If you guessed this post is going to be about change, then I suppose you can give yourself credit for being a quick thinker - or at least as obscure a thinker as I am.
So there are a few reasons I'm writing about change today. The most immediate is that when I woke up this morning, got my coffee, and settled into my morning, I opened up Facebook and saw that the layout of my page had changed. Okay, no big deal. I've dealt with far worse to start my day.
But it got me thinking. In fact, lately my days have pretty even keel. I so much as told this to an acquaintance of mine (okay, a close acquaintance) who seems to be struggling right now with things. Yesterday we were having a conversation (mostly a monologue on her part I admit I didn't have the energy to listen to) and in reply to her remark that she needs to talk herself down and not do anything rash I mentioned how lately I've had no desire to stir things up in my life. I'm okay with where I'm at and I've no reason to make any changes.
She replied by saying change is inevitable.
Of course it is I replied. Change happens whether you like it or not. And there certainly are times when it's appropriate to force a change in your life. If you're in an abusive relationship, or your habitual behavior is causing you to suffer you should definitely look into doing something about it. But in your quest for enlightenment don't you think that if you reach a plateau you should jump on the opportunity to take a breather? Should I feel guilty that I'm not trying to force myself to grow as a person right now? I'm just not interested. I mean don't I do that naturally anyway?
One never knows when life has been setting you up with fastballs and is about to send a split-fingered slider your way. You're not looking for it, nor should you. It's too exhausting. But it doesn't hurt to keep the possibility in the back of your mind either. Then when it happens you'll at least have a shot at laying some wood into it. (Okay, I'm done with the baseball analogies. If I've lost you please understand it's summer and baseball is a symbol of the season. You have to at least appreciate that. Now keep reading and let's be adult about this.)
Change hits you when you least expect it. Thirteen years ago I knew change was coming. I had a son on the way. I would soon have two children. Our family dynamic would never be the same. So I prepared myself for it. Did all the things expectant parents do, some of which I didn't do the first time around. One week after my son was born we found ourselves in Boston Children's hospital listening to doctors explain over and over what was wrong with our son's heart with me half-listening and understanding even less. It still tears at me to think of it. All I knew was that they were going to cut my infant son's chest open like a melon and rubber band something together. This would fix things for a while but as he grew they made it perfectly clear that we'd be back for more. This is the kind of change you can never prepare yourself for. Like the day I came home from work to learn my dad had massive heart attack and died on the way to the hospital. Nope. Didn't see that one coming either.
You will never, never, never be able to avoid change, nor will you be able to anticipate it. OF COURSE I KNOW THAT.
So here's what I've learned in my 57 years of life. If it ain't broken...yeah, you know the rest and that sounds pretty trite. But it's true.
So about the title of today's post. The other day I was walking down the street and one of the growing number of homeless people stopped me and asked for exactly 41 cents.
I gave him fifty.
Hee Haw
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Friday, July 5, 2013
The Seedy Underbelly
I have seen it. The seedy underbelly of rural America. And you know what? It's not as frightening as I thought. The thing of it is, I've come to realize that keeping an open mind about people, places, and things that normally would be outside your comfort zone is actually beneficial to your personal growth. In case you were wondering, I am unabashedly non-conformist. My hair is a bit on the long side. I don't wear suits. I'm most comfortable wearing thrift shop clothing. And I don't eat fast food. And while I don't talk politics or try to argue my views, I suspect I would baffle a lot of people when it comes to how my convictions are formed. Same thing with religion. My views come from within, are not altogether on one side or the other, and are not swayed by the opinions of those around me.
Now about the company I keep, here's where my spiritual beliefs come into play. My associations astound me. Through no design of my own, I find myself collaborating on a close and personal basis with people I typically wouldn't give two shakes about. I chalk this up to finally allowing myself to be open to anything and everything in the vast world that surrounds me. I am not a redneck. I am not a religious fanatic. Hell, I'm not even a Hoosier. Yet here I am playing in a redneck band at night, and a praise band on Sunday mornings. All in the great state of Indiana. No way I could ever force these collaborations. Therefore I must chalk it up to intelligent design. What I do serves a purpose, even though I might not understand all of what that purpose entails or even how that purpose affects the grand scheme of things.
We are by nature visual people. When most people think about God, they try to form some sort of picture in their head of what this God might look like. Over the course of history there must be thousands upon thousands of paintings, drawings, and sculptures of what man (or woman) believes to be a depiction of the almighty deity. Where does this vision come from? Well, in my belief system, all creativity comes from a higher power. Given that, maybe these depictions are accurate. Yet they are all so different. So in my view, the Almighty, creator of the universe, can take any form depending on the needs of the recipient. If you're comfortable envisioning God as an old man in a robe with white flowing hair and a long beard sitting on a cloud, then that's what he is. If you're vision is that of a young woman colorfully dressed with eight arms then...well, you get the picture.
So back to my original point. I've spent much of my life being closed minded. Too much. Looking down your nose at people, places, and things has cut down on the number of experiences I might have had even though I determined early on in life that experience is really the pinnacle of our purpose. It's why I write. To take my experiences, regurgitate them into something entertaining, and send the results out into the cosmos. So in order to do that to the best of my ability, I need to be open and positive about allowing myself to fall into situations I previously might have backed out of. And lastly, although I'm no longer a youngster, I need to be mindful that I still have much to learn. And for that concept, I'm thankful I figured it out. Now if I could only figure out how to make the perfect mac n cheese.
Hee Haw
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Let's Argue Shall We?
First, I apologize. I'm a horrible blogger. That's probably why no one reads this thing and really, the only reason I'm writing something now is because I think it's a good exercise for my writer's brain.
Now that that's out of the way, here's my paltry contribution to the internet wisdom pool, which amounts to pissing in the ocean.
I'm sure there's more than one raging debate going on over at AW, the writer's forum. But one in particular sucked me in the other day and I had to get involved. Now I know it's a fool's errand to argue with people over the internet. One: People who post their opinions behind the shield of online forums quite often are there for one purpose; to be disagreeable. Certain internet posters will argue about anything. If you tell them the sky is blue and the grass is green they'll try to make some grand academic proclamation about how insensitive you're being toward people who are color blind. Granted, I've participated in some perfectly proper discussions with perfectly reasonable, logical, intelligent people on internet forums so I know it's possible. But like any club that has no criteria for membership, you're going to run into some attention depraved loons.
Which brings me to the "discussion" that reeled me in on traditional publishing vs. self publishing; one of those hot point topics among writers that many find devoid of middle ground. You're either in one camp or the other. Choose a side. Except that's absolutely ridiculous. This debate, like just about anything else concerning the craft of writing, has more shades of gray than a pickup truck in a trailer park. Immediately, some frustrated erotic novelist chick, who claims she's from Ireland, jumps in and makes it sound like self publishing is only for those who flunked out of seventh grade and that she would rather preform lewd acts with a donkey before even considering debasing herself by self publishing. Then she goes on about all the checques (regardless of the spelling I still suspect this person is holed up in some New Jersey Starbucks) her publisher is filling her mailbox with, like she's some hugely successful author, which makes her an authority on everything. Let me tell you, the first lesson I learned when I attempted to present a logical contribution to this discussion by making the point that the more avenues of getting one's writing into the hands of readers the better. But it's pointless to try and talk sense to idiots. Idiots will counter logic with illogical statements and never look back. They will always be convinced they are winning a debate even when the foundation of their position is made out of Dixie cups. So getting into an argument with these types is not only pointless, it only leads in one direction - Frustrationville. Lesson learned. Stay away. But for those of you who aren't entrenched in one side or the other of this topic, those who are curious about the revolution underway in the book publishing world, along with several other creative mediums like music, art, and theater, here's what we're looking at:
Self publishers, small presses, niche writers, and the like should be hopeful. The alternative road to publishing is in no way shape or form indicative of a writer's level of talent, and it's growing. The reality of today's traditional publishing industry is that regardless of a work's brilliance, it is still possible for it to be overlooked. This is due to a multitude of reasons. Maybe you're a great writer but aren't great at composing a compelling query letter. For those of you who don't know, writing a query letter is like sticking hot pokers in your eyes. Making your intricate, multidimensional, 300-page novel sound intriguing in 250 words or less is about as much fun as puking up spoiled macaroni salad. The process of snaring an agent or editor makes even less sense than American politics. (And don't even begin to tell me that our political system isn't broken.) Unfortunately it's the only process we've got and honestly, I'm not sure if a better way exists (the publishing process I mean, not American politics). Certainly it's not going away any time soon.
Then there are trends. Publishers need to make money. And with their profits shrinking, they're more skittish than ever to gamble on a new, innovative author. For over a decade now, the percentage of dollars spent on unknown commodities by publishers has shrunk down to practically nothing. I'm not saying this is wrong, it's the reality of the business. With so much competition for the shrinking entertainment dollar, the safe bets are on the proven best sellers - Koontz, King, Grisham, Evanovich, and the like. Couple that with the number of people writing books and the odds of getting traditionally published turns into a crap shoot similar to today's job market. Good isn't good enough. To take a cue from the Occupy movement, there's the one percent, then there's the rest of us.
But here's the good news. Technology is opening up a whole new world to writers just as it has already done for musicians. It used to be unimaginable for a band to produce a professional quality recording in their home studio unless the bass player had a rich father (which was usually the criteria for hiring a bass player in the first place). Now, for less than the price of a '95 Buick you can build a home studio and crank out quality recordings even though, following an afternoon of smoking weed in the park, you dropped out of high school and decided to become a rock star. In fact, for writers it's even easier and less expensive. Sure, this opens the doors to every hack that ever thought it sounded cool to be referred to as a novelist. And yes, there will always be steaming piles of poo to wade through in search of those self-published gems. But at least the option is there. And just because a book resides in those steaming piles of poo, don't automatically assume that it's not just as good as something published by say, Random House or Simon and Schuster. It's a simple case of supply and demand. Something any idiot can understand, right?
Now that that's out of the way, here's my paltry contribution to the internet wisdom pool, which amounts to pissing in the ocean.
I'm sure there's more than one raging debate going on over at AW, the writer's forum. But one in particular sucked me in the other day and I had to get involved. Now I know it's a fool's errand to argue with people over the internet. One: People who post their opinions behind the shield of online forums quite often are there for one purpose; to be disagreeable. Certain internet posters will argue about anything. If you tell them the sky is blue and the grass is green they'll try to make some grand academic proclamation about how insensitive you're being toward people who are color blind. Granted, I've participated in some perfectly proper discussions with perfectly reasonable, logical, intelligent people on internet forums so I know it's possible. But like any club that has no criteria for membership, you're going to run into some attention depraved loons.
Which brings me to the "discussion" that reeled me in on traditional publishing vs. self publishing; one of those hot point topics among writers that many find devoid of middle ground. You're either in one camp or the other. Choose a side. Except that's absolutely ridiculous. This debate, like just about anything else concerning the craft of writing, has more shades of gray than a pickup truck in a trailer park. Immediately, some frustrated erotic novelist chick, who claims she's from Ireland, jumps in and makes it sound like self publishing is only for those who flunked out of seventh grade and that she would rather preform lewd acts with a donkey before even considering debasing herself by self publishing. Then she goes on about all the checques (regardless of the spelling I still suspect this person is holed up in some New Jersey Starbucks) her publisher is filling her mailbox with, like she's some hugely successful author, which makes her an authority on everything. Let me tell you, the first lesson I learned when I attempted to present a logical contribution to this discussion by making the point that the more avenues of getting one's writing into the hands of readers the better. But it's pointless to try and talk sense to idiots. Idiots will counter logic with illogical statements and never look back. They will always be convinced they are winning a debate even when the foundation of their position is made out of Dixie cups. So getting into an argument with these types is not only pointless, it only leads in one direction - Frustrationville. Lesson learned. Stay away. But for those of you who aren't entrenched in one side or the other of this topic, those who are curious about the revolution underway in the book publishing world, along with several other creative mediums like music, art, and theater, here's what we're looking at:
Self publishers, small presses, niche writers, and the like should be hopeful. The alternative road to publishing is in no way shape or form indicative of a writer's level of talent, and it's growing. The reality of today's traditional publishing industry is that regardless of a work's brilliance, it is still possible for it to be overlooked. This is due to a multitude of reasons. Maybe you're a great writer but aren't great at composing a compelling query letter. For those of you who don't know, writing a query letter is like sticking hot pokers in your eyes. Making your intricate, multidimensional, 300-page novel sound intriguing in 250 words or less is about as much fun as puking up spoiled macaroni salad. The process of snaring an agent or editor makes even less sense than American politics. (And don't even begin to tell me that our political system isn't broken.) Unfortunately it's the only process we've got and honestly, I'm not sure if a better way exists (the publishing process I mean, not American politics). Certainly it's not going away any time soon.
Then there are trends. Publishers need to make money. And with their profits shrinking, they're more skittish than ever to gamble on a new, innovative author. For over a decade now, the percentage of dollars spent on unknown commodities by publishers has shrunk down to practically nothing. I'm not saying this is wrong, it's the reality of the business. With so much competition for the shrinking entertainment dollar, the safe bets are on the proven best sellers - Koontz, King, Grisham, Evanovich, and the like. Couple that with the number of people writing books and the odds of getting traditionally published turns into a crap shoot similar to today's job market. Good isn't good enough. To take a cue from the Occupy movement, there's the one percent, then there's the rest of us.
But here's the good news. Technology is opening up a whole new world to writers just as it has already done for musicians. It used to be unimaginable for a band to produce a professional quality recording in their home studio unless the bass player had a rich father (which was usually the criteria for hiring a bass player in the first place). Now, for less than the price of a '95 Buick you can build a home studio and crank out quality recordings even though, following an afternoon of smoking weed in the park, you dropped out of high school and decided to become a rock star. In fact, for writers it's even easier and less expensive. Sure, this opens the doors to every hack that ever thought it sounded cool to be referred to as a novelist. And yes, there will always be steaming piles of poo to wade through in search of those self-published gems. But at least the option is there. And just because a book resides in those steaming piles of poo, don't automatically assume that it's not just as good as something published by say, Random House or Simon and Schuster. It's a simple case of supply and demand. Something any idiot can understand, right?
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Like an onion...
I can't help but use writing as a metaphor for life. So it's understandable that in the process of creating a publishable manuscript, you find that the work you're doing on your draft is similar to what's going on inside you at that moment in time. To be more specific, I'm trimming the fat in my first draft as well as how I perceive the world around me. No more bloated, long-winded diatribes. Lean and mean is the catch-phrase of the day. It's so easy to get caught up in the gazillion distractions surrounding us, which makes it easy to get side-tracked from the task at hand. In fiction writing, all that bullshit I spew onto the page in the first draft clouds the actual story, making it oh so easy for the reader to set the book down and forget about it.
Same with this blog.
Hee Haw
Same with this blog.
Hee Haw
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Time for a Change
First change: new template for the blog. Yeah, it's still rather boring looking. No loud bells and whistles here. Just books. Because that's what this is supposed to be all about now isn't it?
Second change: Apparently I've got a new focus for my writing. This is actually work-related, and by work-related I mean having to do with the day job and not the work that I do for little to no pay in my spare time. But that's cool. Writing is writing and without the luxury of that solid reputation some writers have acquired, allowing the option to write about pretty much anything that strikes their fancy even if it's a detailed analysis of how many gold rings one might fit on a monkeys wiener, I will gladly take whatever opportunities float my way.
No, it's not writing sappy little notes for a greeting card company if that's what you're thinking. And even if it was, is there really anything wrong with that? In fact, that might be a pretty sweet gig.
In case you aren't aware, I'm a small player in a very well-respected, highly effective research center here at Indiana University, and research around major universities like IU, place high on the academic respect chart.
Strike one!
But the research that goes on around here - here being the office I cheerfully drag my ass to every day - while interesting and worthy of huge accolades, is barely within the grasp of my tiny little artist's brain. My good fortune to be part of the Workshop in Political Theory is only eclipsed by the miracle that six years into this gig I haven't been tossed out on my ear (or rear depending on how fast you read that last sentence). But that's the way this place is. Very understanding, encouraging, and forgiving, and thankfully that's probably that mindset that won the professor who started this gig a Nobel prize. Let me tell you, aside from having a winning football team, a Nobel prize attracts a lot of the right kind of attention in a college town.
At any rate, one of the Workshop's current projects of which we're seeking funding is to develop a "Consumer-driven Health Information Website Based on Hot-to-Cold Empathy Gaps." Huh? What the heck does that mean? you may ask. I'll let you know when I figure it out myself. But apparently the writing part of this needs to be dumbed-down to a non-academic level. In other words, it needs to be made simple enough for someone with minimal education. Now perhaps I should have felt a little put-off when they thought of me as a possible writer for this project. I don't know about that. In fact, who cares? I could lay claim to the argument that it takes a unique skill set to write in a manner that's understandable to those lacking the capacity or attention span needed to comprehend anything more taxing than one line sentences containing words bigger than cat. But if that's the case, I will embrace the role fully and I will own my reputation as a simple story teller.
Especially if it means mo money, mo money, mo money...
Hee Haw
Second change: Apparently I've got a new focus for my writing. This is actually work-related, and by work-related I mean having to do with the day job and not the work that I do for little to no pay in my spare time. But that's cool. Writing is writing and without the luxury of that solid reputation some writers have acquired, allowing the option to write about pretty much anything that strikes their fancy even if it's a detailed analysis of how many gold rings one might fit on a monkeys wiener, I will gladly take whatever opportunities float my way.
No, it's not writing sappy little notes for a greeting card company if that's what you're thinking. And even if it was, is there really anything wrong with that? In fact, that might be a pretty sweet gig.
In case you aren't aware, I'm a small player in a very well-respected, highly effective research center here at Indiana University, and research around major universities like IU, place high on the academic respect chart.
Strike one!
But the research that goes on around here - here being the office I cheerfully drag my ass to every day - while interesting and worthy of huge accolades, is barely within the grasp of my tiny little artist's brain. My good fortune to be part of the Workshop in Political Theory is only eclipsed by the miracle that six years into this gig I haven't been tossed out on my ear (or rear depending on how fast you read that last sentence). But that's the way this place is. Very understanding, encouraging, and forgiving, and thankfully that's probably that mindset that won the professor who started this gig a Nobel prize. Let me tell you, aside from having a winning football team, a Nobel prize attracts a lot of the right kind of attention in a college town.
At any rate, one of the Workshop's current projects of which we're seeking funding is to develop a "Consumer-driven Health Information Website Based on Hot-to-Cold Empathy Gaps." Huh? What the heck does that mean? you may ask. I'll let you know when I figure it out myself. But apparently the writing part of this needs to be dumbed-down to a non-academic level. In other words, it needs to be made simple enough for someone with minimal education. Now perhaps I should have felt a little put-off when they thought of me as a possible writer for this project. I don't know about that. In fact, who cares? I could lay claim to the argument that it takes a unique skill set to write in a manner that's understandable to those lacking the capacity or attention span needed to comprehend anything more taxing than one line sentences containing words bigger than cat. But if that's the case, I will embrace the role fully and I will own my reputation as a simple story teller.
Especially if it means mo money, mo money, mo money...
Hee Haw
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Where to?
So here's the results of my little foray into the nanowrimo. I finished. Yep, at just before 10:00 pm on November 30, I submitted my 50,063 word completed manuscript to the nanowrimo website for verification and apparently their jacked up system disagreed with the almighty Bill Gates and Microsoft. 49,933 words is what they claimed I had copied and pasted into their little program. "Okay," I thought, "that's not a problem. It's not even 11:00 yet." I figured I had plenty of time to write 67 words.
Did that and more. Now I had a completed manuscript of 50,250 words and it was only 11:01. Select all. Copy. Got back to the nano site. Nanowrimo 2010 is closed!
Huh? "But it's not midnight yet," I exclaimed. "Since when does the day end at 11:00?"
"Dad, it's time for bed." My boy Danny apparently doesn't understand his father's need to set the Universe in order.
"Not now, son. I think I just got screwed."
"Turn the computer off, Dad, and step away. It is what it is."
I stopped myself from randomly clicking things on the nano website that obviously weren't going to solve my dilemma. He was right. I knew from the get go this whole venture was going to end badly. This was just the icing on the cake. A 50k word meandering exhibition of how NOT to write a book. Lesson learned...I guess. It was time to move on.
So what did I get out of my experiment. Well, I have what some would consider an accomplishment to be proud of. I have completed a novel. Big deal. I now have several completed novels and I'm sure before I leave this rock and move on to the next stage of existence, I'll have completed several more. That wasn't the point. I guess if anything I might have polished some skills in the stream of consciousness area. Let it flow, don't look back, just write, baby, write. Over the course of the month I averaged over 1500 words a day, bumping my average up considerably from my normal, pounding out of a first draft, pace. I also added more hours per day to my writing schedule than my usual hour in the morning before I have to get my ass over to the job that pays the bills (or at least some of them). So I guess I could say now I know I can do it. Terrific. I'll be sure to put that in my memoirs that will probably never get written because I've certainly got a lot of rewriting and editing to do.
Which brings me to the big question that I started the month of December off with. Where do I go now? Surprisingly a writing project has presented itself that, while not something I would have ever thought of on my own, has the potential to not only make me some money, but also broaden the scope of my skill set. I'll divulge more on this as it unfolds, but for right now I'll just say the timing is perfect. I have two first drafts to work on rewriting and as we all know, rewriting and writing aren't the same creatures. I always hate getting into rewrites because I feel that as a writer I should be writing something new at all times. But once I start writing something new, the older stuff that needs work usually gets pushed aside. For example, the rough draft I have of my book "Paramount," which has been sitting for almost exactly a year waiting for me to get back to it. It's become somewhat of an elephant in the room when it comes to my file folder where I stick my work. This morning I opened that folder and, for the first time in a year, went through the first couple of pages. Yeah, maybe it has potential.
As for my Nanowrimo novel "Auto Focus" (working title only), it will be there. It's not going anywhere, and neither am I. I already wrote about distractions, well, I'm certainly not lacking any of those. Maybe I'll get back to "Auto Focus" (again, that' just a working title only) before 2012 rears its ominous head.
Hee Haw
Did that and more. Now I had a completed manuscript of 50,250 words and it was only 11:01. Select all. Copy. Got back to the nano site. Nanowrimo 2010 is closed!
Huh? "But it's not midnight yet," I exclaimed. "Since when does the day end at 11:00?"
"Dad, it's time for bed." My boy Danny apparently doesn't understand his father's need to set the Universe in order.
"Not now, son. I think I just got screwed."
"Turn the computer off, Dad, and step away. It is what it is."
I stopped myself from randomly clicking things on the nano website that obviously weren't going to solve my dilemma. He was right. I knew from the get go this whole venture was going to end badly. This was just the icing on the cake. A 50k word meandering exhibition of how NOT to write a book. Lesson learned...I guess. It was time to move on.
So what did I get out of my experiment. Well, I have what some would consider an accomplishment to be proud of. I have completed a novel. Big deal. I now have several completed novels and I'm sure before I leave this rock and move on to the next stage of existence, I'll have completed several more. That wasn't the point. I guess if anything I might have polished some skills in the stream of consciousness area. Let it flow, don't look back, just write, baby, write. Over the course of the month I averaged over 1500 words a day, bumping my average up considerably from my normal, pounding out of a first draft, pace. I also added more hours per day to my writing schedule than my usual hour in the morning before I have to get my ass over to the job that pays the bills (or at least some of them). So I guess I could say now I know I can do it. Terrific. I'll be sure to put that in my memoirs that will probably never get written because I've certainly got a lot of rewriting and editing to do.
Which brings me to the big question that I started the month of December off with. Where do I go now? Surprisingly a writing project has presented itself that, while not something I would have ever thought of on my own, has the potential to not only make me some money, but also broaden the scope of my skill set. I'll divulge more on this as it unfolds, but for right now I'll just say the timing is perfect. I have two first drafts to work on rewriting and as we all know, rewriting and writing aren't the same creatures. I always hate getting into rewrites because I feel that as a writer I should be writing something new at all times. But once I start writing something new, the older stuff that needs work usually gets pushed aside. For example, the rough draft I have of my book "Paramount," which has been sitting for almost exactly a year waiting for me to get back to it. It's become somewhat of an elephant in the room when it comes to my file folder where I stick my work. This morning I opened that folder and, for the first time in a year, went through the first couple of pages. Yeah, maybe it has potential.
As for my Nanowrimo novel "Auto Focus" (working title only), it will be there. It's not going anywhere, and neither am I. I already wrote about distractions, well, I'm certainly not lacking any of those. Maybe I'll get back to "Auto Focus" (again, that' just a working title only) before 2012 rears its ominous head.
Hee Haw
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Diversions, Distractions, and Other Words that Start with D
Diversions are such occurrences, either created intentionally or encountered by accident, that sidetrack and/or otherwise delay completion of the task at hand.
Distractions are of a smaller scale, although sometimes a distraction can grow to become a full on diversion.
Really, I'm just talking out of my ass right now. I haven't actually looked up any definitions for either of these words (definition being another word that starts with the letter 'd'), so feel free to disagree with my interpretations.
In case you haven't guessed already, today's topic is inspired by my continual need to plow forward on my current project--that being this silly novel I'm trying to write in a month's time. Regarding this, I've checked out a few of the sites floating around the internet where writers talk about writer stuff, to see if anyone really succeeds in this task. I assumed that, like myself, I would find all sorts of folks commiserating on their lack of progress and the feeling that they're churning out nothing but stinky piles of crap, and I would feel okay about being just under where I should be at this point in the game. Instead I find just the opposite. People who have already surpassed the 50k word goal and are working on the sequel to their nano-novel. What? You're going to write a series of books in a month? Plus, some of these people get very offended when it's suggested that what they're writing may not be quite the quality you would find in a work that...well...let's just say some people are convinced that they can write an epic novel in a month and it will come out publishable.
Good for them.
Given this, I can only assume that in these people's lives, they are not plagued with the diversions and distractions I seem to run across every day.
But here's the thing...Isn't that what life is? A series of diversions and distractions to fill the days until you die? I know that sounds pretty fatalistic. But even in the pursuit of higher meaning, aren't you just looking for a way to keep from being bored? I say this with a bit of my tongue firmly planted in my cheek, but still, I can't help but allow that idea to creep in, out, and around my brain from time to time. Is there such a thing as a worthwhile diversion, or a legitimate distraction? Or, when it all comes down to it, is one time-waster just the same as another. If that is true, then maybe it's best to pick a pursuit that truly motivates you and stick to it. You like watching TV? Go for it with all the gusto of Kobe Bryant practicing his jump shot. Do you enjoy crafts? Perfect! Make the most beautiful string of beads or paper mache donkey imaginable. Focus your energy on one thing and one thing only with your goal being sheer perfection. And if that makes sense (and I suppose that's fine if it does), as long as whatever pursuit you obsess over is something that truly inspires you, brings you joy, and positively affects others in the same way, then diversion and distraction lose their negative connotations.
Now perhaps it's just me, but if I try to spread myself around too thin, then the quality of everything I'm doing suffers. I quit writing music to write words. I can't imagine doing both very well at the same time. Maybe some people can, but I can't. That's just me being honest with myself.
Then again, maybe it all comes down to desire. Another "D" word, as is Defeat.
Hee Haw
Distractions are of a smaller scale, although sometimes a distraction can grow to become a full on diversion.
Really, I'm just talking out of my ass right now. I haven't actually looked up any definitions for either of these words (definition being another word that starts with the letter 'd'), so feel free to disagree with my interpretations.
In case you haven't guessed already, today's topic is inspired by my continual need to plow forward on my current project--that being this silly novel I'm trying to write in a month's time. Regarding this, I've checked out a few of the sites floating around the internet where writers talk about writer stuff, to see if anyone really succeeds in this task. I assumed that, like myself, I would find all sorts of folks commiserating on their lack of progress and the feeling that they're churning out nothing but stinky piles of crap, and I would feel okay about being just under where I should be at this point in the game. Instead I find just the opposite. People who have already surpassed the 50k word goal and are working on the sequel to their nano-novel. What? You're going to write a series of books in a month? Plus, some of these people get very offended when it's suggested that what they're writing may not be quite the quality you would find in a work that...well...let's just say some people are convinced that they can write an epic novel in a month and it will come out publishable.
Good for them.
Given this, I can only assume that in these people's lives, they are not plagued with the diversions and distractions I seem to run across every day.
But here's the thing...Isn't that what life is? A series of diversions and distractions to fill the days until you die? I know that sounds pretty fatalistic. But even in the pursuit of higher meaning, aren't you just looking for a way to keep from being bored? I say this with a bit of my tongue firmly planted in my cheek, but still, I can't help but allow that idea to creep in, out, and around my brain from time to time. Is there such a thing as a worthwhile diversion, or a legitimate distraction? Or, when it all comes down to it, is one time-waster just the same as another. If that is true, then maybe it's best to pick a pursuit that truly motivates you and stick to it. You like watching TV? Go for it with all the gusto of Kobe Bryant practicing his jump shot. Do you enjoy crafts? Perfect! Make the most beautiful string of beads or paper mache donkey imaginable. Focus your energy on one thing and one thing only with your goal being sheer perfection. And if that makes sense (and I suppose that's fine if it does), as long as whatever pursuit you obsess over is something that truly inspires you, brings you joy, and positively affects others in the same way, then diversion and distraction lose their negative connotations.
Now perhaps it's just me, but if I try to spread myself around too thin, then the quality of everything I'm doing suffers. I quit writing music to write words. I can't imagine doing both very well at the same time. Maybe some people can, but I can't. That's just me being honest with myself.
Then again, maybe it all comes down to desire. Another "D" word, as is Defeat.
Hee Haw
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