My computer's wallpaper has a particular date on it, August 23rd. Below it, the words 'Never Forget' are written, put there as more of an inspirational message than as a literal reminder.
I wear a cross now. Religious folks who got to know me would probably not think of me as a religious person, and I don't suppose I am. Hell, a guy I knew in the way back once said, verbatim, "I can't believe you're a Christian". The cross I wear is not for religious inspiration. The cross I wear is the reminder. People a lot better than me have had it a lot worse than me for reasons that don't even approach 'fair', and it's easy to forget that sometimes.
As far as being religious goes, well... I always kind of figured that 'acting religious' would be like sobering up specifically to go to court for a drunk driving charge. Everyone could see through it anyway, and it wouldn't help me in the long run. I have a lot of personality flaws, and I'm working on them. Do I care what people think about them? Not particularly. But at the same time I don't want to raise anyone's ire or offend anyone without the intent to do so. This is why I don't mind when religious people judge me. I probably deserve it.
Tomorrow I have another job interview. I think that makes... the fifth one in about three and half months. I won't count the second interview that the sit-down restaurant gave me on the day I thought I was coming into work, because all they did was rehash some questions, act awkward, and send me out with a maybe. This interview is a formality, I think, because I've actually worked at this place once before, and they're shorthanded. Besides, everyone needs an ox at work, and though it won't pay much at all, I can at least use it to look for something better. Trying to improve myself, and all.
I don't remember the quote exactly, help me out if you know the original source. I actually heard it on a pro wrestling show and I thought it was pertinent. "As long as you tout your misfortunes, they will own you." (not verbatim, it's 4:30 am and my memory is out drinking) I'm going to try to start living by that, a little bit more.
Whether or not you believe in Jesus Christ and his crucifixion, you have to believe in the scores of Christians who were nailed to crosses for their beliefs so long ago. They had it worse than me, you know. This cross I wear is a reminder.
Today I wove celtic knots out of wire. Tomorrow I'll do it again, hopefully better. And then, when I do it as well as I can, I'll do something else.
You know I love you all, even if I don't show it. Except you, reading this. *jests*
Going back to college, writing more stuff, disliking southern kentucky... same old!
Edit on the previous post. Apparently "Okay... come in on Tuesday at three" meant "Okay... come in on Tuesday at three and we're going to interview you again. No, we don't actually hire you, the general manager does. No you can't talk to her. We'll let you know after we string you along for another week or two."
Still smiling. But it takes more effort today.
Still trying new writing stuff, but the news for me is that I *finally* found a job. It only took about three months. ^^ The job market in my area is awful unless you know someone who can help, and I don't. But yeah! Job gooooood.
Submitted work to Glimmer Train Stories today. Wish me luck. ^^
More writing contests to try. And then the groupies! With my luck they'll be hungry bengal tigers.
Won't be around until 11pm eastern standard time.
I picked up a copy of Analog: Science Fiction and Fact at the bookstore yesterday. Primarily due to the fact that it was the first literary magazine I had ever seen in any bookstore in my area ever, but also due in part to the nifty cover art. For six dollars (U.S.) I got a 240-page book with four short stories, four novellettes, a novella, and something called a 'serial' all by authors I've never heard of, plus a bunch of industry articles and reader-input jiggies. I just started the first story, Witherspin by Alexis Glynn Latner, and am thus far impressed with the way ingenuity and novelty are woven into sci-fi cliche. ^^ And at that price (which is amazingly reasonable considering that I paid $36 US for a four-issue subscription to Glimmer Train Stories magazine, especially since newsstand prices are always higher) I get bite-sized offerings from authors I may or may not like. This way I don't have to invest myself in something that might make we want to throw the book at the wall, like I did with Moreta, Myst, and The Lair of Bones. And, if it turns out that I enjoy the author's work, I can look hir up. I'm quite pleased with this.
Another note to everyone. Yard sales are even worse than flea markets. Cripes. Unless of course you like sore feet for a pittance.
Note to everyone: The Yakety Sax may be the single greatest piece of music ever written. It makes me laugh just hearing it... not the derisive 'ha ha, good lord, how can these twits call themselves musicians' laugh that rap and 'death metal' gets, but a real, genuine, amused laugh.
Tomorrow morning I'm sending off a manuscript to Asimov's Science Fiction magazine. Here's hoping.
Today's method of waking up: younger brother trying to turn my locked doorknob, then proceeding to pound on the door.
"Travis, what are you doing?"
Normally, I would've explained my current immersion in ark-building. However, I was too tired to be cute, so I actually said, in the form of a question "I'm sleeping?"
"You called the cell phone, like, five times."
In my sleep, apparently. Now if I could learn to do manual labor in my sleep too, I could get a lot more stuff done in a day.
"The parents want you to clean the kitchen, I'm gonna go out."
Me: zzz... Two minutes later, I hear someone pounding on the back door of the house for a solid ten seconds, and finally resign myself to getting up.
My genius brother, locked himself out of the house.
In writing new, I figured that, since most of my difficulties in novelling lie in the white noise sections (most people call this 'filler'), I would just try to write the major scenes first, and then fill in the noise. It worked astonishingly well, as I wrote about three times as much as I do in a normal night, and actually spent less time at the computer overall. Yay fresh tactics. ^^
Bereft of new things *that looked promising* to read, I broke down and picked up a Terry Goodkind book. Normally I avoid writers of massive series, but my brother had been suggesting this one for some time, and I figured I'd give it a shot.
In the seventeen pages I read during a short sit on a bench, this book Wizard's First Rule is already better by far than the last book I picked up, which was The Iron Tree by Cecillia Dart-Thornton. One hundred and sixty-six pages into that book I put it down, having no more patience for descriptions of plants. ^_^ But we'll see where this goes.
Define Art, Moorn.
Moorn: Oh, I suppose art is pretty much anything these days.
How do you mean?
Moorn: Well, there are medical arts, literary arts, social arts, liberal arts, martial arts, visual arts, aural arts, arts and crafts, modern art, classical art...
Are you coming to a point?
Moorn: No, not really. But we are talking about art.
So you're saying that art is just a meandering tool of the vernacular, used to explore the meaning of anything requiring dedication, perseverance, and creativity?
Moorn: No, you missed the point.
You had one?
Moorn: No.
Then how did I miss the point?
Moorn: Obviously, you didn't catch it. Therefore you missed it.
But I didn't miss it, so obviously I caught it.
Moorn: Well, did you catch it?
There was nothing to catch.
Moorn: So you didn't catch anything?
... no.
Moorn: Then you missed it.
... I hate you.
Moorn: My point exactly.
Speculative Fiction: Fiction that, uh, speculates.
Any thoughts on this? The term sort of supercedes 'fantasy' and 'science fiction' as respective genres these days, though it remains primarily a term that covers the ground science fiction used to. I like it, I do, but at the same time, it feels a bit... hm. Unnecessary.
This is definitely one of those nights where trying just doesn't seem worth the effort. Not worth it at all.
The new roleplay at Hasu Vale is set to start tomorrow (Thursday, April 27th). Anyone who is interested needs to speak with [Mister Saint] or [La Divina] and check out the game stage at Hasu Vale.
This is a free-form RPG, no numbers involved, set in a fantasy-esque world. Any kind of well-developed character should be allowed (if you aren't sure, ask!) and this will be a partially plot-driven game. Hope to hear from you!
In my dreams, I saw a man walk calmly into the bookstore. He browsed around for a moment, and then when the line at the counter dwindled, he stepped calmly up.
"Hi, did you find what you were looking for?" The buxom young brunette in the serving wench's outfit (this was MY dream after all) inquired of him, looking away from her gold-framed picture of me just long enough to wipe up her drool from the counter.
"Yes, can you help me fix my refrigerator? It's broken, and I need it fixed. Help me out."
The vivacious vixen tilted her head, to the sound of empty cans rattling about in her head. "This is a bookstore, sir, maybe you should try the appliance center across the way."
The man smiled and nodded. He walked away, but came back a moment later.
"Look, I need that refrigerator fixed now, it's killing me! Please fix it for me!"
The poor half-naked clerk had no idea how to deal with this problem.
"Sir, we don't fix refrigerators.
"I WANT HELP HELP ME MY REFRIGERATOR IS BROKEN AND I CAN'T FIX IT I DON'T KNOW HOW AND I CAN'T JUST GET A NEW ONE!"
Eyes wide in fear of what this dingaling might have planned, the suddenly-bikin
Okay, so maybe I didn't actually dream that. But it feels kind of right, doesn't it?
Attenton, roleplayer types. [La Divina] and [Mister Saint] are organizing what we hope to be a fairly large-scale game here on WritersCo, and we invite anyone who is interested to attend. The primary setting goes something like this.
When the genie Etinifni Infinite built the Redwood Light Tavern, a certain book of fairy tales was accidentally lost in the magical field surrounding this particular hall. The five gates in this hall were supposed to link to existing worlds via a complex set of spells, but instead, several pages from the fairy tale book were pulled into each gate. The worlds that were born from the pages very closely, but not perfectly, mimic the tales told in the book, and on occasion, produce their share of trouble for those in the Redwood Light.
We have five worlds for your adventuring pleasure, based on classic fairy tales, each twisted and slapped around a little bit to suit. Characters will explore in search of the ominous force that is stealing all of the original pages - and therefore, stealing the life from each of these worlds - or just hang around with the colorful cast and crew of the Redwood Light, singing songs, getting sloshed, and avoiding whatever cataclysm decides to show its at the time.
The game requires dedicated, medium - advanced level players, and while previous roleplay experience is preferable, it is not a requirement. If you are interested, please contact [La Divina] or [Mister Saint] with a link to your chosen character's sheet if you have one. We hope to see you soon!
So I dropped by the bookstore today to find something new. Iz (my brother) and I searched the racks there for a solid half hour to find something good, and I honestly have to say that I was a bit jaded by the experience. Not to be denied, we diligently searched for something to catch the fancy, reading the blurbs, (always partly covered by price tags), and discussing them. I think I saw the words 'slay', 'death', and 'prophecy/omen
The next thing, is that I don't think I saw more than a few standalone books. Everything these days is 'book two of the soandso chronicles' ... and that, to me, is a gigantic stumbling block. I don't really want to go through a whole book, and enjoy it, only to find that I have to make it through four more books to get the ending (at which point, usually I don't care anymore anyway). What happened to stories that were just told, and done with?
The second worst aspect of this trip was that I honestly don't think I found more than one debut book. Everything was 'the new york times bestseller'... shelves full of Anne McCaffrey, Mercedes Lackey, Tolkien, Robert Jordan, and that sort of author. The kind that has fifty books and dominates the shelfspace. I'd much prefer to purchase the work of an unknown... you know, that kind of thing is what makes it so damn tough for new authors. They just can't get exposure while Anne McCaffrey's nine thousand carbon-copy dragon books take up the whole shelf. ^^
But at least I got a book. Part one of the soandso chronicles, with a tragic ending... son of a whore.
Day one of spending-less-