It Begins

After a hurried morning and a nice lunch with the grandparents, I am now sitting in lounge chair in my room at the Inn at the Park B&B. I'm trying to find a nice place to get dinner, a good bar to watch the game in, or alternatively a good place to get the supplies to watch it in my room as I type this.

Something of a big question: what do I do with myself now that I have no one else to work around? Part of the reason for this trip is to refresh my memory of what I like to do for me, not simply what is convenient and acceptable. It's not something I've had the chance to think of in a long time, and I haven't been in a position to act on what thoughts I've had in longer.

The wine the give away for free (Ryan's liver: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!") is left out too long, I think. It's strong and drinkable, but close to turning. (Ryan's liver: "Whew.") I'm about to head out and get what I need to complete my exhaustive experiments on martinis and what makes the best ones. (Ryan's liver: "Fuck!") There's an italian place close by, I'm told, or I can go to Fourth Street live and its cajun place, I'm thinking, and close by is what looks like a good sports bar for me to watch Colts vs. Dolphins. $2 draft Buds and $0.50 wings, sounds fun!!

Failure: A Perspective

The artist I was going to work with to bring "Losing Yourself" to publication will be finishing his involvement with the project after only twelve pages. My short stories continue to be denied publication, my novel series concept only gets more intimidating, and I haven't touched the screenplay project in weeks. One could easily consider this a list of failures, but I don't for a couple of reasons.

For one thing, this is twelve more pages than I had to begin with, and I can do just about anything I want with them. I own the copyright. Which means I can throw the word balloons together and at least have something I can show someone and say, "THIS is what I've been going on about." That is so much more concrete an experience than simply delivering a pitch, and it shows that I have really tried.

For another, this is not a definite ending. We've broke this relationship cleanly and all friendly-like, so should we find ourselves in a more compatible position later we can pick right back up. That is a more professional and more humane way to stop than some of the absolute horror stories one hears in the comic and graphic novel industry; tears, a sailor's dictionary, and months of defamation aren't standard, but they're also not uncommon, and I'm happy to have avoided them.

And here's something I just thought of today: when someone asks me what I'm up to, I have a lot more to say than "well, nothing much." Some people may think I'm insane for trying, others may not have meant to hear anything other than something about the weather, a couple might even think of someone that can help, but no one thinks that I'm being lazy. Except maybe the people that think I'm lying, but then those aren't the people I'm trying to impress. The act of attempting is, if all else fails, a marvelous conversation piece.

Tonight, socializing with fellow comic book nerds. Tomorrow, Windy City Con. And then, Louisville!

Next Week: A World Apart

After everything that's happened over the summer, I'll be taking a vacation. The idea appeared in my head one day after my third trip to the same department, and M suggested that she'd cave my head in if I didn't take some time off, so the idea became a plan.

I'll be going to Louisville, KY, exactly where is currently in a state of quantum flux but it should be nice. I know no one in Louisville, and there's no major event going on that I know about. It's just a day's drive away, with no one but me to consider. It's the first time in living memory that I've had a vacation by myself. Not to give the impression that I don't like those close to me, but I am really sick of people these days.

The idea is that I will get a lot done of what I love doing: reading, writing, and probably drinking. I'll try to update regularly while down there.

A Super Short Interlude

And one that doesn't bode well for my immediate productivity:

Batman: Arkham Asylum is a truly grand video game experience. It captures the atmosphere, mechanics, and terrible awesomeness of what you might imagine it's like to BE BATMAN. The voice acting is incredible (especially for fans of the Bruce Timm cartoon series), and the creators were clever and thoughtful everywhere they could have been clever and thoughtful. Someone noted that the only way to improve it as a game would be a co-op option with Robin, but as a self-described narrative whore I say keep the child away from this madhouse of fun.

Avoiding Writing with More Writing

I have to leave soon for a gathering at 4. Before that, I wanted to get a stressful letter polished and sent. I have it drafted, I've been told it does what I want it to do, it just needs polish. But it's going to hurt, so I'll blog first.

Within three days of my coworker recovering, he hurt the same foot in a different way. This was great, as it inspired me to come up with no less than five different swear words, since I'm the one that has to cover for him. Another good tidbit is that he didn't hurt it so bad this time, so he should be fine to work Monday.

I've found myself drifting towards my book series concept recently. It began years ago when I came up with a family during a writing exercise, and theother members of my group insisted on more. They've come up time and again, and then last year I decided that I should really figure out WHERE these people live. It turned out that this concept was a much bigger beast than I'd intended, and the single short story I was planning on to cover it was a laughably pathetic package. The more I get into it, the more I find to love.

I'm planning on planning a vacation in the coming month or so. As many people and places I'd love to catch up with, I find myself very tempted to just drive an afternoon, find a place to stay for a few nights, and write all day followed by bar crawling at night. I do not remember the last time that I was alone alone for more than part of a day. I feel like that's troublesome. I don't know that I'm going to follow through yet, though, we'll see.

No Way. No. Effing. Way.

It would seem that my wounded coworker has in fact recovered. Monday, I'm back at my normal routine.

I have a lot to do. A LOT. Some of that is catch up, but at least as much is fresh work. A wise and focused person would take advantage of the weekend to get some of those things if not completed, at least organized into an easily approachable obstacle.

Screw that. Screw it all. Screw everyone. Nyaaaaaaaaaaa.

Uggggghhhhhhhhh

Good news: my artist continues to rock on levels I scarcely imagined being associated with. Also, the movie script I'm working on is coming along very well - in the process of getting the scene breakdowns ready, I've solved some problems my little siblings created, and I should be ready to start scripting very soon.

Bad news: work is to the point where I'm sore all the time, and I'm exhausted. Oy.

I got word that at least three good friends have had to break up with their partners recently, so it's been a stressful time for all of us. With some, at least, we can share pain over drinks before long, which will be cheerful I hope.