It’s been a weird week as far as writing goes. There has been writing in the week – I did a fair bit at work, and some of it is kind of moving in the direction of a possible book eventually. I have been exploring how I feel about advertising, an industry I am now a part of, and a certain kind of thought seems to have been emerging, and a thought process shaped by the work I have done and the different things that I have read.
I like the voice that I write in for non-fiction, and I am sure that some aspects of it carry across into my poetry and fiction. I know what I want to convey and the way in which I wish to convey it. I don’t think I have the snark I used to necessarily, and the sarcasm may have dialled down, to be replaced by a desire to communicate directly and impinge on the reader. I always want to write beautiful sentences, even if the subject is not possessed of an intrinsic beauty.
One always wants to develop as a writer, and I definitely get challenged by the work that I do. It is great to have boundaries transgressed and redrawn. If you don’t travel to new places when you write, if it isn’t undiscovered country, then why would you even want to set out on the journey? Retreading old shit has always seemed a little tedious to me, and if the exercise has pointlessness knotted into its heart, then the thing is going to unravel in a very uninteresting way.
I am reaching the point in watching a TV show where I want it to end. We reached a point that seemed real and logical and would have been a good ending point. The part past that where a relationship that had been promised for a long time also seemed to make sense. Then it started to drag. I was kind of OK with where I thought it was all going when I was under the impression I had a few episodes left to watch, but then I saw that there is actually another whole series.
I am not sure where it can go from here that is going to provide satisfaction, but my intuition is, the fact that it is dragging means it is going to disappoint. I hope to never feel this about one of my own stories, and I think this is something that comes from writing serial TV shows with no real end in sight. You don’t actually stop the story yourself, as a writer, you just wait until the network axes you because people don’t want to watch anymore.
Why am I not telling you which show I am talking about? Because all this is relevant to this show, but to others too, and is a problem that I have, it seems with a lot of TV shows. This one might pan out. The character has grown and has had some believable development, but if they nix all that and throw it away on an unconvincing ending I am going to be really disappointed. I won’t lie – I saw an SNL skit that took off the structure of this show, and it ruined the show for me for a long time. I get that a character, for the show to provide certain ingredients everyone has come to expect, needs to react the same way to certain situations to tick certain boxes of viewer expectation, but it can’t run roughshod over character growth and expect us to remain happy.
And that is where I am going to leave this undisclosed target focused piece … in the limbo I am currently in until I slog through the remainder of the 7th season, and edge into the 8th. Wish me luck.
Life is fun. Shh, it’s a secret … don’t tell anyone, just in case they start to enjoy the bloody thing. I found out and I am sharing it with you here because you read me and that means that I like you.
OK, so one of the things that me and my girlfriend do is we play games, and because we are both wonderfully nerdy and super freaking intelligent, we play lots of word games. Well, for the last couple of mornings we have been pointing out objects or people and we have been making up stories about them. Why? Well, shit, just to reiterate something that I bang on and on about all the time … we do it because it is fun.
Doing little exercises like this helps you with your writing. It does. There is no such thing as writing block, really. Ah, but you say, I know there is because I have experience it for myself. No – you stopped writing, that really does mean, as Warren Ellis suggests, that you are not a writer. In order to be a writer one must write.
Sitting there and waiting for someone or something to wave a magic wand and make an idea suddenly appear in your mind is not the way. What you have to do is pick up your chisel and start chipping away at the block of marble. And if you fuck up? You know what? Hmm, there are a shit ton of other blocks of marble out there that you can take your chisel to. Keep smacking the shit out of those blocks of marble and smacking the shit out of those chisels until something good comes along. If nothing good comes along and you don’t end up with something readable and good, and you aren’t having fun, and you are crying into your beer? Give up ya big crybaby because you aren’t a writer.
Impromptu games are the building blocks of life and they are the building blocks of writing. Don’t believe me? Just stop being serious for a day – stop sitting there and think think thinking and have some bloody fun, see if you don’t end up with something worthwhile.
I think that 50 poems is a good cut off point for a themed poetry book … it gives the theme plenty of space to stretch its legs, but it doesn’t outstay its welcome.
I do like big books that I can sink my teeth into, but sometimes I do think brevity might have been a better modus operandi. Knowing when to leave the scene of a crime is a very important skill.
I used to be academia verbose, but a stint in journalism training cut that out like the unnecessary chaff that it is. I, of course love words, and have a fondness for the multisyllabic, but sometimes you just need to say it and cut out the bullshit.
I have a few different aesthetics that I wish to push in my work, and I have a hankering for something really epic as far as the poetry goes … a whole book of one poem, maybe a hundred pages long; maybe my Iliad or something equally pompous … I always had this theory that artists try to emulate that first piece of work they fall in love with, and mine was The Wasteland by T. S. Eliot. My multipart book series should also dawn at some point. Maybe some extracts here? Who knows?
I had a good day today at work … I knocked out an inordinate amount of writing on a subject that is not that inspiring, so why mention it here? Anyway, it was a great exercise, and as I have said before, writing some of that really hard to chew copy means that when it comes to writing stuff which engages my creativity a little more, I feel like I am sprinting along.
This year needs to be the one where I break the back of one of the longform pieces that I have been working on for God knows how long. If I tell you that I have a novel that I have been working on since I was 15 – it had been rewritten a few times, obviously – then you get some idea of how long I have been struggling with this form. Last year was a fallow one for collections being put out, and this new year is going to present different challenges because I am seriously thinking that I want to change the print on demand company that I use. The one I have been using up until now doesn’t seem to care about providing any kind of customer service, so I don’t really want to be a customer any longer.
A Reality Engineer is resolving into its ending, and is maybe a month away from completion at the outside … closer, I hope. 2013’s nanowromo novel hit the 50,000 word mark so doesn’t need a drastic amount of work to get it in shape for publishing. November 2014 gave me 2 interconnected novels that are about halfway done, and January gave me a 3rd to be getting along with, that aren’t a trilogy in the sense that they follow sequentially from each other or anything, more in the sense that they interleave with each other and build out the mythology that I have been developing.
And speaking of mythologies I have a new one coming called HATS that I am kind of excited about. I want to finish off Weapon Eyes, Sir. Walking The Metafloor, and Warhole are totally feasible to be finished in the next 6 months, and then what? Lots of poetry. If I say 50 books then you can believe me, because a lot of you have seen my output. And I feel the quality is in on all of it because people keep readings to and telling me so, and I have no yes men massaging my ego, so I am pretty confident in this.
Ortoematic Volume 1 has been in the editing stages for an aeon. Monkeyspank has been waiting on illustrations for an age. The are a couple of volumes of Tales Of The Knotlands ready to go but for the illustrations. There are some other short story collections too. As I always say, plenty of things to be finishing, and that is what I mean to do. Watch this space.
Sometimes I feel kind of sluggish and a little solid and I think, whatever I write is going to come across that way, so I don’t write. It’s kind of odd, because surely that state of mind and the viewpoints that would result from it are just as valid, aren’t they?
I start to write and I realise that, imagining something, or working up an argument for a piece, frees my mind and allows me to go onwards, and expand out of that limited reach of solid.
I am a spiritual person, and a thinker, and my writing is one of the vehicles I use to express this. I enjoy it … I know I say that repeatedly, but it’s true.
Today is a little rushed here, but I want to start writing more expansive pieces here soon.
It is kinda funny to miss writing on a blog called Regular Movement because of moving. I have been in the same house for 5 years, but my new house is most definitely a home already. Sure, it needs sorting out, but the whole process feels like a lot of fun.
I am getting all my books moved in and the bookcases positioned, and I am establishing a workspace. We are also working time into our busy schedules to do the all important art and writing which is a vital part of our lives.
It is more than nice to be so simpatico with your partner, and to have such a similar sensibility. I know that my art is only going to improve because of this. Having a solid base is actually the key … anyone that thinks that chaos is preferable, or that drugging and drinking is going to be conducive to creativity in the long run, if they even want a career with longevity, is kidding themselves.
I used to think that I needed someone to challenge me and be against me in order for me to create something, but in the end that only really shuts you down, and it becomes increasingly unpleasant to have to deal with.
No one wants “yes men” surrounding them, but people who are permanently negative are equally unwanted. Positivity wins out for me, and the work gets better by coming from a more stable place.