Swinging at smoke…

Writing is hard.

It’s a very cyclical thing for me. It moves along in stages. What those stages are, how long they last, and whether or not I recognize them as they’re happening all vary on a case by case basis.

Right now I’m in the JFC everything is crap stage.

It happens.

I’ve spent a lot of time staring at my writing folder—like I do—trying to discern what I should be working on. Truth is, I really don’t know.

Once upon a time I went through and summarized all of my “active” projects. It was a lot more difficult than it should have been. And I’ve been trying to do an updated version of it with the current active list for…a long time. It’s an exercise in brevity and it’s incredibly difficult for someone like me who has a tendency to ramble incessantly, especially when it comes to talking about writing.

I want to write a brief summary of the plot, a few notes on where my brain is at on the given project, and a snippet of text from the actual story. Problem is I could go on for hours about each one when “summarizing” the plot. (I might need to lookup the actual definition of the word summarize, because clearly it doesn’t mean what I think it means.) As for where my brain is at with each one, a lot of it generally comes out as fuck if I know. And when it comes to pulling out a few lines of text…I want to take paragraphs.

And then I have a twenty-thousand word post.

Give or take.

I’ve considered doing an individual post on each one in a series. Then I could ramble all I want. But it’s supposed to be about brevity. And while that’s clearly not one of my strong suits, that’s what I want it to be.

So as it goes with everything in writing, I keep hacking and slashing until it resembles something I’m more or less okay with.

Or I shove it back in the drafts folder and forget about it for awhile.

Fair warning…this whole thing is five-thousand-some-odd words. (The last one I did was 3000+…so…)

So much for that whole brevity thing, I guess.

Hey—it’s fairly brief commentary for each story. But once you pile them all together…

Continue reading “Swinging at smoke…”

Nothing but time…

The internet was down for most of the day. Because it’s Century Link and providing internet service that works is not in their contract.

In all that time the internet was down, I kept trying to access the internet, frustrated that I couldn’t check in on my usual haunts.

When the internet came back up and I opened Firefox, I realized I should have just stayed off the fucking internet.

BECAUSE SERIOUSLY.

Instead of internet…(and reality JFC)

… I took a nap with Sheep. (Sheep is very serious about naps.)

… I folded the two (overflowing) baskets of laundry that have been sitting on my bedroom floor for two weeks.

… I listened to a lot of music.

… I dealt with phone calls. ECH.

… I ate buttered noodles.

… I did some writing.

And now it’s 2:30 in the morning and guess who can’t sleep? Not Sheep. Sheep’s snuggled in bed with his blankie and little bear friends. Instead Emerson Mouse and I are sitting in the loft in the dark, drinking lukewarm tea, and listening to Ryan Star.

Because RYAN STAR.

Let’s just take a moment to appreciate the nice things he does for charitable causes, shall we?

*Ahem*

What?

Anyway.

Writing progress has been sluggish as of late. Word count is creeping up on the latest pipe dream but it’s a slooow creep. Which drives me into the Seek Therapy folder and the collection of scenes without stories. Which is just a hodgepodge of conversations between characters who don’t have an actual story to hold them. Some of it is completely ridiculous, some of it could be usable in the proper plot line, all of it is really only entertaining to me.

Writing is writing.

I might cringe, but I don’t argue.

Olivia shoved her phone in her pocket, pausing as she heard a quiet huff behind her. She turned around to find Brody standing a few feet away, twisting his rolled script in his fists, a subtle pout on his lips as he averted his eyes.

“Hey. You okay?” she asked carefully.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “fine,” he forced a smile, but it fell flat.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded again, glancing briefly to where she’d stashed her phone, “Justin?”

Something flashed in his wide eyes and she could have sworn it was jealousy. She nodded slowly, “Yeah. He’s in the studio—lamenting an inept sound engineer.”

“Wishing he could have you again?”

She paused, noting there seemed to be a double meaning behind his words. She shrugged, waving her hand dismissively, “Something like that. Are you sure you’re okay, Critter?” she stepped closer, noticing him tense slightly.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m fine, Liv.”

She eyed him skeptically, “Then what’s with the pout?” she gripped his chin, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip.

He sucked his lip in, brief scowl crossing his face, “I’m not pouting,” he shifted awkwardly, eyes darting to the side.

She studied him a few moments and shook her head, “You know it’s funny—whenever you have a scene where Aiden is on the defensive about something, you do this pout thing that is just perfectly fitting to him. At first I thought it was something you managed for the character, but then I realized it comes so naturally because it is very much you.”

“I’m not defensive,” he muttered, wincing as he sounded exactly that. He considered putting distance between them, but she still gripped his chin and he really didn’t want to break the contact. He swallowed hard when she let him go, struggling to suppress the whine that threatened to escape.

She tapped him on the nose, “I don’t buy it, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you. Just remember I’m here if you need anything.”

He gave her a short nod but stayed quiet.

She looked at her watch and rubbed his arm, “We’ve got places to be. Come on.”


“Do I get defensive and pout?”

Alex looked up from his phone at Brody sitting next to him, “Yes.”

Brody sat up straight, “What? No I don’t.”

Yes you do. And you really pout when somebody else has Olivia’s attention.”

What?”

“Especially when she talks about her friend Justin.”

“Her ex-boyfriend?” he muttered, scowling.

Alex rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Exactly.”

Shut-up.”

“You know if you just told her the truth, you’d save yourself a lot of grief.”

“The truth about what?”

“Are we still playing this game? You’re in love with her.”

What? You’re cracked.”

“Yes, yes, that’s what she tells me too. You’re both buried so deep in denial it’s ridiculous.”

“I’m not in denial about anything.”

“Uh-huh. And you’re not at all defensive and pouty right now either. Why do you ask anyway?”

He huffed, snapping his mouth shut, and shook his head, “Something Liv said,” he mumbled.

“What did she say? Did she accuse you of being defensive and pouty? Because seriously with the lip right now.”

He sucked his bottom lip in, glowering at Alex, “She didn’t accuse me of being defensive. She was making an observation about Aiden…and me.”

“That you’re one and the same when you pout?”

“Something like that.”

“Were you pouting about something for her to make that observation?”

No.”

Alex arched an eyebrow, skeptical, and shook his head, “She probably thinks it’s adorable—like she does everything else about you.”

What?”

“She’s always finding a reason to tell you you’re adorable. I highly doubt she’d be like that if she wasn’t in love with you too.”

“She does the same thing with you. Does that mean she’s in love with you too?”

“She coddles me like her baby brother. It’s totally different.”

“And you totally love it.”

“Well, yeah. Liv’s awesome. But it’s still totally different from the way she dotes on you. And you don’t get all pouty when she pays attention to me. But the token gay guy on set isn’t a threat to your romantic pinings, so you have no reason to be jealous…unlike with everyone else.”

“I’m not jealous of anybody.”

“Keep telling yourself that, pal. Someday you might convince yourself it’s true.”

And then I realized I paired together two characters named Brody and Olivia and that maybe I should be focusing on the story two completely different characters named Brody and Olivia already live in.

And then there’s something about dead horses…