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Writer's Block: Sultans of swing

Imagine your first chart-topping album has just been released. What sort of music is on it? What does the cover art look like?

I'm definitely thinking blues or blues rock. Being a sharp harmonica player, it would have to be something with a lot of soul. R&B, Blues, and Blues Rock are filled with about as much soul as a Southern Baptist church choir.

And I suppose the cover would just be the keys of a piano replaced with harmonicas. Something interesting and poignant, but fun and simple.

The tables have turned.

I'm usually a big fan of turning the tables. But what I'm not a fan of is having the tables turned on me. Somehow I feel like it's not fair, but there isn't anything I can do about it. Nonetheless, I'm allowed to feel like shit about it. You would, too.

In other news, I'm at a standstill with my current project "...And We Can All Thank Schrodinger!" and I'm not sure how to fix it. The final draft is finished, I have my cast, and now I just need to get them to actually want to sit down for a read through so we can get the ball rolling. But with a cast of nine, it's a tad harder than my last one act "Drop Dead Chauvinist" with practically went off without a hitch. Sometimes being a director is awesome. And sometimes being a director sucks. But most of the time it's awesome.

I haven't been able to write much poetry-wise lately. I'm not sure why. I've done what I've needed to do for awhile, but somehow I feel unchanged. Is this a bad thing? I don't feel different. I did for awhile, but not anymore. But now I've adjusted and I can't bring myself to write anything beyond a blog post. No short stories, no poetry... I feel like I'm slowly slipping into insanity, but without the fun of hearing "We the jury find the defendant..." or Rod Serling narrating my brief but ultimately entertaining stint in the Twilight Zone.

I've recently discovered the trailer for Black Swan starring Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis. The trailer contains Natalie turning into a a black swan, a whole lot of cute girls in tight ballet outfits, and, oh yeah, Mila seducing Natalie and then making out with her violently. Looks like it's going to be a great movie.

I need something to light my fire, so to speak. I need to get back to writing.

Karma, Crystals Skulls, and All That Jazz.

It's been awhile since I've posted on this thing. And every time I go months without posting, I have says where I feel like blogging. And on those days, I vow to keep up a blog and post every single day. And then it never happens. At least I know I'm unreliable.

It's times like these that I wish I could just walk away from everything and start fresh. I know running away never solves anything, but I feel like having a fresh start would be just the "breath of fresh air" my life needs right now. So many things have been happening, I can't keep track of them all.

So that leaves me... where? I don't know, really. It just leaves me. Like I've left so many woman to wake up alone, finding themselves lying in a sea of stained sheets and regret. I think this is life's way of repaying the favor. Call it Karma, call it Destiny, call it the Universe's Wake Up Call, I don't care: the bottom line is, it's all coming back. I kind of like it. It makes me feel... vulnerable. I haven't felt that way in a long time. She makes me feel that way, and I think that's why I'm so afraid of getting close. I don't want to feel this way forever, just sometimes. And thus far it's worked out. But it's starting to eat away at her, and I don't think she can handle it. It's time to sink or swim, and I'm not sure I'm ready to take off the floaties.

So that brings me to... nothing. After all that... nothing. It's odd. I would have thought there would have been more. Like that kid that waited years for another Indian Jones movie only to be rewarded with aliens, crystal skulls, and dirty pinko commies chasing a too-old-for-this-shit Harrison Ford and an I-wish-I-was-Orson-Welles Shia LaDouche. Sure, Lucas tries to redeem himself with surviving a nuclear blast in a lead lined fridge, bringing back the always stunning Marion Ravenwood, and CG gophers (the last of which was a tad unsuccessful), but we're left with nothing more than the poorly constructed storyline of a leg to stand on, and that's about as reliable as Mac's triple agent act. Sorry, that got a little out of hand.

That being said, we'll see where life takes me. Hopefully somewhere cold, because this heat is killing me. Literally.

I need.

I need to start a new writing project. I have quite a few on my plate, but I perform best when under extreme amounts of stress.

Now to find an idea...


Some days I wake up and I love everything about life. I love the trees, the birds, the wind, the people. Some days I wake up and I am thankful for being alive. I'm glad I have wonderful friends. I'm just glad.

Some days I wake up and I hate everything. I hate the trees, the birds, the wind, the people. Some days I wake up and I wish I was dead. I hate the people I call my friends. I just hate.

It's weird. I feel like I might be crazy. Not simply crazy, but clinically insane crazy.

Some days I fancy myself awesome.

Some days I see myself for what I am: a fat, disgusting, useless, talentless waste. And those are the good days.

I guess this is what life is going to be like for me.

The sad part is? I wouldn't have it any other way.

A New Year.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who rely on a New Years Resolution to get shit done. I will not be one of those people. I will not let the fact that these are resolutions motivate me. I will be motivated by the simple fact that I have a desire to see these things done. The new year is just the perfect time to write this list and start fresh.

Most of these are just fluff for the year, but they are all things I want to do. The most important ones should be obvious, I would think.

1. Start working out with Duke and get in shape.

2. Find a decent job.

3. Move out into an apartment with Duke.

4. Buy a more reliable car with better has mileage.

5. Get motorcycle license.

6. Buy a motorcycle.

7. Finish writing the novel.

8. Pitch a screenplay to an executive/company.

9. Land an acting gig for film, television, or theater.

10. Work out the kinks and strengthen my game.

11. Be a better son.

12. Be a better friend.

13. Be a better brother.

14. Make the attempt to read more.

15. Make the attempt to blog more.

16. Finish my lightsaber tattoo.

17. Finish both sleeves.

18. Publish another book.

19. Land a job as a literary critic.

20. Hit 200.

The Beginning.

I wrapped up work on We Are The Underground today. It isn't finished. When sitting down to discuss the storyline I realized that not much work gets down when three alpha males are yelling at each other over whose idea is better. I respectfully withdrew my involvement in the project to focus on other things. It was sad, but the way JJ and Christian are headed doesn't line up with how I see the movie unfolding. Perhaps I will see my way back to that genre on my own later, but for now I am focusing my attention on other things.

I was able to finally pound out a complete draft of The Beginning (previously titled Life Is Life Is Death). I am also fond of the new title myself.

I will be pitching both The Beginning and Drop Dead Chauvinistic to one of the teachers in the theatre department today to see if one (or both) will be put to use this semester for the One Acts. These were both written with this show in mind, so hopefully at least one makes it. I am going to push both equally (although I secretly hope DDC gets it). Wish me luck.

As for anything else, I think that about covers it all. A girl I like sent me a very cute picture today and I can't stop staring at it. I know it's creepy, but it's beautiful. She is beautiful.

Now, as it's almost 5am, I will be getting my much earned sleep as to be rested well for the pitch later today. Again, wish me luck.

Until then.

P.S. I am going to try and stick to blogging about my thoughts, feelings, emotions, opinions on things that happened to be throughout the day, etc. But I'm sure you guys get a kick reading about my work. All three of you, that is.

Love, Sex, and Feminism.

Sometimes I just can't find the right words to say. You'd think as a writer it would be easy for me and I would just know what to say and how to say it. But it never is that easy, folks, not even for writers. Eventually the words come, but sometimes they come with a price.

I find myself quite flustered when thinking about the double standard that exists when it comes to sex and relationships. It bothers me that men become assholes the second they just want to have sex with a girl when it's clearly okay for a woman to lust for a man without being looked down upon. Clearly this is not an issue involving feminism. I am a feminist. I respect women and think they are equal to men. But if it was an issue regarding feminism, I'd say fuck it. It isn't fair. As humans, we have two biological imperatives: survive and replicate. Why, then, is it so terrible for a man to simply want sex without a relationship? Sure, having sex while using contraceptives defeats the purpose of replication, but it's still sex with no emotional attachment. It's not like I'm asking these women to make love with me. My friends know I don't believe in love. But if love were to exist, sex would not be a part of it. Sex and making love are two completely different acts. Why don't people understand that? Perhaps they do but they're being assholes. Look, if you like sex, and I like sex, we should have sex. What more do you need?

I have been criticized already about my discussion of this topic. Some are saying that I am just desperate because I haven't had sex in awhile. This is not the case. I have sex regularly. I consider it something I need to do on a regular basis to thrive. It relieves stress and leads to inspiration for my writing. You could say that sex is one of my muses. Everybody has seven muses, just like there existed seven Greek muses.

So really, what's the problem? If you're not attracted to me and couldn't see yourself having sex with me, just be truthful and say that rather than become defensive and tell me I'm a douchebag player who just wants sex. Women have needs, too. I'm just trying to fill them. I'm a giver. It's what I do.

On a lighter note, work on the projects is coming along smoothly. Drop Dead Chauvinistic is almost complete. I have slightly more editing to do, but it should be done within the next few days. The Untitled Campbell/Maguire Heist Project has begun. I started working on some story lines, characters, and whatnot today. It looks promising. Love Is Love Is Death is also underway. I'm not 100% on the title, though I can't think of any alternatives. If you're interested in helping me out, leave a comment or get in touch with me and maybe you can help me work out a better title.

You are all awesome, and I love every single one of you.

The Appeal to Probability

Just because something can happen doesn't mean it will.


One of the greatest feelings in the world is writing something that you can be proud of and truly call your own. I love finishing my work and being able to say "Man, that's me". It doesn't get much better than that.

That being said, the absolute worst feeling in the world comes when you think you're finished writing something and you just aren't satisfied with it. It's like building a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle only to find out you're missing one piece. What the fuck! I hate that. Really I do.

I can't shake the feeling that "Drop Dead Chauvinistic" is missing something. The scenes don't feel long enough, the writing feels mediocre, and a crucial piece of the puzzle is missing. I want to let other people read it so they can help me figure it out, but there's two problems with that: 1) I have a hard time letting people read my work unless I'm finished with it, and 2) I don't want to trust someone else with this awesome one act. Sure I trust people, and nobody really wants to steal some twenty minute one act play, but I just can't risk it. It would take a very high level of trust for me to let someone read this right now. How the hell am I supposed to finish it? I'm going to have to cave and let someone read it, but I need someone I trust. I also need someone who is a talented writer. I'm not saying I'm the best, but I do need someone of my caliber. I know a few, but I just don't seem them having interest in this particular piece.

And thus my conundrum is afoot.

On a lighter note, my throat is absolutely killing me. I'm overly prone to strep and other such throat-based illnesses, but every single time I go to the doctor for this throat thing I end up racking up some ridiculous hospital bill. I suppose that's the price to pay for not dying. Do you know how many times I've almost died? A lot, let me tell you.

Side note: I'm starving. After I finish this post I think I'll hit the kitchen and rummage. There has to be something worth eating that won't take forever to make.

I've also begun working on a script that myself and JJ are collaborating on. Have you ever seen Reservoir Dogs? Think of that first scene, when everyone is in the diner, except it's an entire movie and it's a table of nerds. Needless to say, it will be legendary in the nerd community. I've begun writing the opening scene and the final scene, which includes a cameo by Neil Patrick Harris as Neil Patrick Harris. Sure, it seems odd to bank on such a big actor for our screenplay despite us being newcomers with almost no connections... but it will be worth it if it pays off. Also, JJ's cousin is the illustrious Red Venom, also known as Tobey Maguire. How lucky for us.

The novel I'm working on is coming along. It's quite interesting. It seems to mirror my life, but in a much more peacocky way. That may not have made sense, but it will when you give it some thought.

The new book of poetry is on its way. I have an affinity for Shakespearean sonnets, and thus was motivated to write an entire book of them. It all came from that Shakespeare class I took. I had to write some sonnets of my own for a final project. I figured since I had already written so many, why stop there? Thus, the party continues.

I have also decided to write a second one act. Although I am particularly fond of my latest one, I want to have options when I start this directing class next semester, just in case Kathy doesn't want to showcase a play about chauvinism or whatnot. This one will be a little bit more dramatic, and definitely bring tears. All I can really say is that it will stay as far away from comedy as possible, and will probably focus around the ways different people cope with death. No more hints! You'll just have to wait and read.

That reminds me! JJ and I are also in talks about another screenplay. This time it'll be about a heist, and probably be a combination heist/mob-type deal. We want to have elements of Reservoir Dogs, Casino, Goodfellas, The Bank Job, The Italian Job, and The Great Escape. There isn't much more I can say about this project, as the project really is still in the idea phase. More on it later when plans have been hatched.

So all in all I think this writing thing is really paying off.

Look for a new blog, probably on Blogspot, that will document my work as a writer. When I become famous, people will love reading about all of the new and interesting things I'm doing as a writer (I think).

Until then.

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