Time to revisit some of my goals

Or “Oh god oh god I’m writing this in IE on my Surface and it feels so wrong.”

This past week, and I’m okay with saying this past week because I have no concept of day at this point, has had more than its fair share of reflection (or, rather, I’ve spent much of it reflecting; whatever). Back in January, as some of you may recall, I set some pretty lofty writing goals for myself. And then, because I never half-ass things (I either whole-ass them or go all over-achiever), I ended up writing an entire first draft of a novel by the time the Oscars aired. Since then, my writing has still been pretty consistent, and yet I’m not happy. I’ve not always made it a point to write every night, and I could very easily say the other difficulties in my life were to blame.

However, that sounds too much like an easy excuse. As a solution to this, I’m outlining some revised goals for myself here as a WordPress guilt-trip in the event I start slacking again.


I need to write at least one short story a week. Flash fiction, regular variety, or oh-shit-this-might-become-a-novel varieties all apply here, so long as I create some work of fiction that isn’t just a couple words strung together. Unless those words turn out to be really good, like those two sentence horror stories. I also want to write at least one post for Screen Robot or Magific (my latest writing gig), and at least three for Misadventures in Fiction. I realize the three post minimum on here may seem a bit lofty, but it’s a lot easier for me to vomit out my thoughts on here than it is to write a story sometimes. Also, I love my site so I have to give it plenty of attention so it doesn’t do what all neglect blogs do (take up a life of criminal inactivity).

Cutting back on pop

Before I even go any further, I was born near, and lived around, Pittsburgh most of my life, so it’s pop. You can disagree, but you’re wrong and also a jagoff*. I drink entirely too much pop for my own good, which is something of a difficult realization. I mean, I’m not saying I enjoy Mountain Dew more than the average consumer, but I am saying if someone were to try drawing blood there are days it would probably come out green and carbonated, and with fine print reading “Property of Pepsi-Co”. Tonight was a last hooray of sorts at Olive Garden, where I indulged in three glasses of Coke. I am a bit ashamed to admit that after not drinking pop yesterday and most of today, I already was able to savor the way the carbonation tickled at my tongue and the roof of my mouth or the taste and texture. When I go without pop for long enough, it might as well be the Nectar of the Gods as far as I’m concerned (save for diet varieties, which is the Sewer Water of the Gods).

However, and I make no efforts to hide this, I think I need to lose some weight. I’m a bit on the rotund side, in that some smaller people mistake me for a planet (I played Melancholia in the not-so-great movie-with-the-same-name). Cutting out sugary beverages, among other things, will help me shed a few pounds and maybe join Pluto in the League of Former Planets.

I’d also like to announce, before I forget again, that I will be posting live from Interventioncon this August (the 22nd through 24th). Preregistration prices are still available at http://www.interventioncon.com, so check it out.

There was more I wanted to say, but I’m distracted by the horrifying black clouds and too-close-for-comfort lightning strikes.

Slowly escaping a writing funk

I am, at least in my own mind, very good at coming up with excuses for things.  There are times in college when I couldn’t go to the bar because I had some big writing project due and I’d not started on it, which often involved a raid in World of Warcraft that required my attention.  I’ve excused myself from social obligations with some groups of friends to make my way to other ones in similar ways.

Lately I’ve been making excuses for not writing.  Work has me so tired, and I just can’t get my brain out of this fog.  My days off are so full of errands and household chores, and I do want to relax a little.  To properly appreciate those last couple sentences, imagine how hard I was kicking myself while I wrote them.  They’re lousy excuses, and they make me feel lousy.  Hell, even as I type this I’m trying to not say how being all tired and foggy after work is totally a legitimate excuse, and I shouldn’t feel as bad about it, which is and isn’t true in equal parts.

I bring these things up because, and I am a bit embarrassed to admit this, I have publishing envy as of late.  Two of my good friends are published authors, and I know more people than that who have been published in the past.  On its own, that feeling of envy is bad enough (only made worse by how annoyed I become with myself for feeling such jealousy).  And then there’s my magnificent, well-known tendency to be my own worst critic.  Yes.  Just like every other person who creates.  I’m aware.  I look at my writing, then at the works of other writers (published or not).  I get that feeling of never being quite as good with the written word, or a sense of how the stench of my overwhelming mediocrity could easily be used to fumigate a medium-sized house on a good day, and an opulent mansion on some of my worse ones.

The plan is to stop.  Stop with the envy, and the days of fretting my writing being bad.  Definitely the excuses (I mean, in regards to writing; no promises elsewhere).  At the very least, I’m going to work on remedying these things.  On a related note: I have what I think is a pretty cool idea for a scary story.  It’s almost October, which means I need to get ready for my usual month-long celebration of all things Halloween (read as I will be eating so much candy corn and caramel apple lollipops that all dentists within a five mile radius of my house will feel a sense of overwhelming dread).  What better way to get in the Halloween spirit than scary stories?

And other story and writing ideas have cropped up, too.  In short: onwards to MS Word!