Between the Lines

Always serves to inspire me.

The fantasy bug is, I think, once more making a comeback to the mainstream. With the serialization of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, the marketing of the Harry Potter series, and even the (unwarranted) success of Paolini’s Eragon, American culture is beginning to embrace the power of the fantastic.

The latest fantastic explosion is of course Avatar, and its 3D syrup-covered pancake success. Most everyone that has seen it said the reason for seeing it was the 3D of it, and even the most avid fantasy reader has understood the storyline was crap. It’s not for movies to make good storylines, though. Movies are for visuals. Just like food is primarily for taste–you can make it look as nice as ever, but one bite sells or fails it. Books are primarily for characterization and plot. Movies are for scenery and extravagance, external characterization if warranted. I’m not talking about works of literary merit, or movies of literary merit, or foods of… literary merit. I’m talking about the pop culture need-as-it-may sensationalism.

Nuances are too nuanced. Anyway. I digress.

I’m incredibly inspired by the use of the universe as a staging ground for a resurgence of interest. As ever, fantasy is growing into a beautiful and incredibly developed niche – much as Noir and romance had its place, its turn, now so does fantasy.

I’m loving what I’m seeing.

Wrote around fifteen pages in P1 today. I’ll probably write around five more before I find my way to sleep. Finally, this story has the second layer being added: the real. Although it isn’t finished with its first layer, the second layer is coming along quite nicely. The two “cults,” one religious and one corporate (not at all different from each other) are finally in place, with champions from both. Okembe is finally doing something behind the scenes. I don’t know why it was impossible for me to write these aspects in the first place. I believe it’s because I was too anchored in the ethereal and metaphysical to be able to write of the real. The moment I began writing of it, it turned into something meta.

I have my lack of internet connection to thank for my recent writing splurge (currently running on “wireless broadband USB plugin power”). Landlord promises a phone jack by Monday noon. Which is cool. He also took a bit off my rent as recompense.

If Cygnus gets the job she has an interview for, we will finally both have weekends off. And an opportunity to go to Six Flags. And see family in StL. And perhaps even go camping.

My client for P2 hasn’t been in communication with me much; it’s been about a month since we talked about the project. I’ve been working on it, off and on, in the meantime, constantly laying out the groundwork for everything. But I do need direction. I hope he gets back with me soon. He had been hospitalized with a viral sickness of some kind, and was given military leave to the US for a few weeks.

Went to Taste of Champaign last weekend with coworker Whitney and her son Malcolm. He’s an incredibly intelligent boy. The Taste was pretty much a drag, given the humidity and the fact I didn’t bring any actual cash to the event. Vendors can’t make change with a credit card. Heh. It went well, although Whitney seemed awkward. She likes Bethany, and I hope she doesn’t get fired. It seems she’s got some serious challenges going on in her life. Eh. It’s nice to have friends around here; LIKE PAUL! hahaha Hopefully he still reads this.

Well. I’m back to writing. I might dedicate this book to Don Quixote. It seems fitting. “To Don Quixote, for his dream was a possible one.” hahaha

Oi.

Home sick.

NOT Homesick.

The past few days have been miserable for me. I’m not sure what brought it about, but I have a pretty solid feeling it was the leftover taco pizza I brought back from my parents. It was left out all night and morning at their house, in the garage, when it got 79 degrees outside. I brought it home, a 3 hour drive, and then put it in the fridge. I then took it to work with the intention of eating it, but it was too messy to do while driving so I didn’t. Left it out for another four or five hours. Then came home, heated it up in the oven, and ate it. Hilarity ensued. It wasn’t even all that awesome. Now, Chicken Alfredo pizza with French sauce is incredible (Hence the Uppercase)… but yeah. I was an idiot.

Now my throat is swelling up, I can barely swallow, and I cough up… nothing. Which means I’m having an allergy attack. RUN.

I haven’t written anything readable for a bit; I’ve been working on hanging out (Springtime makes me inspired like a crazyboy, but I’m always inspired around 10:30, where I’m driving like an idiot. Now, of course, I’m sick, so no inspiration here). As usual, I want to be published. I want to have my book out for all to see. I want to finish proofing AK again, finish P1, and get some kind of proofing finished on Mindgames, which will be incorporated into the Worldtree universe. Oi. And the gunslinger side-story. And the brothers zombie side-story.

Anyways, I’m frustrated at something. Perpetually, really, but I’ll find out what it is, exactly, and push through it. Perhaps it’s complacency. I’m at a place in my professional career that I’m happy with my job(s), and I’m going to be able to make a lot of headway with savings and the like. It’s just… yeah. Something.

Probably just the fact I haven’t written chapters in months. I wish I weren’t sick. I’ll try and write on Saturday while Cygnus is at work.

We’re talking about getting tattoos. Hahaha. Two shark’s teeth.

And. Just bought fuzzy seatcovers for Hobbes. Real FUR! hahaha

Sometimes I wonder if there’s even a pattern beneath the pattern when it comes to how people act and react. This is a vague sentence, I know. Mostly because the moment I started typing it whizzed right out of my head. Whatever I was going to say.

The more I want to write on my books, the more I don’t. I believe I’m starting to get writer’s block. I want to write all the time, while I’m at work, but the moment I get home my head goes empty. It’s so incredibly frustrating I can barely contain myself. Anyway…

(Politics rant incoming)

I’m reading random crap on Facebook about punching Pelosi in the face. I assume this has to do with you being a republican and not wanting to get our taxes lowered. I’ve watched the politicals. I’ve heard the arguments. I’ve read the propaganda. Now, all I’m looking for is someone to actually explain why the healthcare reform is bad. Or unconstitutional. Or unAmerican. While I understand the GOP rides on fear and Who Is This Other, I can’t help but BEG someone to explain to me why this is bad. I hear vague rhetoric about something Socialist and something Unconstitutional, and leave it at that. I’ve even heard some Murcan go, “It’s Socialist. You aren’t a Socialist, are you?” to which I replied, “What’s a Socialist?” “Damn N***** that steals our money and gives it to someone in his family.” Yes, this is an extreme example. But at least he gave what he thought was a well-educated answer. It’s more than I can say for my GOP friends.

And since being Socialist is basically being a Terrorist (same with Marxism, and Naziism, and being Muslim, and Middle Eastern… oh. A pattern. To be a Terrorist is to be the “Other.” Fear.), it’s no surprise every fundie and rightwing brainwasher (all extremes in themselves) are having a holocaust with this idea. (Holocaust means an offering to God, in case anyone ever wondered what that word came from) Yet, it’s not just the extremes that want to “Punch Pelosi in the face.” It’s the majority of the GOP. From what I’ve read, it makes a lot of sense to have this kind of healthcare system… Considering when we compare our system to most second-world countries, our is worse than theirs, I’m quite surprised over how upset everyone is getting.

Which leads perhaps to an explanation of my pattern within the pattern thought. If the GOP is throwing around “YOU SHOULD BE SCARED OF THIS PRESIDENT!” while backing a man that easily wasted fifty times the money Obama has, perhaps they themselves are afraid of change. I mean, that’s pretty obvious. Change is bad for the GOP. Change means standing up proudly and saying there’s something that needs fixing. Yet.

It’s just strange how this whole system works. I mean, everyone at the top is corrupt. You have to be to get the backing to get there. It’s mostly high school homecoming court, from a whole societal structure, and not trying to find the best man to run the country. But I read somewhere, too, “If you are too intelligent to bother with politics, you will be governed by those who aren’t.”

Yes. It makes sense to care. To bother. We have an incredible country. The value of life here is much higher than the majority of the rest of the world. I just don’t like how extremist this country is getting (Not that they weren’t before. Heh) over the simple selection of candidates.

This new healthcare thing won’t send this country under. The war(s)? Possibly. The lack of interest or involvement by more intelligent (?) people such as myself? Perhaps. It makes me grr.

And this entry had nothing to do with what I wanted to write about. Hahaha

Haven’t written much of anything of late; I’ve been busting tail to get other things done. Most notably, a new job. I need some 74 XL ink cartriges for my printer, and still haven’t found a way to handle it. I dunno what I’m going to do. (Oh. Ebay says I can buy two remanufactured 74XL cartriges at 20 bucks. I might jump on that.)

Dad checked the site out, and when I asked him what he thought of the video blogging, he said, “It looks good. You sound like you’re trying to be academic.” I nodded and said, “Yes. I am. Did you read any of my other entries?” He didn’t. My parents are a  bit out of touch with what I’m doing right now, which is kind of frustrating and a little disheartening. I want them to approve of what I’m doing, and I want to communicate what I’m learning. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way all the time. Some people just don’t understand.

I used to think it was a generational thing… Dad’s father didn’t understand dad, then accordingly, dad doesn’t understand me. But it’s more than that. Why, you might ask? Because I believe it’s a focus thing. Grandfather spent his life farming. That’s what he knows. Farming, and weather, and seasons, and all of that. Dad spent his life working as an engineer. That’s what he knows. Flow charts. Output ratios. Overspilling form data of numbers for each quarter. He used to love science fiction (still dabbles), used to love the technical side of everything. Now, not so much. The movie The Weatherman comes to mind when I write this. Dad likes to camp, but he doesn’t. He likes photography, but he doesn’t. One by one, all those things dropped by the wayside. Why? Stagnation? Depression? A combination thereof?

This confuses me. I am confused. I hope I don’t get to be that way. “The measure of true literacy in the twenty-first century will be the ability to reinvent one’s self.”

The business cards I thought I was spending an arm and a leg on are actually cheaper to buy than the FedEx Kinkos prices. Kinda funny. Now, I’m debating on purchasing letterhead from there.

I hope I get a job soon. I really need the supplemental income.