Write Drunk, Edit Sober
For the record, there are so many other things I'm supposed to be doing right now. But sometimes I just have to write, although I wish the writing process was as easy as the urge to write makes it seem. Does that make sense? Am I making any sense right now?
I'm sitting in a coffee house. I could be doing this from my room at home, or I could be doing this from the bagel shop where I got lunch, which had wireless. But I chose to come here. I don't know what it is about a coffee shop environment that people find so creatively stimulating, Maybe it's simply the fact that they serve coffee here- the very fuel that keeps the hard working creative mind going when food and sleep do not fit into the schedule anymore. Maybe it's because they are so comfortable and inviting. It's like sitting in someone else's living room- you are essentially doing the same amount of nothing that you could do in your own home if you sat around on a couch with a beverage for hours, but the mere fact that you are out someplace else, surrounded by different people, makes you feel like you are somehow cool, as if you have a life. You are "out". Where people can see you. And you could let them think you are anybody you want, as long as you bring the right props with you and dress in the right attire. You're "trendy", aren't you? Sitting there with your 5-word-long beverage and novel and that macbook... wait. Iced white chocolate mocha.... ha! Only four words! Oh who am I kidding, I'm just as bad as the rest of them.
Another thing about coffee houses- people treat them like singles bars. They are prime locations for flirting and meeting people. It's a common choice for a first date, or a casual way of getting to know someone you like. And people love hitting on baristas. They are mostly attractive young men and women working behind the counter, giving you the coffee that keeps you alive throughout the day, and they are paid to be nice to you, in hopes that you'll pull out that one extra dollar and throw it in their tip jar. And customers love this. Maybe they have all seen too many romantic comedies, and wish that they could have that cutesy barista/customer flirting relationship that always works out happily ever after in the movies. There's nothing wrong with hoping for such a thing. I just think it's funny that so many people have the same fantasy.
The difference is, the customer has nothing to gain by flirting with the barista. The barista only flirts with you because you'll be a better customer if you think that you have a chance with them. You smile at them, you tip better, you're a regular. Yeah, they are in love with you now.
Incidentally, I notice that Trader Joe's stores seem to have the same effect on people.
Ever get a thought while you're writing, but before you've reached the part in your writing that leads into the thought that you've had, you've already forgotten what the thought was? That just happened to me now. Does that make any sense?
Oh my god, is this woman sitting next to me going to make that sucking noise with her mouth the whole time? What does she have, gum or something? Ugh it's gross and annoying... where are my headphones?
Eew eew eew, hurry up and open, iTunes!
Aaaahhh.. that's better. ♫ d-_-b ♫
Why in the world would you be chewing gum while you have coffee?
The title of this entry, "write drunk, edit sober" is a quote that I got from my English teacher, which he got from Ernest Hemmingway. It was one of the first things he taught to us this semester, and the one he has repeated the most so far. To me, it's the best philosophy to implement as far as one's attitude towards writing. I'm often left with no choice to "write drunk", because often when I want to come up with something amazing to write, overthinking it makes it impossible to even come up with a beginning. But just diving into it and worrying about how you sound later, and erasing all the crap and stupid useless sentences later, is a much more productive approach. At least something gets written.
In this entry, I am going to talk about everything I can think of. It's going to be long. It will probably not be coherent. But hopefully it will be interesting.
Do you like how I chose to introduce my entry several paragraphs into it?
One thing I've learned is that one of the least interesting things you could write about is the fact that you don't know what to write about.
The guy sitting across from me keeps glancing up from me. I wonder if the woman's sucking noises have gotten to him yet. I am SO glad I brought these earbuds.
Uh oh. The sunlight is starting to hit my screen. And forearm. I am soon going to be victim of... of .. having a warmer arm... and um... a shinier screen.
Okay I think I've officially lost my momentum to write. But I'll keep going. Maybe I'll get it back.
Guy sitting across from me definitely keeps looking up at me whenever he has a chance to make it seem natural. For instance, he noticed that I'm bothered by the sunlight on my screen and offered his seat. I did not accept, of course. Then he'd have the same problem on his screen. And I don't feel like getting all my stuff up and moving over there.
Great. Now I can see my own reflection better than I can see the things on my screen.
That time of year is approaching. The time when I go on my endless rant about all the things I have learned to hate about Christmas over the years. It really does suck being an adult. What has happened to me?
One thing I really hate is the annual brainwashing effect that Christmas season seems to have on everyone. And I blame it on Christmas music. Today my boyfriend reminded me of the time I compared hearing Christmas music playing in stores to being on the receiving end of a Dutch Oven. You're just minding you're own business, unsuspecting, and then BAM! This unpleasant, horrible music comes on and you find yourself stuck in the store as they hold your head under the sheets, forcing you to endure it's nauseating music until you either throw up or pass out. Ha! We've lured you in and now you have to listen to our horrible HORRIBLE music! It was our plan all along! Happy Christmas shopping- tis the season, motherfucker! Now hurry up and buy something or get out, because we got another one coming up as soon as this one's over!
Sick.
Spend your money! Buy our crap! Or else you're a grinch!! Scrooge! Booo you don't like Christmas! How dare you get tired of hearing the same 20 songs played annually every single year of your life! What do you mean you don't want to do gifts? Just shut up and buy the damn toaster! It has a built in hot-dog maker! It's what Christmas is all about! It will make you feel GOOD inside! Good! Happy! Fuzzy! Shopping! Spending! Giving! Marketing! Patronage! Consumerism! Jolly fucking emptying your bank account joy! If you don't get into the Christmas spirit, the companies won't make extra money, the executives won't get their bonuses, and the economy as you know it will collapse!! For God's sake spend your money and be happy about it!! It's what Jesus fucking died for!!!
Whoa. Sorry about that.
Maybe I should go and do homework now.
Psshh hahaha that's not going to happen. For one thing it's still daylight outside. I'll just keep writing until I'm suddenly a genius. That's how it works, right?
I can't believe how many people drive fancy sports cars here in southern California. The stereotypes really are true. Every young person I meet outside of art school is a total ditz.
Art school. If you ever wonder where all the weirdos, loners, nerds, autistics, and freakazoids end up after high school, they all go to art school. And they unite and are happier than ever in their lives, because we have all finally found each other. But think about it- how many famous, genius artists were also completely fucking bizarre? I'd say most of them. They are different, they are beings all their own. And after their lives are over and their art is remembered and admired, people think about their social oddities as endearing, and mysterious quirky qualities that caused the artist to think so much differently than everyone else. Ever look at a painting and wonder what the hell was going through the artist's mind when he/she was creating it? Their unique thought processes are what set them apart from "normal" people. But when they are young, they're better known as "nerds", "losers", "weirdos", "klutzes", "goths".... Do not underestimate these people. Their awkwardness makes them way cooler than you, Mr. Normal left-brained conventional thinker.
I hope I didn't inadvertently offend anyone in that last paragraph. I can think of a few possible ways that I might have. But I think I'll leave it as-is. Hopefully you will forgive me. I mean you no harm.
One neurosis I do battle with often is the fear that I may have upset someone without knowing it. I have known far too many people who choose the passive-aggressive approach to dealing with problems, so I am now paranoid that people are mad at me without telling me. Please, if I do or say something to upset you, PLEASE don't keep it to yourself and resent me for it. I would much rather you tell me flat out. "I don't like what you just said." But don't leave it at that. Please keep talking to me until we can reach a mutual resolution... don't ever be more angry with me than you are letting on. I am not very intuitive, so if you don't tell me why you're mad, I won't know. But trying to figure out why will drive me insane. It's very mean. I've had near nervous breakdowns for it in the past. I hate mind games. Lets all be open with each other. Lets not get snarky or catty or double-meaningd. It only causes stress.
Are you still reading this? I've been working on it for hours.
This entry has been a lot like speeding down the 405 freeway with a blindfold on while those fucking California drivers tailgate you because even though you're doing 85 in a 65 zone, you're still going way too slow for them and so you are getting jostled about by traffic and trucks and you don't know how it's all going to end but before you know it you've somehow made it to Reno when all you wanted to do was get to San Diego and your car is about to over heat and catch fire from your A/C and some mafia warlords are hot on your tail so you can't stop but you can't keep going and it's surely all going to end in chaos and disaster!
I think I'll stop here. I have satisfied the urge to write and rant. I really should do this more often. I wish I had more blog readers. Where is everybody? I like feedback and comments. When I don't think anybody reads, I don't have a motivation to keep updating. But I don't know many people that use live journal.
I'm bad at conclusions. Bye.
I'm sitting in a coffee house. I could be doing this from my room at home, or I could be doing this from the bagel shop where I got lunch, which had wireless. But I chose to come here. I don't know what it is about a coffee shop environment that people find so creatively stimulating, Maybe it's simply the fact that they serve coffee here- the very fuel that keeps the hard working creative mind going when food and sleep do not fit into the schedule anymore. Maybe it's because they are so comfortable and inviting. It's like sitting in someone else's living room- you are essentially doing the same amount of nothing that you could do in your own home if you sat around on a couch with a beverage for hours, but the mere fact that you are out someplace else, surrounded by different people, makes you feel like you are somehow cool, as if you have a life. You are "out". Where people can see you. And you could let them think you are anybody you want, as long as you bring the right props with you and dress in the right attire. You're "trendy", aren't you? Sitting there with your 5-word-long beverage and novel and that macbook... wait. Iced white chocolate mocha.... ha! Only four words! Oh who am I kidding, I'm just as bad as the rest of them.
Another thing about coffee houses- people treat them like singles bars. They are prime locations for flirting and meeting people. It's a common choice for a first date, or a casual way of getting to know someone you like. And people love hitting on baristas. They are mostly attractive young men and women working behind the counter, giving you the coffee that keeps you alive throughout the day, and they are paid to be nice to you, in hopes that you'll pull out that one extra dollar and throw it in their tip jar. And customers love this. Maybe they have all seen too many romantic comedies, and wish that they could have that cutesy barista/customer flirting relationship that always works out happily ever after in the movies. There's nothing wrong with hoping for such a thing. I just think it's funny that so many people have the same fantasy.
The difference is, the customer has nothing to gain by flirting with the barista. The barista only flirts with you because you'll be a better customer if you think that you have a chance with them. You smile at them, you tip better, you're a regular. Yeah, they are in love with you now.
Incidentally, I notice that Trader Joe's stores seem to have the same effect on people.
Ever get a thought while you're writing, but before you've reached the part in your writing that leads into the thought that you've had, you've already forgotten what the thought was? That just happened to me now. Does that make any sense?
Oh my god, is this woman sitting next to me going to make that sucking noise with her mouth the whole time? What does she have, gum or something? Ugh it's gross and annoying... where are my headphones?
Eew eew eew, hurry up and open, iTunes!
Aaaahhh.. that's better. ♫ d-_-b ♫
Why in the world would you be chewing gum while you have coffee?
The title of this entry, "write drunk, edit sober" is a quote that I got from my English teacher, which he got from Ernest Hemmingway. It was one of the first things he taught to us this semester, and the one he has repeated the most so far. To me, it's the best philosophy to implement as far as one's attitude towards writing. I'm often left with no choice to "write drunk", because often when I want to come up with something amazing to write, overthinking it makes it impossible to even come up with a beginning. But just diving into it and worrying about how you sound later, and erasing all the crap and stupid useless sentences later, is a much more productive approach. At least something gets written.
In this entry, I am going to talk about everything I can think of. It's going to be long. It will probably not be coherent. But hopefully it will be interesting.
Do you like how I chose to introduce my entry several paragraphs into it?
One thing I've learned is that one of the least interesting things you could write about is the fact that you don't know what to write about.
The guy sitting across from me keeps glancing up from me. I wonder if the woman's sucking noises have gotten to him yet. I am SO glad I brought these earbuds.
Uh oh. The sunlight is starting to hit my screen. And forearm. I am soon going to be victim of... of .. having a warmer arm... and um... a shinier screen.
Okay I think I've officially lost my momentum to write. But I'll keep going. Maybe I'll get it back.
Guy sitting across from me definitely keeps looking up at me whenever he has a chance to make it seem natural. For instance, he noticed that I'm bothered by the sunlight on my screen and offered his seat. I did not accept, of course. Then he'd have the same problem on his screen. And I don't feel like getting all my stuff up and moving over there.
Great. Now I can see my own reflection better than I can see the things on my screen.
That time of year is approaching. The time when I go on my endless rant about all the things I have learned to hate about Christmas over the years. It really does suck being an adult. What has happened to me?
One thing I really hate is the annual brainwashing effect that Christmas season seems to have on everyone. And I blame it on Christmas music. Today my boyfriend reminded me of the time I compared hearing Christmas music playing in stores to being on the receiving end of a Dutch Oven. You're just minding you're own business, unsuspecting, and then BAM! This unpleasant, horrible music comes on and you find yourself stuck in the store as they hold your head under the sheets, forcing you to endure it's nauseating music until you either throw up or pass out. Ha! We've lured you in and now you have to listen to our horrible HORRIBLE music! It was our plan all along! Happy Christmas shopping- tis the season, motherfucker! Now hurry up and buy something or get out, because we got another one coming up as soon as this one's over!
Sick.
Spend your money! Buy our crap! Or else you're a grinch!! Scrooge! Booo you don't like Christmas! How dare you get tired of hearing the same 20 songs played annually every single year of your life! What do you mean you don't want to do gifts? Just shut up and buy the damn toaster! It has a built in hot-dog maker! It's what Christmas is all about! It will make you feel GOOD inside! Good! Happy! Fuzzy! Shopping! Spending! Giving! Marketing! Patronage! Consumerism! Jolly fucking emptying your bank account joy! If you don't get into the Christmas spirit, the companies won't make extra money, the executives won't get their bonuses, and the economy as you know it will collapse!! For God's sake spend your money and be happy about it!! It's what Jesus fucking died for!!!
Whoa. Sorry about that.
Maybe I should go and do homework now.
Psshh hahaha that's not going to happen. For one thing it's still daylight outside. I'll just keep writing until I'm suddenly a genius. That's how it works, right?
I can't believe how many people drive fancy sports cars here in southern California. The stereotypes really are true. Every young person I meet outside of art school is a total ditz.
Art school. If you ever wonder where all the weirdos, loners, nerds, autistics, and freakazoids end up after high school, they all go to art school. And they unite and are happier than ever in their lives, because we have all finally found each other. But think about it- how many famous, genius artists were also completely fucking bizarre? I'd say most of them. They are different, they are beings all their own. And after their lives are over and their art is remembered and admired, people think about their social oddities as endearing, and mysterious quirky qualities that caused the artist to think so much differently than everyone else. Ever look at a painting and wonder what the hell was going through the artist's mind when he/she was creating it? Their unique thought processes are what set them apart from "normal" people. But when they are young, they're better known as "nerds", "losers", "weirdos", "klutzes", "goths".... Do not underestimate these people. Their awkwardness makes them way cooler than you, Mr. Normal left-brained conventional thinker.
I hope I didn't inadvertently offend anyone in that last paragraph. I can think of a few possible ways that I might have. But I think I'll leave it as-is. Hopefully you will forgive me. I mean you no harm.
One neurosis I do battle with often is the fear that I may have upset someone without knowing it. I have known far too many people who choose the passive-aggressive approach to dealing with problems, so I am now paranoid that people are mad at me without telling me. Please, if I do or say something to upset you, PLEASE don't keep it to yourself and resent me for it. I would much rather you tell me flat out. "I don't like what you just said." But don't leave it at that. Please keep talking to me until we can reach a mutual resolution... don't ever be more angry with me than you are letting on. I am not very intuitive, so if you don't tell me why you're mad, I won't know. But trying to figure out why will drive me insane. It's very mean. I've had near nervous breakdowns for it in the past. I hate mind games. Lets all be open with each other. Lets not get snarky or catty or double-meaningd. It only causes stress.
Are you still reading this? I've been working on it for hours.
This entry has been a lot like speeding down the 405 freeway with a blindfold on while those fucking California drivers tailgate you because even though you're doing 85 in a 65 zone, you're still going way too slow for them and so you are getting jostled about by traffic and trucks and you don't know how it's all going to end but before you know it you've somehow made it to Reno when all you wanted to do was get to San Diego and your car is about to over heat and catch fire from your A/C and some mafia warlords are hot on your tail so you can't stop but you can't keep going and it's surely all going to end in chaos and disaster!
I think I'll stop here. I have satisfied the urge to write and rant. I really should do this more often. I wish I had more blog readers. Where is everybody? I like feedback and comments. When I don't think anybody reads, I don't have a motivation to keep updating. But I don't know many people that use live journal.
I'm bad at conclusions. Bye.