Wednesday, June 03, 2020

June Sweeps - Day 124

Today is my mid-week weekend trip to the family cabin.

I had meant to get up and spend the whole day at the cabin (my first visit on my own since November), but I had work I needed to get done first.  Don't get me wrong, I'm pleased to have income in an America with the highest unemployment rate in a century, and I'm especially fortunate since no business in their right mind would ever hire me.*  But it took a lot longer to get going than I anticipated.  I hoped to be out by eleven or so, then at noon, and then set the goal for one.  But it was two by the time I hit the post office, and then I grabbed lunch at the East Bay Burger King.

To my surprise, their lobby was open, and as I was about to go inside, I saw the sign posted on the door (there's a single glass door, and it was marked "Entrance Only," which was vexing) that said that both gloves and masks were required inside.  I went back and grabbed my mask, and went in, seeing a handful of customers eating, but none of them had gloves or masks (how on earth would you eat with a mask on anyway, I wonder**).

Burger King (or Queen!)
The girl behind the counter (who was wearing a mask) told me they had been open for three weeks, which seems incredibly unlikely, and that no, there was no policy for us to wear masks.  I asked her if there were any pandemic rules that had changed, no refills, for example.  She said no, though I did see marks on the floor where we're supposed to stand to social distance ourselves from other customers.

I hadn't eaten in a restaurant since March, possibly the trip to Las Vegas, when my nephew got a call that school was cancelled.  It felt . . . I dunno, kind of decadent and immoral, like when my roommate John and I walked past a strip club once and dared each other to go in (neither of us would).  I've cut down on fast food greatly this year--partly for the same reason I try to drink Coke Zero instead of the regular stuff, partly because of lack of opportunity--maybe I'll do it as a social thing only, once it all opens up again.

I drove up the canyon and for the long drive, tried listening to the audiobook I got from the library (I just wasn't feeling it, finding it a little too formulaic, and getting angry at all the ridiculous names like Freya and Fatima and Issa and Thea that she's saddled the characters with), but I probably won't stick with it.***  I have another audiobook in the car ready to go, and it's one of those multi-disc bastards that take me a whole season to get through.

I was surprised to find that it was eighty-five degrees in the little town that is the last remnant of civilization before you go up to the cabin.  Not a complaint--I love the heat, as you may know, and marvel at how much people around here like to bitch about it, yet I wouldn't dream of bawling about the cold of winter to strangers, because I wouldn't want to sound like a spoiled baby, which is exactly how they sound--but as I drove up the mountain, the degrees began to drop off, and it was seventy-three here, which is pleasant.

I didn't need to build a fire, and the heavy pajama bottoms that I made sure to bring along were unnecessary for me.  My three goals in coming to the cabin by myself are to write, edit, and read.  I also brought a DVD to watch for Marshal and my movie review show, and I found a spot on the floor to do some sit-ups.  I spent a while answering an email to Gino Moretto about the state of America this week and his point of view down there in New Zealand.  There was no way to send the email, so I saved it in a text file . . . and that turned out to be wise, because the computer crashed in the morning the next day, and everything that was open--including my word count and the first version of this blog post--was wiped out.

This is one occasion where working with Google Docs would not have saved me, since there is no internet at the cabin.  Luckily, it was not the first time (or the fifth) my laptop has crashed on me, so I had saved my work last night before I went to bed (er, couch).  I only ended up losing a page or so of work.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In June: 350

I got some writing done--quite a bit of writing, the Rowan story is inching along, and I opened up "Podcatcher" just as the sun was getting low on the horizon.   Then I decided to try my run again.  Last week, I was unable to make it even a quarter mile without gasping and heaving, and I blamed it on the altitude, so this time, I drove my car out to the dam that goes alongside the lake (I think they built it around 2015 or so) because it's fairly flat on the top, even though it's not paved.  I started up some song--"Happy Hour Again" by the Housemartins--meaning to at least run until it ran out . . .

. . . and I could only barely make it.  It has to be the altitude.  After three or four minutes, I was as winded as if I had been running as fast as I could, or doing the steep stairs at the park.  But, I paused for a minute, selected another song, and ran back to the car. 

Then I grabbed my camera, and did a Serenade in front of the lake, only realizing halfway through that I should've been filming the sunset, which wasn't visible anymore when I turned the camera.  Even so, it should replace the "Electric Blue" one as the video with the prettiest background, in October or so when I release it.

I finished the song--doing only one take because of the fading light**** and headed back to the cabin, hoping that it at least looked good, if not sounded good. 

Then, before it got fully dark, I wrote a bit more on "Podcatcher."  Because I had been influenced by the protests and outrage of this week, it affected the scene I wrote.  The character who I wrote as black just for the novelty of it became relevant in my current mindset. 

I debated using the n-word again, which I don't tend to even consider including, and haven't since "A Sidekick's Journey," but I felt like I needed to, because the whole reason for writing that particular scene was the tolerated racism that has existed in this country throughout the 20th (and now 21st) century.  I'll try and find somebody to ask about it, but I felt it needed to be there, to make a point about what blacks have suffered because of hatred, religion, and generational racism.

Look, I don't know how "Podcatcher" will end, or if it even will, so it's doubtful anybody will ever read it, so it's all probably a moot point.

The first time I wrote this blog, I didn't mention that part, focusing more on what the cabin and the forest looked like, and it is beautiful, but hey, you get what you get with me, and it's on my mind lately.  It's on everybody's mind.

Writing Today: 1621 Words
Words In June: 3556

*"I noticed it said 'mad genius' on your application when I gave you the job.  Well, now I see it was half right."

**I'm reminded of a Seventies Star Wars comic I read as a child, where Carmine Infantino had drawn Darth Vader with a cup of coffee in his hand, talking to Imperial Officers.  Even as a kid, I wondered how that would work.


***I have a personal policy of always giving every audiobook a chance to hook me: I'll listen to the entirety of the first disc (unless it's "Tick Tock" by Dean Koontz, of course), and then I will take it back, if it doesn't improve or catch my ear.  The first disc is like the first episode of a TV show--its job is to get you to want to watch the rest by introducing the characters, the world, and the situation.  That reminds me, I spoke to a lady last week about "Star Trek: Discovery" and she just went on and on, sacrificing a good long stretch of her morning to tell me about it (which does NOT happen in my social life, ever), the things that made it "Star Trek," the things that made it unique.  She told me she liked it better than "Picard," and that it's her favorite Trek series.  That made me want to give that show another chance, but everything I have heard about it, over the last three or so years (I don't know how it could have had two short seasons but been on since 2017, but that seems to be the case) tells me it is not for me.  And I did watch the pilot of that one, and wanted nothing more to do with it beyond that (Chelsea, the lady I was talking to, did say that one of the things I didn't like about the pilot--that the Michael Burnham character flaunted the rules and her orders--is one of the things she loves about the show, so we may just be too different).  But after that conversation, I did talk to my cousin about it, who has been bugging me for at least two years about giving the show another chance.

****I often have some kind of mishap that requires me to start again, whether it's a car alarm going off, something falling from the stack in the storage unit, the camera falling off the stand, the entire tripod falling over, discovering I've left my pants off, or most often, me forgetting the words.  I'll then have to go over, delete the file, and try to do it again.  Every once in a while, if somebody drives by or honks, or gunshots ring out (not an Elton John fan, I see), or I stumble, I'll just keep going, and that's why you get the occasional jumpcut in my videos.  But I'm not a fan of those--my favorite YouTube has around a hundred jumpcuts in every one of her videos, and I always wonder just what the devil she's cutting out all the time (probably just "ums").

Tuesday, June 02, 2020

June Sweeps - Day 123


Jeez, I only have 65 words so far.  That's terrible, shameful, even . . . but if that's all I end up with, at least I haven't broken my streak. 

I certainly made up for it in sit-ups, kids.  How bizarre my life has gotten.

Sit-ups Today: 150
Sit-ups In June: 250

Today was my early day, I tried to get as much work done as possible in preparation for going into the mountains tomorrow, and then I went to my cousin's for most of the night.  I didn't manage to write much, but I did force myself to work for a while before I left to meet him.

I will do better tomorrow, barring the unforeseen.

Ooh, that would make for a great movie title.  Roger Corman presents . . . THE UNFORESEEN.


Words Today: 726
Words In June: 1945

Monday, June 01, 2020

June Sweeps - Day 122

Day 122.  Aw, what the heck.

I’m at the library computer for the first time since March, and I’m determined to get some work done.  The only other customer is the blind Korean man* that I used to see here every other time or so.

I’m wearing a mask while writing.  That has never happened before.  It’s certainly uncomfortable, and I don’t know that I can do this every day, but depending on how many words I get while sitting here (thirty-six so far), I might do this once or twice a week.  And before long, they’ll probably let us not have masks on as long as we’re socially distancing.  We’ll see.
I'm sorry for whining, but I really did hate having it on for those two hours.  Makes me wonder about the folks that have to wear one for eight hours a day at their jobs. 

Not much more to post here today.  I did alright as far as writing goes.  Tonight I plan on sitting down and recording at least a third of "Three-Time Visitor."**

I may not get to it (have to edit my Patreon address, and tomorrow is my second Tuesday in a row I'm getting up early [ugh]), but we're gonna do what we can to make this June a positive one.

Sit-ups Today: 100
% of Goal (3000): .03

Words Today: 1219
*I was told, when I checked in to use a computer, that if I needed help, I would get none because of social distancing.  I was fine with this.  But when the blind guy started asking the lady to help him, and she said, from her desk, "I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to go over there," I really started to question the policy. 
Of course, I could have stood up and gone over to see if I could help the man.  It may have been he just needed someone to direct him to YouTube or possibly some website that assists the blind.  Dang.

**Last night, I decided to split it into three acts: Visit 1, 2, and 3, and I hope that the story is at least half as good in 2020 as I thought it was in 2019 when I was writing it.

Sunday, May 31, 2020

May Sweeps - Day 121


This is an indication of how big a geek I am.  I've loved the number 121 for more than thirty years because Amazing Spider-man 121 was the issue when Gwen Stacy was killed.  And yet, the number 122 (ASM 122 is when the Green Goblin meets his demise) holds no special meaning for me.

Today is the last day of May, and I didn't get a great deal of writing done.  I feel like I achieved quite a bit: I recorded my Patreon address, did a little editing, recorded a song at the storage unit, bought some groceries, ate tacos with my family, went for a hike, did a shortened jog, managed a record number of push-ups, recorded the rest of Abbie Hilton's story, and used up the last ninety-eight of my paid-for listings on eBay.  I also answered emails, got my clothes out of the laundry, and spoke to Big Anklevich.

I didn't get that much written, but it was more than nothing, and every bit adds up.

Sit-ups Today: 150
Sit-ups Total: 1,888 (in June, I'll set the goal of 2000, which should be as easy as--you know what, I'll set the goal for 3000.  Because that will be hard)

I did my weekly hike today, and still couldn't find the place I went in March.  So I just parked a couple of miles down the road and walked all the way to the head of the trail. 


I have little to say, except that I decided, "What the heck," and climbed up to the waterfall again.  I mean, I was there anyway.
It was 94 out, and the water was still cold.
SOOO many people were there, taking pictures or getting wet or both.  I actually climbed up the mountain a ways and sat on a rock reading for a few minutes, just to be away from people.
You can see how steep it was at the steepest point below (and also just how many people were climbing at the same time).
There were a couple of places where the trees had overgrown the trail and created a leafy ceiling, and that was really cool.  I didn't find any cellphones or sticks this trip, though.

Just to say I did it, I decided to jog back to my car.  All this exercise is so out of character, it would be like me purposely waking up early on Tuesdays.


Words Today: 655
Words In May: 31,735

That's nearly two thousand words less than in April, but it still comes to a thousand words a day, and that's just fine.  We'll see if I make it to the library tomorrow, and if I do, what I can manage while I'm there.  Oh, and I have to see how I did on my May goals (probably not great).

Saturday, May 30, 2020

May Sweeps - Day 120


I took the laptop to the park today for a late lunch (I worked until two, then I'll go back and get a bit more done), and there are a couple of young men (around twenty, probably forced home from their missions early) standing in the stream, picking out the biggest rocks they can throw up onto the banks.  I've watched them do it, first with curiosity, now with mild disdain, as they toss the big
rocks out of the water, move along to the next one, and do it until there are many rocks alongside the stream.  Then they get out and pick each rock up and toss it further up the bank.

My assumption is that this is exercise.  The gyms are all closed, they aren't allowed to have sex, so they're doing what they can to keep themselves occupied and in shape.  Except that they--

Oh, I get it now.  I watched where they were tossing the rocks, all in the same place, and now I understand: they are damming up the stream.  They're using the biggest rocks to stop up the waterflow, I presume just for the fun of it.  Maybe they're younger than I thought.  But no harm done, I think I value what they're doing more now than I did.  Plus, it's keeping me from writing, and that is the most important thing.
The dam-in-progress
Despite the unseasonal heat of the day, there is a strong wind blowing that is making this all pretty pleasant.  I am one of approximately seven people here, in the whole park.  To put that into perspective, when I'd come here in the wintertime, there would usually be five or six people jogging or milling around.  On a normal weekday afternoon, there will be thirty to forty, but for there to be practically nobody on a Saturday, something is going on I'm not aware of.  Maybe it's a protest somewhere.

There are a bunch of protests going on across America right now.  Half of them are Trump supporters up in arms (literally, the fucks actually take weapons to these protests because they know they'll not be bothered, even by police) about the phony left-wing COVID-19 hoax the Democrats invented to tank the economy and try to trick good old boys into wearing facemasks.

The other half of the protests are about a man who was killed while being arrested by Minneapolis police.  He was a black man, unarmed, who expressed "I can't breathe" as one of the cops knelt on the back of his neck.  It's one of, I dunno, a thousand cases of this sort of thing happening, but it both happened to have been documented and occurred in a time when tensions are super-high, so there has been a huge outcry about it, with marches, vandalism, messages on social media, and looting.  The response to these demonstrations has been very different, and that has only enflamed the tensions.

Tensions between the races have been high for my entire lifetime, and I don't know what the solution is.  I used to think that one day, the racists would die out, and we'd enjoy a more golden age as people, but racism is taught and passed on, like religion or storytelling or language, and there's always a new generation willing to say that "____ aren't like the rest of us.  They're not really people."

The black voices have been very loud in all this, because they're sick to death of this sort of thing continually happening.  Being a policeman is hard (my cousin started out as a deputy and is now part of the local equivalent of the Special Crimes Unit, and he sees the worst mankind has to offer), but there are people who get a little power in them and it seems to increase their racist or violent tendencies, as much as a gang or prison does.  I do understand that being around criminals all the time can make you think that everybody's a criminal, but it will always be hard for me to fully grasp the plight of the black man in this country.

When I lived in L.A., I became friends with several African Americans (only one of which, sadly, I still talk to all the time), and they did have an innate sense of Us versus Them when they got together, which I often found myself on the outside of.  I always wanted them to know that I liked and respected them, regardless of race, but it just wasn't possible for me to blend in with them like it was on the rare occasions that I spent time around Latinos (where at least I had the language as an advantage).

My friend Matthew once told me, "You have no idea what it's like to feel eyes on you every time you walk into a 7-11, because the clerk is afraid of your skin color."  And he was right--the only comparisons in my experience have been when somebody came after me and my cousin at a Walmart one night to make sure we weren't shoplifting, or a time when I got pulled over (again, with my cousin) by a cop who said, "You just couldn't help yourself, huh?  You thought you'd drive by one more time."  I didn't know what he was talking about, and said so.  He accused us of being the guys who were driving around, making trouble, getting chased by the cops all night (or several nights, maybe).  But I explained we'd just come from Taco Bell, and I hadn't been in town until just now.

And he took our word for it and let us drive away.  But you hear stories ALL THE TIME about black guys getting pulled over and harassed like that because they've got dark skin, or because their car is too nice, or because their grandparents wouldn't ride at the back of the bus.  Would that policeman have just let me go my way, if I hadn't been a dorky white guy?  I do try to understand, try to empathize, but I admit that I don't know what it's like, and the few glimpses I've had--somebody locking their doors in a parking lot as I walk past their car, for example--are almost always the exception rather than the rule.

I remember telling Matthew, "When you and I are older, we'll get together and your kids will play with my kids, and we'll raise them to believe we're all the same and they'll look at us, white and black, as best friends, and their lives will be better."  It seems charmingly na├»ve to repeat it now, but it was heartfelt at the time, because I had found in him a brother (not a brutha, but somebody who I loved like he had always been there, part of my family), and I thought that would last forever.  My friendship with him changed me, for the better, as a human being, but not everybody has that kind of relationship, and like the Cash song says, everyone I know goes away in the end.

I've heard some of the protesters say they don't want whites on their side, that this is our fault, so we should save our tears and expressions of support.  And I sort of get that, or at least I'm trying to.  But They win every time we're divided against one another instead of against Them, you know?  The best I can do is try to do what I can in my small sphere of influence, open my mind up a little more than it has been, and see if I can't make myself better.

Once again, I'm blogging when I should be writing.  If blogposts counted as daily words, I'd be over 200,000 by now.

Since I sat down here, the rock-dammers have stopped and gone home (leaving their job only half-finished), a small group of about ten came and sunbathed for a little while (too far away with my eyesight to really ogle), and a boyfriend and girlfriend went over to the baseball diamond and practiced batting with each other.  Such a dearth of activity I again wonder what I'm unaware is happening elsewhere that everybody is so focused on.

I just checked yesterday's post, where I was at a park with a swimming pool and it was filled to the brim with people (if I had to guess, I'd say two hundred, maybe three), and it was just as hot as today, only a day different.  I can't explain it.


I got VERY little writing done as I sat on the blanket under the tree in the empty park.  Well, I did the word count, and it was six hundred words, so maybe not so very little.  I may have mentioned this, but Monday, the library reopens.  I feel like I did talk about this, but I'll reiterate that, you have to wear a mask to go into the library, and you have to ask permission to use their computers (after which, they'll wipe down the mouse and keyboard, and probably the seat).  No one is allowed to stay longer than two hours, apparently (my guess is that this rule--and the mask one--will not last beyond June first, just because of human nature).  My plan, if I can get my work done in time, is to go there and sit and write like I used to, but REALLY focus my time--no surfing the internet, no messing around on Wikipedia.

Shoot, I just remembered I have to do a Patreon address this weekend.  I will be embarrassed to admit I haven't even started recording "Three-Time Visitor," which was a goal for both April and May, if I recall.  And I can't make it a priority tonight, because I haven't gone running, and I need to sit down and record Abbie's story, which is called "Lucky."  She and I spoke for a good while today, and I regret mentioning that we butt heads in yesterday's post.  She's good people, and have a couple of profoundly similar things in common.  I must just be intimidated by her intellect.

Sit-ups Today: 82
Sit-ups Total: 1738

I got no more writing done at night.  I sat down and started recording "Lucky," and before I knew it, I was falling asleep.  It takes a tremendous amount of concentration to get all the accents, words, and performances right, so I stopped and went to bed.  Tomorrow I will try again.

Words Today: 607
Words In May: 31,080

Friday, May 29, 2020

May Sweeps - Day 119


I turned in my script today (two days late, but ah well).  I went to the park, sat at a table, and read through it all before sending it in, and I was amazed at how many people (young people, one and all) were out and frolicking in the pool next to the park.  It looked pretty fun, except I'd feel both fat and grandfatherly were I in there with them.

I'd much rather go on a hike, though it doesn't look likely tonight.  I had plans to go hiking with two high school friends (the same ones referred to in my upcoming "Round & Round" episode*), but they fell through.  We'll try again next week.

As far as the script goes: is it perfect?  Oh, hell no, Big Anklevich!  But was it something I worked hard on and did my best with?  Absolutely.  And that's something I can use to get me through the night.

I also took an hour to read through Abbie Hilton's new short story (for her Patreon supporters, and an eventual anthology) which I'll start recording, I dunno, tomorrow probably.  What can I say, her penchant for cats notwithstanding, she can really craft a tale.  I do wish we didn't butt heads all the time, but I am always grateful when she sends me stuff to narrate.

Sit-ups Today: 83
Sit-ups Total: 1656

It has been unseasonably hot the past two days.  Tomorrow it will be ninety-six**, which is close to a record high for the end of May.  I care not if I alienate all of you in saying that I don't mind the heat, and much, much much prefer it to the cold.  I took the laptop outside to get a little sun and try and write someplace with a breeze, but the glare makes it hard to see the screen.  Even so, I typed a couple of paragraphs on my Mason/Rowan story.  I made a joke early on that there's a Marvel character named Ronan, and now I inadvertently type it as "Ronan" nearly every time.  Joke's on me, as it usually is.

Big Anklevich and I have in common this tendency to write huge, sprawling epics that stretch out of control and we never, ever publish (the only difference is that I consider 30,000 words as epic, and he considers 100,000 words the equivalent).

Words Today: 833
Words In May: 30,473



*Going to publish it today or tomorrow for my Patreon supporters.  That means they did get three episodes in May (and charged for four, tee hee hee), which was one of my goals.

**That's not a prediction, I actually added that bit tomorrow.

Rish Outcast 172: Interesting Times


So, I got another quick episode out in a (vain) attempt to make my goal this month.

In this one, I talk about what's been up the past weeks, Mother's Day, a couple more stories about being an extra, and wax nostalgic (or revolting) about the Carousel ice cream parlor.



To download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

To support me on Patreon, Click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Interesting Crimes" Moretto.

February Sweeps - Day 118


Well, I missed my deadline, and I feel pretty bad about it.  Spoke to one of the producers today, and told him I had two hurtles to overcome: the lack of a narrator makes the action semi-impossible to depict, and one of the character's motivations don't exist yet.  I told him I would keep working on it, but said that I was less confident in this draft than in the first.  Surprisingly, he was not thrilled to hear that.

I don't know why I ever thought that I could write for pay and work for other people.  Big Anklevich never lets me forget that, when we were in college, and shooting a student film I wrote, that I exploded at all the other guys, "While every single one of you was either sleeping last night or out having sex, I was in front of the computer until four am trying to get this written!"  I guess that was pretty funny for him to hear, since the front of his pants were still moist when I was having my little outburst.

But that's how it is.  It's oh-so-easy to see that the story falls apart in the third act, sitting in a comfortable executive's chair (which cost more than I was paid to do the script), but it's far less simple to write something in the first place, or try to figure out how it won't fall apart, or fix it when it does.

Man, I look forward to oblivion.  Like I said when that car zoomed past me last night, "Sweet death, is that you?"  Then I sulked for another block.

Maybe I should be done with this daily writing thing.  It doesn't help that it's now a competition between Big Anklevich and me (although hey, maybe it always was, and it certainly didn't bother me when I was the one in the lead, did it?), and he seems to have found his muse, while I am increasingly despondent that I ever thought I could be happy, when everything leading up to this moment should have clued me in that I won't be.

Where's that Smiths song when I need it?

So, I opened the screenplay.  The two main characters are Nat and Alec, and I realized that, if I had Alec intuit that something was a big deal to Nat, that was motivation enough to get him where I need him.  Not too bad.

I dedicated most of my afternoon to it, and got through to the end.

INT. FILTHY BEDROOM - NIGHT

Rish, bathed in the glow of his new laptop, lets out a RELIEVED SIGH.

But it just occurred to me, I didn't keep track of my words the whole afternoon--changing lines here and there, adding new bits, trying to condense dialogue, replacing Nat's angry father with his more pleasant one, etc..  How do I manage, then?

Sit-ups Today: 130 (is that a record?  If not, I'll do a few more before I go to sleep)
Sit-ups Total: 1573

Speaking of exercise, my Uncle John came over today.  He used to be more into exercise than anybody I knew, actually being a high school wrestler and part-time body builder.  At his peak, his arms were as big as my tendency toward self-loathing.

Anyway, he's been trying to lose weight lately and dedicate himself to exercise, and talked to me about my nightly routine.  I told him how my body always wants to quit at right before the half-mile point in every one of my runs--except for the few times it wants to give out before then.  He speculated that that was my body's way of trying to get me to stop, and that I only get the endorphin rush afterwards by pushing past that point of surrender.  He then demonstrated his recent regimen of push-ups by doing, I kid you not, 150 of them on the floor in front of me.

He then wanted me to feel his wrists, biceps and chest, but I'll not go into that.

After finishing the screenplay, I got some exercise of my own, nearly posted an Outcast episode, considered publishing a story on Amazon, and wrote just a bit on "Only Have Eyes."  I feel a bit less worthless today than yesterday.  Funny that.

Words Today: 1637(ish)
Words In May: 29,640
Words Total: 150,869

Thursday, May 28, 2020

Storage Unit Serenade 17


So, this one should be kind of interesting. It's the first one I've done in two different locations, the first in March, the second in May. Unfortunately, the results were mixed, but it does have my favorite backdrop of any of these I've done.


Stats
Pre-Eighties Songs: 5
Eighties Songs: 5
Nineties Songs: 4
Aughts Songs: 0
Teens Songs: 3

Logo by Gino "All Over You" Moretto.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

May Sweeps - Day 117


My story "Only Have Eyes For You" is up over thirty-four thousand words now.  It feels to me like one of those projects I'll never be finished with, like "The Wolves of Winter."

 I really need to focus on this screenplay.  Why did I tell them I'd have it done in a week?

Well, today was pretty bad, I guess, as far as writing goes.  But wow, it's another day where I cannot muster a shit to be given.  I worked on my script for as long as I could stand it, and even though it's nearly done, I fear it's also worse than it was a week ago.  The point of the story was to be a small, heartwarming story for one person.  I can't make it mean more than that.  Oh, I'm trying, but I fear I'm actually taking it farther away from what the producers want with this draft.

And that can only lead to more drafts.

But who knows, maybe I'll look at it again tomorrow, and it will all come together, or I'll be inspired on how to fix it, or it'll just look better because of magic.

Regardless, I'm pretty disappointed with myself today, and when I went running, with every car that passed me by, I cynically hoped I'd be run over, just to show the universe how pointless this all has been.  So, so pointless.

Like my sit-ups.

Sit-ups Today: 118
Sit-ups Total: 1443

Words Today: 891
Words In May: 28,003