An oddly responsible day off

My days off of work are pretty sacred to me, in that I generally try to relax at least a little bit. Today wasn’t an exception to that rule of sorts.

Marceline the Adventure Bean, our third cat, had a vet appointment for her final vaccinations, and I had a very pressing need to find out why the Hell the Maintenance Required light was on in my car (spoilers: it wasn’t because it missed my bright, beautiful smile). I also had come to the realization that there’s not a whole lot by way of food in the new place, which was something I decided needed correcting. I wanted to get a haircut, but that didn’t quite manage to happen. We’ll get back to that.

My errands followed one another quite neatly, with the vet appointment going smoothly, the cleaning out of my car going well, and then the oil change & battery check-up for my car going poorly. Womp womp. Turns out the issues I’d noticed lately were because my poor ol’ Toyota’s battery needed replacing, but the folks at the Plank Road Jiffy Lube are the absolute best. Problem solved nice and quickly. Thanks to stopping there, I saw a recipe on TV for two ingredient chicken (skin-on chicken breasts; add garlic and herb brie or Borsin, then bake…For those interested, Google two ingredient chicken), and so dinner plans were set.

If this post sounds oddly responsible, that’s because it is. I wanted to get some writing done today, but that didn’t quite happen (it will be happening tomorrow instead, as I have self-imposed deadlines to meet). There’s a problem there, however, because I had plenty of creative thoughts rattling around that were left to wait. They seem to have conspired with my love of cooking. Something made me think of scotch bonnets, which are a type of very hot pepper similar to habaneros. They’re commonly, or so Google says, used for Caribbean jerk recipes and have a sweeter taste than their similarly-spicy pepper cousins. I suddenly found myself, a couple hours ago, wanting to use them to make something. I couldn’t figure out what.

My current idea? I happened upon a recipe for caramel sauce with cayenne pepper in it, and decided trying it with scotch bonnets could be plausible. I’ll have to post the results once this food experimentation invariably happens.

How do you other creative types seem to handle the untapped creative ideas in situations like this?

I’d say more, but I work very early tomorrow. Pretty sure this hundred days is almost up, but I need to verify that to be sure.

A worthy cause – Intervention

Hi, folks. Second post of the night (woohoo), and though I am in the middle of frenzied last-minute packing I still wanted to share this. It’s that important to me.

Intervention, or Interventioncon, the premier showcase of online creativity is up for a grant that could be a world-moving, life-changing thing for this event. All it needs is 250 votes, which should be easy to accomplish. Voting is so simple: click the following link, then click vote and connect via Facebook.

https://www.missionmainstreetgrants.com/business/detail/37955

For those of you who need convincing, read on.

What is Intervention?

Intervention is called, as mentioned above, the premier showcase of online creativity. It has been featured on many news sites of all sizes, and has been home to many brilliant, terrific guests. It’s a weekend long conference filled with educational panels on a number of topics (ranging from writing to comics to social networking and so on), tremendously fun events such as a special season premier of Doctor Who at this past year’s iteration, loads of opportunities to spread awesome and kindness to others, and a generally good time that should have more time than a weekend (I can dream, right?). I can say from experience that I leave Intervention every year I attend feeling revitalized and ready to write, create, and implement all of the new things I learned. To define Intervention in a post like this doesn’t do it justice, but there’s so much more to talk about. For more information about what Intervention is, check out its web site at http://www.interventioncon.com.

Why support Intervention?

Intervention is all about enabling independent artists in moving forward with their craft. It started as the mad, brilliant dream of Onezumi Hartstein, James Harknell, and a number of other dedicated, terrific individuals, and has grown into such a fan-freaking-tastic community since then. There is no con scene that can compare to the community Intervention has built in these past five years (plus the years it was being created behind the proverbial curtain). It’s all funded by a small group and donations. No shady corporate puppet-masters or shit like that. Enablers, people who donate on top of registration, are also very helpful (and I urge anyone who attends to provide even a little as an Enabler as it goes a long way towards keeping Intervention alive). This, however, is a chance for Intervention to receive a tremendous grant and it only requires a few clicks of the mouse (or taps of the finger if you’re on a tablet, smart phone, or other smart device). In a world where such actions are usually rewarded with refreshing Facebook to read a few new, probably boring, status updates, you could do SO MUCH GOOD INSTEAD. The statuses will still be there, but this is a chance to make a huge impact on an event that is making a huge impact on so many lives. I cannot, CANNOT stress this enough.

Vote, and encourage others to do so as well

It takes only a few seconds, and the good it could do will affect so many artists by way of this event. It costs nothing other than a few brief seconds, and it’ll leave you with a feeling you’ve done the right, good thing. Get to it.

The link, again, because pretty-please-with-sugar-vote:

https://www.missionmainstreetgrants.com/business/detail/37955

Thanks, folks, and definitely check out next year’s Intervention. I hear it’s supposed to be pretty spectacular.

Find your own kind of brilliance

Warning: posting this from my Android phone. Who knows what kind of silly shenanigans will follow?

Short summary of my day, better known as The Movening: I got very little done compared to my goals. This is thanks to me finding a groundhog’s dwelling with my foot, falling back on my left leg, and spraining my ankle quite badly. It’s been a symphony of swearing today. The ankle in question is bundled up neatly in an AirCast. It still really hurts.

I also started rereading Stardust for the hundredth time. There’s something in the magic of Neil Gaiman’s writing that fills me with such a yearning to get off my ass and do some of my own writing. The moving mentality I have seems to blot that out a fair bit, sadly.

And then there are the inevitable pangs of envy. Wanting to be able to create something as fantastically brilliant of my own. Lindsey, beta-reader extraordinaire and terrific writer, told me Joshua Harkin and the Wicked Nightmare King read like a collaboration between Neil Gaiman and the author of Howl’s Moving Castle. That is, without a doubt, some of the highest praise I have ever received, but it also got me thinking.

There’s nothing wrong with never achieving Neil Gaiman or Terry Pratchett level brilliance. No matter how much I try, I won’t. What I will, I suspect, eventually manage is to create my own kind of brilliance. Even if it’s never on a massive scale, it’ll be me and the creative style that is entirely mine. That’s something I hope all creative folks can embrace.

Find what you do well. Make it brilliant. Make it your own. Love it and pour your soul into it, and then rip it apart and fix it until you reach such a point where you can’t bear to look at your work anymore. Let it rest, and do it again.

Above all else, be happy with creating something. There are so many other, similar artists out there, but none of them are exactly the same.

Creative cooking

Or “I owe a fair bit of editing and really want to start on my unnamed novel project, so here’s a cool thing I made on a whim”.

image

This may have been one of the tastiest crazy ideas I’ve ever had.

I love to cook, which goes hand-in-hand with loving food for me. Coming up with new, potentially delicious dishes is exciting in similar ways to binge-writing tends to be.

My annual health screening at work revealed something I had figured out on my own: I need to shed some weight. Not one to just say meh and give up (yes, I do that sometimes; shut up), I decided I needed to make a healthy dinner tonight. Above is only part of the dinner; a mango-pineapple-pomegranate salsa-thing of my own design. I applied a bit of Pyrat XO Reserve to the sauce pan before adding the diced fruit bits.

The orange aromas from the Pyrat were especially noticeable as this mix heated up, and the kitchen still smells like some new, secret scent from Bath & Body Works. The pineapple broke down somewhat, mixing in with the mango and pomegranate quite nicely. Overall, it went very nicely with chicken and mixed veggies. Definitely something I’d make again.

Flying the right path

I’ve noticed the myth of Icarus popping up a fair bit lately, and I couldn’t help but think about it in my own dopey sort of way. Most everyone has some sort of ultimate dream-goal they’d like to achieve (so says the guy who wants to become a relatively well-known author), and I think it’s safe to say those dream-goals usually exist at some sort of lofty heights and require a great deal of hard work and sacrifice. It’s Obvious Day here at Misadventures in Fiction, in case anyone hasn’t noticed.

To recap briefly: Icarus soared too high, the sun melted the wax binding his wings together, and he fell to his death. A cautionary tale, no doubt, of how dangerous pride can be. As dangerous as sweeping generalizations may be, I think it’s safe to say Icarus’ fall is the most well-remembered detail. But what about the rest of Daedalus’ warning? He also warned Icarus to not fly too low. In order to escape successfully, Icarus would have to find the perfect height at which to fly; not proud and close to the sun, but without holding his head low so as to not be swallowed up by the sea. Finding such a balance is something that can be applied to pretty much anything in life, but we can safely say I’ll be focusing on finding that balance in creative adventures (and misadventures). I’m not speaking as an expert on the topic, as I was accused of being my own worst enemy yet again tonight. Whoops. Continue reading

The conundrum of writing as a gift

Update: Special thanks to my mouse for bouncing around and giving me some interesting typos in the title/URL. Wheatley needs to stop being so damned uncooperative.

Better known as “the post that almost didn’t happen tonight because I’m feeling lazy, but I’m now trapped on the couch by two snoozing kittens and felt some weird sense of obligation”. Much too long of a title, really, so I went with my alternate choice.

I mentioned in last night’s post I’m making something I’m pretty sure is really awesome for two really great people who are now engaged. It was an idea I had actually plotted specifically for them, though it’s one that can be modified relatively easily and so on. The real conundrum, however, and probably something relating directly to my tendency to second-guess myself is as follows: is giving the gift of a written work, refined and dolled up especially well for the occasion, a really thoughtful gift or just a selfish flaunting of the author’s writing? I’m having trouble with words already, so this can only go downhill from here.

On one hand, when I write for people it’s like I’m giving the recipient a piece of my soul (joke’s on those people, as I obviously don’t have a soul). I use tremendous amounts of care in every aspect of the creative process, tailoring my work specifically for the person who will be getting it as a gift. I’d say it’s a very intimate, personal experience, but I honestly can’t think of a way to make writing a story for someone sound creepier than calling it anything involving the word intimate. I promise that’s the last time I’ll use that word in this post. Probably.

However, I can’t help but wonder if people who receive such gifts consider them as some sort of crappy writing exercise? A thoughtless, lazy throw-away instead of a purchased bauble. Something of that nature. I realize that, in most cases at least, people probably don’t think that way and it’s all in my head.

Fellow writers, how do you all feel about giving writing (short stories, essays, etc.) as a gift? Do you folks worry about what the people you’re gifting your writing to think of it?

An off-day day off

Today was a monster, and so I’m recovering by doing some cleaning (yes, recovering by doing some cleaning; that’s a bit sad). I know I should do some creative writing, but my brain is a stagnant pool of disappointment. There is some good news, however, in the form of having a super-huge, super-secret project…that I can’t talk about because it’s a secret. It is, however, related to tomorrow’s planned post about making gifts out of creative stuff (writing, drawings, whatever). Serious business. Tonight, however, can be a small failure, no thanks to my mood and my laptop being an uncooperative assclown. Alternatively, I budgeted for days like this in my Hundred Days of Blogging madness.

Instead of enjoying my writing (hey, I can hope), here’s some music that helps me along as I write (and through life in general). Naturally, I claim no ownership of any of this music. It just helps keep me sane on days like today (when the internet apparently only works on devices I DON’T NEED THE INTERNET TO WORK ON; I’m looking at you, Wheatley, you lazy piece of circuitry). Anyway, onto the good stuff.

Coldplay – Viva la Vida

St. Vincent – Psychopath

Metric – Speed the Collapse

MSMR – Fantasy

(This one’s a bit trippy, but I love the song all the same.)

Delerium – Stargazing

 

Problem-solving, and a terrific quote

I was big on problem-solving today. I had the choice to either face the problems that have accrued lately or just say the hell with it and let them crush me. I chose the former, of course.

The good that came of those solutions is that I won’t have to work fourteen days in a row, even though I still have a couple double-shifts. Such is life. I also decided I need a new bank after finding out the replacement debit card I requested after the business with my previous one getting stolen (the info was stolen, anyway) had never actually been ordered/sent out/whatever. That’s some pro-level incompetence right there.

Tomorrow will feature a post about picking your poison, in which I talk about bourbon and my choices of booze. Monday will focus on the difference betwee villains and antiheroes (no spoilers for that yet). For now I’d like to share aa great post Joe Lansdale, an author whose wisdom I was pointed to by Zachary T. Owen (a writer of remarkable skill and wisdom of his own). I’ve not read any books by Joe Lansdale, but I think that’s something I need to correct eventually. Eventually. Hoping you all, dear readers, are having a great weekend. You should like Joe Lansdale’s Facebook page, by the way, and check out his works (like my lazy, simple self needs to as well). I lay no claim to this Facebook post, obviously; it’s just some damn good food for thought.

A vexing night

This is going to be short, sweet, to the point, and a pretty healthy dose of “get your head out of your ass and move on already” for myself. That last bit’s kind of important, even if it’s a little selfish. It’s been a weird night of running into walls, struggling with inner demons, and other meaningful cliches for the headaches I associate with dwelling on the gap between where I’d like to be and where I presently feel I am.

Warning: There be some f-bombs a-lurkin’ in this here post.

I could easily put together a post on how many creative-types are weighed down by their own doubt, fear, self-loathing, and so much more (I came way too close to listing the various Sha there, and I’m not sorry to point that out). That’s very nearly what this would have been, but I couldn’t. It felt wrong and unpleasant. Plus it was the last thing I needed to read in the mood I’m in, and so I doubt it’s the sort of thing anyone else would want to read if they’re trying to muster up the energy to get back to work.

Here’s what I’d like this post to be instead. The instructions for myself and any other creative folks, or really anyone, who find themselves frustrated and feeling stuck.

Create. Don’t force it because it’ll only end in regret, but create as often and as passionately as possible. Build amazing, awe-inspiring worlds and populate them with characters both sympathetic and heroic as well as ones who are irredeemably loathsome. Let them move through lives that are only somewhat guided by the art you create and enjoy where things go. Don’t let the goddamn what-ifs and why-nots, the feelings of doubt and failure, all of the shit that makes creative types like myself into their own worst enemies. It accomplishes no good, and only results in nights spent after long days at work only thinking of the things you’ve not accomplished. What you haven’t done or where you think you should be. All of this instead of celebrating where you are and what you’ve accomplished.

I say this as someone who won a book contract, which should be a big deal for me as a writer. I’ve been so busy worrying about never managing to create something that big again and dwelling on how people will perceive my book being published not based on its merit but because of a contest victory.

Screw that.

There’s a reason the saying “Where there’s a will, there’s a way” has endured the test of time. My schedule may be a bit all over the place, and I may question my merit as a writer a good deal. I don’t have a five year plan or a ten year plan. Hell, I don’t even have a particularly well-assembled one year plan. While I recognize such things as long-term planning are crucial to being a successful artist, I’m pretty sure there’s more than one way to handle them.

Most importantly, and veering a little bit back from the rather self-centric post we have here, I hope any artist who finds this gets enough of a boost to keep going if that’s what they need at the time.

Going back to my post about almost being to Pumpkin Spice Season/Hot Apple Cider Season – I need to just focus on finding time to create, not worrying about the outcome. Far easier said than done, especially when every fiber of my being is saying to just go to sleep. What’s the point in busting my ass at a 9 to 5 if I’m not going to find time and energy to do what I love most (hint: I’m talking about writing).

So I end with a challenge to anyone who reads this. Create, with or without a plan, but with all of your heart and soul. Make something you think is awesome, even if upon editing you decide it’s not the best thing ever. At the end of the day, you’ve still made something new that wasn’t in the world before that point, and that’s pretty fucking rad.

Pumpkin spice season has (almost) arrived

At some point or another, September apparently showed up. Or every single calendar I’ve encountered since Sunday has been telling me horrible, cruel lies. I’m slightly more inclined to believe the former is true, however, because I’m not all that big into outrageous conspiracies on most days. This summer provided many opportunities for hilarious misadventures, but it also somehow managed to be entirely draining. From the work-related madness to the life-related madness (with a friendly reminder there was a goddamn bat in my house not too long ago), this summer has felt less like a season of vacation, rejuvenation, and fun in the sun, and more like a time of frustration, bad news so bad it bordered onto comedy, and both minor and major setbacks. That’s not to say all of the summer was bad, of course. I won a book contract, which I then over-thought to the point of making it a good and a bad thing (if you missed that you should count your blessings and move along). Brianne and I have found a new place to live, which I’m quite excited about (save for now having to cut the grass, which is far from ideal). I could probably go on for a dozen more posts about my trip to Chicago, but it’s probably for the best I don’t. You were all right, Summer of 2014, but you certainly tested me. For that I should probably be thankful. Continue reading