Wandering thoughts

Disclaimer: this post is about to go down a few rabbit holes that involve the endless stream of nonsense I live with running through my head like the news ticker at the bottom of most cable news networks. Shit’s about to get weird. Turn back, or forever regret pressing onward.

At the age of 30, which is apparently just old enough for people slightly younger than me to now make me feel older than I should feel just yet, I have come to terms with the fact that the inside of my head is a much louder place than I am always comfortable with it being. My inner monologue is often actually a rather argumentative dialogue, and as of late it has been particularly distracting. It likes to remind me that the plausibility of becoming an accomplished, published author isn’t very high. That I am disappointing people who should, under no circumstances, be disappointed. Sometimes it likes to tell me I’m fat, but also suggest I eat an entire bag of popcorn with extra butter and then chase it with some ice cream, because reasonably I should balance hot and cold foods. Continue reading

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Artistic what-ifs

It’s really easy to ask someone what they do for a living, and the typical response to such inquiries usually revolves around their job. Sometimes, and I emphasize sometimes, the response will have to do with something a person is passionate about (IE: I consider my writing how I make my living, while my day job is the way I afford said living). As I’ve said a million times before, and will continue saying forever: there’s a certain magic when a person talks about what really makes them tick; the thing they’re most passionate about doing in the whole of all creation.

However, I would argue that everyone also has at least one other passion, but one they’ve never gotten to pursue (or, perhaps, one they’ve not gotten to pursue to the extent they’d have liked). It may be something they talk about openly, with a sense of longing, or something that is quietly yearned for in those moments before sleep. I’ve talked about wanting to act before, so I figured I could offer a little more insight into myself. And, of course, I’d love to hear what you folks all wish you could get around to learning, doing, and so on.

If possible, and I realize there’s the small matter that everything is possible with the right amount of time, money, and patience (and other things, but that money one is what really kills me), I’d love to learn how to play the cello. I’d be very happy to really sit down and learn any instrument, really, which is one regret I have from not staying with my piano lessons. There’s something about cello music, though. I’m having a hell of a time really describing the feelings cello music cause me, so instead I’ll just share this:

I think the first time I heard that was onĀ House, M.D., and I was hooked. There’s something inherently soothing, I think, to cello music, and so learning to play it would be like a nice, musical form of meditation. That all said, cellos are really goddamn expensive and, quite frankly, I have a hard enough time finding…well, time to accomplish all of the things I need to in a day without adding learning an instrument into the mix. Or perhaps those are just excuses.

What kind of other adventures do you folks dream of embarking on? Are they things you really can’t achieve, or are you, too, just making excuses?

A desire for endless creativity meets a finite capacity for ideas

Or, more accurately, “the point where I want to keep creating fresh content forever but can’t do so without some level of planning ahead”. You get the idea. This is totally a post complaining about One Hundred Days of Fiction 2.0, the ill-planned idea that I had when I realized my blogging was falling by the wayside as I continued to try writing every day, but it also has more valid points to it. Promise. It’s not just a glorified rant (though it definitely is also a glorified rant, just so we’re entirely clear on that point).

Ask any creative person when they get their ideas. The answer, barring a particularly nasty creative block, will likely be some variation of “all of the time”. There’s no off switch on that stuff, people. Unfortunately, there aren’t enough hours in a day to always tackle every idea and so things get put on backburners, where they are left to either wait impatiently or gradually wither, die, and find themselves recycled in the great mess of other ideas.

There’s a lot to be said about maintaining consistent, good writing habits (or, really, consistent good habits). Writing a little every day, for instance, is a good thing. Forcing a structure to it for the sake of making sure writing happens? Probably not ideal for everyone. On the plus side, when I take the actual one-month hiatus from blogging that follows this, I’ll appreciate it that much more. Also, I’m pretty sure I’ll be on a strict fiction-and-editorial diet for a bit. That should surprise no one.

I’m starting to feel sick, which is unacceptable, so I’m calling it a night here before I get too much more into writing this post. I refuse to not feel well for my vacation.

One Hundred Days of Blogging – Day Two

Day Two – Creating Stories from the Chaos of Ideas

It only seemed appropriate to focus on the topic of creating stories from the chaos of my ideas, which are all over the place, for the second day. Mostly because I’m still convinced my Hundred Days of Blogging will be more chaotic than ordered.

My process isn’t new or revolutionary, and I’m pretty sure I’ve covered as much before. I’d like to say I sit down with a concept. Some sort of message I want to get across, maybe, or an image so powerful that won’t leave my mind until I share it. Deep stuff, right? Continue reading