Today’s intended post isn’t meant to happen, it seems, as my laptop seems to be having…some issues. Here’s some small bit of peace I treated myself to today, despite the awful weather and how bad last month was.
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I write versus I am a writer
Today served as an unfortunate foil to yesterday in that I let myself succumb to shitty moods and so forth. As such, this post’s chosen title is particularly relevant, so instead of talking about what made my day shitty we’ll just get to that instead. You people, thank the stars or the Gods or whatever (Xenu? Praising Xenu is an option, I guess), aren’t my therapist. Moving on.
I find myself contemplating the difference between saying “I write” and “I’m a writer” (I shy away from contraction in titles whenever possible; don’t judge). It’s a very small difference in phrasing that holds a substantial meaning, to be sure. I’d like to be able to say I’m a writer, for example, but lately I feel it’s more appropriate to say I write. It’s something I do because I can’t envision life without writing, but I also don’t write for a living. I’m willing, of course, to say I’m probably splitting hairs in terms of writing versus being a writer. Continue reading
Sunday, snowy Sunday
While I’m normally one of the first people who make fun of everyone boo-hooing about the cold and snow of winter, especially since I live in Pennsylvania where this shit is so common and unsurprising, I have to say I’m pretty well finished with this snow-and-ice-and-misery business.
I took a nap halfway into that last sentence and forgot what the Hell I was typing. As I often say: in my defense, I shoveled the sidewalk and driveway, and I cleaned off the cars. That counts for something, probably.
Since my goals are more focused on adding to the page count of A Princess, A Lich, and Some Murders, I’ll make this quick-ish.
Works in Progress
A Princess, A Lich, and Some Murders – 70 pages/11 chapters; about 1/3 of the way complete, give or take
Cordelia’s (short story) – Complete! Working towards submitting it places.
Woman Seeks Vampire for Dinner and a Movie – Still just notes, but with more direction
The Repository of Lost Ideas – Notes, notes, and still more notes.
Interview with a Retired God – Still only a title, with the beginnings of an idea to go with it.
Works On Hold
The Devil Suggested I Do It (novel; working title)
Warpt Factor (the novel)
The Lodgers (novel)
…
On the plus side, there’s now a lot more in the Works in Progress section than in the On Hold section. That must count as some sort of progress, right? Right? Tonight’s Oscar night, however, so I need to make some more writing happen before then. Oscars night means it’s time to drink and live-tweet my disdain for Hollywood.
Happy (not actually) Bastille Day!
Happy Monday, fellow misadventurers! It’s another godforsaken Monday, and boy did I feel like death. I was the sickliest sick that ever drank Pepto Bismol earlier, but now I feel so much better. Fortunately for everyone who reads this, I’m not going to talk about that any further.
I picked Bastille today because it’s the first artist I’m not giving five out of five arbitrary scoring point-things. I love Bastille, and we’ll get to the reason for this choice soonish.
Somehow, through some stroke of luck, I happened upon “Pompeii” on YouTube. It had me hooked instantly. iTunes was opened, I searched for Bastille, and then cursed everything because the full album wasn’t available. There was, however, a four-song EP titled Haunt. If this were any indication to me, based on “Haunt” and “Pompeii”, as to how good their upcoming CD would be, I knew I would be hooked.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t entirely correct there. I did, of course, buy the Deluxe Preorder Whatever-The-Hell version, which featured a few extra tracks (one of the albums redeeming qualities). Haunt set the bar very high in terms of what I should expect, and a few of the tracks let me down a bit by comparison.
“Pompeii”, while one of my favorite songs by Bastille, is also enough of an earworm that having it stuck in my head for weeks at a time negates some of its greatness. Having to skip tracks after giving the whole CD a chance makes it a bit more disappointing, as I’m usually able to take a liking to entire CDs over time (usually being the operative word here).
Overall, Bastille’s vocals and catchy tunes still defeat any doubts I have about Haunt and Bad Blood and more. Overall arbitrary rating of four out of five golden wossname-thingums.
Hibernation season has arrived
At some point, through some cruel twist of fate, it has officially become winter. I know. Shocking that the weather has taken a turn for the cold and disappointing in January of all months. Today was the first day of my favorite multi-month event, the Fishtailing of the Cars. My lovely little black Toyota handles snow pretty well in the sense that it usually doesn’t go three different directions I don’t want it to before correcting its course.
I had a post planned about how things didn’t go quite according to plan in regards to my more writing, more reading, less naps, etc., plan, but there’s something about this weather that makes me want to curl up underneath a thousand blankets deep within a pillow-fort (note to self: find a way to build a pillow-fort that incorporates the TV; only leave the living room for food and bathroom use) and slumber until the first signs of summer are upon us. It’s supposed to be eight degrees or less tomorrow, which is at least twenty degrees colder than should ever be acceptable.
The bigger problem, at least for me, isn’t the cold or the snow, or even my inability to cope with weather conditions I’ve been exposed to my whole life living in Pennsylvania (the keystone to the frozen wastes of Northrend). No. My biggest conundrum is how this cold weather, with its oppressive chill, saps me of any energy to really use anywhere (beyond the aforementioned cover-cocooning). It becomes a vicious cycle of frustration over not accomplishing much only to realize that it’d be a lot easier to meet goals if I didn’t feel borderline comatose thanks to trudging through this dreadful cold to and from work…all ten feet of parking lot that I need to walk, at any rate.
However, that’s not to say I don’t realize I need to brew up some tea or cocoa (or perhaps just a hot toddy, but probably not since I want to actually be coherent while writing), sit my partially-frozen ass down, and get back to writing. I’ve got a notebook of ideas, more notebooks practically begging for ideas, and a relatively new Moleskine pen that is powerful enough to make me push past my typical distaste for handwritten notes and the likes.
To my fellow creative types, in whatever partially iced-over dwellings you find yourselves in: how are you coping with this polar vortex horseshit? What tricks and tactics are working best to help keep the creativity thawed?
Once upon a time, I got a book published
Well, more specifically I should say that once upon a time I won a book publishing contract that resulted in getting a book published. As a quick, highly-related aside: my backspace key seems to be sticking, so correcting errors is a real treat. Already prepared to say screw it and have typos from here on out. We all know that isn’t going to happen.
Right.
“But Phil,” you might say, “why are you saying published in the past tense?”
What an excellent question, convenient question-asking post-device persona. That’s because, and I’m both very excited and slightly anxious (for no good, real reason) to announce, my first novel, Joshua Harkin and the Wicked Nightmare King, is now available for purchase here.
Needless to say, this is really crazy exciting stuff for me, even if I haven’t fully processed it because I’m still partially lost to my Thanksgiving feasting-induced food coma.
Check it out and please consider picking up a copy (or two or ten; it would definitely be a great non-denominational holiday gift). There will be a Kindle version available down the road, and I’ll be more than happy to link to that as well.
Friday night game-time
Magnificent times are being had with Brianne, Kurt, James, and I. There may be some alcohol involved.
Writerly woes: the frustration of stagnating
WordPress didn’t feel like cooperating with me tonight, and I had a few other issues to hash out so I’m not about to penalize myself for this one being a bit late. Yes, that might be cheating a little and I would feel terribly guilty if I hadn’t posted something every day for nearly the past hundred days.
One of the key reasons I’ve bowed out of the yearly torture-disguised-as-working-on-my-craft known as NaNoWriMo is because I seem to have hit a brick wall. A quick about-face and I discovered another wall. The short of it is I, through some weirdness that happens to comprise part of my creative whims, have found myself quite thoroughly stuck. It’s not for lack of ideas or lack of motivation so much as it is a complete lack of want to write while still wanting to write.
It’s just as annoying as it sounds, and it should be something I can push past…but no luck. So each day I try again with renewed resolve. For now, it’s time to get some sleep. I need to actually post something of substance tomorrow or I’ll be damning myself up and down.
Not a single post idea to be had
I can’t think of anything good to post, I’m afraid, and so here’s some fun music. So close to my hundredth day, but so far.
The 2014 NaNoWriMo decision is…
Tonight is surprisingly devoid of Halloween-related goodness. No scary movies until tomorrow, as Brianne has coursework to focus on. Trick-or-treating happened last night ’round these parts. I’m not feeling particularly motivated to dig out any scary video games or read any spooky stories. Oh, and I’m starting to feel sick but I think that’s mostly thanks to this awful warm-and-cold alternating weather (get your shit together, Mother Nature). I’ll chalk it up to the stars being in a funky alignment or some witch putting a particularly unimpressive hex on me and move on.
It’s NaNoWriMo Eve after all, and there are thousands upon thousands of writers all over who are currently full of anticipation and anxiety for the next thirty days of self-torment under the disguise of writing. After a fair bit of consideration, going back and forth on the topic, I’ve decided to not go for the crazy glory this year. If I’m not doing a great deal of writing already, I can only imagine how much additional stress and frustration this will produce.
Best of luck to everyone who does participate.
Phil's Misadventures In Fiction 