(no subject)
My name is Rob, and this is not a voicepost. I hope you enjoy it all the same.
I've determined the biggest problem in my writing is deciding WHICH story to write. As I've touched on, I have two ideas I'd love to sit down and re-flesh out and work on more professionally: A comic series universe idea, dealing with a comic-book style world through the eyes of a group of young college-aged protagonists which would be a "four years later" pick up from where my original series detailing their lives ended, or a fantasy novel series, a la Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings or some other finite novel series detailing characters in an extraordinary scenario and world (not that I'd ever claim to be as good of a writer or as creative as Rowling or Tolkien [though, truth told, I do not ENJOY Tolkien's work, I appreciate it for the genius stuff it is regardless. Except for the movies, which are boring]. Every time I think "Zvarri!, I'm going to start writing THAT one!", as soon as I start formulating solid ideas for it, I begin to think I may do better on the other. It's been a problem for a long time. I have a lot of issues with both, self-doubts, if you will, that I have a hard time struggling through. I'll get there. It takes a lot of effort on my part.
My comic series idea--The Chosen, for lack of the fact that I can't title or name things for balls--is really close to me, and has been my default writing for years. I love the characters, and just have so many ideas for their whole lives; I feel like it really is something I could write forever because there's so much that can be done, and I love endless series like comic books where there is constant room for growth and change. And I love doing a pick up of 3 or 4 years later--the original series ended at the end of the main quintet's high school graduation--to share how much has changed and give the characters a breath of life and a fresh start.
My novel idea--Kyre--is such a fully-developed start-to-finish series idea which I think would make a great work for successful publishing. It's an idea a friend and I worked on together and each dedicated so much to, and it has so many ties to real life mythos and history. There are so many movies and books and shows and games that I have drawn from to work on inspiring various aspects of Kyre, and I love that it has a definitive endinh, but there is so much room for tinkering and throwing in more ideas. There are heaps of history and geography research that the series would require, and I have to admit, that's really intimidating.
I don't know why I can't work on both at the same time. I could; I should. It just seems so foreboding. I want to see them both see the light of day. I miss The Chosen and writing those guys out, and I also want so much to re-work my old writings on Kyre and making it the original novel series I always dreamed of. Both are full of such great characters.
So this past Friday, I went out to dinner with my family while in Tampa for my birthday. That was...a whole thing. First off, I was kind of put-off because my grandparents invited a bunch of people I don't even know; it ended up being me, my grandparents, my aunt (great, I love her), my step-dad (which was just fine. This is my step-family, by the way...that confuses people. I love my step-family so much that I never think to refer to them as such; I was as close to them growing up as any other part of my family), my step-dad's long-time girlfriend/fiance/whatever (never met her, and apparently when I went down last November and my mom was still alive, she refused to meet me, so...awesome), her daughter and her boyfriend (who are you people? why are you here?), and the Irish kid that is one of my step-dad's tennis students that is staying with the family for a few months (what now? come on). The daughter and her boyfriend said maybe all of two words to me the whole time I was there (which can be attributed to how anti-social I am as much as anything else), the Irish kid probably less. The fiance was actually very nice and pleasant to me, so there's that. My step-dad, though... Sigh. I should maybe backtrack a bit here...
My mom and dad separated back when I was 3 or 4, and my mom and Lance (my step-dad) got together almost immediately thereafter (they worked together). By the time I was 8, they got married. Growing up, I was very close to Lance, and he was a great guy. He and I took trips cross-country for his tennis business and spent tons of time together. We joked, we hung out; it was a great relationship. Right before I turned 18, he bolted for the chick he was cheating on my mom with. Now, at the time, my mom was in the early stages of what would end up being her all-encompassing pain pill abuse and alcoholism, but it seemed like we had a great family, so I never noticed it. I was PO'ed at Lance for leaving her and never telling me what was going on and just leaving without a word, so I disavowed him. Over the last ten years, I've spoken to him probably fewer than 10 times, and only through great encouragement of my grandmother. Knowing what I know now...I picked the wrong side in that war. My mom was the cunt who didn't care about anything but herself, and Lance was smart to get out. I wish I had known what was going on, so I could have left, too, but...not so much, and after he left, I had to struggle through years of repeated moving and violence and theft. Last November, I went to Florida to see my family, and I tried to reconnect with Lance. We spoke a handful of times in the past year, especially after my mom died when he finally told me a lot of what was going on inside our not-as-peaceful middle class home. Which was good: I enjoyed talking to him and having the chance to get him back in my life. Even my dad was happy that it was happening.
But this week, after I'd been happy to see him again...he was just kind of a jerk. I was getting really annoyed with him at dinner. I mean, he wasn't being mean or anything, he just kept asking me about work and what I want to be doing and where I want to be going, which--while an acceptable topic of conversation--is not something I like discussing (as per my entry fairly recently about Thanksgiving). That's not his fault for asking about that, but it was putting me on edge. Then, however, he saw I don't drink (our restaurant couldn't fulfill our reservation, so they offered free drinks, and I said I don't), and he just kept getting on me about how if I don't drink and I don't go out partying, I'd never meet a girl; how will I ever meet a girl if I don't go out socializing at clubs? Just...on-and-on. It felt like I was back in high school and one of my friends was like "YOU DON'T DRINK OMG WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" And Lance obviously knows what I went through with my mom, he should accept that I, of all people, do not drink. Why would I? But I dunno...he was being nice, it was just really annoying me, like I am supposed to be living out who he thinks I should be after he ran out on me ten years ago, or that my morality is not good enough for the way I live, or that if I don't have a girlfriend, I am somehow less valuable. I've played the girlfriend game this whole decade except for the last year; girls are twats. All they care about is money and jobs and fucking other guys. Even the very best relationships I've had were full of my being lied to or told that my best wasn't good enough for them or being told all of my shortcomings. I'm very happy not being in relationship, and if I have to turn into some frat boy bar guy to get one...fuck it even more. So don't judge me, step-dad. But I'm probably overreacting, so I do feel really guilty about it. He was really pleasant except for the continued insistence about my needing to go out drinking to pick up some useless commodity I don't even want.
This is all turning out so much more venomous that I intended. I let my venom at the female gender that I'd been burying for a while encroach in at the end there, and Lance was very nice and generous the rest of the night. I think I'll call him tomorrow and say thank you for the birthday card and money and the time. I need to stop being so cynical; I'm sure he didn't invite his family to meet me so I could feel excluded; he invited them so I could feel INCLUDED. I just...hate having my not-drinking lifestyle viewed as an oddity, and I don't want to be told how much I need a girl when I really am coming to despise pretty much the gender as a whole for the way they have perpetually treated me (super magic fun fact: Rob's friends list is made up virtually entirely of girls. THIS ENTRY BODES POORLY).
This entry is not humorous. It's not emo, but it's not funny. We need to liven it up.
WHAT DO YOU TELL A GIRL WITH TWO BLACK EYES? NOTHING! YOU ALREADY TOLD HER TWICE!
LITTLE JOHNNY WALKS INTO SCHOOL AND TELLS HIS CLASS "MY BROTHER WAS IN A REALLY BA ACCIDENT! HE GOT THE GEARSHIFT STUCK UP HIS ASS, AND THEY HAD TO OPERATE ON HIS ASS!" THE TEACHER IS TAKEN ABACK AND SAYS "JOHNNY! DON'T SAY THAT WORD! SAY 'RECTUM'!" JOHNNY SAYS "WRECKED HIM? DAMN NEAR KILLED HIM!"
It's super happy fun time comedy hour at LJ. Woo woo.
I've determined the biggest problem in my writing is deciding WHICH story to write. As I've touched on, I have two ideas I'd love to sit down and re-flesh out and work on more professionally: A comic series universe idea, dealing with a comic-book style world through the eyes of a group of young college-aged protagonists which would be a "four years later" pick up from where my original series detailing their lives ended, or a fantasy novel series, a la Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings or some other finite novel series detailing characters in an extraordinary scenario and world (not that I'd ever claim to be as good of a writer or as creative as Rowling or Tolkien [though, truth told, I do not ENJOY Tolkien's work, I appreciate it for the genius stuff it is regardless. Except for the movies, which are boring]. Every time I think "Zvarri!, I'm going to start writing THAT one!", as soon as I start formulating solid ideas for it, I begin to think I may do better on the other. It's been a problem for a long time. I have a lot of issues with both, self-doubts, if you will, that I have a hard time struggling through. I'll get there. It takes a lot of effort on my part.
My comic series idea--The Chosen, for lack of the fact that I can't title or name things for balls--is really close to me, and has been my default writing for years. I love the characters, and just have so many ideas for their whole lives; I feel like it really is something I could write forever because there's so much that can be done, and I love endless series like comic books where there is constant room for growth and change. And I love doing a pick up of 3 or 4 years later--the original series ended at the end of the main quintet's high school graduation--to share how much has changed and give the characters a breath of life and a fresh start.
My novel idea--Kyre--is such a fully-developed start-to-finish series idea which I think would make a great work for successful publishing. It's an idea a friend and I worked on together and each dedicated so much to, and it has so many ties to real life mythos and history. There are so many movies and books and shows and games that I have drawn from to work on inspiring various aspects of Kyre, and I love that it has a definitive endinh, but there is so much room for tinkering and throwing in more ideas. There are heaps of history and geography research that the series would require, and I have to admit, that's really intimidating.
I don't know why I can't work on both at the same time. I could; I should. It just seems so foreboding. I want to see them both see the light of day. I miss The Chosen and writing those guys out, and I also want so much to re-work my old writings on Kyre and making it the original novel series I always dreamed of. Both are full of such great characters.
So this past Friday, I went out to dinner with my family while in Tampa for my birthday. That was...a whole thing. First off, I was kind of put-off because my grandparents invited a bunch of people I don't even know; it ended up being me, my grandparents, my aunt (great, I love her), my step-dad (which was just fine. This is my step-family, by the way...that confuses people. I love my step-family so much that I never think to refer to them as such; I was as close to them growing up as any other part of my family), my step-dad's long-time girlfriend/fiance/whatever (never met her, and apparently when I went down last November and my mom was still alive, she refused to meet me, so...awesome), her daughter and her boyfriend (who are you people? why are you here?), and the Irish kid that is one of my step-dad's tennis students that is staying with the family for a few months (what now? come on). The daughter and her boyfriend said maybe all of two words to me the whole time I was there (which can be attributed to how anti-social I am as much as anything else), the Irish kid probably less. The fiance was actually very nice and pleasant to me, so there's that. My step-dad, though... Sigh. I should maybe backtrack a bit here...
My mom and dad separated back when I was 3 or 4, and my mom and Lance (my step-dad) got together almost immediately thereafter (they worked together). By the time I was 8, they got married. Growing up, I was very close to Lance, and he was a great guy. He and I took trips cross-country for his tennis business and spent tons of time together. We joked, we hung out; it was a great relationship. Right before I turned 18, he bolted for the chick he was cheating on my mom with. Now, at the time, my mom was in the early stages of what would end up being her all-encompassing pain pill abuse and alcoholism, but it seemed like we had a great family, so I never noticed it. I was PO'ed at Lance for leaving her and never telling me what was going on and just leaving without a word, so I disavowed him. Over the last ten years, I've spoken to him probably fewer than 10 times, and only through great encouragement of my grandmother. Knowing what I know now...I picked the wrong side in that war. My mom was the cunt who didn't care about anything but herself, and Lance was smart to get out. I wish I had known what was going on, so I could have left, too, but...not so much, and after he left, I had to struggle through years of repeated moving and violence and theft. Last November, I went to Florida to see my family, and I tried to reconnect with Lance. We spoke a handful of times in the past year, especially after my mom died when he finally told me a lot of what was going on inside our not-as-peaceful middle class home. Which was good: I enjoyed talking to him and having the chance to get him back in my life. Even my dad was happy that it was happening.
But this week, after I'd been happy to see him again...he was just kind of a jerk. I was getting really annoyed with him at dinner. I mean, he wasn't being mean or anything, he just kept asking me about work and what I want to be doing and where I want to be going, which--while an acceptable topic of conversation--is not something I like discussing (as per my entry fairly recently about Thanksgiving). That's not his fault for asking about that, but it was putting me on edge. Then, however, he saw I don't drink (our restaurant couldn't fulfill our reservation, so they offered free drinks, and I said I don't), and he just kept getting on me about how if I don't drink and I don't go out partying, I'd never meet a girl; how will I ever meet a girl if I don't go out socializing at clubs? Just...on-and-on. It felt like I was back in high school and one of my friends was like "YOU DON'T DRINK OMG WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" And Lance obviously knows what I went through with my mom, he should accept that I, of all people, do not drink. Why would I? But I dunno...he was being nice, it was just really annoying me, like I am supposed to be living out who he thinks I should be after he ran out on me ten years ago, or that my morality is not good enough for the way I live, or that if I don't have a girlfriend, I am somehow less valuable. I've played the girlfriend game this whole decade except for the last year; girls are twats. All they care about is money and jobs and fucking other guys. Even the very best relationships I've had were full of my being lied to or told that my best wasn't good enough for them or being told all of my shortcomings. I'm very happy not being in relationship, and if I have to turn into some frat boy bar guy to get one...fuck it even more. So don't judge me, step-dad. But I'm probably overreacting, so I do feel really guilty about it. He was really pleasant except for the continued insistence about my needing to go out drinking to pick up some useless commodity I don't even want.
This is all turning out so much more venomous that I intended. I let my venom at the female gender that I'd been burying for a while encroach in at the end there, and Lance was very nice and generous the rest of the night. I think I'll call him tomorrow and say thank you for the birthday card and money and the time. I need to stop being so cynical; I'm sure he didn't invite his family to meet me so I could feel excluded; he invited them so I could feel INCLUDED. I just...hate having my not-drinking lifestyle viewed as an oddity, and I don't want to be told how much I need a girl when I really am coming to despise pretty much the gender as a whole for the way they have perpetually treated me (super magic fun fact: Rob's friends list is made up virtually entirely of girls. THIS ENTRY BODES POORLY).
This entry is not humorous. It's not emo, but it's not funny. We need to liven it up.
WHAT DO YOU TELL A GIRL WITH TWO BLACK EYES? NOTHING! YOU ALREADY TOLD HER TWICE!
LITTLE JOHNNY WALKS INTO SCHOOL AND TELLS HIS CLASS "MY BROTHER WAS IN A REALLY BA ACCIDENT! HE GOT THE GEARSHIFT STUCK UP HIS ASS, AND THEY HAD TO OPERATE ON HIS ASS!" THE TEACHER IS TAKEN ABACK AND SAYS "JOHNNY! DON'T SAY THAT WORD! SAY 'RECTUM'!" JOHNNY SAYS "WRECKED HIM? DAMN NEAR KILLED HIM!"
It's super happy fun time comedy hour at LJ. Woo woo.