While I am not overly fond of handwritten notes and so on, as typing has always been the far more effective method for me, I’m trying to see if using a means of writing that lacks internet access will help or hinder my usual productivity (or lack of productivity, as it seems to be at times).
The notebooks and pen. Not pictured: access to millions of pictures featuring cats doing silly things.
And, of course, I need some company…which is where these come into play, I guess.
Confession: I may have just gotten bored and picture-happy.
Without further delay, I’m off to hopeful productivity. Ignoring, of course, that I have just been chosen as Marceline’s snoozing spot. Happy writing, folks. Try to stay warm.
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
There seems to be a storm a-brewin’ in them thar hills just outside. Or something that one day aspires to be a storm. It rained for a solid thirty seconds or so, just a proper and sudden downpour, and then nothing. I hear the occasional rumble of thunder here and there, but I’m not sure it’s not one of the neighbors making a bit of noise.
Okay, it’s definitely thunder. Also: holy crap. Look at these beautiful, wild and crazy clouds.
All of this, of course, is being posted from the Chicagoland area (specifically Plainfield). That means I survived my first-ever long road trip! I am a weird blend of highly enthusiastic and road-lagged, the latter being slightly exacerbated by woes of a non-vacation variety creeping in from one time zone away. Thankfully for everyone, those woes are not what this post will be about. Instead, let’s talk about my adventure, and it certainly was an adventure, from Carnegie to Plainfield. And how the end of the trip involved Mother Nature making an attempt on my life. Continue reading
My focus is more on the little red notebook, and still slightly directed towards the oh-shit possibility of a bat getting in. Again. More importantly, I feel I should bow out from last night’s topic idea, if only because I don’t think I could handle it in a way that would read well. The short version, simply put, is there is nothing wrong with seeking help. Life will take you on magnificent journeys, but sometimes you may end up in dark places. Those are the times seeking outside aid shows true strength.
I’m happy to report I’ve added a good bit of detail to my new unnamed novel project, which has its own notebook…and is the newish topic of tonight’s post. Continue reading
Remember back when One Hundred Days had only just turned twenty-one. Its whole life was ahead of it, full of promise and potential (and alcohol). And then it hit thirty, which is practically over-the-hill by today’s standards. New technology frightens it. Younger blog posts just don’t seem to make sense, and One Hundred Days doesn’t quite get their strange choice in language.
That’s why I’m a night-blogger, people. Because I’m usually awake enough to filter shit like that out. Even though other, just-as-ridiculous things take the place of passages like the one above. Just observe the strange behavior from afar and appreciate knowing you probably aren’t one of the unlucky people who has to spend family dinners with me.
I’m writing this post early on for two reasons. Reason number one is that I have to work mid-shift today, thanks to my own scheduling, and so I won’t want to do much of anything by the time I get home. Reason two is that even in the event I did want to do anything once I get home, I’ve decided tonight will be spent enjoying a little World of Warcraft. My Shaman needs some attention, and I have to get ready for the excitement Blizzard promised with its 10th Anniversary business. The level of enthusiasm I still feel for this game disgusts me a little. Tomorrow, though my day off, will be spent resurrecting Thanatos into Wheatley, which means transferring several hundred gigs of data from my external hard drive, and writing. Continue reading
At any given time, there’s probably about a dozen too many ideas rattling around in the vast weirdness of my thoughts. This can make keeping track of everything a bit difficult, though I say this as someone who also owns a good number of notebooks that are far more devoid of any writing than they should be. As I mentioned earlier in the week, I’m now working on the first draft of yet another novel idea, which arrives and leaves the forefront of my thoughts at its leisure. There are Warpt Factor plotlines bouncing off of one another like they’re all locked up in a particularly potent bouncy castle. Many short stories. Posts for Screen Robot. You get the idea. Continue reading
Or “I wanted to make something neat to go with the new layout, but I’m not particularly talented at taking pictures and also only have my phone for such things.”
I’m a bit iffy on how I feel about it, but I figured notebooks would be the way to go (and I also have a billion of the damn things in all shapes and sizes). I added in one of my pocket watches and a paper crane I made for kicks and giggles, and I’m relatively happy with how it turned out overall.
The only real pain in the ass I ran into was the white text, and the sizing of the sub-title’s font. Beyond that, I’m going to make a note here: huge success (as well as a Portal reference successfully thrown in there for good measure). Thoughts?
Also, I ended up taking pictures of Meowiarty, too, because he seems to think he’s a model.
Here’s a fun bit of mostly-worthless knowledge: I’ve got mostly Moleskine notebooks. I blame one particular Edinboro English professor for this. They are, and remain, my favorite brand of notebook, if only because I’m very fond of the travel-sized ones.