Writing Time

Did you ever see The Shining?  I love this scene.  Yeah, the film isn't as good as the book.  And there are gems about writing in the book-- LOTS of gems... But watch the scene.

As a woman, I used to hate the scene.  I mean, who the hell would want to be married to someone who talks to you like that?  Oh wait!  Wendy can't get away!  She is stuck in a snowbound hotel with fucking Jack as an asshole husband...  Except, he is kind of an asshole even in their first scene together, in the car.  Jump out, Wendy, jump out!  Rolling down a mountain has to be better than being married to him.

Feminist interlude over.  Yay!

Ahem.  As a writer, I have come to understand, and even appreciate the scene.  Watch it again...  Go on.  I will wait.

I get it.  Every time I am in the zone, and something interrupts, I think of it.  I want to throw my phone across the room for daring to ring.  I would rip the brains out of the telemarketers who start calling at 9:30AM, if they had any...and if they were within range.  I yell at the dog for barking.  I loathe the clock for going so fast.  I get to write 9-11:10 every weekday.  I get an extra hour on Fridays.  My writing time is precious.

So, yeah, I get cranky when I have to do non-writing things during my writing time.  Bills, doctor's visits, volunteer meetings, answering stupid emails from jackasses...

So.  Here is my solution.  I am going to ignore the phone...both of them.  I will not turn them off, in case the school calls-- I am not an unnatural mother.  I will NOT do email, or Facebook, or anything non-book related during my writing time.  I do have the occasional meetings or appointments, and will suffer through them.

Oh, and I love this clock.

Don't Let The Door Hit You In The Ass On Your Way Out

I am not sure if I have an appropriate mindset for blogging, truth be told...  I have been treating this as an online journal, which works for me.  I have told almost no one about this blog.  And I get kinda cranky when unknowns stumble across it.  Mostly because they comment by leaving SPAM.

SPAM sucks.  So, SPAMMERS... this is for you... (she says with an evil smile):

Dear Jay /Mike /Other "casual" name,


Yeah, I kinda noticed that no one reads my blog.  Do you really think I ought to use the service you used to increase your hits?  'Cause, wow, wouldn't it be awesome to get a dozen or more hits in a day!  Zowee...  Where have I been going wrong?  


Oh wait.  I know.


I don't promote my blog.  Anywhere.  Not on Faceborg, not to my friends.  Hell, most people don't even know I have a blog.  And, see, you just MIGHT have noticed that it is kinda hard to comment on my blog.  I set it up that way...so not just any jackass can leave comments, or, for example, SPAM on my on-line journal.


Huh.  Do you kinda see where this is going?  Yeah.  I don't give a shit if you think I can increase my traffic.


I haven't exactly laid out the welcome mat, have I?


Thanks ever so!


Yours truly,
Zombie Grrrl

A zombie interlude from a zombie pervert

This will be quick.  I need to get back to the writing.  I have just over 30 pages to read aloud, and then I... gulp... will be sending it out to five folks for peer review.  I have consulted with my writing guru, and we compiled a short list of questions to help guide the reading.  I am scared shitless, lemme tell ya...

...which is why I so valued the zombie interlude yesterday.

Here is some quick background.  I am not a stupid person.  I may be impulsive sometimes, and incapable of making decisions at other times, but I am not stupid.  I will admit to willful ignorance on some issues.  This stems from a complete hopelessness regarding the human race.  Really.  I actually had high hopes for H1N1.  When I try to keep up with current events, the weight of my hopelessness crushes me.  And I don't honestly believe there is much to be done about changing the world that would not involve wholesale slaughter.  And, since I kinda have this thing about personally causing violence...  You see my problem?

Hence, my unending fascination with the zombie apocalypse.  How cool would it be to actually have CAUSE to take a machete to, oh, I don't know, Zombie Newt Gingrich?  Or Zombie Sarah Palin?  (She might be kept in a cage just for personal amusement-- who else could possibly have an increase in intelligence upon becoming a zombie?)

This is my profile picture on Faceborg.  Pretty, no?

So here's the story.  Yesterday, I re-posted a FB status from a friend who supports the OWS movement.  It was about the right to assemble.  A couple of friends got into a friendly debate about local ordinances versus the Bill of Rights.  Good stuff, good reading.  None of it was much of a surprise to me, but I came too late to the discussion to participate.  So, rather than saying something mind-numbingly boring like:  "Great discussion guys!  Thanks for keeping it civil and informative.  I certainly hope that this free exchange of ideas will help mankind somehow.  I kinda doubt it, but thank you for keeping hope alive."

Instead, I said:  "You guys are hawt."

Those of you who know me are not surprised.

A private message soon arrived in my FB inbox, and a marvelous exchange of zombified double entendre followed:


FRIEND:  You're pretty hawt yourself, my zombie queen. I'd eat your brains out any day... Oh my. That came out awkwardly. Ah well :)
ME: ROFLMAO!!! You are too awesome!
FRIEND:  I have it from several authorities on the topic that my skills are indeed awesome...
ME:  Oh, really? How intriguing? Would those skills involve slaying zombies or being the zombie? 'Cause it could go either way...
FRIEND:  I like it both ways... Though slaying zombies is my favorite part. I like the way they quiver at the final stroke.
ME:  Damn. Yeah, I so cannot top that comment. 


Anyhow.  It was a great laugh.  I am still giggling.  I hope you are smiling rather than thinking I am some kind of zombie pervert.  'Cause I SO am not... not really.

Irony

I vowed here to give up acting, right? I read it here. And here. I shared how suddenly I got some offers. Granted, they were for unpaid work. But, still, there they were. But that was gonna be it, right?

And then I checked my email that afternoon.... "Blah blah blah. Hey, will you be one of the actors in the new Christmas Follies?"

And then this week. "Hi, I own a murder mystery company,and would like to bring you on board, if you are interested."

So, here, I publicly declare: I no longer want a million dollars. Nope. I will give up my dream of a million dollars.

Oh, wait. That doesn't work. I have to reluctantly give up something that I care about, like acting, in hopes that the itch of something new, like writing, will be scratched. Remember what this blog is about, remember? "Not Doing It"

I really enjoy writing, and feel great satisfaction when I am writing. I feel this low grade urge ALL THE PHUCKING TIME to dive back into The General's Heir and finish that mutherphucker. I also have this new writing idea about zombies. I know, old hat now, but the itch doesn't care. This idea is simmering just like The General's Heir did. How I want to dig in...

And yet, acting calls, if you can call the clamoring a 'call'. More like a brick of noise to the side of the head. I won't do the follies, I think. One, I don't really want to, even if I love the producer. Two, really, if I am going to get pulled out of my writing from now on, it DAMN well better be for a paycheck. I am a mercenary, if nothing else. Or maybe a whore? Ha! I can see it now....

ME: Sorry, honey, no sex tonight-- I have to write.

HIM: Write? But I just put on the camo briefs you like!

ME: Think of this as my job. Just like the acting gigs.

HIM: Nope.

ME: What?

HIM: You are gonna have to spell it out for me. If I'm not getting any tonight, you have to explain.

ME: Okay, so, when I am sitting at the computer from 8-12 tonight, I am writing my book.

HIM: I thought you were finished with it!

ME: You are right. I am trying to finish the edits!

HIM: How is this like the acting gigs? I haven't seen you depositing any checks.

ME: Think about it like the rehearsals for the acting gigs. The paycheck just comes a little later.

HIM: I can buy that, I guess. But what is your time worth?

ME: Huh?

HIM: So, you have an acting gig. How much do you get paid?

ME: A hundred, I think, usually.

HIM: Huh. And how long are you gone when doing the acting gig?

ME: Oh, the usual? Two hours for the actual gig, but add another two for travel. So, four hours?

Him: So, you get twenty-five an hour for your time. Is that right?

ME: ...Well, I guess... when you put it like that...

HIM: And that doesn't include the rehearsal time, does it?

ME: ...Not as such...

HIM: 'Cause, hell, I have a twenty in my wallet, and we can be done in half an hour.

ME: ...Uh...

HIM: And, I will throw in a big O for you! You cannot get that kind of satisfaction from your paid gigs!

ME: ...But I am an Artist!

HIM: Artists gotta eat. Or, well, you know what I mean.

ME: But-

HIM: And you won't have to travel any farther than upstairs. And when we are done, you can go back downstairs and write!

ME: But I have to be in the right frame of mind, in the zone! I cannot just get on the computer and go through the motions, and fake it....

HIM: Uh-huh? What were you about to say?

ME: ...Um, get upstairs. And I will put on the sexy shoes.

(Apologies to the Hubby. He is incredibly supportive. Oh, and Happy Birthday to me. I am officially old now.)

Nut up or Shut up

I have been writing every day for the past week. Classes are over, I am free of the arts council stuff, and my two current directing projects are soooo much less consuming than my class projects. I think I can actually see me finishing the edits this week or next.

But, 'finishing' the book is just one more step. I have a shortlist of folks to read the book (I am aiming for mid-August, my friends), and then I'll get to do another round of edits, I suspect. I am hoping it is mostly small stuff-- clarification and continuity details, and grammar/spelling issues. I am HOPING that by the time the Boy begins school in September, I will be working on the soul-killing part-- the research on publishers and agents, the solicitations, and, of course, the rejections.

Frankly, I am looking forward to that part. Once the research is completed, and I start sending stuff out, I can jump back into working on Book 2, which now has a title!! I wrote my "Long Term Story Arc" (code for very loose outline) for the five novels. Book 2 will need a LOT of work now-- some things have changed in Book 1 since I split the two, so there are some slight alterations to characters, relationships, and also some BIG shifts for characters, plot, and relationships... It will be fun, I think.

But, now for the hard choice. A show that I have ALWAYS wanted to do is going up in October. I actually auditioned for a different company's production of this show about a year ago, but they couldn't get the men they needed (ha!). I was preparing to think about auditioning for this one, and then I stopped myself. If I do that show, it would seriously cut into my ability to work on my writing....

So, I am not doing it. And, I decided that I won't be acting until I at LEAST get Book 1 out the door. And that is that. One of the things from the March writing conference I attended in March, I keep on a sticky note on my computer monitor. I can see it right now. It says, "Make this a priority or don't."

I am not giving up acting. I love acting. My abilities as an actor are part of what make my characters the way they are. However, I began writing Book 1 on December 31, 2007. In the immortal words of Tallahassee (one of my favorite films Zombieland), I need to either "nut up, or shut up."

So, I am nutting up. No more acting, no more arts council, no additional volunteering opportunities, no more art projects....

Nut up or Shut up.

Bad, Naughty February!

February wasn't a good month for my Plan, apparently.

I didn't walk regularly. Now, there were some weather issues, and health issues, but still. I took no recharge breaks either. And, I have gone no further in figuring out what I am NOT going to do than setting a date for either resigning from my board or going inactive (June!).

However, I am pleased to report that I did finally finish the body of the book, and even added a prologue/short story. I don't know if the short story will be able to stand alone, but I am pondering it. Is there editing to do? You bet. I am also having to figure out some formatting issues. I plan to read the whole thing aloud in my final edit, before I get copies to my peer reviewers. I think I have them all picked out.

Additionally, I have a trip planned to Texas for the middle of the month. I need to see my grandmother. It has been four years since I last saw her, and I haven't visited my folks in about as long... I will also be seeing some high school and college classmates during the trip, which will be cool. It will also be a bit weird, methinks.

Let's see, anything else to report. Oh, yes, the 10-minutes one act play festival. I was asked by my boss if I would submit a script for this festival, and of course I said yes. I found out yesterday that submitting a script would mean not acting in any of the plays; and that it all has to be 'family friendly'... whatever the hell that means.

Rant time! Yay!!! I am so FREAKING sick of 'family friendly' theatre in this county. WHY does everything have to be family geared? Are adults second class citizens? I like dark humor, and language, and 'adult situations'... but can I see that on a stage in this county? NOT BLOODY LIKELY.... And it is not just the theatres.... it is everywhere... I cannot TELL you how many times I have gone to my favorite bar, after nine PM, and found CHILDREN there with their parents!!!!

I have reviewed grants for arts funding for the last five years. There are a handful of theatre companies that apply for funding.... and in their FREAKING mission statements they state 'wholesome, family friendly entertainment.' Guess how many list 'morally suspect, adult themed entertainment'.... NONE.

Either I am so far out the norm that I am definitely going to hell, or there is an UNTAPPED market in this county. I hosted a play reading (Anti-Valentine's Day was the theme), and it was an afternoon of Christopher Durang one-acts. We all had fun.

Maybe I should just create my own theatre company, and put in the mission statement: To foster an irreverent, mildly salacious culture and entertain grownups.

Okay, rant mostly done. Now I need to look up a website for creating voodoo dolls before writing my 'family friendly' script.... with zombies....

Boards and Zombies

So, I am an arts volunteer. I also serve on a board. I do a lot of work. I attend lots of meetings. I write and review grants for arts organizations. I read and answer (and ignore) lots of emails regarding the arts. Hell, I have even lobbied for the arts. I feel good for volunteering in my community, and for putting my skills and knowledge to good use. After all, we have no souls without the arts.

See, that explains a lot about me. I believe that without the arts, we are just mindless zombies. And, for those of you who think the arts are just opera and indecipherable paintings... think about your day.

Listen to the radio? The music you listen to is art. Oh, you only listen to the news? Well, who the &#$@ do you think creates the background music, or designs the ads that PAY for the news? Artists. Who reads the news? People whose voice IS their art.

Oh, so you don't listen to the radio? Watch television or films? Art! Read magazines? Books? Oh, don't waste time with that stuff? Well, do you think the guys who designed your computer were only thinking function? They were also thinking about making something that you might actually want to look at when it was not on.

Anyway... I could go on and on... and I think kinda just did.

This rant is to remind myself why I keep working on it. I am an artist. I support artists. I have to remind myself that what I am doing is worthy of my efforts. And I have to remind myself that the show must go on.

I begin to wonder, however... perhaps the show will go on without me.

I have been serving for almost six years on this arts council. I am tired. There has been so much change. There has been unpleasantness. It hasn't always been fun. My term on the board ends in October... and I want to finish it. The end is in sight.

But, will I crawl back under my log at that point? I didn't grow up with volunteerism. As I am a lapsed Catholic, the guilt to give to others, to be selfless, is strong. This is my service.

However, this is the year of deciding what I am NOT gonna do, remember? Do I finish my term, and call it even? Do I continue volunteering in the arts community, or allow myself to get shangai'ed into another board? This weighs on me.

I have decisions to make. If I am only doing this for duty, then I have become a zombie in spite of myself. And, just now, as I write this and postpone doing some arts volunteer related work, I kinda feel like this. Both the zombie... and the poor bloke running from the zombie.

So, this zombie sadly signs off, to go eat some brains... the brains being my own. Sigh.

(wah wah wah, poor little whiney-butt)