wish you were here

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a long-ass time, but I’ve been either lazy or busy or both. (Usually both.) But now all of us Clarion ‘07 alumni are getting our nostalgia on, and now that I’m working on a few things, I wanted to write about personality in writing stories.

Ever since last year, I’ve been thinking about one of our sessions where I was getting a story critiqued, and the story that I’d workshopped was set in an urban fantasy setting that could be silly and kitchy, but I went a little more seriously with this particular piece. And I can remember there was a theme of disappointment from the other folks because in real life I come across as an entertaining person, kinda funny, and yet I’d turned in this story that was totally not reflective of my personality.

Now, let me mention that looking back on the story, and after having revised it, I kinda agreed with that assessment, but I still struggle a little with the idea that just because a writer has a certain personality in person, we expect that personality to be ever-present in their writing.

I’ve experienced this with a lot of performance poets, obviously. There are the really serious, beautiful poets who are just jokey off the mic, and the really funny folks who are just beautiful and serious because they’re not “on” when they’re onstage. Me? I’m a little of the gray area– I have funny poems and sad poems and a few that incorporate both.

But I guess for me, being funny is just how I gauge people, how I try to figure out where I am in a group of folks. I try to make other people laugh because I don’t like to dwell on the bad things when I’m around other people. So when I’m writing stories, I’m trying to work out the really serious crap so that I don’t have to be the brooding writer that seems so easy to stereotype.

And, honestly, I think that being funny on paper– I mean, humor flowing easily on the page– is more difficult that confronting your shadow self on that same page. I believe that everyone can be funny in some way or another, but trying to make that work in a story is a tricky skill. I don’t know.

And, well, maybe I just don’t feel like writing funny stories. So there!

Goodnight, George Carlin.

Lots of things to write about. And this post is going to be all over the place, so watch out. Actually, let’s break this down into parts.
Continue reading about - right.

Tim Russert, WTF?

Right. I had this idea of writing this multi-part, crazy-long, epic series of posts about my 20s that was going to give me some perspective into turning 30. I even wrote some ideas down, some key moments that happened in the 10 years from 20 to 30, that would’ve made it a really long and probably not very engaging read.

The long and the short of it is this: my 20s started with losing my virginity on the same bed I was conceived on, and ended with almost all of my good friends (all the ones in Vegas, anyway) at my brother’s house, eating and drinking homemade margaritas and shots of Washington Red Apples, listening to the Old School Hip-Hop station and playing poker.

I mean, if you want to ask me about anything, go right ahead. I might answer it.

The past two weeks have been completely almost useless as far as running, and I know I’ve gained a bit. I don’t like it, but what can you do when you’re sniffly and sneezy and coughy? It’s not like I can actually run like that. Even though I’m totally motivated to. I was even supposed to go hiking today, but that went out the window as soon as I got the sniffles. But lots of OJ and water and Zycam are helping to ease the pressure.

Which means I haven’t been doing any work at all. I’ve been thinking about things, which is productive in its own way, but nothing’s been set down. I feel bad about it, but when you can’t really feel your head for all the crap in your sinuses and lungs, it really doesn’t make you feel all that jazzed about writing.

So, I’m sick. Tried to stay home today, and haven’t been able to sleep like I did yesterday. That might be a good thing, if I’m getting better. I feel slightly better from yesterday. I’ll probably feel better tomorrow.

A song I love right now: “Momentary Drowning” by Young Coyotes. Reminds me of all of you.

Also, in the spirit of trying to get my pen moving, some long lost lyrics that I just wrote last night. (I finally got to see Once last week and got reminded how much I fucking love Glen Hansard and The Frames.) Felt like I was 17 again, sitting in my bedroom. Weird.

Continue reading about - well.

I have a lot to blog about, but I’m just not finding the energy at the moment. It’ll try and come in snippets this week.

So I had a freelance gig up until today. Even sent out questions for interviews and everything. I mean, why would we go back and forth on emails when you’re just going to give it to someone else? WTF?

Whatever. It’s my birthday, and I’m going to do work on stuff I really want to do anyway.

I don’t know who this Steve Judd guy is, but this sounds pretty good.

Today’s new Moon in your sign brings the chance to begin again, to close the door finally on those crazy years of the early 2000’s, and to safely initiate new developments and projects knowing that there’s going to be no new opposition to your plans. Anything undertaken or started today should work out in your favour; the only way you can shoot yourself in the foot is by talking instead of doing! So, as Goethe said, ‘whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it now’. Actions occasionally speak louder than words, and now is definitely one of these times.

I actually have a plan for a major retrospective post, but it’s slow in coming. I’m revising, cooking ideas, and working on some band profiles. Soon, though.

Jesus. Bo Diddley, too?

That Death girl’s been busy these days.