Author Archive
All men dream but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes to make it possible.
Dream big. What is a sky if not something to reach for?
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Listening to Dub FX and reading over my blog entries from the last year or so.
…you can love me or not but either way I’ve got to wake up to face another day tomorrow morning, you can love me or not but either way I’ve got the sunrise looking in my eyes…tomorrow morning, what will the world bring, what will it bring to me…
What a journey, in my ears and my mind.
I’ve read words that literally give me goosebumps; startlingly prescient things I’ve said that only make sense from where I now stand.
It really makes one wonder where inspiration comes from. Is it a direct link to something/someplace else? Can creative people tap into that theoretical collective unconscious that seems to get dusted off at some point in every anthro class I’ve ever taken?
Maybe it’s just a function of my general vagueness.
Any way that I look at it, it’s still kinda, for lack of a better adjective, well, trippy.
I’m incredibly happy right now. I’ve got amazing people populating my life and I’ve got such an overwhelming sense of optimism for the future that it’s almost palpable.
I’m almost surprised that it’s not visible, flowing from me in waves, making me look like a mirage; wobbling through the streets like a tornado wrapped in Sahara heat-shimmer.
You get the idea.
I always want to say so much more. But I’m also enjoying the deliberate mystery. I occasionally mention that deliberate mystery is work. It is, but it’s fun work.
I also know that a few people read my blog, as in regularly, on purpose. And there are always some randoms that stop by now and then: so the vague discourse that defines my monologues will continue until further notice.
I’m sticking my tongue out right now. Of course you can’t see it, but just imagine it for a second; I’d do it for you.
In other news:
My rather battered face is healing quite well (yet another surgery, strange how one moment can add so much pain to a man’s life). I may have to have another surgery in the spring but that’s months away and so is not much of an issue right now.
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I’m vastly enjoying the updated iPhone app for wordpress.
I can finally stop writing out the HTML tags, longhand as it were.
In other news it’s going to rain, and I’m going to run in it because running in the rain is all sorts of awesome.
I’m also quite amused that my phone is an order of magnitudes more powerful than my first computer ever was.
Life is wide open. Get some.
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I feel like a shooting star.
This is not so much a reference to flying as it is one to falling.
I am, a bit more every second of each day.
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Being a good fiction writer essentially means you’re schizophrenic.
I just give the voices names and faces; histories and then I let them tell their stories on paper.
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So yeah.
About that:
You ever have a moment when everything makes sense? By which I mean everything clicks and you realize that you’ve been living half a life up to that second.
I’m struggling to find words, I’ve written about girls, about feelings, almost exclusively for most of my career.
But I don’t think I ever really understood what it really was that I was trying to say.
I’ve thought that I knew what I was talking about, and maybe after a fashion I did.
But only up to a point. I’d only experienced enough to believe the illusion when it was presented.
Like someone raised watching television and never going out into the world, you just don’t know what’s real.
Until real smacks you in the face, wakes you up, amps you up…so much better than the illusion.
Cautiously optimistic, but with a strange surety in the background.
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It’s a listening to pennywise drinking straight espresso kind of Sunday.
And as soon as I typed that my shuffle left pennywise and went to the subways.
Hence the straight espresso.
And it’s now about fourteen hours after I started this post. I’ve got a wicked cold-allergy thing going on, so I’ve spent most of the last couple of days in bed being useless.
Which is nice, just not when I’m crazy stressed about a deadline.
Annnnd twelve more hours:
Although it’s not as bad as all that, my creativity has returned with a vengeance, making up for lost time.
Being a writer is an odd thing in my estimation.
I rather like it though.
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In a break from my usual modus operandi today we’re talking shop.
As in writing shop.
My first series is moving forward in fits and starts. Which is quite normal for me lately. I’m not quite certain where I want to break this book off and start the next. I’m looking for that perfect spot that says both completion and read more!
Therein lies the difficulty of writing a series. I’ve got a couple of spots that would work, choice, always the issue is choice.
I’m also not quite sure how I want the next book to start. Add in my complete lack of focus on this series and you’ve got a bit of a pickle. I like that phrase although it barely makes sense in literal terms.
I’ve got too many projects in my head. The lack of focus is a result of my creativity; brain never turns off.
At any rate I know this is incredibly vague, I’ve been debating posting a chapter or two but I’ve been a little leery at the thought of posting unpublished material, even though it’s copyrighted.
I ❤ you intellectual property laws. But I digress:
Anyone out there get stuck like this when you're trying to finish a project? I like that I'm constantly forming new ideas for books, I enjoy the conceptual exercise of it, but I would really, really like to finish this one first.
Ah, well. The curse of the endlessly prolific and gifted. I'm such a whiner today.
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Human beings have endless power to create. That is the gift we were given.
Using that gift is what you give back.
So get out there, live, love and be the best possible version of you that you possibly can be.
I have spent the last several months intensively analyzing my life, it’s been a productive journey. I literally relived every moment that could possibly break me. I went through everything that has been an obstacle to my personal happiness and health.
And then I let it all go. It’s a part of me, but it no longer rules my thoughts. My life is mine. I will not bend and I will not break.
It’s just a slight perceptual shift, I believe that the test that is our lives isn’t a pass/fail multiple choice exam. It’s an essay. The only thing that matters is how you answer; there are no standard answers for this life.
It’s been a long strange trip, but no matter what has been thrown at me; I still believe. And I sincerely cannot wait to see what’s next.
You only get one life. Let your regrets fall away and never, ever look back.
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I am finally free.
I want to jump off of something very high, with a chute of course.
Sometimes your feet are moving of their own accord, and there’s a big difference between knowing the path and walking the path.
I am right when and where I am supposed to be in my life. As everything starts to fall into place, I can feel the muscles in my face form a smile; unbidden, slightly ironic and decidedly mischievous.
Loose ends tied. Baggage checked at the door.
Metamorphosis complete. There are thousands of words in my personal lexicon, many more available through my dictionary app, not a one can describe how I feel right now.
I rather like that.
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curro ergo sum 