What Comes Around, Goes Around, I'll Tell You Why
Dang-nation, that meme from last summer is coming back around and before I could duck, Bubs lowered the bridge. So I have to find seven things about this old Procrastinator that you never knew before.
1) I go through bouts of laziness, followed by bouts of productiveness. One obviously influences the other and combined. These bouts are a hamster wheel that I need to get off of. Jane, stop this crazy thing!
2) Despite being an aspiring writer, I am constantly at a loss of words, for some of the most basic things. I would chalk this up to different parts of the brain and my tendency to be introverted. Which leads me to...
3) ...I can't talk on the phone anymore. I am too used to using email and the phone is now, just plain awkward for me.
4) Only about five people at work know that I write and only one of them has read anything that I've done this year. I'll put it to you another way.
"a" equals the propensity in my company for people to gossip.
"b" equals the propensity for people to get things twisted.
a + b = One huge conflagration of a clusterf**k.
To speak of one of my most polite reservations (out of many) I have for revealing my work to others, is the fact that my writing is separate from who I am as a person. If I write about outer space, that doesn't mean that I am from outer space, capisce? You certainly can make that distinction if you are still her, though I doubt that certain others can.
5) For someone who appreciates delicate and flavorful cuisines, I rarely reveal my love of German food. There's nothing subtle about it and it rarely compliments any wine. Well, I rarely drink wine and I love meat and potatoes...more importantly, I love German food. Um, except sauerbraten, which I just barely tolerate.
6) I'll bet I brought number three up before and I'll tell you why. I have a tendency to go to the same thought or sentiment well, one time too many. I often don't notice until about a second, until an hour after I click "send" or "publish post." I rarely make such mistakes during conversation, because I rarely talk.
7) I'm not the greatest speller and The Lord and Beth know how bad my grammar is, but I never seen so much illiteracy as I have with sports message boards. At the very least, the message boards should provide some kind of spell check, because what I have had to witness, just burns my eyes.
You'll have to look for yourselves for examples, I don't want you to blame me for your temporary blindness.
Now comes the tagging part and I'm going where you've rarely gone before:
Is That So Wrong
Princess Ladybug
Rick Crowley
Nicole, because this is the only to lure her over here.
Eric
and even though she's already been tagged, Becky, because I'm tagging her the rest of her life.
1) I go through bouts of laziness, followed by bouts of productiveness. One obviously influences the other and combined. These bouts are a hamster wheel that I need to get off of. Jane, stop this crazy thing!
2) Despite being an aspiring writer, I am constantly at a loss of words, for some of the most basic things. I would chalk this up to different parts of the brain and my tendency to be introverted. Which leads me to...
3) ...I can't talk on the phone anymore. I am too used to using email and the phone is now, just plain awkward for me.
4) Only about five people at work know that I write and only one of them has read anything that I've done this year. I'll put it to you another way.
"a" equals the propensity in my company for people to gossip.
"b" equals the propensity for people to get things twisted.
a + b = One huge conflagration of a clusterf**k.
To speak of one of my most polite reservations (out of many) I have for revealing my work to others, is the fact that my writing is separate from who I am as a person. If I write about outer space, that doesn't mean that I am from outer space, capisce? You certainly can make that distinction if you are still her, though I doubt that certain others can.
5) For someone who appreciates delicate and flavorful cuisines, I rarely reveal my love of German food. There's nothing subtle about it and it rarely compliments any wine. Well, I rarely drink wine and I love meat and potatoes...more importantly, I love German food. Um, except sauerbraten, which I just barely tolerate.
6) I'll bet I brought number three up before and I'll tell you why. I have a tendency to go to the same thought or sentiment well, one time too many. I often don't notice until about a second, until an hour after I click "send" or "publish post." I rarely make such mistakes during conversation, because I rarely talk.
7) I'm not the greatest speller and The Lord and Beth know how bad my grammar is, but I never seen so much illiteracy as I have with sports message boards. At the very least, the message boards should provide some kind of spell check, because what I have had to witness, just burns my eyes.
You'll have to look for yourselves for examples, I don't want you to blame me for your temporary blindness.
Now comes the tagging part and I'm going where you've rarely gone before:
Is That So Wrong
Princess Ladybug
Rick Crowley
Nicole, because this is the only to lure her over here.
Eric
and even though she's already been tagged, Becky, because I'm tagging her the rest of her life.
posted by Writeprocrastinator at 5:31 PM
20 Comments:
Damn you.
"To speak of one of my most polite reservations (out of many) I have for revealing my work to others, is the fact that my writing is separate from who I am as a person."
Man, I hate letting most people read my stuff. I get comments like - I can't believe that came out of you. It seems like I’m the normal guy they always comment on the news before he killed his neighborhood.
My horror is horror at the harshest I can write it. I never write slasher crap and women are not my victims. Okay, men and kids fall like dominos because I think I’m similar to Del Toro in that sense. However, there are times that things come out that I have to say “oh my” over. That is when I like the writing the most when I surprise myself. Heck, you should surprise yourself no matter what the genre. I still laugh when I read the blind girl’s school scene from my Earl script.
Hell, I wish I was more open with myself to dig deeper when I write. Maybe I could pull out the nasty shit like Warren Ellis.
JDC
I'm write with you on #1 and # 5. I've unfortunately been on the unproductive side of the spectrum for the past 2 months, but I sense I'm getting some energy back. I'm trying to be more aware of what causes the two extremes, and hopefully use that knowledge to be more consistent getting all the little things done more effectively.
Oh, I'll try and shout a warning next time before lowering the boom on you. Thanks for being a good sport.
German food is good, when it's good. When it's bad, it's perhaps the worst cuisine I've had. The best German food I've ever had was in Welfare, Texas, at a place called the Welfare Cafe. That's also the first place I ever had Spaten Optimator beer.
I love your top 7 cormacisms.
my favorite part was sharing your writing with a handful of folks at work and why you don't.
ah, always something new to learn.
I know exactly what you mean about the phone. I've become so awkward and am way more comfortable emailing, texting and IM'ng.
Writers don't need to be grammar or spelling experts; that's why the Lord created nerds like me.
I believe the equation of #1 + #2 = one helluva entertaining procrastinator.
Eric,
Odd isn't it, how memes stir these sentiments within people, eh? ; )
Johnny Dollars,
BTW, I didn't tag you because I wanted Katie to and now that I have your attention, I want updates on the fellowships and contests.
Horror deals with nightmares and also forces people to look things within themselves that they might not necessarily want to look at. I certain realize why you take offense at them projecting you into that, yet some of that is them projecting themselves and getting angry at you for it.
Both of your screenplays surprised the hell out of me and that's why I think Hollywood needs you. That "Cavemen" show, for example? I was thinking that if they hired you to punch up the lulls, they would have a certifiable hit.
I don't know Warren Ellis at all and even after I Wiki'd him, I still don't recognize his work (I know, I'm a heathen!).
Bubs,
I think you were putting that energy into the Marathon and honestly, that kind of thing leaves room for little else. You can tag me any time, I just wasn't mentally ready for it.
"That's also the first place I ever had Spaten Optimator beer."
Wow, great German food in Texas??? That really must mean something when you are in the cradle of great German food in America (Illinois-Wisconsin)! I have never had that Spaten, as I usually stick to their pilsner. But, hey, they've been doing beer for over half a millennium now, so I don't think they could go wrong.
Katie-lah,
Thanks. I'll email you about them one day, nothing that I want to put up here that I want to get sued over, down the line.
Don't I always seem more spontaneous with email?
Beth,
Ah, you say that now. Yet, if you were to read my unedited work? I have a feeling that the red pen would either run out of ink or you would be coming after me with it.
"I believe the equation of #1 + #2 = one helluva entertaining procrastinator."
Why, thank you.
WP, there's a part of the hill country in Texas, just west/southwest of Austin and west/northwest of San Antonio, that was settled by Germans. Towns like Fredericksburg and Boerne. Go figure. It's wild going in some diner and seeing country fried steak and biscuits and gravy, etc, on the menu along with German items.
BTW, the Optimator caused us to coin a new phrase: "Getting Optimated". It's a dark beer, almost a double bock, with a 7.2% alcohol content.
Here's something people don't know about me: I'm quite violent, when pushed.
waldude! i love #4!!!
http://www.warrenellis.com/index.php
Ellis has written some incredible stuff. "Fuck Pig" is one of my favorite short stories. Amazing Stuff.
-------------------------
btw - he is a very weird music video for you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R-V846_Mm8
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I Had To Kill The Pig
I had to kill the pig.
It was a GM Vietnamese potbellied pig that some freak had meatfitted with a voicebox and the frontal lobe of a grown-up crack baby.
It scuttled across the carpet on fat little legs, firing hideous acidic turds out of its fortified arse like it was Satan's vending machine. I loaded the harpoon gun I'd borrowed from Sunil. There are a few parts of the world where you can legally hunt humans who have gone aquatic, and Sunil owed sexual favours to all of them. The pig turned, rasping "Fuckpig! Fuckpig! Fuckpig!" I'd not yet worked out whether he was talking to me or telling me his name, but it seemed to be the only word he knew. I'd been listening to it for two weeks. Two. Weeks.
The harpoon locked down into the receiver chamber, and the air compressor hissed, charging the gun.
I hefted the gun and took aim as the bastard dropped another shit on the carpet, burning another hole in it. "This is it, you disgusting fucking object. Melissa left me with a disease so unusual and horrible it does not have a name, a weird Japanese doll that sucks out its own urine, and you. I've had my urethra irradiated, I listened to the doll scream as I shoved it into a wood chipper, and now there's only you left. The pet pig."
"Fuckpig!"
The compressor stopped hissing. The gun's chip crooned to me, for no good reason, in the synthesised voice of Peter O'Toole: "You may kill things now, young man." I threw the receiver lock to open the barrel and fired at the pig's smoking anus.
Of course I bloody missed.
The pig hurled itself to one side like it was an action movie hero, rolling and coming up poised and ready on its foul black trotters. The harpoon thudded into one of my speakers. I fumbled another one into the chamber and slammed down the receiver lock, hoping there was enough push left in the compressor for another shot at the little crapmachine. I waved the harpoon gun at it. You couldn't see its eyes; they were dark wet slits surrounded by great folds and swells of warty pigflab. But you knew it was scheming. I edged between it and the clear run through my long thin apartment to the front door. I had it pinned here in the back bedroom. Nowhere to run.
It feinted to my left like Ali, with a rasped "Fuckpig!" I pretended to follow the feint, and then snapped the gun back as it launched itself for the opening it expected between my right and the doorjamb.
It realised I had it and pissed itself in mid-air, an evil green sprinkler. Twisted its immense gut around to carom off the wall. I kept a bead on it as it bounced off my bed - realised too late that it was aimed for the window.
Fuckpig! and it hurled itself through the window. I ran to the sill, trying to keep my hands away from all the broken glass. The pig had launched itself with some force, I gave it that. There was a chance it could reach the shopfront awning on the other side of my narrow market street. The odds were better that it'd miss and splatter. But I don't like gambling, really, and this was a personal thing.
I put a harpoon through the bastard pig from arsehole to breakfast-time, skewering it in mid-air.
It dropped down into the market, landing on a fruit stand. Its guts let go and the awful flow dissolved all the apples. There was a storm of swearing in Croatian, and then the retching started.
And, you know, this is as good as the next month or so got.
© Warren Ellis 2003
Bubs,
We had several Germans settle here, but their food traditions somehow died off. One of the two original restaurants left is amazingly average and that one is worse than my favorite (it closed around 2000) and an actualy German told me that that particular restaurant was amazingly average.
"BTW, the Optimator caused us to coin a new phrase: "Getting Optimated". It's a dark beer, almost a double bock, with a 7.2% alcohol content."
As a co-worker of mine once said, "the only things that Germans have ever gotten right is: guns, women and beer."
I've never made German gun money, though all the police and gun nuts I know swear by them. The women are okay, I'm more partial to Irish, Brit, and Italian women, but I know that they do know beer.
Becky,
There's nothing you can say, to kill my crush on you.
Angel,
Isn't this just the most warm and fuzzy blog that you've ever read?
Johnny Dollars,
That was surreal...
...I think I like it. As a matter of fact, it's so different, I think I love it.
"That was surreal...
...I think I like it. As a matter of fact, it's so different, I think I love it."
I know. I feel the same about a lot of his work. Amazingly weird, yet multi-layered and shallow at the same time. Just weird.
I'll be on 6 Sentence 11/08
Out of ten queries I have one LA agent ask for the Office script to read.
The fellowships are kaput this year - no yea to team me.
On the other hand, the next deadline for Astonishing Adventures! magazine is speeding up on us. There are some spiffy interviews and stories coming.
JDC
Hmm, I have a feeling that telling you I have a violent streak has made your crush grow stronger. ;)
Blast these cursed memes! Bear with me, I will get to it.
Does German potato salad count as German food?
Johnny Dollars,
"I know. I feel the same about a lot of his work. Amazingly weird, yet multi-layered and shallow at the same time. Just weird."
Exactly.
"I'll be on 6 Sentence 11/08"
I'm due in early November, too. The fellowships don't know what they are missing, though interest from an agent will change all of that. I'm looking forward to AAM #2 and I'm trying to get it together to get a submission together.
Becky,
"Hmm, I have a feeling that telling you I have a violent streak has made your crush grow stronger. ;)"
No, there's no craving for Korean Bagel Lady dynamics here. Face it, I will crush on you with my procrastinator love...
...when I get around to it. Um...and that's not me in that car that has been parked across the street from your apartment, all day.
ITSW,
I'm looking forward to it and yes, German potato salad counts.
Jeez, thanks for turning me on to Warren Ellis! Oh, the horror! Whatever small chance there was that I might get off the computer and get my pigsty of a house cleaned has now acheived astronomical odds.
BTW, I think that particular pig is the main ingredient in "sauerbraten."
Madam Z,
No one who has a computer, regular Internet access and a blog, has a neat home.
Some of the sauerbraten that I have had, tasted like something was definitely mutant about it.
Beckeye is violent; I've seen her road rage in action.
German food is strange; sometimes good, sometimes .... strange.
They closed the best German restaurant in the country (IMHO) - The Berghoff in Chicago, which has been open since the 1880s I think. Awesome place. A bunch of old men waiters who never wrote anything down.
One time I road tripped through North Dakota (partly because I can, and partly because I discovered it was the least visited of the 50 states and I figured it needed my attention. Combined with the fact that I actually lived in two different states bordering ND and had never gone there, which just seemed wrong.) Anyway, I stayed for a night in Wishek, a little town originally settled by German immigrants. The little diners all have very German things on their menus like "Fleishenkukla" or something like that. Fun.
Coaster,
"Beckeye is violent; I've seen her road rage in action."
A woman after my own heart.
"German food is strange; sometimes good, sometimes .... strange."
Absolutely, though for some strange reason, now The Doors are stuck in my head.
"A bunch of old men waiters who never wrote anything down."
That's when you know you're in a real restaurant, or in the presence of excellent waitstaff.
I can't believe that you went to North Dakota, that's far from the norm, that it is cool. Doesn't "fleish," mean "flesh," in German? The Fleishkuekle sounds delicious, if people are willing to tread through snow and sleet for them.
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