today i do not feel like writing anything, in fact i am having an argument with my ASPIRING WRITER unit. he claims fatigue brought on by dallying with friends on facebook and maintenance of two other blogs [link] [link] i claim he is just LAZY. he is impossible that way – though he did spend an hour sorting and ordering his research notes. not that he has very many notes to sort, but i guess it will have to count in his favor. anyway, since this argument has not come to a resolution – no writing today. sorry guys.
Tag Archives: procrastination
I read my my wife’s blog almost religiously, so when I came across this post by her, I had a very strong urge – to READ the book – “Skipping Christmas” by John Grisham. You can see my comment to her post here. I read it. The night before last.
It is a wonderful story. Not just the ending, which is delightful, and yes indeed a tear teaser, but the entire story.
It is a story about a man’s determination to not give into the social pressures of his neighborhood. It might be that his initial motivation is financial – 6100 USD worth of motivation – but beneath that lies his desire to do things his way, because he decides it’s his way. To stop being dragged around by traditions and conventions. Despite some rather personalized attempts from his neighbors to ‘break’ him.
It is also a story about that same man throwing all his resolutions to the winds for the sake of love.
It is about a neighborhood that, when there is a need can put aside personal and collective dislikes and simply SHOW UP for the sake of love and the Season Spirit. And about a man’s willingness to show humility and accept that his annoying neighbors are so much more than that.
I came away from the reading liking Luther Krank and his Nora, as two genuinely Menschlich people. I also came away from the reading amazed indeed – I am used to read John Grisham – you know, the thriller author – and put the book down feeling that I had just put down a piece of literary fiction that is truly that. LITERARY fiction at its best.
That aside – I have earned another of Merit Badger’s Badges.
I simply do not want to struggle with that monster. I don’t frigging care if my characters get eaten alive by some bloodcurdling nasty behemoth from the depths of Hel. Right now I don’t even care if I finish the novel and get my finished proof copy from CreateSpace…
I got this:
That’s enough – right now…:D
“Writing Prompts!” I thought, and found this web site.
“When you were little, you could swear there was a monster under your bed–but no one believed you. On the eve of your 30th birthday, you hear noises coming from under your bed once again. The monster is back and has an important message to deliver to you.”
As an adult who still have monsters under my bed, I cannot resist this one :) so let’s see what I can concoct, shall we?
I come home late from a meeting. Throwing my clothes on a chair in the hallway I decide to go to bed right away. Tomorrow is my 30th birthday. Switching off the bedside lamp I snuggle in under the covers. Just before I am about to fall asleep I hear a sound I have not heard in twenty-five years. I stiffen, stifle my breath and listen. I pull the covers over my head, leaving a small gap to breathe through. A faint scratch. Small, sharp claws shuffling swiftly over the floor under my bed. A dry rustle. Small, clever paws shoving at old newspapers and paperbacks. My heart beats against the ribs in its cage. I widen the crack in the covers and peer out. Nothing but streaks of light and shadow born by the street lamps outside. A whispering chitter envelopes my bed, seeps into my brain. The scratch noises turn into shredding, the rustle becomes ripping, the chitter rises to a roar. Air tearing through my bedroom. Next nothing. Silence. The thudding of my heart, the breathing of my lungs and the rushing of blood in my veins batter my senses, but from without only quiet. My heart slows, my breathing deepens and my blood cools. I dare not take the covers from my head just yet. I listen. I hear nothing. A sigh of relief escapes me. I peek over the rim of my covers. My eyes sweep the room. I reach for the bedside lamp.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The voice is deep and distinct, like a bronze bell. I bolt upright in bed. Looking around in puzzled panic, I clench the covers to my chin. I blink in disbelief. There is a creature in the end of my bed. It is black, sleek, body and size of an average dog, with wings like a bat. It cocks its head to the side and smiles. A low rumble follows the smile.
“What are you?” I ask. My heart and stomach swap places frantically.
“Now, that is impolite.” It frowns. “Try again.”
I rack my brain. Impolite how?
“Who are you?”
“I am Brom.” The rumble increases. “I am your guardian gargoyle.” It smiles again, and bends to inspect a claw on one of its front paws.
“Guardian gargoyle?” Disbelief courses through me.
“Yes.” It blinks, abandons the claw and looks at me.
“I believed you were here to kill and eat me. That was what I heard from under my bed when I was a boy.” I shake my head, still not believing.
“I know. I was not alone under your bed when you were a boy. From now on I will be the only monster under your bed. Happy Birthday, Henric!” It flutters to the floor and disappears under the bed. I sit flabbergasted, no longer afraid. I chuckle. Imagine that! A guardian gargoyle under my bed. I grin.
“Good night, Brom!” I say and return to snuggle under the covers.
fixed my blog – it now looks like it should, and I decided to give it a seasonal theme – winter.
read the books of others – the current story of temptation is the Black Magician’s Trilogy by Trudi Canavan.
Now, I am pretty confident that I will be done with my novel in time for NaNoEdMo.
Plus, I have not been totally slacking off – I do write down ideas…
I just wish I knew how to get that Shadow Wyrm onto paper…
…to get out of dealing with my literary monsters…
make a number of 350×350 stock photo pspimage templates – so I can make icons for my blog.
compose and make 7 artworks size 350x350px – so I can make smaller icons for my blog.
resize those 7 350x350px images so they are all 175x75px.
resize all images I have used in my Literary Lint blog so far, so they are ALL 175x175px (symmetry is good, and it will look messy if my post-icons are different sizes…)
re-organize my image folders on my computer, so that each size has its own folder, and each image file type is sorted nicely.
plan my blogging, so that I can write entries in advance and have my blog ‘self-publish’ those entries (one a day).
write this blog entry.
That is only thus far today.
Mind you, I am full of the intention to deal with that crappy monster, I ‘just have to do this… first.
I am sure that by day’s end I will have done all sorts of things that have nothing to do with my novel or my monsters.
So today I have to do a whole lot of Writing.
… but…. what’s the use? No-one reads this blog or care about many words I get in the bank…
I asked someone on NaNoWriMo to be my writing buddy – they didn’t even reply to my NaNoMail….
I am sorry, Hart, but that is REALLY bad form, since I can see in my NaNoMail that you have received my note. At least have the frigging decency to reject me ‘face-to-face’.
I am kind of hard to wake – I’ll be moving about, yes, but I will hardly be awake before at least one or two cups of coffee/tea – so imagine my surprise when I had downed my second cup and looked straight into the butt ugly mugs of the two shiny examples of Troll kind – Mr. Entitled and Mr. Procrastination. Sitting right across the kitchen table, peering at me from behind my laptop monitor. They had helped themselves to beverages from the fridge … the impudence of Scratchy and Itchy! I swear they even brought their own flies, fleas and spiders.
What exactly did these two gentlemen want?
They very solemnly stated that they were there to help the hardworking author.
Quite simply they wanted me to ‘Take The Day Off!”, because as Mr.Entitled expressed it “I had been such a good boy and written 1800+ words on the 7th/8th”, and because, Mr. Procrastination added, “I don’t know where to go with the Story anyway…”and “I really need to do my own illustrations…”
Where is Animal Control when you need them?
Well, they almost had me. Almost. Neither of these guys passed Logics Class in school, that’s for sure. Having written a little over 200 words past the daily goal I still need to put in at least 1400 words in the coming 24 hours. That took care of Mr. Scratchy. Since I can’t draw to save my life, suggesting that I do my own illustrations is ludicrous, which I told Mr. Itchy. Oh, they are still around here somewhere, picking their noses and looking stupid.
I wish they’d walk the dog and make me coffee – that would be really helpful.