Use of white noise in coffee. Also, backstory here, the coffee is cold. Because the person is waiting for a letter from her friend that will never come, because her friend has moved on. /sad
The Long Silence probably goes by another name. It might even have several names, is probably broken down into sub-names and sub-uses, and maybe even has a fan club. I’m writing about it because I don’t know anyone who is (which isn’t saying much), and I’m in love with this idea for my own work. I want to share.
Sharing is caring.
So when I think about The Long Silence (TLS for the rest of this post), I generally think about two people (though it doesn’t have to be. Think Gone in 60 Seconds, Nick Cage and the Shelby GT, although note: this is much closer to an Unresolved Goal than TLS), either estranged or separated by an internal or external struggle–war, an event, ideological differences, death–and they no longer speak to each other. The world passes by, they carry their burdens or baggage or righteousness as a shield through their lives, assuming to never interact with the other person again.
Some may even be carrying a candle. A “What if,” if you will.
I spent an inordinate amount of time this past week staring at a computer screen, being distracted, and ultimately failing as a writer in a perfectly idyllic writing environment. Now that I’ve returned to the “real world,” I’m trying to avoid the old cycle of “I’ll write when I get time.” And then I never “get” time. As if I’m looking for a gift from heaven, or a lucky break.
I get lots of lucky breaks. And I take them to study up on camping, think about writing, NOT read a book, and rot my brain on another dozen or so political “news” blogs about what some someone said about someone else.
I’m not married. I have no kids. I am the owner of my space. Yet I can’t figure out how to write in the time I have. Continue reading
I haven’t been around for a while, and for that I apologize. I’m trying for a resurgence to this site, and writing in general. So hello.
This post has everything to do with my very, very amateur status in the world of Dungeons & Dragons. After studying the 5th Edition rulebooks, I recognize a deep vein of development that has been present since, well, I was born.
I’m falling into the D&D Dungeon Master development in a way I didn’t expect: I find studying a campaign actually improves my inspiration toward writing, and understanding a well-developed story, more adequately.
This is both a good and bad thing. The good is I am forced to develop peripheral aspects in a unique and new way, and in applying this to my book-writing, I find the world more saturated with individuality. The bad is I’m forced to cast aside my previous style of writing, which was unconventional, different, unique.
Yeah. Soren crawled down that hole.
(Pulled out the ol’ second book for a spell, just to see how the two stories lined up. I’ve done a lot of rewriting of the first novel. I
decided to post it here. It is a long, 4k excerpt, and only half of the first chapter. You are warned. lol)
If you spend enough time talking to your shadow, your shadow talks back. Not that anybody listens.
My toes touched carpet that touched sand, a salt-sea breeze drifting through cinderblock walls. The sun filtered hot through rafters. Two chairs waited, one wedged between a pair of identical full-length mirrors.
Taken from a smartphone wallpaper site. Seems abstractly fitting to the idea of “intelligence.” I believe it’s because the shining ciliae look akin to neural pathways with no connecting port.
You know this is important when I crack open a Diet Dr. Pepper at 10 at night. It just got serious.
There’s been this really, really aggravating trend to poorly proportion certain words to include mundane things. Forget the overuse of “irregardless,” “over-exaggerated,” and “literally.” I’m not even touching the big ones. Instead take the words “Legendary” and “Epic.” I hear it so often–especially online–where someone takes a bite of pizza and goes, “THIS IS EPIC.” “Pacific Rim was such an EPIC movie.”
No. No it isn’t. The pizza is delicious, possibly. Explosive. Exhausting. Possibly even double-plus good. But epic? Really?
Yeah. It’s slang. Those words now exist as an oversimplification. In fact, dictionary.com uses “Those burgers were epic” as a way to describe one definition. Okay, the scene is now set.
I had this conversation with my brother last night, because for the first time he was on the other side of the “saying what you mean” category (in fact, I tend to wonder if he just takes the other side of whatever I’m saying to play the discussion out). Usually, I’m the one defending poetic license, or florid prose, or the stretched definition of a word. Nope. This discussion was my saying, “It’s inconceivable! It doesn’t mean what they think it means!”
The discussion didn’t really go down that way. I just wanted to make a Princess Bride reference.
It all starts with a sketch…
Not sure if I’ve written about this before, but with current events in Ferguson only a few miles from where I live, I figured I’d reinstate where I find inspiration.
The really short answer is: everywhere. I mean, I’m a creative guy. I love people. I’m full of inspiration. Boom managed. Short-blog readers rejoice. 🙂
There’s a longer answer to this that I feel I must elaborate upon. Come! Follow me down this little path. Continue reading
Yeah. I feel like that today.
I sit here, uncertain what to write. I follow some pretty prestigious blogs on WordPress (prestigious to me, I guess), and writer’s block tends to filter through their posts like a shoulder shrug and a head shake. For the serious writer, the professional, who has a career in writing with bills, family, food, shelter hinging on what he writes, writer’s block is a joke. For the professional, writer’s block is either a profane form of laziness or a reason to take a short break before returning to work.
I am a professional, and I currently suffer from writer’s block.