It’s a chicken and egg thing. When I’m up, I write. When I’m coming up out of a down swing, I start to write. When I swing back down, all writing stops. I don’t know if writing is a symptom or a cause of an improvement in my mood, but I know I can only do it when I’m up, and the longer I do it, the longer I’ll stay up.
Problem is, the longer I stay up, the deeper my next down might be when it comes around. For me, it’s writing, but I’m pretty sure for other people, the same can be applied to all kinds of pursuits, be they artistic or not.
I’m probably not alone in this sort of thing. If someone you know has mood swings, and a noticable tell – meaning you can spot a trigger or pattern of symptoms/causes that alerts you to them – don’t be afraid to let them know. It took me years to realise the two were related for me, and much trouble could have been avoided had I known.
WIPs. Works In Progress. Yes, I’m talking about plural here. I have 3. Frustrating.
One is the last short for my Pack Coppernick series, after which, I’m putting it to rest. I know I said there’d be more, but to be honest, I’ve just run out of steam with the whole thing.
Two is a new adult futuristic Sci-Fi trilogy, and absolutely no spin-offs for this one.
The third is one that hit me on the weekend, and it’s kinda taken hold in my brain. It’s set in the current day, and is another YA set. What I hope makes this different, and I hope appealing to readers, is there’s not a single character in it – well none who survive, that is – who has any redeeming qualities at all. I know that every time I watch a movie or read a book, somehow, I always find myself either sympathising with, or downright supporting the antagonist. And, I reckon I’m not alone.
I read the first chapter to Miss11 yesterday and she loved it. This is a girl who loves the good guys in most of the books she reads etc, but deep down, thinks Harley Quinn is the BEST CHARACTER EVER. You know what? I think she’s probably right.
Now, I’m all for suspension of disbelief. I’ve written a lot of stuff requiring it. But really, it’d be nice if once, just once, a bloody (Heh. See what I did there?) vampire story made sense.
We all know the scenario. Person gets bitten by a vampire, loses enough blood to be on the verge or carking it, then are “saved” by the vampire with the vamp’s own blood. Think about it seriously, folks. Thas has plot holes big enough to swallow you.
Ok, I’ll hop off this ‘ol soapbox for now, but before I go, could I just mention to the world that I’m getting pretty sick of the current trope with ebook album covers? A couple of years ago, female protags standing sideways with big guns and bare midriffs was all the rage. Now it’s mary-sues slinking up to shopped images of bare-chested blokes so ripped you’d think their skin is shrink-wrapped onto walnuts.
It’s taken me a while, but I’ve figured it out. I know my brain hasn’t progressed much past the mental age of 16, and the body has kept going. That happens to everyone. Some things never change. One of them is my sense of rebellion. The thing is, I’m no longer rebelling against my parents… well not too much anyway. Instead, the authority figure in my life who is now the target for my need to break the rules, is my doctor.
Every six months, she marches me into the nurse’s office, get said nusre to stick a hole in me, and then a week later, tells me my cholesterol is too high. What do I do? I go and eat more hamburgers.
Surely there must be some balancing effect here. R & R is benefitial. Whether it comes from massage, yoga, chocolate, or burgers, has to be good for you, right? Granted the last two back there can be bad for you if you eat too much of them, but a little sure relieves the stress.
That’s my story, and I don’t care if I’m deluding myself, I’m sticking to it.
As I write this, I have 4353 friends on Facebook. I reckon only a small percentage of those are people I actually know, or correspond with, with any regularity. So, I’m making a list of people to stay friends with. Everyone I message or chat with, everyone who posts something I like, or likes something I post, plus a few actual friends and family, will go onto this list. Then, come March 24 2018, everyone else will be unfriended.
I’m not doing this to be an asshole. I’m not doing this to follow the hipster trend of dumping FB. I’m doing this for money, boys and girls. It’s that simple.
In the past few months of selling plants, planters and garden beds, I haven’t made more than I have by writing, but I have made it faster. So, I’m going to keep my friends list below the 5k limit between now and March 2018. I’m also going to only accept friend requests from people I know, or Melbournians who may wish to buy stuff from me. Then, come March 24, 2018, I’m taking a razor to my friends list.
So, if you want to stay in touch, like this, or any other post, between now and this time next year. If this has rubbed you the wrong way, unfriend me. I won’t mind. You’ll be saving me some time.
You know the feeling. That craving you get that can’t be satisfied with any substitute? I had to have a burger. I needed it. So, over to Burger Bliss I went. They’re just accross the street from my work, which is a shame. I don’t like giving my neighbours bad reviews, but this is the second time I’ve been there, and the second time I’ve left disappointed.
I ordered the Classic Beef Combo Meal. It comes with a burger, fries, and a drink – either water, a can (no diet), or iced tea.
I asked for iced tea, but was told there was none yet. HUH? It was 12:30. If ever there was time to have it ready, you’d think it would have been then. So, I got a Fanta. The wait for the meal was pleasant enough. I sat down with a highlighter and a manuscript and got some proofing done. Then the food came out, and evidently this was the cue to rupture my eardrums with Europop.
Normally, I’m in the “If it’s too loud, you’re too old!” camp, but jeez, that
music noise was awful. When I asked them to turn it down, I got a grunt and they turned if off completely. Apparrently there’s no middle ground with these guys. That’s not the only thing about which they’re inflexible. Most of the classice flavours of milkshake just don’t exist there. Want a chocolate shake? The closest you’ll get is either Nutella or Home Made Salted Caramel. What about Strawberry? Well, there is Strawberries and Cream, but it just aint the same thing.
As for the food itself? The fries were fine, and that was about the only good thing. The burger bun was cold. The patty was too small and off centre, and there was way too much slaw. That meant the first two bites got me nothing but slop and slaw between two cold yet odly greasy slices of bun. When I did get to the meat, it wasn’t the medium rare they promised to deliver. It was rare. Too rare. I’m talking cool in the middle, falling apart rare.
Sorry Burger Bliss. I’m afraid you’re not winning me over. If you read this, here are a few pointers which may help you improve business, and I should point out that while I was there – the peak of lunchtime – there were only two other customers in the joint. You can’t be making money with your current formula.
I’ll give you guys 1 Star, and that’s just because the fries were nice. Everything else needs work, and I suggest you do it quickly, or you’re probably not going to turn a profit any time soon.
I think from now on, when I need a burger, and really I only get this absolute craving about once every other month, I’ll probably trek over to Carnegie to go to Grill’d. The music is loud there too, but not so loud I can’t hear myself think. They smile, and while they don’t do shakes at all, their drink selection is a helluva lot better than what’s on offer at Burger Bliss.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m a number of Sams all rolled into one. One’s just a simple husband and dad who works in retail. One’s a writer. Another’s a hobby gardener, trying to bring in a few extra dollars by selling herbs and planter boxes. The trouble is, I can only switch between these modes one at a time. I can, on rare occasions, run Family Sam with Writer Sam, or Gardener Sam, but not for long.
Writer Sam is the most anti-social of all three. He needs large chunks of unbroken time, and discipline. Annoyingly, since he takes medication to help stabilise his moods, the discipline is very important, especially since he’s always been a pantser*. He can’t just sit down at a keyboard while he’s on an up-swing and write for hours, or sometimes even days at a time. He needs bum-glue.
And, there’s always the financial side. Gardener Sam is making more money, more regularly, than Writer Sam.
So, Gardener Sam is gazumping Writer Sam a lot these days. But, Writer Sam has got a message to all his fans: Don’t Panic!!! There is more copming; it’s just going to be coming more slowly than before. In fact, I’m writing a bit today, which is nice, so stay tuned!
*A pantser writer writes by the seat of his or her pants, while a plotter is more disciplined, and maps their story out much more clearly before and during the writing process.