Showing posts with label crazy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crazy. Show all posts

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I feel compelled to post.

Well, my co-writer just posted a screaming fit about writing being hard... and I FULLY AGREE.
I have been considering this problem at great lengths, as to why, something as seemingness as pulling words out of your head and smushing them onto a page, should be so difficult, and I have reached a few conclusions...
Writing is, indeed, an art form.  If you dun nots so guds in teh be wazs ovs ritings uses iz nuts guds at all.  Or even if you chose simple words that look good but don't add all the right punctuation to the sentence causing the reader a very difficult time in deciphering what you have written, you aren't creating something that is easy, and in some ways, beautiful to look at.  When you write, regardless of the inlet and outlet, you have to produce something that is easy to read, easy to understand, and conveys your message, whether it be a story about a dragon, or instruction on how to repair a car.  This might seem easy, at first, but once you have slogged yourself into a deep, meaning project, it becomes quite taxing on your perspicuity.  That sentence, for example, took me about two minutes to get correct.  That one took about two seconds.  See the difference?
Writing is like painting a picture when you have nothing.  You have an idea, but first you must make the canvas, the paints, even the brush.
I admit, painting is much different then writing, but imagine if you had to create the stand of all your paints, then the paint brushes, then the canvas, then the stand for the canvas to sit on, then the water to clean the brushes, and then finally, you could paint... but if you ever ran out of a color, you had to make more....
What me and my co-author are experiencing is that part, right there.  We took the time to make the canvas, the brushes, and all the paint... but then we ran out of a few colors... so we had to stop painting, and make those colors... the only problem is, by the time we finished doing that... we forgot what we were painting... So now we start again, from the middle of the beginning.
The easy summery of why writing something like a novel, or a professional body of work, is so difficult is because you are creating an entire world... This world has rules and laws, like our own, some of which will bend and some of which will brake.  Inside this world, you have people and things, doing stuff with each other, all for different reasons, and those reasons are your story.  You have to explain why those people are, what those things are, and why those people care about those things and why those things are so important... See, it gets confusing, and difficult to remember.
I guess what I am saying in my sleep-deprived state is:
Writing is like any other art... if you look at your canvas and feel the need to vomit, or do massive amounts of drugs, then that time is not the time to be painting.  The same goes for writing... if you want to hurt yourself when you look down at that blank page of paper, then everything you write will be garbage, simply because, your mind is attempting to get away from it, to stop doing it, or simply forget about it.  And as we all know from High School... if you mind doesn't want to do it, it will find a way not too, regardless of the consequence.
Now I would like to believe that when we get published, this problem will be a bit easier to deal with, if for no other reason because I will have the gratification of saying I am now published, plus the support of all those helping me to publish my work... but for now, all I have is my dreams and delusions... and they are, unfortunately, becoming one-in-the-same.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I LOVE SANDMAN!

I think I am allowed to say that, I don't have any allegiance... yet.  But anyway, I was Fluther.com today and one of my favorite friends came back for a visit and her name is Delirium based on The Sandman's Character.  So I added my two cents to the mix with this little blurb\rant:

My muse is of the utmost majesty. I listen only to Despair, for her wonderful hook finds its way into my side everyday. Its sting is like a blanket, a shawl of twisted love.
Or is it perhaps Desire that I follow? For if there were not desire to suffer, I would have no muse, but then, as it is said, all things come from Dream, for to want is to dream, so then I must conclude that my muse is only but The Lord Shaper, Himself:
Morpheus.


I LOVE SANDMAN!

In order of Comic's I am addicted too:
1) 2) 3) and 4) NausicaƤ Of The Valley Of The Wind
5) Transmetropolitan 
6) The Sandman and anything that involves The Sandman world.

Monday, October 27, 2008

I have discovered something.

I have been trying to find inspiration for the novel.  So I have turned on the TV and the first thing to pop on screen was Ben 10.  I watched an episode and realized something:
When the novels are finished and so are the movie(s) I am going to write children's TV shows.  Why?  Because it is ridiculously easy.  American cartoons are far to fluffy.  I'm not saying that is a bad thing, but in my option they are not showing how smart you actually have to be to be a "hero."
For example, in this episode, what I can only describe as a half-mech half-illithid, attacked the boy named Ben.  He used his watch thingie to change into a "hero" and saved his father, after his house was UTTERLY decimated.  They then move into the center of the city were all hell brakes lose and a bunch of people are shot... at... none of the precision bullets fired from the percision weapons hit anyone, except this one guy who I think got shot, then flew into the air like a bad video game.  Well Ben and  and his family take some super guns and kill the flying robots, really, really, easy.  Then the Mech-Squid shows up and, standing in plain-sight starts to monolog (although in his defense he is invincible and can't be killed, but I didn't know that at this point) Well, long story short, the kids stand around and let him monolog, not even pointing the guns at him.  So after he is done a girl comes in and blows up the corner of the building he is on with her super powers and he falls into some ruble.  No one bothers rushing over and OPENING FIRE ON THE RUBBLE!  For gods sake, I don't care that no one can die but the bad guy, but come on!  Point the damn gun at him and start shooting.  He is there to F***ING KILL YOU!?!? SHOT HIM FIRST!
That is why I love anime.  Sure a lot of it is hilariously over the top, but at least in the more "adult" cartoons, people don't stand around like idiots.
I mean "adult" as in more mature hero's like Full Metal Alchemist not Shin-Chan.

Friday, October 17, 2008

I return. I think?

I do not feel compelled at this time to write anything here.  Why?  No one reads it... Yet.  When I start to see people reading and\or commenting on my Blog, then I will be more inclined to update it.  Although I must say as I get closer to finishing the manuscript I will probably be compelled (read: forced) to update this thing every few _hours_ by my co-author.  Till then, I suppose I will _attempt_ to stay up to date, but seeing as I and my co-author are the only ones to see this at the moment, what is the point?  She already knows what is going threw my head.

Here is currently what is going threw my head:
Will this thing ever get done?  It's been to long to write the first Novel, how the hell are we going to do six more?

Thursday, September 18, 2008

A saying by me:

"What does it mean when you watch your muse jump out a window when you ask for ideas?"
"Your an asshole?"
"Oh."

Monday, September 15, 2008

LOL, science is AWESOME!

So I am siting at home, watching TV, when this program called NextWorld.  It is one of those "here are all the things that we think will change the world, but they really won't for hundreds of years, if ever," shows.  Still pretty interesting though.  Anyway, one of the individuals they are interviewing stated, and I quote, "Imagine taking a pill every day, maybe not even that often, to prevent the diseases of age."

He was talking about the "Kill Switch" idea, stating that our genes actually tell us when to start to die.  Anyway, if you want to know more, just watch the show, but I just find it funny, whether he was joking or not, that there are, in fact, people that believe aging IS a disease.  So all you super models, FEAR NOT! The cure for your face is on the way!

PS, according to these scientists, Red Wine will make you live longer, so... DRINK MORE!

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Recipe for writing a novel.

1 cup of music;
2 tons of meat and flesh, congealed into the form of humans;
10 pounds of brain matter, tenderized;
1 car load of night time;
a full moon;
an bakers dozen of sleep depravation;
1 laptop;
a "fire hazard" worth of candles;
and sode-pop;

Insert the two tons of human flesh blobs into the the music, mixed with the bakers dozen of sleep depravation and the full moon.  Bake for 2 to 3 hours, then insert candles, laptop, and a night I won't soon forget (not in a sexual way but an awesome, 'OMG!' kind of way.)

Result; Awesome.

For once, in a very, very, VERY, long time, I am happy again.  But, always is it tainted with what I am, who I am, and what I have done.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Want to know what it feels like to get a work of fiction published?

Writing the book is easy, ya, but getting it out on the shelf is as painful as attaching a Guinea Pig directly to your scrotum, then force feeding it bananas laced with PCP, mixed with the pure distilled essence of evil and hate of a wolverine in heat, then subjecting the Guinea Pig to a strip-dance given by a shaved monkey that was crossbred with the fruit of the ugly tree.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Yet another quote!

"I am the Gay Jesus."-T. T. Davidson.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

I want to write...

So I want to write, if not more on the script, then something here in the blog, however I can't think of anything to write.  So, rather then start ranting in the middle of my script, I decided to come here and just start typing, about anything that happens to fall out of my fingers and into the computer.
Wow, I just realized how much faster I can write with the MacBook Air I have, then with any other computer I use.  That is sweet.  I am just glad I have it back.  I dung-gone-"F"ed this thing up good, along with a blessed plague upon my person.  I am blown away about how stable the Mac was, I could have probably continued using it until it literally blown the "F" up.  But I chose to let Mac fix it, seeing as it was still under their awesome, "you brake it, we fix it" coverage.  I feel so violated, seeing as I have always done my own computer repairs.  I suppose I could have done it myself, but seeing as if something goes catastrophic on here, I want to be able to fix it.

I am a control freak like that.  I like being in absolute control and I believe the worst punishment for me would be any situation where I have absolutely no power.  I suppose that is why I hate what I am, who I am, and what I feel.  Because when I feel, and when I think, and when I try to go out and live, I always lose control.  I can't stand it, I hate it, and it drives me very crazy to know that is happening to me.  I wish I could get my mind in order, but seeing as I am pretty sure I have Split-Personality or EXTREM Bio-Polar Syndrome it is going to take a long time, if ever, to fix and\or organize.  Unless the machine in "Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind" is real.  In which case, if someone could give me a business card and a number to call to make an appointment, that would be fantastic.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Told ya we where screwed.

So the way I see it, having destroyed the world before, I choose something more flashy this time around, because explosions are cool.  The way I see it, we are damned if we do, damned if we don't because something is going to make us do, even if we don't want to do.

Proof:

Toxoplasma Gondii Parasite Mind Control - How could a tiny parasite influence the behavior of an entire organism?

See? aren't you glad I went with something more flashy, with more hot guys blowing shit right-the-f up, oh and hot girls too, can't forget them. I have to admit, the above article would make for a much more realistic and even more terrifying novel, but like I said, I like explosions and hot guys causing those explosions. Not a cell that eats a neuron, then makes you attracted to cats.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

This is my Beginning for The End.

Here within... or perhaps, here... above... below?  Oh wait! I know!
Here with-on this blog I shall rant on all aspects of my life... from the processes of being a writer... or rather "creative suggestive engineer" to the aspects of being a photographer with little to no talent, but more within my head then the world could ever hold.  I shall rant of the joys of being a screen writer and in time, hopefully, a director. That is, when I am not cutting myself deep in the abdomen, in a desperate attempt at realizing that though I bleed, I can not die, for my co-writer would steal my soul and entomb it within a pickle bottle.

I have bipolar syndrome, split personality, and I am pretty sure I am part crazy, at least one of the personalities is a nut job.  So at any moment I may snap and write something completely uncharacteristic, however I see a problem with that statement... If I have split persona, then is it still uncharacteristic to write something that still comes from my mind?  Which character is the normal and which is the false?  Keep reading and who knows, we both might find out.

So I suppose, in summery, I am living proof that all great artists hate themselves and are absolutely bat-shit, nuts in a basket, jump off a bridge, play in traffic, crazy, and apparently self-centered and narcissistic.

"And, here... we... go."
      ---Joker---