to fuck up your
ex.”
“We’ll see, man.” Taran said.
“So, what have you done so far?”
“What do you mean?”
“You want revenge on the bitch, right? So what
have you done to get revenge so far?” Bone asked.
“I don’t know, man. Nothing yet.”
“Why?” Bone asked.
“I just haven’t had any good opportunities yet.
As soon as I do, though…”
“Taran, all you gotta do is get a ride out to
West County and-“
“Drop it, man. It’s my problem. Don’t worry
about it.”
“Whatever you say, dawg.” Milk Bone said, leaning
back and grabbing his Old English 800.
Taran sighed, grabbed his pack of American
Spirits, pulled one out, lit it, and looked around.
Almost as soon as he turned his head, he locked eyes
with a young woman in a black cloak. She smiled at
him. He just stared back at her.
She had small, delicate features, and was almost
painfully petite. Little locks of short brown hair
spilled out from under her hood.
“Ya know her, dawg?” Milk Bone asked, leaning
over and looking at her.
“No. I don’t know. She looks very familiar,
but…I don’t think so.”
She looked away. Taran and Milk Bone followed
her gaze. A man, close to Taran’s age, sat down with
her, but he was dressed in a rather outdated fashion.
He wore a white, loose fitting blouse that was covered
with a leather vest. His hair was pulled back into a
ponytail and a thick, light brown beard covered his
face. It was as if he had just walked off a Gettysburg
reenactment.
“That blanket she’s wearing is kinda hot. It’s
all like ‘Dark Crystal’ and shit,” Milk Bone chuckled.
“It’s called a ‘cloak.’”
“Whatever. It’d look better balled up on my
floor while I fucked her.”
Taran shook his head. He looked back at the
woman. She was engaged in conversation with the oldfashioned
man next to her.
“I wonder who that guy is and why he’s dressed
like that. Must be an actor.” Taran pondered, turning
to Milk Bone.
“What guy?” Bone asked, looking around the young
woman.
“The guy sittin’ next to her, man.” Taran said,
surprised, and subtly pointed with his thumb.
Bone continued to stare at the girl, then shook
his head.
Taran rolled his eyes and drank his Bud Light.
Milk Bone shrugged.
“He is sitting right fucking next to her.” Taran
pointed.
Milk Bone looked at Taran, then cracked a
confused smile.
“Are you, like, messin’ with me, dude? Do you
really seriously see some dude over there, ‘cause
there’s nobody with her. That little girl is a-lone,
dawg.” Milk Bone said, looking directly at Taran.
Taran looked at the old-fashioned man. Something
was definitely odd about him. Not just his style of
dress, but something else. His skin was too white, but
there was more.
The man looked up at Taran and nodded, halfway
smiling.
“Hey, Bone, let’s go over and introduce
ourselves.” Taran suggested, standing up.
Bone grabbed his beer, tucked a cigarette behind
his ear, and jumped up.
The two men approached the young woman’s table.
She and her male companion looked up.
“Good evening,” she said to Taran, smiling at
him, “I’m Sasha.” she offered her hand at this, which
Taran graciously took.
“I’m Taran Walker. This is Milk Bone.” Taran
turned to the old-fashioned man, “What’s your name?”
The man smiled, leaned forward, and spoke.
“Can your friend see me?”
Taran looked at Milk Bone.
“Can you see this guy?” he asked, pointing at the
man.
Milk Bone shook his head, stared at the ground,
and mumbled to Taran.
“You’s gonna freak her out, dude. Don’t fuck up
my game, dawg. Knock off this invisible friend shit.”
Taran turned back to the man and shook his head.
The man began to speak again.
“I didn’t think so. He doesn’t strike me as one
of…the type, though it is hard to tell. I’m just
relieved that you’ve returned.”
Taran screwed his face up and looked at Sasha,
then back at the man.
“’Returned?’” he asked.
“Yes. Look, this is going to take some time to
explain. You’ve been drinking, and I’d rather wait
until you were sober. Can you meet Sasha and myself at
Coffee Cartel tomorrow at around six?” the man asked.
“Hang on. What’s your name and why can’t Milk
Bone see you?” Taran demanded.
“I think the more pressing question is-“
Sasha cut him off.
“Ghost, enough with this stoic crap. His name is
Richard Barrywood and your friend can’t see him because
he’s a ghost. The reason that you and I can is…well…
we’re different from Milk Bone. Look, Ghost here will
explain everything tomorrow.”
Milk Bone sat there, staring at the empty chair,
his eyes wide.
Taran turned to Ghost, annoyed.
“Guess what? I’m having sort of a bad day. I
had a bad breakup earlier, and have ZERO fucking
patience for more lies. And YOU,” Taran pointed at
Milk Bone, “I should kick the shit out of you for
agreeing with these people to play some kind of stupid
joke on me. I’m going home, and the next person who
tries to fuck with my head better be ready to defend
themselves. I’m out.”
Milk Bone stammered.
“Dude, I…I…I dunno shit about no ghosts, dude.
I’m goin’ witchoo.”
Sasha stood up.
“Taran, she wasn’t lying to you earlier. She
really loves you. She wasn’t sure of it, but now that
she’s lost you, she knows. She-“
“Sasha, stop it.” Ghost cut in.
Taran exploded at her, pointing a finger at her
as if it was a dagger.
“Don’t talk to me about Rosaline like you know
her! I swear to God, I don’t hit women, but I will
knock your fucking head off if you don’t-“
Milk Bone grabbed Taran and started dragging him
away. Taran struggled, trying to wrench himself free.
People at other tables watched the scene, whispering
between themselves.
Suddenly, Sasha stood up and interlocked her
fingers, then flicked each one, one by one, from thumb
to pinky on each hand. She turned them palm up, her
fingers still locked together, then muttered, “Peace,”
and raised her hands up to her mouth. A little ball of
light formed. She pressed her lips together and blew.
The ball leaped out of her hands and slipped into
Taran’s chest.
Bodies flew away from the scene as people
confusedly began to panic. A roar began to pass
through the bar.
A feeling of severe intoxication hit him. Not
quite intoxication, he decided, but rather, peaceful
exhaustion.
“What…the…ugh…” Taran mumbled. Milk Bone looked
confusedly at Sasha, who was preparing a discreet exit
with Ghost, then hoisted Taran up by his arm, walking
him home.
***end section II***
There ya go. Again, check out the book here, and please please please help me buy my own ISBN. If you're not looking to drop $15.42 on a book, you can always snag the ebook for $1.25. I make the same amount on each version, so it really doesn't matter to me which one you buy.
I'd write more, but I got class all day today, and next to no time.
Either way, thanks for reading, and I'll have the third section up by Friday!
GO CARDS!
Thanks!
-Blaine
As I promised, I've been posting the first three sections of my book. Here's the second part, preceded by Laurance's sexy art.
Read section I here.
***begin section II***
II: The Knight and the Thug
Listening to his friend and roommate Milk Bone’s
pointless and sometimes idiotic babbling usually
cheered Taran up. This is why the two of them ended up
at a bar a couple of hours after Rosaline made her
exit. They looked very odd sitting together. Taran,
in all his plainness, with his short spiked hair, plain
white t-shirt and blue jeans, stood out in contrast to
Milk Bone, a short, wiry white guy wearing a backwards
blue road Cardinals hat, white wife-beater shirt,
sagging blue track pants, with broken teeth. He was
convinced he was a “gangsta,” as he put it.
They were sitting at one of the sidewalk tables
outside of their favorite bar, M.P. O’Reilly’s. It was
busy that night, and the two men were surrounded by
couples, either with their own table, or with other
couples. Taran tried his best not to notice this.
For November, it was pretty nice that night. A
little chilly, but tolerable. Taran was fine in his
Shell coat (from working there a few years prior,) and
Milk Bone slid on a Cardinals jersey, in addition to
all the fake jewelry in which he covered himself.
And, sure enough, Milk Bone was on a roll
tonight.
“So, I was like, ‘ight, bitch, you wanna do it
like that, that’s coo. I mean, shit, man, I ain’t
gonna have no bitch talk to me like that. Know what
I’m sayin’?”
As amusing as Milk Bone, or just “Bone”
sometimes, could be, when Taran was in as foul a mood
as he was now, he dreaded actual conversation.
“Sure, Bone, so what’d you do?”
“I was like, ‘Bitch! I am Milk Bone T! Ain’t no
woman gonna play Milk Bone! Fuck na!’ So, I grabbed
her by her nappy ass hair, flipped her around, started
fuckin’ the hell outta her, and she’s all like,” Bone
switched to his girly voice here, “‘Oh, Milk Bone!
Milk Bone! Fuck me, you big horny nigga!’ The bitch
was lovin’ it! But, that ain’t the fucked up part! Ya
ready for this shit?”
“Oh yeah, Bone. Hit me.” Taran snorted.
“So, I’m fuckin’ the hell outta her, right. And,
she starts panting like a dog. I’m like, ‘ight, that’s
kinda whacked out, but people do weird shit when
they’re fuckin’ sometimes, so I was like ‘okay.’ Then,
get this! The bitch starts fuckin’ barkin’, dude! The
bitch started fuckin’ barkin’!”
“No pun intended, right? ‘Bitch barking.’ Get
it?” Taran said, cracking a tiny smile, then realizing
that Milk Bone’s comprehension of this was nil.
Bone stared blankly before resuming his
narrative.
“I was like, ‘HELL NA!’ I saw that Snoop video
where he turns into a fuckin’ dog and shit! So, I’m
like ‘what if this bitch fuckin’ turns into a…bitch?!’
Fuck na, man! Fuck na! So, I fuckin’ kick her skank
ass outta my bed and I’m like ‘Bitch! Go back to your
damn dog house. See ya!’ Damn, nigga...”
“Ah, the epic tales of Milk Bone T. Did you ever
see her again?” Taran asked.
“No, man, but I did find some dog shit on the
front porch the next week, so-”
Taran held up a hand.
“I get it, I get it. Real quick, was wondering
if Rosaline had called the house phone recently? I
heard it ring a few times…just thought…” Taran trailed
off.
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
Milk Bone sat there, hesitating.
“Nah.” he nearly whispered.
Taran couldn’t decide if he was surprised.
“What?” he asked anyway.
“Um, no.” Bone answered again, just as hoarsely
“Okay.” Taran didn’t know what else to say. He
didn’t even know why he bothered caring.
Milk Bone’s eyes suddenly widened as he leaned
forward and attempted to shift the conversation.
“Why? You still want her? Look, man, come with
me to Cherokee Street and we’ll get you a nice cheap
ho. I know this one chick that me and my brother used
to get. Her name was ‘Queeffie Lou’ or some shit, and
anyway, she fuck pretty good. She’s real cheap, man.
I remember this one time-”
“That’s alright, Bone. Don’t worry about it. I
just wanted to know if Rosaline had called.”
“Okay.” Bone stopped and thought. “So…what the
fuck is you gonna do about her?”
Now, it was Taran’s turn to stop and think.
“I don’t know, man. I do know I don’t wanna be
with her. I just want to hurt her. And hurt her. And
hurt her. Etcetera and so on.”
Milk Bone stared at the base of his beer glass
and admired the way the wrought-iron table as he tried
to be invisible and just let Taran do his thing.
Taran continued, “I know you don’t understand.
That’s fine. I don’t care. Revenge. That’s all it’s
about. As soon as I’m done, I can move on.”
“So, when do you think you’ll be done?” Bone
asked.
Taran paused and thought again. “I don’t know.
Whenever I’m fuckin’ done, man.”
“I’m just sayin’, dude. Don’t pass up a fine
little honey just ‘cause you’re trying to fuck up your
ex.”
“We’ll see, man.” Taran said.
“So, what have you done so far?”
“What do you mean?”
“You want revenge on the bitch, right? So what
have you done to get revenge so far?” Bone asked.
“I don’t know, man. Nothing yet.”
“Why?” Bone asked.
“I just haven’t had any good opportunities yet.
As soon as I do, though…”
“Taran, all you gotta do is get a ride out to
West County and-“
“Drop it, man. It’s my problem. Don’t worry
about it.”
“Whatever you say, dawg.” Milk Bone said, leaning
back and grabbing his Old English 800.
Taran sighed, grabbed his pack of American
Spirits, pulled one out, lit it, and looked around.
Almost as soon as he turned his head, he locked eyes
with a young woman in a black cloak. She smiled at
him. He just stared back at her.
She had small, delicate features, and was almost
painfully petite. Little locks of short brown hair
spilled out from under her hood.
“Ya know her, dawg?” Milk Bone asked, leaning
over and looking at her.
“No. I don’t know. She looks very familiar,
but…I don’t think so.”
She looked away. Taran and Milk Bone followed
her gaze. A man, close to Taran’s age, sat down with
her, but he was dressed in a rather outdated fashion.
He wore a white, loose fitting blouse that was covered
with a leather vest. His hair was pulled back into a
ponytail and a thick, light brown beard covered his
face. It was as if he had just walked off a Gettysburg
reenactment.
“That blanket she’s wearing is kinda hot. It’s
all like ‘Dark Crystal’ and shit,” Milk Bone chuckled.
“It’s called a ‘cloak.’”
“Whatever. It’d look better balled up on my
floor while I fucked her.”
Taran shook his head. He looked back at the
woman. She was engaged in conversation with the oldfashioned
man next to her.
“I wonder who that guy is and why he’s dressed
like that. Must be an actor.” Taran pondered, turning
to Milk Bone.
“What guy?” Bone asked, looking around the young
woman.
“The guy sittin’ next to her, man.” Taran said,
surprised, and subtly pointed with his thumb.
Bone continued to stare at the girl, then shook
his head.
Taran rolled his eyes and drank his Bud Light.
Milk Bone shrugged.
“He is sitting right fucking next to her.” Taran
pointed.
Milk Bone looked at Taran, then cracked a
confused smile.
“Are you, like, messin’ with me, dude? Do you
really seriously see some dude over there, ‘cause
there’s nobody with her. That little girl is a-lone,
dawg.” Milk Bone said, looking directly at Taran.
Taran looked at the old-fashioned man. Something
was definitely odd about him. Not just his style of
dress, but something else. His skin was too white, but
there was more.
The man looked up at Taran and nodded, halfway
smiling.
“Hey, Bone, let’s go over and introduce
ourselves.” Taran suggested, standing up.
Bone grabbed his beer, tucked a cigarette behind
his ear, and jumped up.
The two men approached the young woman’s table.
She and her male companion looked up.
“Good evening,” she said to Taran, smiling at
him, “I’m Sasha.” she offered her hand at this, which
Taran graciously took.
“I’m Taran Walker. This is Milk Bone.” Taran
turned to the old-fashioned man, “What’s your name?”
The man smiled, leaned forward, and spoke.
“Can your friend see me?”
Taran looked at Milk Bone.
“Can you see this guy?” he asked, pointing at the
man.
Milk Bone shook his head, stared at the ground,
and mumbled to Taran.
“You’s gonna freak her out, dude. Don’t fuck up
my game, dawg. Knock off this invisible friend shit.”
Taran turned back to the man and shook his head.
The man began to speak again.
“I didn’t think so. He doesn’t strike me as one
of…the type, though it is hard to tell. I’m just
relieved that you’ve returned.”
Taran screwed his face up and looked at Sasha,
then back at the man.
“’Returned?’” he asked.
“Yes. Look, this is going to take some time to
explain. You’ve been drinking, and I’d rather wait
until you were sober. Can you meet Sasha and myself at
Coffee Cartel tomorrow at around six?” the man asked.
“Hang on. What’s your name and why can’t Milk
Bone see you?” Taran demanded.
“I think the more pressing question is-“
Sasha cut him off.
“Ghost, enough with this stoic crap. His name is
Richard Barrywood and your friend can’t see him because
he’s a ghost. The reason that you and I can is…well…
we’re different from Milk Bone. Look, Ghost here will
explain everything tomorrow.”
Milk Bone sat there, staring at the empty chair,
his eyes wide.
Taran turned to Ghost, annoyed.
“Guess what? I’m having sort of a bad day. I
had a bad breakup earlier, and have ZERO fucking
patience for more lies. And YOU,” Taran pointed at
Milk Bone, “I should kick the shit out of you for
agreeing with these people to play some kind of stupid
joke on me. I’m going home, and the next person who
tries to fuck with my head better be ready to defend
themselves. I’m out.”
Milk Bone stammered.
“Dude, I…I…I dunno shit about no ghosts, dude.
I’m goin’ witchoo.”
Sasha stood up.
“Taran, she wasn’t lying to you earlier. She
really loves you. She wasn’t sure of it, but now that
she’s lost you, she knows. She-“
“Sasha, stop it.” Ghost cut in.
Taran exploded at her, pointing a finger at her
as if it was a dagger.
“Don’t talk to me about Rosaline like you know
her! I swear to God, I don’t hit women, but I will
knock your fucking head off if you don’t-“
Milk Bone grabbed Taran and started dragging him
away. Taran struggled, trying to wrench himself free.
People at other tables watched the scene, whispering
between themselves.
Suddenly, Sasha stood up and interlocked her
fingers, then flicked each one, one by one, from thumb
to pinky on each hand. She turned them palm up, her
fingers still locked together, then muttered, “Peace,”
and raised her hands up to her mouth. A little ball of
light formed. She pressed her lips together and blew.
The ball leaped out of her hands and slipped into
Taran’s chest.
Bodies flew away from the scene as people
confusedly began to panic. A roar began to pass
through the bar.
A feeling of severe intoxication hit him. Not
quite intoxication, he decided, but rather, peaceful
exhaustion.
“What…the…ugh…” Taran mumbled. Milk Bone looked
confusedly at Sasha, who was preparing a discreet exit
with Ghost, then hoisted Taran up by his arm, walking
him home.
***end section II***
There ya go. Again, check out the book here, and please please please help me buy my own ISBN. If you're not looking to drop $15.42 on a book, you can always snag the ebook for $1.25. I make the same amount on each version, so it really doesn't matter to me which one you buy.
I'd write more, but I got class all day today, and next to no time.
Either way, thanks for reading, and I'll have the third section up by Friday!
GO CARDS!
Thanks!
-Blaine
20091005
This is Monday
First, we're deviating a bit from my appointed scheme to do something a little different this week. I'm slowly ramping up the pace at which I'm working on the second novel in the Endless Wars series, as I'm starting to really get a better feel for how rough and raw this book is going to be, and I'm getting a creative boner for it. Like massively. Hawt,
Anyway, I'm actually going to post the first three major sections of the original on here this week, so that you all can be bribed with a free taste into buying a book. I tried to write the story I'd always wanted to read, and I'd like to share it with as many people as possible, and try to see if I can do this for a living some day.
Untitled Podcast
Before we get to that, though, there is the matter of the podcast. Tony and I sat down together and yammered incessantly about games we don't own for nearly three hours. And some people like that. Fascinating.
We do appreciate that, so here is the podcast page. Please enjoy, and we'll be returning to the mics in a little less than three months.
Regular Programming
I'll be getting back to the regular posts in a week or two. I'm going to focus on Endless Wars for a week or two, not only to try and properly convey what it is to those who haven't grabbed it already, but to get myself in the right mindset while I work on the next book in the series.
Also, for anyone who's read it, lemme know if ya have any questions about it. I'd love to talk with existing readers and see what they thought, as well as answer any questions they might have.
Big Thanks
Just wanted to give a public 'thanks' to both Laurance and Cody, who are both great artists, allies, and friends. Cody did a lot of the art for the Untitled Podcast in the past. He also writes rather well about games, and has one of the last good gaming blogs out there.
Laurance, and his company, Physical City, did a gorgeous fucking banner for my book, and all the free prostitutes in the world wouldn't be a big enough 'thank you' to him. Whether it's a banner, a graphic for a page, a book cover, a billboard, a buttocks tattoo, a comic book, whatever, make goddam sure you chat w/ the dudes over at Physical City for any and all art needs. No shit. Do it. Now.
The Endless Wars: The Descent (section 1)
Here we go, and please note the nice-ass banner made up by the above-mentioned Physical City.
begin section one of the Endless Wars: the Descent
I: Curtain
November, 2001
Dark, ominous clouds. Lightning. A flood of
rain pouring down. Decaying, long dead buildings.
Streets that look like they haven’t been repaved since
the rule of Louis XVI. A cop substation in the
distance. More rain.
That was the landscape that was sucked into
Taran’s eyes. His view shifted around, as if he was
desperately trying to find something not dying, not
gray, at which to stare. He could feel the
lifelessness infecting him.
Taran Walker was twenty three years young, and
possessed the body of a man. His height and build were
just about average (roughly 5’8, with a fair amount of
muscle.) His dark brown hair and brown eyes added to
his almost average appearance. His face was adorned
with a beard that circled his mouth, and his eyes
contained a coldness that looked very heavy.
His room was covered in dirty laundry, various
magazines and books, boxes of CDs and other belongings,
empty beer bottles and cigarette packs everywhere. A
bare mattress was in the corner, with an ashtray and a
digital alarm clock next to it. The walls had probably
once been white, but those days were long since gone.
Of course he loved her. Of course he did. Not
“in love,” mind you. But he did love her. How could
he not? An inch shorter than him, red hair, green
eyes, tiny waist, perfect curvy body, and that weird
Jedi Mind control over guys. She was one of those
girls that was great at convincing you that you needed
her above all else, and by the time you realized that
you didn’t, you had already wrecked your life so badly
that your best strategy was to cower in her shadow
until you thought of some really clever escape plan.
Rosaline was really something.
But, Taran had learned. About four months prior,
she had cheated on him and dumped him for a military
school cadet three years his junior. After four years
of something that almost reminded him of perfection.
So, there she stood. Fighting and pleading to be
taken back.
“I’m done with you.” Taran said, surprisingly
calmly, though he let out several ragged breaths after-
wards
“I can’t fucking believe you. It’s really
interesting, really, really interesting, Taran, how
this ‘honor’ that you always talk about comes and goes
whenever it’s convenient for you! Isn’t ‘forgiveness’
included in your little ‘code of conduct?’” she paused,
inhaled a sniffle, “Taran, listen to me. Please. I’m
standing here telling you that I love you.”
Taran’s mind raced, trying to decipher her tactic.
He had known her for a long time, and knew
that every single word that left her beautiful, pale
lips was part of a larger strategy. She never did or
said anything unless she was going to gain something
from it. He had been brilliantly manipulated by her
over the last year, and was done with it. Just done
with it.
First, it had been the gaps in her schedule.
Hours of time that were missing in her life that she
would claim had been used for napping, which she never
did, or extra homework, which was also unusual. She
always plowed through her homework in a very short
time, a testament to her intelligence. Sometimes, she
would even manufacture reasons to explode at him, so as
to avoid him for the hours it took to be with her
lover.
Then, Taran had caught them.
Rosaline arched her back and touched her breasts
in a way she NEVER did with Taran...she bounced up and
down on him [GRINGO] in a way she never had with
Taran...her gasps and [FAKED] orgasms sounded much more
violent, more felt, more appreciated than they ever had
with Taran...Taran moved away from the doorway...wished
he had been noticed by them...
She had claimed that not only was Taran losing
“it,” but so was their relationship. She had said that
things hadn’t been the same since...
She saw Taran lying bloody on his couch, shards
of glass embedded in his face...white powder caked
under his nose...she knew he was supposed to be dead...
He figured that she, being only 19, had gotten
bored and curious. He had been warned that she had
been too young when they started dating, and here he
stood, the biggest goddam fool in the world.
He continued to stare out the window and absorb
the rather depressing landscape. He took another drag
off his cigarette, exhaled, and turned to face her. He
hated this moment. The moment after you’ve been facing
away from a lover or an ex you’ve been fighting with
and then, suddenly you turn, look at them, and remember
why you were facing away. They’re the most beautiful
individual in the world.
He very calmly approached her. He caressed her
cheek with his hand and smiled at her.
“I will always love you, I’m sure. I just don’t
ever want to see you again,” he whispered, his smile
trembling, “and please, just let me go. Please. I
can’t-“
“Taran, I left you for Johnny Gringo. Another
guy. You are not the first person this has happened
to. You’re acting like this is some horrible new
problem in the world. It happens all the fucking
time.”
He pulled away from her, his unstable smile
dissolving into a sigh. His eyes rolled as he threw
his hands up in the air.
“Ya know, Roz, there was a time when I thought
you might actually be capable of feeling guilty for
something, or actually really, truly loving someone. I
suspected you were incapable of having a shred of
humanity a year ago, and now, I’m sure of it.”
Rosaline looked away from him, her green eyes
flicking all over the place. She bit her lip and
nodded her head.
“Taran,” she began, her voice quieter and
sweeter, “Can we just...start over, or something.
Please? I-“
“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” Taran exploded,
slapping a beer bottle off of his window sill and into
a wall. Rosaline jumped away from the glass shards
that sprayed out.
“Calm down!” she yelled, pointing a long,
perfectly sculpted finger at him. The red nail shined
from the light of the street lamp outside.
“Then stop! It’s like you can’t decide if you
want me back so that you can torture me some more or
because you actually do love me. Just leave! Go!”
“Taran, stop it. Look, let’s calm down and just
talk, okay? No more yelling, okay? Let’s just relax
and talk this out.” Rosaline offered, almost speaking
in a whisper.
“No.” Taran grunted through gritted teeth. He
turned and stared at the dying night through his window
again.
Rosaline’s voice cracked as she spoke.
“Don’t you understand? I made a mistake. If I
wounded you, I-“
Taran whirled to face her, smashing his cigarette
into the ashtray as he turned.
“Some wounds heal and some wounds scar. Do you
know what it means to be wounded? Do you know what
it’s like when that wound comes from someone you love?
When that wound is accidentally inflicted, that is
easily forgivable. When that wound is intentional, it
is not. When it is intentional and repeatedly fucking
inflicted, it goes into a realm beyond hatred and
sadness. I believe the term ‘inhuman’ was fashioned
for just this kind of act. You have never loved me and
are incapable of doing so. Leave now.”
He turned back to the window. Tears dripped off
of his rough cheeks and into the ashtray, extinguishing
the burning remains of the cigarette.
Rosaline stared at him for a few moments, then
finally spoke in a choked voice.
“What happened to you? You used to be...”
Still staring out the window, never turning to
look at her, Taran responded.
“Never mind what I used to be. It’s no concern
of yours any longer. You will never have to worry
about it again. I’ve relieved you of that. Good bye.”
All Rosaline could do was stare. Or, at least
attempt to. The tears were flowing so heavily she had
to repeatedly blink. He was gone for good this time.
Forever. And, yet, there he was. Standing maybe a
foot away. He was right in front of her! She could
reach out to touch him. One last time. Her last
memory of him could be the feeling of their skin
touching.
However, she was convinced this would not be
their last shared memory.
She bent down, picked up her purse, walked out of
the room, and began to head down the stairs.
For whatever reason, he didn’t feel that great
sense of victory he had expected.
Taran stared out of his window, his hands clasped
behind his back, and watched her exit the building and
run to her car. Rosaline was gone.
The dying city lay before him, waiting.
Anyway, I'm actually going to post the first three major sections of the original on here this week, so that you all can be bribed with a free taste into buying a book. I tried to write the story I'd always wanted to read, and I'd like to share it with as many people as possible, and try to see if I can do this for a living some day.
Untitled Podcast
Before we get to that, though, there is the matter of the podcast. Tony and I sat down together and yammered incessantly about games we don't own for nearly three hours. And some people like that. Fascinating.
We do appreciate that, so here is the podcast page. Please enjoy, and we'll be returning to the mics in a little less than three months.
Regular Programming
I'll be getting back to the regular posts in a week or two. I'm going to focus on Endless Wars for a week or two, not only to try and properly convey what it is to those who haven't grabbed it already, but to get myself in the right mindset while I work on the next book in the series.
Also, for anyone who's read it, lemme know if ya have any questions about it. I'd love to talk with existing readers and see what they thought, as well as answer any questions they might have.
Big Thanks
Just wanted to give a public 'thanks' to both Laurance and Cody, who are both great artists, allies, and friends. Cody did a lot of the art for the Untitled Podcast in the past. He also writes rather well about games, and has one of the last good gaming blogs out there.
Laurance, and his company, Physical City, did a gorgeous fucking banner for my book, and all the free prostitutes in the world wouldn't be a big enough 'thank you' to him. Whether it's a banner, a graphic for a page, a book cover, a billboard, a buttocks tattoo, a comic book, whatever, make goddam sure you chat w/ the dudes over at Physical City for any and all art needs. No shit. Do it. Now.
The Endless Wars: The Descent (section 1)
Here we go, and please note the nice-ass banner made up by the above-mentioned Physical City.
begin section one of the Endless Wars: the Descent
I: Curtain
November, 2001
Dark, ominous clouds. Lightning. A flood of
rain pouring down. Decaying, long dead buildings.
Streets that look like they haven’t been repaved since
the rule of Louis XVI. A cop substation in the
distance. More rain.
That was the landscape that was sucked into
Taran’s eyes. His view shifted around, as if he was
desperately trying to find something not dying, not
gray, at which to stare. He could feel the
lifelessness infecting him.
Taran Walker was twenty three years young, and
possessed the body of a man. His height and build were
just about average (roughly 5’8, with a fair amount of
muscle.) His dark brown hair and brown eyes added to
his almost average appearance. His face was adorned
with a beard that circled his mouth, and his eyes
contained a coldness that looked very heavy.
His room was covered in dirty laundry, various
magazines and books, boxes of CDs and other belongings,
empty beer bottles and cigarette packs everywhere. A
bare mattress was in the corner, with an ashtray and a
digital alarm clock next to it. The walls had probably
once been white, but those days were long since gone.
Of course he loved her. Of course he did. Not
“in love,” mind you. But he did love her. How could
he not? An inch shorter than him, red hair, green
eyes, tiny waist, perfect curvy body, and that weird
Jedi Mind control over guys. She was one of those
girls that was great at convincing you that you needed
her above all else, and by the time you realized that
you didn’t, you had already wrecked your life so badly
that your best strategy was to cower in her shadow
until you thought of some really clever escape plan.
Rosaline was really something.
But, Taran had learned. About four months prior,
she had cheated on him and dumped him for a military
school cadet three years his junior. After four years
of something that almost reminded him of perfection.
So, there she stood. Fighting and pleading to be
taken back.
“I’m done with you.” Taran said, surprisingly
calmly, though he let out several ragged breaths after-
wards
“I can’t fucking believe you. It’s really
interesting, really, really interesting, Taran, how
this ‘honor’ that you always talk about comes and goes
whenever it’s convenient for you! Isn’t ‘forgiveness’
included in your little ‘code of conduct?’” she paused,
inhaled a sniffle, “Taran, listen to me. Please. I’m
standing here telling you that I love you.”
Taran’s mind raced, trying to decipher her tactic.
He had known her for a long time, and knew
that every single word that left her beautiful, pale
lips was part of a larger strategy. She never did or
said anything unless she was going to gain something
from it. He had been brilliantly manipulated by her
over the last year, and was done with it. Just done
with it.
First, it had been the gaps in her schedule.
Hours of time that were missing in her life that she
would claim had been used for napping, which she never
did, or extra homework, which was also unusual. She
always plowed through her homework in a very short
time, a testament to her intelligence. Sometimes, she
would even manufacture reasons to explode at him, so as
to avoid him for the hours it took to be with her
lover.
Then, Taran had caught them.
Rosaline arched her back and touched her breasts
in a way she NEVER did with Taran...she bounced up and
down on him [GRINGO] in a way she never had with
Taran...her gasps and [FAKED] orgasms sounded much more
violent, more felt, more appreciated than they ever had
with Taran...Taran moved away from the doorway...wished
he had been noticed by them...
She had claimed that not only was Taran losing
“it,” but so was their relationship. She had said that
things hadn’t been the same since...
She saw Taran lying bloody on his couch, shards
of glass embedded in his face...white powder caked
under his nose...she knew he was supposed to be dead...
He figured that she, being only 19, had gotten
bored and curious. He had been warned that she had
been too young when they started dating, and here he
stood, the biggest goddam fool in the world.
He continued to stare out the window and absorb
the rather depressing landscape. He took another drag
off his cigarette, exhaled, and turned to face her. He
hated this moment. The moment after you’ve been facing
away from a lover or an ex you’ve been fighting with
and then, suddenly you turn, look at them, and remember
why you were facing away. They’re the most beautiful
individual in the world.
He very calmly approached her. He caressed her
cheek with his hand and smiled at her.
“I will always love you, I’m sure. I just don’t
ever want to see you again,” he whispered, his smile
trembling, “and please, just let me go. Please. I
can’t-“
“Taran, I left you for Johnny Gringo. Another
guy. You are not the first person this has happened
to. You’re acting like this is some horrible new
problem in the world. It happens all the fucking
time.”
He pulled away from her, his unstable smile
dissolving into a sigh. His eyes rolled as he threw
his hands up in the air.
“Ya know, Roz, there was a time when I thought
you might actually be capable of feeling guilty for
something, or actually really, truly loving someone. I
suspected you were incapable of having a shred of
humanity a year ago, and now, I’m sure of it.”
Rosaline looked away from him, her green eyes
flicking all over the place. She bit her lip and
nodded her head.
“Taran,” she began, her voice quieter and
sweeter, “Can we just...start over, or something.
Please? I-“
“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” Taran exploded,
slapping a beer bottle off of his window sill and into
a wall. Rosaline jumped away from the glass shards
that sprayed out.
“Calm down!” she yelled, pointing a long,
perfectly sculpted finger at him. The red nail shined
from the light of the street lamp outside.
“Then stop! It’s like you can’t decide if you
want me back so that you can torture me some more or
because you actually do love me. Just leave! Go!”
“Taran, stop it. Look, let’s calm down and just
talk, okay? No more yelling, okay? Let’s just relax
and talk this out.” Rosaline offered, almost speaking
in a whisper.
“No.” Taran grunted through gritted teeth. He
turned and stared at the dying night through his window
again.
Rosaline’s voice cracked as she spoke.
“Don’t you understand? I made a mistake. If I
wounded you, I-“
Taran whirled to face her, smashing his cigarette
into the ashtray as he turned.
“Some wounds heal and some wounds scar. Do you
know what it means to be wounded? Do you know what
it’s like when that wound comes from someone you love?
When that wound is accidentally inflicted, that is
easily forgivable. When that wound is intentional, it
is not. When it is intentional and repeatedly fucking
inflicted, it goes into a realm beyond hatred and
sadness. I believe the term ‘inhuman’ was fashioned
for just this kind of act. You have never loved me and
are incapable of doing so. Leave now.”
He turned back to the window. Tears dripped off
of his rough cheeks and into the ashtray, extinguishing
the burning remains of the cigarette.
Rosaline stared at him for a few moments, then
finally spoke in a choked voice.
“What happened to you? You used to be...”
Still staring out the window, never turning to
look at her, Taran responded.
“Never mind what I used to be. It’s no concern
of yours any longer. You will never have to worry
about it again. I’ve relieved you of that. Good bye.”
All Rosaline could do was stare. Or, at least
attempt to. The tears were flowing so heavily she had
to repeatedly blink. He was gone for good this time.
Forever. And, yet, there he was. Standing maybe a
foot away. He was right in front of her! She could
reach out to touch him. One last time. Her last
memory of him could be the feeling of their skin
touching.
However, she was convinced this would not be
their last shared memory.
She bent down, picked up her purse, walked out of
the room, and began to head down the stairs.
For whatever reason, he didn’t feel that great
sense of victory he had expected.
Taran stared out of his window, his hands clasped
behind his back, and watched her exit the building and
run to her car. Rosaline was gone.
The dying city lay before him, waiting.
end of the first section of the Endless Wars: the Descent
So, that's the first part of the book. I'll post more of it tomorrow, and the following day, and then we'll see what we do with the rest of the week. I'll also answer some of last week's 'Writing Wednesday' questions.
Now, when it comes to buying the actual book, there are two options:
The choice is yours, and I make the same $1 off of it either way, so please just buy the version that makes it easier for you to read it!
The long-term goal is make enough to buy my own ISBN, so any help you can contribute is very, very appreciated.
See ya tomorrow.
-Blaine
20090923
Writing Wednesday #2: Continuing the Story
The only thing harder than starting something new is finishing it. Whether it be playing a Japanese RPG, reading one of my books, bringing a woman to orgasm, or writing your own fiction, it can be tremendously hard to finish something you started.
Have no fear, though. I can at least help you with the writing bit. And I do know my way around a few JRPGs.
So, you've got a solid idea, you have some idea about the execution, you've gotten a bit of it hammered out, and now it's the next day. Or the next week. Maybe even a year later, and you kinda beat yourself up over letting that once-grand story just sit and fester. Sometimes you load it up, stare at it, maybe add a sentence or so, then shut it down in frustration.
That's totally normal. I honestly believe that this is the fate of most stories.
When I was initially writing the first Endless Wars book, I had more than a few moments like that. Sometimes, I was able to get past it by simply leaning back, sucking down a drink, and puffing down a smoke. It was a matter of just getting into the right head space.
That was sometimes. More often that not, though, that didn't put me into the right mental space.
I'm a firm believer in warming up. Whether it be athletics, programming, mathematics, sex, or writing, I need to get the engines revved first.
With writing, I like to go back to everything I wrote in the previous session, and start really editing it. By doing that, I find that my mind starts to re-shape itself into what it needs to be for that story. Every story has its own distinct personality, and it's important to get back in touch with that before banging out new ideas. Now, if you're writing on it every day, this may be less needed, but if you're coming back to something for the first time in a while, it's almost required, just so you know what the hell is going on in your story, if nothing else.
Even when I'm writing on something every day, I find that this helps me not only get my mind right, but it also allows me to take a more critical eye to the previous day's work, since I'm not totally into that space yet. You want as many different perspectives on your own work as possible, and since I generally don't share works in progress with others, this lets me act as my own on-the-fly editor, at least until I'm done.
If you're a persistent drunk, this is almost necessary, since a) you may or may not remember the actual events that transpired in your story the night before, and b) you may also have some rather egregious issues in your spelling and grammar.
Oh, and you know how some things seem like a great idea when you're drunk (climbing on your roof, knife-throwing contests, eating White Castle, sharing your true feelings with your boss via email, waking your wife up for drunk sex @ 6AM, etc.), but make you want to move to a remote part of the Yukon the next day? Well, the same applies to your book, so you may want to take a peek at how melodramatic and annoying you made your main character the night before.
Back to general editing, though, what I like most about this is that not only do I get pulled back into my book this way, but I get excited about banging out new material, so that when I'm done editing the last session, I hit the ground running, and I'm fired up about my new ideas.
Additionally, if I think about the current project while I'm in the shower, just after waking, I find that a lot of good ideas come to me then. Sometimes, I'll write them down, or I'll just salivate over them the rest of the day, and find myself chomping at the bit to get moving on the book again.
Another important key is building a process, especially if you're not the most practiced writer. Find a space in which you like to write, as well as the right music, and maybe even time of day. Sometimes there's a particular daily activity that, if you follow it immediately with writing, you churn out good work.
When I wrote the bulk of my book, I used to do it immediately after work, at around 3 or 4 in the afternoon (I would get up at the ass-crack of dawn to rip the guts out of chicken and then marinate them by the the hundreds all day), with music on and a movie on. I needed as much chaos as possible at that time. I would usually drink and chain-smoke, too. I would do that for about an hour or two each day. I cranked out the majority of my book doing that.
Now, if you start to really get somewhere as a writer, don't become a slave to your process. I know that this flies in the face of what most other writers will tell you, but they're cowardly pussies who like to make excuses for the lack of challenge they give themselves. Own your process and writing talent, and make them both work for you.
Additionally, when I was still in a band, most of my great song ideas would come to me while I was driving. It was a bit annoying, since guitar riffs are hard to preserve in your head for as long as I needed them to, sometimes. I think some of my best songs came from cruising the dirty city streets in my 1991 Pontiac Transport minivan back when I was a teenager. Make note of when your best ideas come to you, and what you're doing at those moments.
Nowadays, my biggest hurdle is just time. I'm actually trying to build a more consistent day-to-day schedule, so that I can get way too many things done. I'll admit that I don't crank on the fiction like I used to, but that's changing. The second Endless Wars book has a very solid beginning, and my G-doc project is still rattling in my brain, daring me to fail.
Really, time is a bitch, and is probably the greatest enemy of any unaccomplished writer. I know that I certainly don't have the time I'd like for my fiction, especially when I'm cranking out blogs like this, but it'll come. I know what I had to do to write that first book, I'm applying lessons learned from that to the second book, but I'm also learning what unique demands this book is making.
The bottom line, though, for any serious writer is the following: a page a day. Period. Even if it's crap. A page a day will get you to the point where your biggest worry is finding an agent and having a finished novel that you want to publish.
So, to recap:
- start out by editing the previous session's work; get yourself a running start into the new material; you will also see things that need to be addressed NOW, which is a bonus
- develop a process; discover the right location, music, habits, lighting, time of day, etc. that help you succeed as a writer
- A page a day. Seriously. A page a day. Do it. A page a day.
In Other News
- don't forget that Tony and I are returning to the mics these next two weekends, to record two new episodes of Untitled Podcast: Collector's Edition. We'll be rapping about Tokyo Game Show this weekend and doing a full-on Holiday Preview the following weekend. Have any games you just gotta hear about? Drop 'em here!
- Any current events you wanna hear about tomorrow? It'll be Thopical Thursday (a terrible attempt at a pun, I know, but just play along), so I'll be grabbing some poor, defenseless recent topic and beating the shit out of it. I'm thinking about addressing people's obsession with weird, unimportant shit like Kanye (the brand of a product) interrupting another brand's product placement award, to express dissatisfaction that a different ad hadn't been selected as 'the best' at selling products. I dunno. I sometimes feel like in a science fiction world where the advertisement has become more important than the actual product. Yes, this does sound like a great topic.
- I mentioned the Bodybugg on Monday, and I've now lost 4 pounds in the first 6 days. I don't expect that pace to continue, given the way weight loss works, but it is pleasing in the short term. I have a fuck-ton more weight to drop before I can make non-crazy people accept that a classy chick like my wife would actually copulate with me.
I believe that is all for now.
How is your writing going? Or any other creative project you may be taking on? Any advice you wanna contribute to those having trouble continuing to work on a creative project? Are you seeking any advice? Post it in the comments below!
-Blaine
Have no fear, though. I can at least help you with the writing bit. And I do know my way around a few JRPGs.
So, you've got a solid idea, you have some idea about the execution, you've gotten a bit of it hammered out, and now it's the next day. Or the next week. Maybe even a year later, and you kinda beat yourself up over letting that once-grand story just sit and fester. Sometimes you load it up, stare at it, maybe add a sentence or so, then shut it down in frustration.
That's totally normal. I honestly believe that this is the fate of most stories.
When I was initially writing the first Endless Wars book, I had more than a few moments like that. Sometimes, I was able to get past it by simply leaning back, sucking down a drink, and puffing down a smoke. It was a matter of just getting into the right head space.
That was sometimes. More often that not, though, that didn't put me into the right mental space.
I'm a firm believer in warming up. Whether it be athletics, programming, mathematics, sex, or writing, I need to get the engines revved first.
With writing, I like to go back to everything I wrote in the previous session, and start really editing it. By doing that, I find that my mind starts to re-shape itself into what it needs to be for that story. Every story has its own distinct personality, and it's important to get back in touch with that before banging out new ideas. Now, if you're writing on it every day, this may be less needed, but if you're coming back to something for the first time in a while, it's almost required, just so you know what the hell is going on in your story, if nothing else.
Even when I'm writing on something every day, I find that this helps me not only get my mind right, but it also allows me to take a more critical eye to the previous day's work, since I'm not totally into that space yet. You want as many different perspectives on your own work as possible, and since I generally don't share works in progress with others, this lets me act as my own on-the-fly editor, at least until I'm done.
If you're a persistent drunk, this is almost necessary, since a) you may or may not remember the actual events that transpired in your story the night before, and b) you may also have some rather egregious issues in your spelling and grammar.
Oh, and you know how some things seem like a great idea when you're drunk (climbing on your roof, knife-throwing contests, eating White Castle, sharing your true feelings with your boss via email, waking your wife up for drunk sex @ 6AM, etc.), but make you want to move to a remote part of the Yukon the next day? Well, the same applies to your book, so you may want to take a peek at how melodramatic and annoying you made your main character the night before.
Back to general editing, though, what I like most about this is that not only do I get pulled back into my book this way, but I get excited about banging out new material, so that when I'm done editing the last session, I hit the ground running, and I'm fired up about my new ideas.
Additionally, if I think about the current project while I'm in the shower, just after waking, I find that a lot of good ideas come to me then. Sometimes, I'll write them down, or I'll just salivate over them the rest of the day, and find myself chomping at the bit to get moving on the book again.
Another important key is building a process, especially if you're not the most practiced writer. Find a space in which you like to write, as well as the right music, and maybe even time of day. Sometimes there's a particular daily activity that, if you follow it immediately with writing, you churn out good work.
When I wrote the bulk of my book, I used to do it immediately after work, at around 3 or 4 in the afternoon (I would get up at the ass-crack of dawn to rip the guts out of chicken and then marinate them by the the hundreds all day), with music on and a movie on. I needed as much chaos as possible at that time. I would usually drink and chain-smoke, too. I would do that for about an hour or two each day. I cranked out the majority of my book doing that.
Now, if you start to really get somewhere as a writer, don't become a slave to your process. I know that this flies in the face of what most other writers will tell you, but they're cowardly pussies who like to make excuses for the lack of challenge they give themselves. Own your process and writing talent, and make them both work for you.
Additionally, when I was still in a band, most of my great song ideas would come to me while I was driving. It was a bit annoying, since guitar riffs are hard to preserve in your head for as long as I needed them to, sometimes. I think some of my best songs came from cruising the dirty city streets in my 1991 Pontiac Transport minivan back when I was a teenager. Make note of when your best ideas come to you, and what you're doing at those moments.
Nowadays, my biggest hurdle is just time. I'm actually trying to build a more consistent day-to-day schedule, so that I can get way too many things done. I'll admit that I don't crank on the fiction like I used to, but that's changing. The second Endless Wars book has a very solid beginning, and my G-doc project is still rattling in my brain, daring me to fail.
Really, time is a bitch, and is probably the greatest enemy of any unaccomplished writer. I know that I certainly don't have the time I'd like for my fiction, especially when I'm cranking out blogs like this, but it'll come. I know what I had to do to write that first book, I'm applying lessons learned from that to the second book, but I'm also learning what unique demands this book is making.
The bottom line, though, for any serious writer is the following: a page a day. Period. Even if it's crap. A page a day will get you to the point where your biggest worry is finding an agent and having a finished novel that you want to publish.
So, to recap:
- start out by editing the previous session's work; get yourself a running start into the new material; you will also see things that need to be addressed NOW, which is a bonus
- develop a process; discover the right location, music, habits, lighting, time of day, etc. that help you succeed as a writer
- A page a day. Seriously. A page a day. Do it. A page a day.
In Other News
- don't forget that Tony and I are returning to the mics these next two weekends, to record two new episodes of Untitled Podcast: Collector's Edition. We'll be rapping about Tokyo Game Show this weekend and doing a full-on Holiday Preview the following weekend. Have any games you just gotta hear about? Drop 'em here!
- Any current events you wanna hear about tomorrow? It'll be Thopical Thursday (a terrible attempt at a pun, I know, but just play along), so I'll be grabbing some poor, defenseless recent topic and beating the shit out of it. I'm thinking about addressing people's obsession with weird, unimportant shit like Kanye (the brand of a product) interrupting another brand's product placement award, to express dissatisfaction that a different ad hadn't been selected as 'the best' at selling products. I dunno. I sometimes feel like in a science fiction world where the advertisement has become more important than the actual product. Yes, this does sound like a great topic.
- I mentioned the Bodybugg on Monday, and I've now lost 4 pounds in the first 6 days. I don't expect that pace to continue, given the way weight loss works, but it is pleasing in the short term. I have a fuck-ton more weight to drop before I can make non-crazy people accept that a classy chick like my wife would actually copulate with me.
I believe that is all for now.
How is your writing going? Or any other creative project you may be taking on? Any advice you wanna contribute to those having trouble continuing to work on a creative project? Are you seeking any advice? Post it in the comments below!
-Blaine
20090915
The Filthy Writer Blog Relaunch
So, I've been meaning, for weeks now, to get back to posting nearly every weekday, but I've been too busy with all kindsa bullshit, but that's trickled down to a nearly-manageable level now.
Things have finally quieted down somewhat @ work, and I think I'm now ready to resume the blog. Thank the maker. I actually like posting here.
Announcements
- Untitled Podcast: Tony and I will be recording shows on 9/26 & 10/3. On 9/26, we'll be talking all things TGS, as well as catching up on our usual bullshit. On 10/3, it'll be our Holiday Preview, and we need YOU to tell us what YOU want to hear about! Comment on our 1UP blog with the games you want us to talk about, and we'll be sure to include most of them! Those shows will be hit the feeds, iTunes & otherwise, by 9/28 & 10/5, respectively.
- Also, I'm adding themes to each day on here. The goal is to post M-F on here, with the following themes: 'Manly Mondays,' 'Tech Tuesdays,' 'Writing Wednesday,' 'Topical Thursdays,' and 'Fuck Off Fridays.' Here's the breakdown:
Manly Mondays - This will be a short post, consisting of relationship advice for manly men. It's my opinion that modern men have lost their way, and turned into a generation of whiny bitches that don't grasp basic things like being consistent rocks for their families to rely on. I will singlehandedly save MAN-kind with this weekly entry. I will also answer any reader questions that I have pertaining to this topic.
Tech Tuesdays - This will be a little longer, and will be a rundown of cool tech stuff I've been playing with, and an explanation of the various crazy configurations I use for stuff, from Ubuntu customizations, to paring down your Vista startup, to Firefox configs, etc, as well as cool gaming stuff.
Writing Wednesdays - Another short post in which I rap for a while about writing, or answer reader questions.
Topical Thursdays - A longer post in which I pick a current topic, and break it down for everyone.
Fuck Off Fridays - This could go several ways.
- Writing: Online writing! I've started an interesting experiment. I'm writing an entire novel on Google Docs, and slowly sharing it with more and more people, the further in I get. Right now, it's only shared with three unlucky souls, but I plan on it expanding it further. If you have any interest in seeing my new book get written, lemme know, and I'll add you in at some point. It's somewhat of a chronicle of my years being a poor writer in dirty-ass Chicago.
- Writing: Don't forget, my new book is still for sale! LET YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY KNOW HOW SMART AND SEXY YOU ARE BY BUYING MY BOOK! E-Book is only $1.25, and dead tree version is $15.42!
- Writing: Also, if you've been kind enough to buy and read my book, I really, really need some reviews posted on Lulu. If you've read it, and can spare a few minutes, that would be a huge help.
Since it's Wednesday, let's get this thing started...
On Writing
Since this is my first 'Writing Wednesday' post, let's talk about the most important part of your story, the beginning. This is where 99% of all stories die.
Why?
I think it's because of confidence and commitment. If you don't believe in yourself, believe in your story, and make a commitment to that story, then you may as well just visit the Story Abortion Clinic, sign in, and take a seat.
Being a writer means putting yourself and your ego second. When working on a story, everything you do must serve the story. It doesn't matter if you're peppering the description in a scene in a book, storyboarding FX scenes in a film, or fluffing the lead in Bobby Batters Becky's Bottom. Everything must serve the story, or be exorcised. If your main goal is deliver a message, then write a fucking pamphlet. If you wanna see shit blow up, join the Army. The only thing that matters when constructing a narrative that you intend to deliver is serving the story. Put all agendas aside, and just write.
When I write, I'm not actually doing anything other than acting as a conduit. I just relax, re-read the previous day's work, touch it up a little, then free my mind, and let the words take control.
Also, I don't overthink it until I'm done with a section. Don't think until it's time to edit.
When you sit down to write something new, that blank page is scary. It's like looking over a great distance, and realizing that you can't even see where you're supposed to go, because it's so far away.
How do I overcome it? Easy. Alcohol.
I'm not saying 'get wasted,' but pour yourself a drink, whether it be a Merlot, or rum n' coke, or a beer, or whatever. Have a drink without looking at that page, think about what you wanna write, get yourself pumped, then, on the second drink, put on some music, and start hammering those keyboard keys. Start writing the thing. You may pleasantly surprise yourself.
Quick note, though - never write drunk. You may produce the best stuff of your life a handful of times, but you run into two dangers. One, you're training your mind to only function that way when it's inebriated, and two, you might come to believe that you can only write while under the influence.
Like I said, if ya have jitters, give yourself some liquid courage, but be smart about it.
Next week, we'll talk about how to keep that book going, how to actually come back to it.
Also, please let me know if you have any questions about anything! Oh, and if you're a writer, what are your greatest challenges?
Thanks!
-Blaine
Things have finally quieted down somewhat @ work, and I think I'm now ready to resume the blog. Thank the maker. I actually like posting here.
Announcements
- Untitled Podcast: Tony and I will be recording shows on 9/26 & 10/3. On 9/26, we'll be talking all things TGS, as well as catching up on our usual bullshit. On 10/3, it'll be our Holiday Preview, and we need YOU to tell us what YOU want to hear about! Comment on our 1UP blog with the games you want us to talk about, and we'll be sure to include most of them! Those shows will be hit the feeds, iTunes & otherwise, by 9/28 & 10/5, respectively.
- Also, I'm adding themes to each day on here. The goal is to post M-F on here, with the following themes: 'Manly Mondays,' 'Tech Tuesdays,' 'Writing Wednesday,' 'Topical Thursdays,' and 'Fuck Off Fridays.' Here's the breakdown:
Manly Mondays - This will be a short post, consisting of relationship advice for manly men. It's my opinion that modern men have lost their way, and turned into a generation of whiny bitches that don't grasp basic things like being consistent rocks for their families to rely on. I will singlehandedly save MAN-kind with this weekly entry. I will also answer any reader questions that I have pertaining to this topic.
Tech Tuesdays - This will be a little longer, and will be a rundown of cool tech stuff I've been playing with, and an explanation of the various crazy configurations I use for stuff, from Ubuntu customizations, to paring down your Vista startup, to Firefox configs, etc, as well as cool gaming stuff.
Writing Wednesdays - Another short post in which I rap for a while about writing, or answer reader questions.
Topical Thursdays - A longer post in which I pick a current topic, and break it down for everyone.
Fuck Off Fridays - This could go several ways.
- Writing: Online writing! I've started an interesting experiment. I'm writing an entire novel on Google Docs, and slowly sharing it with more and more people, the further in I get. Right now, it's only shared with three unlucky souls, but I plan on it expanding it further. If you have any interest in seeing my new book get written, lemme know, and I'll add you in at some point. It's somewhat of a chronicle of my years being a poor writer in dirty-ass Chicago.
- Writing: Don't forget, my new book is still for sale! LET YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY KNOW HOW SMART AND SEXY YOU ARE BY BUYING MY BOOK! E-Book is only $1.25, and dead tree version is $15.42!
- Writing: Also, if you've been kind enough to buy and read my book, I really, really need some reviews posted on Lulu. If you've read it, and can spare a few minutes, that would be a huge help.
Since it's Wednesday, let's get this thing started...
On Writing
Since this is my first 'Writing Wednesday' post, let's talk about the most important part of your story, the beginning. This is where 99% of all stories die.
Why?
I think it's because of confidence and commitment. If you don't believe in yourself, believe in your story, and make a commitment to that story, then you may as well just visit the Story Abortion Clinic, sign in, and take a seat.
Being a writer means putting yourself and your ego second. When working on a story, everything you do must serve the story. It doesn't matter if you're peppering the description in a scene in a book, storyboarding FX scenes in a film, or fluffing the lead in Bobby Batters Becky's Bottom. Everything must serve the story, or be exorcised. If your main goal is deliver a message, then write a fucking pamphlet. If you wanna see shit blow up, join the Army. The only thing that matters when constructing a narrative that you intend to deliver is serving the story. Put all agendas aside, and just write.
When I write, I'm not actually doing anything other than acting as a conduit. I just relax, re-read the previous day's work, touch it up a little, then free my mind, and let the words take control.
Also, I don't overthink it until I'm done with a section. Don't think until it's time to edit.
When you sit down to write something new, that blank page is scary. It's like looking over a great distance, and realizing that you can't even see where you're supposed to go, because it's so far away.
How do I overcome it? Easy. Alcohol.
I'm not saying 'get wasted,' but pour yourself a drink, whether it be a Merlot, or rum n' coke, or a beer, or whatever. Have a drink without looking at that page, think about what you wanna write, get yourself pumped, then, on the second drink, put on some music, and start hammering those keyboard keys. Start writing the thing. You may pleasantly surprise yourself.
Quick note, though - never write drunk. You may produce the best stuff of your life a handful of times, but you run into two dangers. One, you're training your mind to only function that way when it's inebriated, and two, you might come to believe that you can only write while under the influence.
Like I said, if ya have jitters, give yourself some liquid courage, but be smart about it.
Next week, we'll talk about how to keep that book going, how to actually come back to it.
Also, please let me know if you have any questions about anything! Oh, and if you're a writer, what are your greatest challenges?
Thanks!
-Blaine
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