::Mordacious

An unnaturally gentle and long spring is trying to whisper my fears away and make me forget winter.  Usually, by Memorial Day, I can expect it to be a miserable sauna every day until September.  Instead, the windows are open, the lilacs drifting in and my cat staring out. 

I may have started a corporate war at work.  That remains to be seen.  Being a whistleblower makes me sweat.  The short version:  the departments I work with are full of fuckups who ignore policy and deliver crap products.  This gets to the customer, they get angry, it costs us many thousands of dollars and infinite goodwill.  I’ve been going to my boss and his boss for a year and nothing has changed.  The local company president – ranking man in the city – had a townhall and claimed that we had to have ‘zero tolerance for shoddy work’ and to feel free to bring it to his desk.  Which, usually, is an empty platitude meant to make it seem like he’s a good leader and that everyone is being listened to.  We peons aren’t REALLY supposed to take advantage of the offer.

Well, I did.  I threw a lot of people under the bus (all of whom deserved it) and I’m not sure how it will all pan out.  Curious to look into the future and see if I lose my own job over it.

I’ll cross my fingers and trust.  If I can’t trust the man, I shouldn’t be working for him anyway.

That said, I’ve been staying up late every night trying to be excited about something – reading, writing, videogames, porn, whatever.  There’s a vague smugness in knowing that I’m awake when I should be asleep, but it’s never worth it the next day when I’m dragging along the ground with my eyes about to fall out of my head from weariness.

Feeling snarky and jaded about reading.  I’d make a thundering crater of awesome as an editor, were such a job to fall into my lap.  On the other hand, my level of knowledge/education/expertise/whatever is completely ruining books for me.  Books I loved as a teenager seem awful now.  More than half the books I pull at the library get tossed at the wall after fifty pages.  "This hasn’t engaged me."

Is this what it’s like for film students who watch summer blockbusters?  While I’m cheering at the explosions and titties, they’re cringing at the bad angles and poor lighting and rotten foleys and whatnot?  Because I’m picking apart everything I read.  Even the big-house professional stuff.  Why did this person get published?  I do better work.

Except that’s really the rub, isn’t it? 

I talk about writing.  I think about writing.  I read about writing.  I’m better than you and everyone you know.  Really.  But…. I rarely write anything.  I blame it on being tired or being stifled or burning it all up on RPG plots or this or that or whatever.  Stupid, pansy things.  Weak minded maunderings.  Kicking around the bones of a really great novel for years on end without putting pen to paper, all because I don’t know how I want to tell the story of this terrible Thing that lives at the base of my spine.  I can see its shadow and smell its breath, but I have so much trouble putting it to work for me.

Meh.  As usual, I’ll table that for later consideration.  Maybe I’ll throw my balls out on the table and blast away on this idea I’ve been having about symbology and tattoo magic and the left hand of death and …. well, seeds.  Shards of ideas that I just need to scrape together and put a ring of straw around.  Throw some glue on top and then throw a hapless character into it, and whatever sticks to him is the story.

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June 7, 2013

You done right. Now fucking write something. Just do it.

That is what it’s like. Learning how to properly critique fucks everything. It makes being self-critical even worse. Bastards. Late night smugness, ha. I know it well, too. Kudos for RPGs, the Big Lebowski, and the Colts. I’m an Indiana native as well.

June 8, 2013

Good for you, I’m so tired of crap products. Whatever the product is, they just don’t make em like they used to. I hope you can kick this writers block thing in the ass soon. I have a feeling once you do, and once you get on the right track, it’s going to be pretty amazing. So I will wait patiently.

Good luck, buddy. You rock as a writer. Just sayin’. *

June 8, 2013

I see you off there playing video games, but the gTalk is off, so I assume you want to relax in peace and quiet. I do enjoy being up late, late, late… those damn toddler 6am wake up calls ruin it I tell you.

June 8, 2013

I can understand having the idea and not being able to put it down in writing. It’s like being horny and not being able to climax. I bet it’s a lot like having blue balls, you know, if I had ballzzzz.

June 8, 2013

So you’re a writer who doesn’t write?

June 10, 2013

“If I can’t trust the man, I shouldn’t be working for him anyway.” There’s no truer statement then this. “While I’m cheering at the explosions and titties, they’re cringing at the bad angles and poor lighting and rotten foleys and whatnot?” I have two friends who went to film school and they stopped going to the theater – partly because their own knowledge drove them crazy, and partly because no one will go with them as they end up ruining the magic for everyone else. “But…. I rarely write anything.” Just remember, the end result of being an regular person who doesn’t write, and a great writer who doesn’t write, is exactly the same.

June 12, 2013

I’ve never understood the negative connotation behind the word “whistleblower”. It’s like the adult version of “tattle-tale.” Yeah, well, if you do crappy or unethical things, you SHOULD be tattled on. I understand the critical thing, not necessarily because I’m “a critic,” but it’s because I’ve experienced some amazing media in my life, so if something’s not amazing, I don’t have much patience for it. Problem is, not EVERYTHING can be amazing. Because if everything were amazing, then nothing would be amazing. Also, some things deserved to be criticized, because they’re just plain bad. 😛 Also: As someone who was once in your boat of knowing I could do great things but sitting on my ass doing nothing, I can tell you: just DO it. There is no other way. What firebabe said, that was spot on.

June 13, 2013

I will :p

June 14, 2013

RYN: Credit due: that note made me laugh out loud (LOL?). Real whiskey makes my vagina hurt.

June 19, 2013

Be a whistle blower – blow that whistle loud and clear. If they don’t listen then it’s their fault not yours. People need to work for their dollar and do a damn good job while at it ’cause there are too many people without jobs that would suck up a job if they could. So, trust and have patience. Also, you and me sound so alike in the writing department … I got all these ideas, but don’t write them out. Heh.

June 20, 2013

Re: Haha 😛 I don’t necessarily “write fantasy.” I am “writing a fantasy story.” Know what I mean? But yes, I definitely WANT to say more, but I’m leery of the internets. Take my word for it. It’s fucking awesome.

June 21, 2013

R: Going for makeouts after I repeatedly mentioned my boyfriend and we had a long discussion about how frustrating it is for everyone to make sexual advances when all I want is friendship makes it pretty clear to me that he gave no fucks about anything else.

June 24, 2013

RYN: I know, it’s rare. So little to smile about these days…

June 25, 2013

re: …. Wait, what?

June 25, 2013

re: Oh. Haha 😛 I thought you were talking about an upcoming scene. I imagined all these centaurs in a room together just going to town, shitting like crazy all over the floor. For some… reason. A reason I was going to ask *YOU* about. 😛

June 29, 2013

RYN: You are pretty damn good at coming up with names, sir! And yes. You may eat ALL the gross bananas. Eww.