Foster the People? Paul Revere and the Raiders?

 Was introduced to a sub-SUV deal. Now I have Kicks jokes running through my head. Another day, another heat warning. At least it's not at orange level. Been doing some reading and playing Valheim. Bears are in the Black Forest biome; what the heck are they doing in the Meadows? Oh, and the game crashed this morning while my dude Edgar was cooking boar meat.

 I have a couple of torches on hand just in case Edgar encounters bears. Torch in hand and zig-zagging - that's how one evades bears. Greydwarves and their pack mentality are annoying. But the game is beautiful. On the literary front, I finished reading 'Sir John A' by Drew Hayden Taylor. Canada's most legendary drunk whining about Indigenous people while two dudes travel to Kingston to dig up ancient bones.

 Darkly funny, like most of Taylor's works. A two-act play - easily blasted through. Now I have a much darker book ahead of me. I hope ye my followers are doing well and keeping cool.

BYE.

Actually 9 days left

 For the students, at any rate. Meanwhile, the weather has been incredible of late. Wet, yes; but cool - 20 and under for the most part. This has been the best summer for a while. Plenty of rain so no sign of wildfires in Nopiming. A blessed dream indeed. I have plans for the summer. Just a question for my multitudes...

 Nissan or Hyundai? One of my plans involves new wheels. Ford doesn't do cars so they're off my list until they get at least a hatchback or something. Honda is another possibility but so is Kia. All of these options are in my price range. What would you go for, my few and fabulous?

 On the literary front, I have a book by David Weber. I have a few things to say but I'll hold off for now. I hope ye my followers are doing well.

BYE.

The end of January

 Cold snap, eh? Worst time for the fire alarm to go off at work. Horrible time for the kids until the fire truck arrived to save the afternoon. Meanwhile, the smoke alarms at the complex have been checked. All is well... sorta. On the literary front, I've been getting into Rilke. Good, introspective stuff. Now I've moved on to summat absurdist.

  Been thinking about a dude I went to school with. He died when I was in 11th grade. Every now and then, I think about the dude and wonder what he might have done had the Crab not moved in. Now I'm 45 and he would have been 47 had Grimmie not had other plans. He was a fantastic artist. Would he have continued down that creative path? Maybe settled down and started a family.

  Or maybe he would have joined the group Springsteen sang of in 'Glory Days'. What might have been, amirite? Anyway, I hope my viewers are doing well and keeping warm.

BYE.

Books, the weather, and a question.

   Meet the Yorkshire Kid. Today he's got a message for Lauryl Park-West.

"You think you're that 'ard? Chinny reckon! Come 'ere and I'll gizza one good braying! I'll take tha missen wi' one 'and behind my back! I'll 'ave yer guts for garters! Come 'ere, pillock! Let's 'ave it owt and I'll get thee sorted! Won't be nowt left of thee after I've done thee up a treat!"



Okay, okay. Enough of that. Go to your room, Yorkshire Kid.


"No need to skrike at me, mate! Just 'aving a laugh. No need to 'ave a monk on wi' me. Tarra, Lauryl. Tha's a reet lass."




Ta, our Yorkshire Kid. Now for a semi-serious question for the Mares.

We all know about Lauryl but who's the blond dude she's always posing with? I've never seen a post explaining his place. Probably just a dumb blond or maybe a mysterious sibling Lauryl keeps hidden in the bunker. Just curious.


Meanwhile, the weather continues to be colder than it should be. April is here and May is not far away. This weather needs to start behaving itself. On the Literary Front, I blazed through a couple of books this weekend and am planning to start 'Black house' by King and Straub. I've known about this book for some time but have never read it. This being crafted by two of the big names in horror I think I will read it on what I call 'Stephen King hours'. Any later than 7 P.M. I stop reading.

That is all for now.

BYE.

Misc. Post

      This is not sims-related. Just letting the two of you know. 😉 Anyway, February is almost over and the great month of March with its most blessed Spring Break is just around the corner. As always, I find myself wondering where this school year has gone. My mom's been in Texas since last Monday but she's back tomorrow night. I have to wonder how hot it was down there. It didn't look that hot on the forecast when she was packing her bag for the trip.
      I am currently listening to Lucinda Williams. She rocked it at The Fillmore and I have the two CD live arrangement. Call me old-fashioned but I like having something physical in my hands and in my disc drive. She reminds me of Neil Young for reasons that may be obvious. Maybe a bit of Jann Arden as well.

     Anyway, time to resurrect something that I have not posted for a long while. Also, did you know that it has been ten years since I started this blog? You two can boogie and get down at home. 👌 So, for my part, here is a blast from the past.

March 14, 1998 — morning

I have been an adult for two days now. What can I possibly say about being an adult? I shouldn’t pan adulthood, as I have only been one for the past two days. However, as everyone has an opinion, here comes my attack on the adult world. Life is all wrong; blame the mover and shaker adults, for they control our world. Unfair taxes? The politicians (adults) are to blame. Right now, we are hearing stories and things of rowdy, unruly, youths harming all. These youths had some direction by . . . adults. Of course, there are adults who do not cause pain. I respect a number of adults (who?) should be commended for their excellent duties in life. My parents and teachers from the past thirteen years. Showing me how to live and react properly. Blessed be my amazing parents and teachers! My interview was a disaster! Now, onto greener pastures. Cats are truly amazing creatures! Most independent and cool of the food chain, cats are clever and wise. Some stories proclaim that cats are telepathic. I don’t know if Mr. Schneider is telepathic. I do know that he is an amazing cat! I love cats, and I’m sure that Mr. S loves me and my family. Well, time to close for a spell. SYS! Mr. S. B is a cool cat!

     Twenty years or so. Where did all that wonderful time go? I knew there was a reason I kept my diary around. That is all for now.

BYE.

The Agony of Being Chris

 A year after Chris' triumph over the dastardly Mr. Tub, he moved his family to a new home. He worked out by night and worked hard by day. That's when the gnomes began to visit. Chris caught one in the bathroom and that's when his suspicions began to grow.

 Then, late one night, Chris woke up to find himself immersed in deep water. He could hear the vile stuff lapping in his ears - the battle-cry of the Tub-people! He had to escape! It was only through the most desperate exertion that he escaped.

 For nearly a week Chris lived in seclusion; hiding from the sun, from friends, and especially from the shower. During his frantic escape from the pool he'd raced past a shower and he was sure it had mocked him. Driven to despair, Kath sought for something to distract her.

 Recognizing that he had a traitor in his midst, Chris got to work breaking the vile shower's spirit. Anything to get it to reveal even one hint of what the Tub-people had planned for him.

Kath recognized she was dealing with another obsession and quickly put a stop to Chris' plans to dismantle the shower. The Tub-people never again tried to attack him but for the rest of his days Chris stepped into the shower stall with nothing but the greatest dread.

On the Literary Front #8

I thought at first to pen a tender farewell letter, laden with wistful meanderings and softly bitter laments o'er unrequited love against my cruelly manipulative beast of a Muse. My core is neither soft nor innocent enough to have such leanings, however, and I'm not as heartbroken as I expected to be. Nothing lasts forever, and there may come a time when I will find myself again wrapped warmly in the Muse's powerful embrace and enchanting smiles. For now, I stand on the outside, journal and pen in hand, catching what pitiful scraps I may and doing what little scribbling that I can. Wow, I'm tearing up already. No, not really. Actually, driving home from dinner with the Parentals, I had a few thoughts about my ties to the Muse and how the ties were pretty much gone. I have spoken quite a bit in the past that I am a slave to the written word. Since the summer, I have pretty much given up on writing. All literary projects are stopped for the time being, since Inspiration and I are not in sync at all. Several false starts have gone nowhere, and I gave them up.
These literary projects. I have been in thrall to them since I was 13. Perhaps the Muse was just getting tired of guiding me through this or that story, knowing I have little talent or courage for follow through. This is a new theory, however, and I need time to examine it. Actually, I had another theory that came to mind the other night. Care to hear it? I could possibly be a mimic of some sort where writing is concerned. Throughout my childhood and my teens I read mostly Fantasy. A trilogy of novels (or novellas? Hard to say.) was born from these experiences. Then I started branching out, venturing into Mysteries and books on matters spiritual, as well as scores of classics. From this exploration came a Mystery story that might've gone well if I had not listened to the writer-in-residence for that year. For the last few years, I have been pretty deep in Philosophy and Spirituality, which kindled in me to write some sort of story. This has resulted in numerous false starts (a first draft of the first book is somewhere on my computer, I think) and frustration to spare.
The only literary project I have made much headway on is my Journal Project, where I have been typing my journals out and saving them to file. Someday I will not be able to read my handwriting, so it makes sense. This year or the next I'll be working on transcribing one of my journals from the early 00's. But I digress. I have come to understand that I may not have a whole lot of something inspired, but I can mimic very well. But a snag has risen. I have been reading a variety of genres these days, but nothing I can concentrate upon beyond musings in my diary, so there's little chance for mimicry. I have nothing as a result. This has been my piece on being a mimic and my final thoughts on the Muse. This is not to say that I am done with writing altogether. I still have blogging and my ongoing scribbles in this or that journal. And there may come a time when I have something original and inspired to say. Things happen in cycles, right? Thank you for your time.

Calling me out?

Last night I dreamed that I was in a car and I had to stop the car because I was in the opposite lane. The car turned into a book and I spent most of the dream with the book half-open in my hands as I looked for a place where I could 'park' my 'car' on the other side. The other side of the median was busy with cars and 'no parking/stopping' signs. There were similar signs along the sidestreets I tried, and I found myself getting further and further back from where I had started. The dream ended without resolution (like most of my dreams do) and I eventually woke up. This morning, I identified with the 'going back to the beginning' aspect of my dream, and I find myself wondering if the Muse is trying to tell me something. Only a little while ago, I promised myself that I would not give writing another glance for a long time. Why does it seem like the Muse is toying with me? Maybe it's just my own reaction to wanting to write but having this promise/conflict staring me in the face.
It could mean things totally unrelated to writing. Maybe I need to go back to beginning in some other part of my life. Dream analysts, feel free to throw in yer two cents! I'm pretty sure it has something to do with my decision to take a break from writing. For now, I'm seriously having second thoughts concerning my decision. Definitely something I need to think about. Elsewhere in the world, next week I'm going to the lake with friends and family. No Hydro, so no computers or Internet there. No distractions, so my diary and I can focus on the written word and ponder the future. I will be bringing a couple of books. Something from Orson Scott Card, I think. Not totally sure yet. That or 'Dark Night of the Soul'. Deep thoughts or what?
Would that I had more to say about this or about anything else, but I have a book that needs my attention. A life of Xenophon. That's what comes from typing in a keyword on the WPL OPAC and seeing what happens. BYE.

Miscommunication with da Muse

We don't talk much anymore, the Muse and I. That or I'm just not as interested in writing as I once was. Beyond scribbling in my journal and blogging, I'm just not into working on any projects. My focus has moved somewhat, and unless I really believe in what I'm doing, I see no reason to dedicate a lot of time to it. I've traded the flavour of Fantasy for Introspection. If I do get back into novel-writing, it will have to be related somehow to the massive inner examination. This book, like all the rest, will probably not reach the bookstore shelves, as I don't have a whole lot of drive beyond the writing part of the journey. Revision is not my strong suit, and I don't have a lot of patience or interest in revising. Also, I spent my teens and 20s writing novels out, and I think I'm a little tired of it. Therefore, I'm going to dedicate more time to reading (as if I didn't already spend a lot of time reading) and looking within. More blog-fodder, you might say.
Elsewhere, I'm revisiting 'The words of my perfect teacher', which astounded me a while ago. Still astounds me, and is definitely a book I would like to have on my shelf. Assuming there are still copies floating around out there, since I would never steal a book from the WPL. After I have finished reading this wonderful, enlightening book, I will get back to Pepys and make it right to the end. Then comes Shakespeare, which enlightens in its own way. King Richard II, which was fairly bloody, if I recall correctly. One series I'm tiptoeing into is B. Jacques' 'Redwall' series. A little young for me? Never too old to enjoy a good book, and 'Mossflower' was certainly a good book. I'm not reading this series in any particular order. That will come later, assuming I like enough of the books.
I guess that's about all for now. I'll get back to characters, plot and setting another time. Just not feeling the Muse's touch right now. Besides, the Muse speaks in so many voices. Maybe I'm just not listening with the right ear. BYE.

On the Literary Front #7

"Breathe life into the world you've created." Sage advice from a treasured teacher I had in Grade 12. Little flashes of description coming together to brighten and colour the world. I continue to heed the call of the Muse, and I'm enjoying the act of creation. The 'stranger in a strange world' motif is definitely coming into play in this literary project. Not only is my protagonist learning about the world he's part of, but so am I (and maybe even someday a reader will learn about it as well). I'm starting to see this world. Using a computer makes things less set in stone, so everything about the world I'm crafting for my characters can still change. Makes me wonder what J.R.R. Tolkien would've done with a computer? I bet he'd ignore it and continue to work with pencil, paper, and maybe a typewriter. Ray Bradbury wants nothing to do with computers as far as writing is concerned. I wonder what he thinks about fan fiction?
Elsewhere on the literary front, I'm reading a series by Garth Nix. I'm still trying to get my hands on the first book in the series (presently reading book 2 and I have book 3 in waiting). Not the long series (the one named for days of the week, I think it is), but that one may soon follow. I'm also trying to get through the 'Dark Tower' series. I have the 6th book in waiting and I just borrowed the 7th in the series. Pretty pleased about getting through it fairly quickly. Anyway, that's what's going on with me right now. February is almost done. My b-day is closing in. Yeeee-haaaaaa! BYE.

On the Literary Front #6?

I'm doggedly working at a rewrite of a project. Much of this is going to get cut back (assuming it ever sees a publisher), but I needed to flesh the world out big time and understand where my protagonist was coming from. I just couldn't see my main character or understand him. How can I send this character on his journey without knowing something about it. Under the previous take of the project, I could barely see him or the world he inhabited. Shame on me! I've also been reading a lot of Cornelia Funke, and her work just makes mine look barren. I guess what I'm writing is just background stuff, which is why it's going to get cut down in time. That or I still won't have enough description. There's no fast and hard rule as to the length of a chapter, and that's something that bugs me. It's a power thing, I guess. Just the need to know what the rules are. In the end, I guess it's just a matter of writing until the chapter feels done.
Of course, an 8 1/2 x 11 page full of description and dialogue is different from the page in a book. I'm not sure how much of the former becomes the latter. It's something I've wondered about for some time. Meanwhile, I've reached ch. 3 in this project and am introducing another character into the mix. A guide of sorts for the protagonist, if you will. One thing I set out to do with this project was to keep prophecy out of the mix as much as possible. As you might know, I find prophecy to be far too prevalent in Fantasy and Sci-fi genres. Of course, without the crutch of prophecy, I've needed to look deeper and see what is driving my protagonist. Is he just a pawn for greater forces or just a guy trying to find his way in the world? I've been trying to put myself in my protagonist's shoes. Not easy with the character I've come up with.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to get through a rather dull book of essays that examine Karl Popper's work and theories. I'm just about done, and I'm close to breathing a sigh of relief about that. This is definitely not a book I wish to revisit in a year's time. Did you know that Xmas break is just two weeks away for me? Pretty remarkable stuff! And my tree is decorated and the snow is finally falling. Time to get started on Xmas shopping! BYE.

On the Literary Front #5

Apologies for the lengthy absence. My computer's been giving me grief so I sent it to the shop. Something to do with Vista not liking me or something like that. Anyway, without my computer and my beloved Sims to keep my fingers busy, I've been doing a lot of writing and typing. The writing is mostly in my diary and the typing is at my laptop, where dormant stories are getting looked at and updated. I'm presently working on a book about two sisters, which makes sense considering I have a sister. The plot's different from the one I'm living, and I'm finding it a nice change to type rather than plan out what my Sims are going to do from one hour to the next.
Instead, it's what my characters are doing from one scene to the next. I was able to get a chapter and a half typed out over the last few days and I'm feeling really good about all the work I've been able to do. Perhaps, when my computer gets back, I'll fall back into playing God and plotting my Sims' futures. That or I'll spend my summer typing and writing. I suppose I could do both, but one cannot worship two masters. I think, in the grand scheme of things, I would rather be in service to the Muse than to the Game. The Muse is more tempermental, but it doesn't make my computer crash nearly as much.
Oh, and I have to get my hands on a new video card for my computer. I think that's what's causing all the strife. Sims 3 is just too much for my 'high-end' computer. That's why I like my laptop. Sims 2 was too much for it, so all I can do with it now is play Pinball and type my brains out! And that's what I'm gonna do this summer. That and apartment hunt. That's showing some promise as well. I've got some apartments to check out tomorrow. Wish me luck! BYE.

On the Literary Front #4

I've attended a few funerals in my life, but they've all been of family members, and my family's fairly close-knit and there are no animosities that I know of that would have the power to break the surface tension of solemnity and proper decorum. That's why a scene I'm working on today, which is a funeral scene starring an estranged family with lots of secrets and feuds, is not the easiest thing to see in my mind's eye, let alone portray. Sure, I've seen such scenes recreated in books and on the tube, but having some sort of physical and personal reference would make the scene all the more real. Not that I'm asking my family to start feuding for something as insigificant as my projects. I'll make do with what I have.
It's Easter Sunday and the story's going to get told again. Another reason why I don't go to church. Enough digression. I decided to write about my projects, and so I am. I have two (thankfully, only two!) projects going these days, and when I need a break from reading, I either pick up the clipboard or turn to my laptop. Technically, I've got three projects going. Two series, three projects, if you get my drift. I love working on my novel projects. It's something to keep my brain busy, and results in some really neat diary entries when I'm contemplating and brainstorming. I know I don't do enough of these posts, but Real Life keeps intruding and I need to share what Real Life's thrown at me.
Anyway, I'm working on one series centering around that estranged family I mentioned. They're based in Manitoba and are dealing with old secrets and other things. I'm currently typing out a second draft of the first book in the series and writing out the second book. I can't say if this series is going to stretch into a third book. It's my attempt at purely straight fiction. I've done Fantasy and even some Mystery. I figured it was time to try fiction, but it feels like some sort of soap opera at times. All the dramatic interplay between family members. Oh well. I'm going to keep plugging away at it until both books are done. Bear in mind; I'm doing this because I want to, and NOT because it might earn me a few bucks. If I could see my name on the bookstore shelf for even a day, I would be inexpressibly happy.
The other series has me going back into the Fantasy realm, and yet keeping somewhat within the boundaries of fiction. My way to explain my beliefs and figure more than a few things out. I'm not going to elaborate because I know someone out there is going to ding me for redundancy and for going over well-trod ground. If I am, so be it. If I'm going a whole new way, so be it. I guess that's about all for the time being. I was going to write about 'Phineas redux', but I found something else to write about. Just know that 'Phineas redux' is a really good book. Currently reading Robert Ludlum. BYE.

On the Literary Front #3

Wrapped up a day and a bit of Book Fair and spent the weekend recuperating from standing much more than is good for me. My ankle ached relentlessly from all the abuse and I had to wear a Tensor bandage all yesterday. Things are improved now, and I can actually walk without whimpering at every laboured step. This post is more about what I'm reading than what I'm writing, but it counts as literary in my book. I finished reading one version on Homer's 'Iliad' recently and I have a few things to meander through concerning this legended saga and its players. I didn't come across the Trojan Horse while I read, so I have to figure that it will come up elsewhere. Maybe in 'Aeneid', eh? I have a collection of works by Virgil warming up, and the 'Aeneid' is part of this collection. Anyway, I have another version of 'Iliad' waiting in the wings, which I will eventually pull out and read.
It's part of my plan to compare the two versions and see what difference and similarities come up. The first of the two I read was translated by a fellow by the name of Butler. It was set up in a prose format rather than a poetry format, which I found unusual. I enjoyed the story and characters, but it was the writing that I paid attention to. Well-written to say the least. Rich with details I don't recall from past readings, which I figure were added to flesh out the story. This is needed for prose compared to poetry, which does not always need many words to get its point across. This time I also paid closer attention to the characters. During past readings, I could rarely determine which heroes fought for which side. Were Aeneas and Achilles compatriots or something? They fought on opposite sides, to be honest with you. This was something I did not know. Now I'll probably never forget.
What really blew me away was Homer's treatment of the gods and goddesses. They prove to be as flawed as us foolish mortals, and this makes Them even worse than we are, in my considered opinion. Hera rooted for the Greeks, Aphrodite rooted for the Trojans, and Zeus had to play judge between the two warring factions. Reminds me of the gladiator games, where the wealthy figures had their favourites and bet big money on them. The gods and goddess of Olympus were just big shots playing with thousands of lives, which makes Them far worse than those wealthy figures of later years. Like pieces on a vast chessboard; or, to use a 20th century comparison, like warriors in a video game, battling for dominance in a pixellated universe. No wonder companies make video games, mining the myths and sagas for inspiration.
I'll be back before long, and maybe with more myths to discuss. BYE.

On the Literary Front #2

Looking over the past year, I've come to realize that my self-discipline is horribly lacking, and I'm a fiend for distractions. I'm not trying to punish myself, nor is this a set-up for a New Year's resolution. I resolved once upon a time to not make such resolutions. The word resolve has a few different definitions, doesn't it? To make a resolution stick, one needs plenty of resolve. Over the past year, although I have dedicated quite a bit of time to my projects, it is just not enough. In the past, it was just an extreme craving to read just about anything that struck my fancy. Right now, I'm starting on a book of Matthew Arnold's works. A little dry but I'm a fiend for Matthew Arnold, so it's okay.
The problem is that I've become something of a gamer, and this new interest eats up time I don't dedicate to reading. Computer games are all I can afford (financially), but it's enough to swallow up time I should be dedicating to typing and fleshing out plot and characters. When I started working again, I knew I had to cut down on a few pastimes, but during my Xmas break, I've done a little bit of work on one of my projects, and I've come to understand that I really haven't done as much as I could and should. There must be give-and-take, so for me to give more time to working on my projects, there must be some take from the other things I do (not including ingestion and rest).
The gaming would have to be the first thing to go, I should say. All I need now is the self-discipline to get going. Maybe blogging should also fall by the wayside, but considering I just started doing this several months ago, I think that decision can wait. Hard to say. Also, I really need to get a couple of chapters out to that writer-in-residence I mentioned earlier this year. Somehow, all that resolve and drive got lost on the way. Ouch!! Time to change and get working. If I were to make a resolution, I would be thinking along those lines. Time to get back to Matthew Arnold. BYE.

On the Literary Front #1

I can multitask fairly well and have several projects working all at the same time. For now, I have three projects and am trying to juggle them all. My new job starts in about a week and I suspect that without all my leisure time, one of my projects will fall by the wayside. This is not what I wanted to talk about today, however. The impossible dream is to get published writing for yourself. I think the vast majority of published authors know this. I don't call this blog genuine published writing; if it's not physical, it's not real. I'm glad I have the chance to share my thoughts with anyone interested on this blog, but pardon me if I don't consider it the genuine article.
The genuine article will only come when I get a letter from a publishing house telling me that they like my work and want to publish it. That is published material. I've complained about the phrase 'unsolicited manuscript' before, so I won't go down that path again. Actually, I wanted to talk about writing for myself vs. writing for money (which is writing for someone else, I think). In my short career as an unpublished writer, I have never written for anyone but myself. I cannot write for someone else (but I appreciate someone else's opinion of my work) and that's that. The rejection letters I have received in the past say 'My work is not suitable for such-and-such a publishing house' but they wish me luck. I would like something better, but I'm patient.
I would like to write for a paycheck; no matter how crass or empty that sounds, and no matter how hellish the deadlines would be. I have two projects ready for submission, but I'm waiting for a published author's opinion to encourage me. The Winnipeg Public Library has a yearly 'writer-in-residence' post and I'm just waiting for them to choose a new 'writer-in-residence' so I can submit my work for perusal. Wish me luck on that front. Until something gets published, I'll be a library tech and unpublished writer with the sole dream of seeing something I've written on the shelf at 'Chapters'. That is the only goal, although the money would be nice as well.