CosmicDog's Awareness

It took me an hour to write, I figured it would take an hour to read

errant: wandering; deviating from an appointed course, or from a direct path; roving.

Courtesy of Dictionary.com Word of the Day

First off, the irony is not lost on me, as a self-proclaimed writer that writes for about two weeks every year, and never finishes a piece. Errant. That's me.

Hmm. I just spent the last 30 minutes writing a short story, without knowing the plot, just riffing. And you know what? It didn't work for me. I deleted it without saving. Brainstorming is fun. Coming up with characters and conflicts is fun. Creating new worlds is fun. But an errant plot is no fun to write, and certainly no fun to read.

I feel that I just gave myself a little object lesson there. Who says that you can't teach yourself? I hope you got something out of this as well.

What else can I learn from this brief experiment? Plot: what happens in the story. I should have at least an idea of what's going to happen before I write it. Now, I'm open to allowing inspiration to come and accept the fact that a scene may turn as I write it. But, without a destination in mind, it's difficult to plot a course.

Ooh, did you see that? “Plot a course.” I totally did not plan that. I can get a handle on that.

I took an Aviation class a few years ago, and a large part of the class was devoted to plotting courses. You pick a starting point and a destination. You look at the terrain and weather conditions, and plan course alterations as necessary. If it's long journey/flight, you also pick several waypoints along the way to help you find your way. I never really looked at writing that way before. I bet if I bought a book on plot development, I would find this, or a similar, analogy. Plot a course, write a plot. It's the same word, yet I never looked at it as the same thing. See what I mean by I need to get a stronger grasp on vocabulary. Well, at least I learned something else tonight, even if it is the most basic of concepts.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: The fact that you're fat, sarcastic and wear glasses doesn't mean that you're smart. (BTW, that's what kinda annoyed me about Chris Sligh. Everyone kept talking about how smart he was. What did he ever say or do that made him look smart, other than being fat, sarcastic, and wearing glasses?)

My internal editor is saying: It's bad when your parenthetical statement is longer than your essential clause.

That's enough for one night.

Words On A Page

He was there, hunched over his laptop, sitting crossed-legged on his bed. All his life seemed to be leading up to this point. He had stayed up late the previous night reading articles from the 2007 Writer's Market and researching agents. It seemed that he was entering into a larger world. He knew he could do it. It's just words on a page. How hard could that be? Maybe he'll write an article for a magazine, perhaps something about Science and Religion or Music or maybe Web Site design. Or maybe he would write a Science Fiction or Fantasy novel. He literally has hundreds of ideas. Then again, there's the screenplay that he's been developing for the last year and a half. It's just words on a page. How hard could that be?

As it turns out, it is incredibly difficult. I guess if it was easy, everybody would be doing it. I'm trying to figure out what my roadblocks are in order to overcome them.

“The harm of words is sometimes we don't quite know exactly what they mean.” - These Ordinary Days , Jars of Clay

I think one of my main faults is a somewhat limited vocabulary. I do not have a college education and though I was AP in English classes in high school, well, that was fifteen years ago. Over time, my vocabulary has diminished to pretty much what I use for my job, some “Christianese” that I use to communicate at church, some techno-babble, and what I hear on TV. I could tell you what affluent means, but not effluent. The good news is that building my vocabulary is not that difficult, my Google home page even has a Dictionary Word of the Day. Maybe I could write a short story or even just a paragraph each day using that word.

It's almost midnight, at which time I will turn into a pumpkin (and not a 'smashing' one), so I must bid you adieu.

To be continued...

Research, Ideas

I finally have an idea for a SciFi story:

The year is 2025. The Digital age has come to maturity. All electronic devices are connected to a wireless high speed international network. All computer applications, files, games, media, entertainment, and information is distributed through this Network. Access is granted through your DNA code. Any attempt to remain anonymous is illegal. The only ones off the Net are criminals and terrorists, and the special investigators that hunt them.

This is just the setting of the story, I look forward to walking around in it and seeing what stories develop.

This is inspired by:

1. The convergence of digital media and information, i.e. TV and movies through the Internet, and digital devices that have multiple uses, i.e. my Palm TX plays video and music, accesses the Internet, and even controls my TV.

2. DRM and and the DMCA.

3. The Patriot Act and the current administration abuse of power and disregard for individual privacy.

4. And, of course, '24'.

And now, I'm off to do some research.

Getting the brain out was easy, the hard part was getting the brain out!

Today, I am a writer. I have a laptop, a blog, John Scalzi's writing advice, and I just received my very own copy of the 2007 Writer's Market Deluxe Edition.  So it's official, I am a writer.  Please start all e-mails and comments with 'Dear Mr Writer, Sir'.

No, as a matter of fact, I have not written any pieces of consequence.  I fail to see how that is relevant.  I think that I will join a local writer's group...you know what, I just did!

In earnest, have you seen the going rates for advertising copy writing? $92/hour average.  That's a day's take home pay for me.  How do you crack into that field?

I've been taking baby steps on this journey for the last fives years or so, and I think the time has come to start pressing harder.  I'm not sure what this means for me, but I feel confident that I can make a living as a writer.  I'm reasonably intelligent and I know how to put words together.  From what I hear, that's 90% of being a successful writer, followed by hard work, a good attitude, and lots of luck.

I expect that is what is this little journal will be, a chronicle of my successes and failures as I follow my dream.  Come with me, will you?

In case you were wondering, I'm open to all kinds of writing: Fiction, Non-Fiction, Journalism, Technical, and, of course, Advertising Copy.  Wish me luck, and if you want to hire me for a project, even for free, drop me a line.

BTW: Did you see American Idol tonight?  Freaking awesome!  Finally, a good episode this season.

Mystery Hotel

Since Wil Wheaton is one of my writing inspirations, I figured I would take on one his writing challenges.  This is originally from Shane Nickerson's Nickerblog.  The hardest part for me was getting it down to under 300 words.  My first draft had 450.  Enjoy!

ST JOSEPH'S LEGACY

Bill Reid had worked at St Joseph's Legacy Hotel for over thirty years. He started as a bellhop and worked his way up to manager. It was the closest thing to an inheritance that he could leave his son.

Bill grew up during the Depression and always hoped to rise above the troubled lives of his parents. 

He worked hard, sometimes up to eighteen hours a day.

He finally saved up enough money to start his own business when he met Betsy. He knew that she would be his wife. The business would have to wait. He knew that it would foolish to pass by this opportunity. Betsy was attracted to Bill's strong work ethic and hopeful attitude, and after a brief romance, they were married.

Bill and Betsy both got jobs at the Hotel. He was the Bellhop and she was the Housekeeper. Their son, Matthew, was born was born three years later. Six years after that, Betsy succumbed to Polio. Bill raised his son alone, he never looked at another woman. Eventually, he had to sell the family home to avoid falling into debt.

His only ambition was to make sure his son had a better life. He couldn’t afford to send him to college, but he could get him a job. His only fear was that his son would be never leave the hotel and fail to reach his full potential.

He wouldn't have to worry for long, St. Joseph's was closing it doors. Matthew would have to find his own way through life.

Even though no more guests would be checking in, Bill made sure that the lobby was clean and inviting.  He realized that, after thirty years, he had never had his picture taken in the place.

"Well, I guess it's now or never."