Epic metal shall lead the way to noveling victory.

Quote of the Day - Part Two:

Guard: Where'd you get the coconuts?
Arthur: We found them.
Guard: Found them? In Mercia?! The coconut's tropical!
Arthur: What do you mean?
Guard: Well, Mercia's a temperate zone!
Arthur: The swallow may fly south with the sun, and the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land.
Guard: ... Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?

-"Monty Python and the Holy Grail"

I had a first year n00b to nanowrimo challenge me to a word off.

It is so on.

=P

Observation of the Day:

Waking someone with the same attitude as Paul Revere informing the Americans of the British coming will insure they are there promptly, however it does nothing to assure they are dressed or prepared for it.

Trying to get a vastly important task done by insisting on doing it in the cheapest and most 'cost effective' way will insure the task is never complete and if it is done it will be done in such a manner that renders it pointless and moot.

Making something both idiot and dog proof are quite similar in that they are the exact same procedure; it should also be noted that it requires the subtle touch of a woman for success at the proofing. For illustration points or lack thereof see: Crusades, the Dark Age, Both World Wars and parliamentary procedure.

Here you go Dr.Cole! Your answer!

It took cleaning the outside of a pool and zero sleep and caffeine!
But I defined Greek comedy!

Greek tragedy = ending, death, funeral, death of the old way
Greek comedy = new beginning, wedding, new birth, renewal

I'm a silly, silly, silly person who has messed up.
Thanks for grace God.
Thanks for providing a Muse.
Just help her on the way home...so you know...she doesn't trip over the piles of letters I wrote and all the crappy art I blamed her for.


Is there a Muse apology course I can sign up for at art school?

Eddie Izzard on the History of Religion

Something tells me I should not trust Facebook's horoscope application after it informed me of this little nugget of information:

"Your health is improving!"

-_-

Riight.

My body must have missed that memo.

Forever would never be long enough.

Some Items of Note:

I.http://blog.nanowrimo.org/
-The topmost blog is by the guy who did nano radio before it went away. He offers some GOOD freaking advice for first time writers.

Also...his idea of having my characters meet other characters from someone else's story is a freaking AWESOME idea...that sadly won't exactly happen. =/

II. Week one, day one pep talk: http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/node/3363177
-I never get any of these things in my email but they are good.

III. I honest to God have no idea when I actually last slept longer than a few minutes. It is weird and not something I would actually suggest.

IV. If I hear another human being remind me that I *HAVE* to get a job I am going to need someone to restrain me from setting the world on fire with the sheer amount of profane language that will be coming from my mouth.

V. I went to church yesterday and God I missed being around other people who are willing to admit to being religious hypocrites. It also made me miss leading worship with my best friend like crazy...and preaching and actually being useful...

VI. I've been playing Final Fantasy VI and I forgot it is such an amazing game with such a mature story and a well crafted love story.

VII.I have spent the last three hours listening to the 'Best of Electric Light Orchestra' and my life is all the better for it.

VIII. I'm still incredibly depressed over missing the Atlanta pride festival and the chance to do ministry there. I had a gay friend who was sweet enough to send me a news link that mentioned xxxchurch being at the event.

IX.I forgot how much fun it is to use Roman Numerals in making points.

X.I'm writing a somewhat traditional fantasy novel and it scares me, a lot. I swore to never write pure fantasy and it is scaring me. I have plans to incorporate it into the my novel series...but bleh I don't know. I spent hours the other night putting names together by cobbling together English, French, Cornish, Latin and Tolkien Elvish for good measure.

XI. I want to cry. I'm not sure why but I just feel the need to.

XII. I am drinking tea at this early of an hour to try and stay awake to focus.

XIII.If you are still reading this you need a life just as bad as I do. If you find a spare one please shoot it several times and mail it to me so that I might understand this concept better.

XIV. I don't know if I'm doing the numbers right anymore so I'm quitting to make more emails, write more and weep like a frightened little elven girl.

"Ticket to the Moon" - Electric Light Orchestra

I look out my window at the full moon and think that we could very well be looking at the same moon at the same time. Distance and circumstances dividing us as time passes us by.

It's worth a soft sigh and a curious wondering of the reasons as to why...but questions are murmured as the moon sinks on by past the horizon and I'm left here pondering with no answers.

Quote of the Day:

"Preach the Gospel always, and if necessary, use words."
-Saint Francis of Assisi

WTF! HOW HAS A NANOWRIMO BUDDY OF MINE ALREADY HIT 6K WORDS?!?!

Hopeful sentiments however I find them doubtful.

I speak from a condition of little experience...just that of one who is blinded by my sentimental thoughts and emotional overloads...

...but I've long learned to stop making absolute judgment calls because of Jesus' need to show off.

"My Throat is an Open Grave" - Demon Hunter

"This isn't me I used to say.
All the love was so gone.
It feels good to be alive.
I've been dead for so long.
Wake up screaming, I'm awake and dreaming,
and I won't stop breathing until my heart stops beating.
This isn't me, i used to say.
all the love was so gone, It feels good to be alive,
I've been dead for so long."

Antsy, Angry oh What a Day...

Unless a person's heart is numb or dead I think the natural human reaction to sin is anger.

Of course you have to define sin and God being the clever omnipotent being that He is went ahead and sort of didn't break it down in the Bible. After you read it a half dozen or so times you start to get the distinct impression about what sin is:

1.Hurting God.
2.Hurting yourself.
3.Hurting others.

I see the lines in the sand, I see the blood that is crying up from the ground. Speaking in harsh tongues that only God and I understand. It is crying out in protest, in shame, in hate, in anger...crying out against me.

I'm so sick...so sick of everything I've done for me.
Acting so stupid, moving out of turn and trying to...
I just can't find the words to form them because I have hidden them so well.

I wanted...wanted...and needed...needed...
And I got all the lies I asked for.
Gift wrapped and expressed shipped here to me, from you babe.
Everything I ever wanted, everything I ever needed.
And God it makes me so sick.
I want to throw up just to get it out of my body.
I want to bleed out this poison so I can breath again.
Rip open my heart, show you my soul
and make you see me as me.
Not the pretend image you like to dance to.
I want the world to see the real me
and everything I'm not,
just so maybe for once God can shine through.
I'm just living death
crashing through windows
colliding and breaking
and hurting the innocent
just because I am.
Nothing more and nothing less
because I'm everything that I am not
and here I am
just begging,
wanting, needing, praying
just to be freed.

I sought the dream
and laid weeping at my disgrace.
I fought the night
and was broken on my own power.

Every lie I've made,
every last insincerity
I choke on and die
as I lay here hoping for something more.

I can't give anything more than me,
this poorest of poor offerings
because of the misuse and brokenness.
I want to see with these eyes again.
I want to scream your prasies with this voice.
Every wasted minute I want back
as I need You nearby.

I can't stand the corruption inside me,
this beloved cancer I cradel
and make love to
just to push You further from my soul.

Why can't every last block be removed?
How long must I wait for my Love to rescue me?
To save me from this trap of my own doing?
I was caught by my cleverness
and here I lay dying
hoping and praying for something more.

I can wait here crying
feeling the cold hand of dying
or dare to move
and die along the way.

Every breath is bringing me closer
to the climax,
this last moment of life
where my soul shall leave this destroyed shell
and the freedom of Love
and eternity shall wrap His hands around me
and never again,
never will I cry
never will I waste monuments in desecrated silence to you
as I lay here infested with the hate.

No more.
Not again.
Never will this sin resume.
Only love will exist.
Perfect Love to wipe my tears away
as I cling to You
and feel what it is I've sought for my life,
when I find everything I have wanted
in this one moment of freedom.

I'm about to hit to hit thirteen thousand views on this blog...you people are crazy for coming here that much...you know that?

There are actual talented writers you can stalk...or you know...you can go outside and play or something.

But...thanks. =)

Quote of the Day:

"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."
-Douglas Adams

Blergh...sick...stomach...pain...oh geez...

Come on now...

God I cut that so close to the line...and I still don't know what I'm writing about. -_-

NANOWRIMO 2009

Fall is in full bloom.

The weather is getting colder, leaves are changing color and what little sunlight I see is decreased even more dramatically.

For some people that means it is game season, a lot of people go to stadiums and yell at these people dressed up weird colored shirts and helmets as people get upset and throw stuff at their tv's. As hard as I've tried I simply do not understand what is so exciting about watching people play when I can do something.

For me, that something is the season of novel writing.

A sacred time of thirty days in which the skies part and the impossible becomes possible. Rules are broken, time is bent, large quantities of caffeine is consumed and stories are written during this month.

National Novel Writing Month (http://www.nanowrimo.org/) is the eleventh annual world wide insane competition that has the goal of writing a fifty thousand word first draft novel in the thirty days of November.

This is an absolutely insane idea that deserves large quantities of criticism and disbelieving looks. It is a ridiculous concept that works however. This will be my third year participating and to be honest I nearly gave up and decided to not write.

The past several years have been absolutely insane and this year has been one medical and social drama after another...and the past week has been especially difficult. Just like every person who never succeed I have every reason to not try...I'm poor, broke, jobless, sick, tired, sleepless, contradictory, confusing, sometimes heretical, oftentimes confused and...so on and so forth.

I can't speak for anyone else...but I know people have their little lifelines that they turn to so that they stay sane. For me writing and music are divine activities that keep me from going completely off the deep end...I don't know how or why...but I have this deep spiritual connection in being able to write to really loud music...I find this almost zen like place where I can shove all of this world's crap away and almost begin to see not just me...but the way in which the world was meant to be.

I can't find the exact quote but Stephen King in one of his novel introductions (one of the Dark Tower books I believe) mentions how writers are inherently selfish creatures that write for one of two reasons:

1.For others.
2.For themselves.

In a lot of ways I feel I fall into the second...that would explain my extreme abuse of the pronouns "I" and "me". I love it so much when I have someone send me a message saying a poem, story or essay I wrote touched someone's life...it made them think deeper or even just made them really angry with me and they wanted to tell me why I'm going to Hell for being a heretic. I mean, some sort of response and commentary is nice...but at the end of the day if I was just locked into a dark room with a word processor and a mixed tape of Daft Punk and The Clash I would write until I passed out.

I'm a selfish being who is still trying to figure out who he is and where I am in this absolutely insane world...part of that process is in writing. Writing itself is an amalgamation of every experince a person has that gets turned into something else. No book you have ever read has simply been churned out in draft...it's an incredibly painful process of rewriting and revising which can last for years...and all of it is in pursuit of some idea of identity.

One of my favorite quotes from the film adaptation of 'V for Vendetta' is that "...artists use lies to tell the truth, while politicians use them to cover the truth up."

Although a story has a lot of influence from the writer's own life (see anything written by Franz Kafka or Elie Wiesel if you want a good example of how horror can come from the soul) oftentimes the revising process takes out the fluff and adds in story.

So I could say no to writing...could crawl back into my shell and hurt...or face these demons and laugh at them. Like Martin Luther said "The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn."

I am still not sure of myself, where I'm going or if I am going to get there...I just know that there comes a time to draw a line in the sand and push back. This may be a struggle that goes on in my mind and soul...but it is a battle all the same. Maybe it is overly dramatic...but those who have dealt with chronic illnesses know what I'm talking about.

Life isn't always the happiest place to be...and the more you learn the easier it is to become bitter and cynical...but there comes a point to where you just have to let go and be yourself. There is no sense to hold onto false images of yourself because if you aren't going to make the effort to take care of yourself...no one will.

So in a way NANOWRIMO is therapy...just like writing poetry, essays and blogging at 3AM. Just like playing the bass, listening to ska and dancing across my room while my cat looks on in fascinated horror.

I have two novels from NANOWRIMO which are in various stages of rewrite. They form the basis from some rather grand attempt of mine to start a series about the end of the world and a group of heroes royally screwing things up so bad that the world gets taken over. I'm not sure what will become of that series.

In fact I'm still not sure of what I'll be writing about come midnight tonight.

I have several different ideas for stories...but still no real solid idea.

Some possible things I may explore:

-Romantic comedy of some sort.
-A musician (bass player of course) finally making it in a band.
-A guy so immersed in the world of an online RPG his life takes on a surreal quality where the lines between reality and fiction blur so totally that he isn't able to distinguish between reality and the role play relationships in a game.
-The sequel to that previous idea that a friend jokingly said she would write and my sequel would involve the two in a relationship and trying to make things world while a zombie uprising happens.
-A third book in my as of not yet series,
-A sort of play on the sniper character from the game 'Borderlands' I've been playing recently with my best friend James.
-A surreal first person story about a guy who wakes up in his apartment and is unable to escape (think Silent Hill like psychological horror).
-All of the ideas mixed together with an extra helping of George A. Romero zombies sprinkled in.

Goodness...I don't know.
Time is ticking away and the word count is looming in the distance as I stare it down and I am readying my sources of caffeine and my determination to win this.

As a last note I want to thank my brave friends who have decided to embark on this crazy venture with me...it's always nice to have people along when you are busy loosing your mind!

Onward to noveling victory my friends!

I never knew I could be so pissed off at myself for doing the right thing.
I...God just help me to get my head on straight.

Remind me why I'm alive.

I can pray...I can stay at a distance and separate myself so I'm not destroyed by my wayward heart.

I don't have to be subjected to every whim, every struggle and allow it to cause my heart so much pain. I'm here to serve but allowing myself to be destroyed serves no one and is a disservice to You...myself and those I'm here to help.

I just...have such a struggle with trying to do the right thing...for the right reasons...I don't suppose any of us ever come to You for the right reason, right Lord?

I just...I struggle...I need to communicate in my mind...but it's none of my concern...what happens will happen without me around. Life existed before and after me...I'm living and dying apart from billions of people...the few I come across are just fleeting moments that will be gone just as soon. It hurts but that is reality...that is everything...here...gone...forever...

It hurts...but I can...I have to survive.

I'm so...so tired of hurting.
Can't we just get along now?
Without the pain?

The only thing worse than the pain is the feelings of...
Locationless, meaningless and drifting apart as it were.

Do you see it?
Do you really see?
Can you feel?
Really feel this coming?

It's not like I ever really believed,
believed in you
or trusted what could be real
or self assured in the night.

Everything is just drifting
and fading
and ripping apart.
Soon, so soon
I can be free.

"The more you take the less you feel
The less you know the more you believe
The more you have, the more it takes today"