Tag Archives: venting

The Place Without a (Domain) Name

Posted on by under Posts of a Rant-like Nature

Update: major thanks to WordPress for working to restore my domain name. Though how much this means is questionable: that gesture was enough to ensure Misadventures In Fiction stays with WordPress for the foreseeable future.

Tonight, I decided, was the night to renew my WordPress domain. I’d been putting it off because of holiday expenses and bills and so on, all of which are things I didn’t want to admit but are now moot points anyway. WordPress immediately reminded me upon logging in that misadventuresinfiction.com had expired as of two months ago, and that I should renew it.

“That’s the plan,” I said to my computer in the way I talk to my computer, except with less swearing about how shitty my WiFi is at any given time (Thanks, Comcast).

The domain name was already in my cart, ready to buy. I just had to enter my new debit card info, right? Right?! And then I sat back, relaxed, and got an error message that made no sense to me. “Enter your first name.”

You mean like the thing I had entered with my card information? I’m pretty sure that Philip is my first name, as it’s been something I’ve had for twenty-nine years now. I hit Enter again, only to be told my Credit Card info is incorrect. I checked the number I’d entered against my card, and it matched perfectly.  Continue reading →

A return to journal writing

Posted on by under One Hundred Days of Blogging 2.0

Last night was riddled with technical difficulties from my laptop and a noteworthy absence of motivation to write anything at all. Let the record show that lack of motivation continues to linger tonight, which is frustrating but something I’m also pushing past. Go me (and the impressive, unstoppable power of my stubbornness). I’m presently looking forward to tomorrow, which will be partially spent getting a much-needed (and deserved) haircut and wandering around Barnes & Noble. Any suggestions for graphic novels, or novels in general, are always appreciated. One can never have too many books.

Right. So last night I found myself tremendously frustrated. Writing wasn’t happening in any way, shape, or form. I tried different approaches to A Princess, A Lich, and Some Murders, hoping desperately to add to the current word count but only failing to do so. Eventually, accepting the night as a defeat, I closed Microsoft Word. It occurred to me that I’d not checked on when The Literary Hatchet‘s next deadline was, and since I planned on submitting “Cordelia’s” I figured I should check…only to discover I’d missed said deadline. While I generally try to shy from this word, my reaction was a rather loud and appropriate utterance of “Oh, fuck”.

At some point or another, right before heading to bed, I decided it would be beneficial for me to return to journal writing. Not necessarily as a nightly thing, necessarily. I also happened to have my awesome Discworld/Starry Night crossover cover notebook, which had not seen use since it’s purchase. This, in case it needs repeating, is a crime I am regularly guilty of with notebooks. Making matters worse, I plan on stopping by Barnes & Noble tomorrow. That means I could very well come home with another Moleskine notebook. The journal in question, complete with its Squishable guardian, can be seen below.

Squishthulu guards my deep, dark secrets.

Squishthulu guards my deep, dark secrets.

Not only have I forgotten how helpful keeping a journal is for venting frustrations, but I managed to forget its terrific applications as a means to remind myself of all of the positive things I have going on. Not everything in its pages has to be doom-and-gloom, cloudy-with-a-chance-of-bitching sorts of frustrations (that was a horrible joke and I’m not sorry). It’s a reminder that I’m working on more than just one project presently, and that there will be some nights when my brain simply doesn’t wish to cooperate with me in working on one project or another. Those nights are not the end of the world, nor do they render me any less of a writer.

Suffice it to say, I’m already happy with this decision after only one entry. I can only imagine how therapeutic this will prove in the long run.

How many of you write in journals? Is it on a regular basis, or more sporadic, and is there a particular topic in mind or is it more just whatever’s on your mind at the time?

Monday Mayhem

Posted on by under Posts of a Rant-like Nature, Short Stories

There is a small, albeit moderately insane, portion of my mind that is convinced today was a test, for me from the Universe, to see just how many times I could string together expletives in the course of one sentence. If we take into consideration that I am a man whose verbosity and capacity for complex sentences is, at its best times, unrivaled, I would dare estimate that the total curse words I managed to cram into one sentence would max out around sixty. If I were actually keeping track of that sort of thing, anyway.

I’ve ranted plenty on Twitter already. I vented to my girlfriend. I even considered researching possible ways to bring about Armageddon (which, to the relief of many, is beyond my capabilities at present). Out of some weird, misplaced mercy, I will spare the additional ranting for other outlets. Let me just leave this portion of the post off with this open-ended question: why is it the universe is most prone to go to shit on Mondays? Ignoring the business of it being after a weekend, because some of us work on weekends.

My brain is a touch soft today. Whether it’s because I burned myself out writing three short stories and a blog post last night, or how the forces of stupid really stepped up their game today, I don’t know. I do know I don’t like this lack of motivation very much, as it puts a real damper on my ability to focus on anything at all (there’s a shock).

However, as a sudden plot-twist to this post, and thanks to some Twitter-chatter with @MortuaryReport, this story happened. I realize this is a rather abrupt transition into a short story that could have never happened, but that’s sort of how I do things on days like today. This is how I managed to be creative and destructive, all at once. It, like any story that happens out of nowhere, may have gotten a bit (and by a bit I mean extremely) ridiculous. I’m not sorry.

Continue reading →

There are days I just don’t feel like writing

Posted on by under Misadventures in Non-Fiction

Or “How I’m keeping my promise to myself that I’d write every day while still something something words. I’m not feeling well, I’m tired, and I’m grumpy, damn it.”

There are days I can’t stop myself from writing. If I did stop, I know the worlds and their respective characters would build up to the point my head would break open and let those many oddities spill out. The whole thing would be a terrible mess, really, so I choose to write instead. However, and despite my best efforts, there are still days something in my brain just says how this writing just isn’t working out. At all.

This is one of those days, and it’s probably one of the biggest bothers I know. I hate it, because I could easily justify skipping sleeping, meals, and social obligations (and if you’re one of my closest friends, you’d be the sort of person who would understand and encourage such unfortunate binge-writing sessions). If I didn’t get so damned loopy after going a day without sleep, I think my choices would be obvious here.

Naturally, today’s one such day where I can’t seem to get any creative thoughts. They’re on hiatus, maybe. Or perhaps they’re waiting for later on, once I go to bed, which is not a thought I’m entirely okay with given my subconscious’ tendency to go all-out with nightmares. No, thanks.

On the plus side, and perhaps this is some misplaced optimism of a sort, I don’t feel burnt out yet. I’ve been writing, even if only just a little, every day since I made the promise to myself I would, and I’m still feeling pretty good about that. I’m not getting anywhere in terms of publishing yet, but I will.

However, I should be getting some sleep because I’m sick. Not until I pick which Hogwarts house I’d reside in, though. Priorities, people. I’ve got serious priorities.