I'm a Glutton for Punishment, I Am

The other day I got something I had given up hope on ever receiving again: feedback on In a Cabin in the Woods! My friend iamam was finally able to make time to get my vanity project read and critiqued. The thing that interested me the most about her comments (apart from the voluminous praise she heaped upon me) was that she singled out the Nature Boy story as the weakest one. Why is that interesting? Because now, all five stories in In a Cabin have been singled out by one person or another as the "weakest" one. That just fascinates me, especially since just about every story has also been singled out as at least one person's favorite. What's the lesson here? Probably that deciding to interconnect stories of different genres and styles, attempting to make them a cohesive whole might not be the best way to introduce characters and concepts.

Anyway, getting the email from iamam has made me think about returning to In a Cabin; I think enough time has gone by for me to be able to return to it and recognize more of its flaws than when everything was still fresh. Although, taking into consideration the varied reactions to it, I have to wonder if I might not just be better off severing the different story threads from each other and expanding each into its own, standalone work. Of course, doing that would require much more writing than I've felt up to doing recently; the one good thing about the first pass at Cabin was the self-imposed deadline kept me focused.

So, here's a chance for more feedback from the loyal blog monkeys who actually read In a Cabin; if you would take a few minutes and fill out this survey it would be very helpful to me. Plus, it's totally anonymous, so those of you who want to crush my soul but not have to deal with the repurcusions, rejoice! The survey will only be active for a month, so those of you who have suddenly been jolted into remembering that yes, you did receive a copy and yes, you did plan to read it, better get hopping.

Critical Thinking

While a part of me feels strange talking about In a Cabin in the Woods so much, this blog is supposed to be a record of the rambling thought that go through my head, and as those who've been in close contact with me for the last couple of months can tell you, while working on Cabin there wasn't room for much of anything else in there. So, it shouldn't come as much of a surprise that, while not always at the forefront of my brain now, it still occupies much of my idle thoughts.

When it comes to writing, I think I'm very much in the Stephen King school; by that I mean that the way I write the stories is very much like how he's described his own writing process, wherein the characters sort of take over and lead him down paths he had never expected. I definitely am not comparing myself to him in terms of my writing skill or ability to write a suitably chilling horror story, as Flunky will be glad to tell you.

Oh, did I forget to mention that I got feedback from Flunky? Yup, we chatted online the other night; he was very forthright in listing all of the many, many flaws he saw in the piece. As for the positives, he was very complimentary of the bits of poetry I came up with and . . . well, that's about it. Oh, wait, he also said he was in awe of how much I wrote. So, to recap: I’m a wordy bastage who should stick to poetry.

Remind me again why I wanted feedback?


Okay, before we go any further, let me preface it with this: are there any words scarier to the potential recipient of criticism than "let me preface it with this?" Yes, the preface statement is generally of a positive note, but it's also usually an "okay, here's a little bit of nicety up front that you can look back on fondly while I rip the heart and soul out of your work" sort of thing. Well-intentioned, but occasionally nerve-wracking. I mention this because so far two of my reviewers have started thusly; I felt like I was on the Superman ride at Six Flags, the sinking feeling hit my stomach so hard. If you'll notice, I kind of subverted the standard use of the preface statement above; I'm a rebel, I am!

It took me a few days to decide whether I wanted to talk about my chat with Flunky: on the one hand, it pretty much consumed my thoughts for the next day or so, which makes it prime blogging material. On the other hand, I was afraid that my talking about it might come across as (a) Flunky bashing (b) passive aggression (c) fishing for compliments (d) all of the above (e) insert own negative connotation here. But the gripping hand is, it was either indulge in some cathartic blogging or drown in my own cycle of composition. So, after taking a couple of days to gather my thoughts, here we are.

One thing I want to stress here, if just because experience has taught that people tend to read the worst intentions in my work (which I suppose shows what they think of me, but that's a paranoia to be chased some other time), and I really don't want this to be one of those times, so, please, bear this in mind: the purpose of this post it to explore my reaction to criticism in general, using my discussion with Flunky as an example; this is in no way, shape, or form a condemnation of Flunky or his critical appraisal of my work.

Now that that's out of the way, on to the evisceration of my pride and joy!

All kidding aside, Flunky's critique of Cabin was exactly what I was wanting: an honest reaction, pointing out what he saw as the problem spots. Flunky basically said "these are the problems/questions I had as the reader": example A was clunky, example B was confusing, example C was annoying, example D used "dirt" instead of "soil*," etc., etc. I can't say that I agreed with all of his points, but I was able to see where he was coming from on most of them. Would I have been happier if the positives outweighed the negatives? Well, of course, I'm not that big of a masochist. But, better truthful criticism than phony praise; or, so I keep trying to convince myself . . .

Although he had something critical to say about every story save one (which I suspect just slipped his mind), the bulk of the problems he addressed centered around one story in particular; for now I'll leave it to those who've read Cabin to guess which story holds this honor. To be honest, the singling out of one story didn't surprise me: it was the story which I had previously described as the one I was the least happy with. It also (not coincidentally, I'm sure) was the first story I finished. I was never fully satisfied with it, but I was so fixated on getting the other stories written by my deadline that I never found the time/energy to do much editing or revision. I had convinced myself that it was fine as is; I now know better.

Since the critique was done through IM, I had a chance to respond to his comments as they came along; that's an awkward situation in and of itself. I had to make some sort of response, lest he start to think that I was ticked off and sulking, so I found myself overloading my responses with emoticons to make sure they didn't come across as a kind of "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!" style reply; the perils of online communication and its lack of verbal and physical cues. I read each reply three or four times before hitting "send," analyzing it to an insane degree; was I being too defensive? Too flippant? Too touchy? Too too? Yes, the neurosis was in full swing. The advantage of the conversational format was that I was able to prod for clarification on some points; of course, the downside is that there were a couple of conversational deviations that detoured us from the matter at hand, a problem that wouldn't have occurred with an emailed review.

Some of Flunky's criticisms were accompanied by suggestions for ways to "fix" the problems; I don't think there was a single one that made me go "yes, that's the answer, well done, my friend, well done!" In fact, most of them provoked more of a "no, that would never work, never, do you hear me?!?!" reaction. Not because the ideas were bad, per se, but because they didn't gel with my (for lack of a better (and less pompous) word) "vision." Not to mention my tendency towards "sorry, if it's not my idea, I can't use it" behavior; call it pride, call it stubbornness, call it fierce independence, call it borderline OCD, stick a feather in its hat and call it macaroni; I'm sure there's bits of truth in each of them. Well, except that macaroni bit. Flunky would say "You could do this," and I would callously brush off his well-intentioned advice with a high-handed "But that doesn't feel right," only to follow it up with a "But what does feel right is this" response. So, while his suggestions themselves may not have taken root, they did spur my thoughts in other directions.

Following the demolishing of my ego, I jokingly told Flunky I was going to go and cry myself to sleep; his response was “Don’t you do that every night?” Touché, my friend, touché. And while I wasn’t quite an emotional wreck, I have to admit that the whole process left me . . . I don’t want to say “upset,” which carries a connotation of anger which doesn’t fit. Depressed? Out of sorts? Beside myself? Something along those lines; as welcome as the criticism was in terms of self-improvement, there’s just something about having one’s shortcomings enumerated that takes the wind out of one’s sails. Unpleasant as it is, it’s a necessary evil: without constructive critiques, I would never have an opportunity to truly improve my writing.

I haven't been able to work up the nerve to give Cabin a good once-over after talking with Flunky, but I fully plan on it; right now I'm regretting sending Cabin out to as many people as I have in its less-than-perfect condition. Of course, if I waited for perfection, nobody would ever get a chance to read it. Although, that would mean that nobody would ever critique it either . . . hmm, maybe I'm on to something here . . .

Oh, who am I trying to kid? We all know that I’m too big of an attention whore to keep from shoving my stuff in people’s faces.

*Trust me, if you know Flunky well, the dirt/soil thing is hilarious; I only wish I'd done it on purpose. I prefer my Flunky-baiting to be done intentionally.

Return of the Rambling, or " . . . and Knowing Is Half the Battle"

While I am not yet ready to make it available to anyone and everyone who could stumble across the blog, I have slowly started to distribute TOFKAP to various friends and family members; primarily those who (a) are the most likely to read that sort of genre anyway or (b) have been the most interested in/pestered me the most about TOFKAP. Oh, and for those of you wondering, the title of TOFKAP is In a Cabin in the Woods, which I will probably refer to as Cabin from here on out rather than TOFKAP. Until, y'know, I get struck by the urge to call it something else. Anyway, the whole process has been an interesting one on several levels, but now as I wait to hear feedback from the latest round of readers, I find myself pondering my reasons for writing in the first place.


First of all, I write primarily for myself; I also write because I have no choice. Ideas pop into my head and refuse to fully disperse until I see them through to their inevitable conclusion. Sometimes they can get submerged for a time, but they always come bobbing back up to the surface. Take for example the second and fourth stories in Cabin: some of the characters in them have been living in my head since I was in elementary school; the basic plot of the second story has remained mainly unchanged since Junior High; the first written draft was attempted on my ride back from a leadership conference in Breckenridge, CO my Senior year; the next draft was started about 8 years later, while I was waiting to do my interview for my first job at UNT; and now, it's finally complete. Sort of. But, more on that some other time. The important thing here is that most of this was just stuff that I did to entertain myself, composing it all in my head but rarely taking the time and energy to put it into print. Which, in retrospect, is a good thing; when I think back to the early "drafts" of these stories, I cringe.

So, yes, I write primarily for myself; and yet, at the same time, I almost always feel compelled to share my writing with others. Why is that? Is it a desire to entertain others? A search for validation? A masochistic streak? I can't say with any certainty, but I do know that for some reason, my compositions don't feel "real" to me until they've been shared with somebody else. This goes for anything I write, from fiction to movie/TV reviews to cathartic unloading of psychological baggage. Until I get confirmation that it's been experienced by another person, it's not truly complete. That's one of the reasons I started the blog, so I could have an easy venue for distributing my ramblings, one which, ideally, would encourage others to engage in some sort of give and take.

Now we get into the tricky part of the relationship between reader/writer; the giving and receiving of feedback. You have no idea how gratifying it was to find out that people were actually reading the blog; you see, no matter how much my writings amuse and entertain me, I have a hard time convincing myself that they'll do the same for others. So, to find out that others were not only reading my ramblings, but enjoying them, was surprising and fulfilling at the same time. Of course, knowing that it was a bit of a success just ramped up my fear of eventual failure since I now had a standard to maintain, but hey, if I didn't have something to obsess over I wouldn't be worthy of the name Cap'n Neurotic, now would I? Still, when it comes to blog-feedback, I tend not to obsess as much as I might on other things; I know Dr. G'ovich isn't a huge fan of my TV Tuesday posts, but I also know there are at least three regular readers who are, so it balances out. I do worry that the sporadic quality of my posting during the last couple of months due to distraction with Cabin might have alienated some of the blog monkeys, but really, there was nothing I could do about that; practically every waking moment not spent at work or church was consumed with working through the ins and outs of my experiment in writing. It was a strange feeling; after such a long time of writing primarily for myself, I found myself in a situation where I was also writing for others on a daily basis; but then I was suddenly thrust back into writing primarily for myself again, and the writing for others suffered for it. It shouldn't have bothered me so much; I doubt there's a single regular blog monkey who isn't a personal friend, co-worker, or family member, and I'm not getting any recompense for this outside of the warm fuzzies generated by knowing I'm providing a small bit of entertainment (or at the very least mild distraction) to others. But I felt like I'd entered into some sort of social contract, and by skimping on the blogging I was breaking that contract and letting people down. Yes, I have issues.

Back to the matter which got this rambling started: In a Cabin in the Woods. As you now know, it started out as a surprise Christmas gift for Flunky, which is one of the reasons I was so secretive about it on the blog. But as Cap'ns Cluck and Disaster can tell you, I was also secretive about it in real life as well. Why? Hard to say; I think in the beginning it was a fear that I wouldn't be able to pull it off like I wanted, that it would be derailed by writer's block or burnout or lack of talent or something else; by not disclosing the exact details I was protecting myself from dashing other's expectations. There was also a bit of "what if they think it sounds like a stupid idea?" working there. Honestly, for that first week or two, I wasn't sure if I was ever going to share the full details of what I was doing with more than a handful of people. But, as I dove into it more, and became more convinced that this was something that I was going to be able to pull off with some level of success, I started to broaden the circle of who knew about it. There was little rhyme or reason to why I shared with some people and not with others; I was working totally on gut instinct there. That was when I recruited my dad and Fellow Book Monkey and Blogger Bubblegum Tate into being test-readers; Wrath teh Berzerkr later volunteered himself as the third after I asked for his opinion on some of the names and terms I made up for the final story. Of course, my dad was the only one who read the whole thing and gave me much in the way of feedback before I sent Cabin to Clan Flunky.

From the instant I sent off the first portion of the first draft to anyone, I was on pins and needles waiting for feedback; it’s one thing to put up some random bit of rambling on the blog each day, but to try to create a world out of whole cloth, complete with fully realized characters and a plot that isn't filled with logical inconsistencies and holes you can drive a Mack truck through, well, that's a horse of a different color. That nervousness has doubled and trebled with each copy I've sent out; I both crave and dread feedback. What sort of response will constitute a happy ending for me? Will I be satisfied as long as the positive reactions outnumber the negative, even if only by one? Or will I let even a single negative reaction harsh my buzz? Should I give more weight to certain opinions over others? How should I take a complaint held by one person if nobody else echoes it? Most importantly, in the end, which is more important: satisfying myself, or satisfying the reader?

So far, I've received substantial feedback from three people, all positive, for the most part. I mean, I can't really complain about someone saying that they read all 117 pages in one night because it was such a compelling read, can I? Another of the reviewers was very straightforward about what she thought did and didn't work, which I appreciated; most of the cons she pointed out were things which had concerned me as I was writing, with maybe one point of criticism taking me by surprise. Still, at this point I think having three people who've enjoyed it overall counts as a moral victory of sorts. Of course, it’s easy to say that when I haven’t received any overwhelmingly negative feedback . . .

I realize that Cabin isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea, one of the pitfalls of a portmanteau* piece partaking of different styles and genres. After reading one story (which is very much of the horror genre), my mom proclaimed that she knew she should have made me read more Hardy Boys when I was younger instead of Stephen King. In a similar vein, Flunky Lover told me that she wasn't as thrilled with the horror-tinged stories as she was the others, since that's not something she typically enjoys. I think that's one of the things that's going to interest me the most; finding out which stories were enjoyed by which readers, and why.

I've been asked by a few people about what sort of feedback I'm looking for, to which I have replied, "I dunno." Before sending it off to Flunky I was mainly concerned with whether it all made sense to anyone besides myself; after Dad finished it all and said it made sense to him, that took care of that. So, what sort of feedback should you give me? Whatever you want to tell me, as long as it's truthful; not looking for false praise here. Just want to say you liked it? Fine. Want to shower me with praises? Double fine. Want to tell me that you didn't care for it, and here's exactly where I went wrong? I'm bracing myself even as we speak; honestly, as long as it's a bit more substantial than just saying "This stinks!” I'm game. Don’t want to say anything at all? That’s your prerogative; I really only want to hear back from you if you feel compelled to share. Okay, that's a lie: I always want to hear back from anyone who reads anything write (compulsive need for validation, don’tcha know), but if you don't want to, I promise I won't hold it against you. Much. As for how to share your thoughts, feel free to email, IM, phone, and/or ambush me face-to-face; I’ll strive to take both praise and criticism graciously.

Now, if you’re one of those who has not been selected to receive a copy of Cabin, but would like to subject yourself to a series of horror, SF, and fantasy stories penned by yours truly, then please, feel free to pester me, and I’ll see about maybe hooking you up.

All right, that went on a lot longer than I had planned, and veered into directions I hadn’t anticipated; Cap’n Rambling is back!



*portmanteau: term used to describe a work consisting of several shorter stories with a common linking device which often serves as a final full story in its own right; popular format for horror films, particularly the Amicus films of the 70s; Stephen King’s Creepshow, Creepshow 2 and Cat’s Eye are some more recent examples. Now you know . . .

And Lo, There Shall Come an Unveiling

Last night I got an email confirming that The Obsession Formerly Known as Primary (or TOFKAP, if you will) has, indeed, been delivered to its target; his wife intercepted the email, had it printed and bound, and put it with the presents to be opened on Christmas morning. They're both currently in the process of reading it, and so, optimist that I am, I'm currently bracing myself for the "Dude, seriously, all that fuss over this?" feedback. I'm still not quite ready to post it all online for the whole world to see, but soon, very soon.

Until then, read the Forward and finally learn the truth behind TOFKAP.


The Title Is Flunkrow’s; the Concept Is Mine: A Forward

For quite some time my best friend has had in mind what he thinks would be an excellent title for a book . . . The only problem is that he has no idea what the story should be about; whether it should be Sci Fi or Fantasy, Horror or Romance, he hasn't a clue.

So began an essay I wrote my Sophomore year of college entitled Of Prisms and Plotlines, where I used my best friend Flunky’s plot-less title as a springboard for ruminations on my plot-less life. This essay was one of my favorite pieces of writing from that time period, and I go back and re-read it periodically; every time I do, I see that opening paragraph and think “Man, I really need to write that Cabin in the Woods thing.”

You see, when Flunky first told me of his title idea, I, being the sort of person I am (i.e. a total geek), immediately struck upon the brilliant idea of writing a short story with the title and giving it to him as a surprise. The biggest stumbling block was that I was as lost when it came to finding a suitable plot as Flunky was. So the idea soon fell off my mental radar, only to pop up now and again as I periodically reviewed my old writings.

Fast-forward about 10 years, to November of 2005. One evening Flunky and I were chatting on IM, a conversation about my blog leading into one of his periodic “when are you going to get off your ass and start writing for a living” questions, which lead into a discussion of fiction in general. He outlined an idea he had for a fantasy series, ending with the comment, “Not much to go on, but I expect a novel on my desk in two weeks. Now get on it.” After my sardonic response of “Yes, oh great and powerful leader,” he added “Don't forget the title should be In a Cabin In The Woods.” I assured him that that title had been burned into my memory long ago. Our conversation then ranged onto other things, and the reminder of his plot-less title would fade into the background of my mind for a few more days, before boiling back up to the surface with a vengeance that weekend.

There I was that lazy Saturday morning, lying in bed, mind in that weird half-asleep/half-awake state where random thoughts flourish; I had been thinking about doing a blog-post about a college experience at a friend’s cabin, and I realized I could entitle the post “In a Cabin in the Woods.” Pleased by the idea, my mind kept working: instead of a post about the incident, why not fictionalize it, and that way I’d finally have that short story? “But wait,” another part of my mind cried out, “what about the Elemental characters? They’re kind of inspired by Flunky and the others, wouldn’t that be more fitting?” And then a third part spoke up “Hey, I thought we always agreed it would be a horror story?” And then a fourth part spoke up. And a fifth. And with that magic number 5 (Flunky’s lucky number, and a story in and of itself), I knew with a flash of blinding insight (that quickly turned into a burning obsession) what I had to do: write five different short stories, each a different genre, each set in a cabin in the woods, and send them to him for Christmas, which was a little over a month away.

Amazing what odd things pop into your head when you’re barely awake, huh?

And yet, even after I was fully awake the idea would not let go of me, and I knew that I had to see it through. So now here we are, a little over a month and around 65,000 words later: what started out as an idea for a kind-of cool (in a geeky sort of way) gift for my best friend became a chance for me to do something I’d never done before: follow an idea for a writing project all the way through to its conclusion. It’s completely different from what I originally envisioned, which is both good and bad, depending on your point of view. It’s also much, much, much longer than I had imagined: trust me, writing a 100 page manifesto was not the original plan.

So, there you go, Flunky, I finally got off my ass and wrote something, and I even used your title. Now, get off my back.

Oh, and thanks for the push: I needed it.

All Shall Be Revealed . . . Just Not Yet

Well, due to a combination of factors, the Primary Obsession has been sent to its intended target with feedeback from only the "pretty honest" source incorporated; I wish I had a bit more time to tinker with it, but I was coming up on (a) my self-imposed deadline (b) the target's no-internet status for the next several days, and (c) my complete inability to keep this a secret any longer.

Honestly, all of this doublespeak and side-stepping has worn me out; I'm no good at the sneaky stuff.

That being said . . . the rest of you blog monkeys are going to have to wait until I get confirmation that the intended target has (at the least) received the Primary Obsession. Just wouldn't be fair for you all to get the details before he does.

Plus, I'm a sadistic little monkey.

But soon, my blog monkeys . . . soon.

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The Primary Obsession is inching closer to completion, as I've finally gotten in good enough shape to shop it out to three critical eyes, of varying levels of bias: I have a feeling I can count on one to be pretty honest, one to be tactfully honest, and one to be brutally honest. Now, while I'm waiting for their feedback, I can focus on other things; I'm hoping to get a lot of reading done over the Christmas break, although with a lonely 5 1/2 hour car ride tomorrow morning there's a good chance that I'll be gripped with an idea for a new obsession at some point; if you're lucky blog monkeys, it might even be CoIM related.

It Be Officially Official

Yesterday was my official graduation date, so I can now officially say I officially have an official Masters of Library Science. Officially.

So, how did I spend my official graduation day? Well, since the Singles event I had been planning on attending got cancelled, I was going to spend it proof-reading the last part of my Primary Obsession, but as I tried, I realized that I was still too close to it: everytime I'd think about changing something, my brain would scream "No, leave it alone, it's pristine, it's perfect, don't touch a thing!" Which was odd, because another part of my brain was cringing in pain at the clunky wording, two-dimensional characters, and choppy pacing. As my brain threatened to split itself down the middle due to this cognitive dissonance, I decided it might be better to just take a day or two off, and come back to it with a fresher pair of eyes later. This makes meeting my self-imposed deadline kind of difficult, but I would much rather be a little late and have a product I can be happy with, than on-time with something that I know could be so much better. Faced with my inability to effectively edit, and lacking the mental fortitude to sit down and read anything (or write a blog post for that matter), I instead spent the evening watching DVDs. Hard to believe, I know.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must now ransack my apartment in search of something to give as a White Elephant gift at the Singles Xmas party in an hour.

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The initial draft of the Primary Obsession is finally done. Now, all that remains is the proof-reading, and lots and lots and lots of polishing and re-writing. I'm not sure if I'll have it all done by the self-imposed deadline, but if not, it will be close enough for me. As enlightening and instructive as the Primary Obsession has been, believe me, I'm more than ready to spend some time with some of the Secondary and even Tertiary Obsessions; you would not believe the stack of TPBs I have waiting for me, not to mention novels.

But, those will have to wait just a tad longer; I still have some editing to do.

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I have been chastised by Zinger for, and I quote, "Really phoning in the blog these past few days." To which, I can offer no excuse other than the one you should already be expecting: the New Obsession.

I guess the New Obsession isn't really all that New anymore, but not sure what else to call it; my Secret Obsession might do, although that sounds like it might be a little naughty and/or dirty. Calling it my Deadline Approaching Obsession, while truthful, is a bit cumbersome. How about my Top Obsession? Primary Obsession? One Obsession to Rule Them All? Actually, I kind of like Primary Obsession, so we'll go with that for now.

What's the status of my Primary Obsession, which is still mostly secret until it’s completed, and maybe even for a while after that? Well, I would say I'm about 85.33% complete with the initial phase, give or take a few percentage points. The P.O. has waxed and waned as my brain has drained and recharged its creative capacity again and again. I'm hopeful that I can get the initial phase finished by the end of the weekend, which should give me plenty of time for revision before the probably-not-so-mysterious-if-you-think-about-it deadline.

The process of working on the P.O. has been an interesting one, on several levels, and I'll talk more about that once the whole thing is over and done with. But one thing that I will mention today is how surprisingly helpful the cassette recorder has been. Honestly, I'm almost sorry that I don't have a huge drive to make anytime soon, since I seem to do some of my best work on the P.O. when I'm on the road. Well, maybe not necessarily my best work, but I do get a lot accomplished. Now if I could just get the hang of transcribing from tape down . . .

One thing that's surprised me about using the tape recorder is how well it has spurred ideas. If I'm sitting at the computer, or sprawled out on my beanbag with my notebook, and find that I've hit a creative dead end, it might take me hours to fight my way through it, staring at the blank screen or paper. But, if I'm driving along, talking to the recorder, taking my mind off the tedium of driving, then I start to brainstorm like crazy. These sessions usually sound like this: "I'm not quite sure how I want to handle A. Do I want A to do B, or do I want A to do C? No, I don't like C, but maybe A could do D? Oh, yeah, and if D, then E, F, G, and H!" Most of my big breakthroughs on the P.O. have come about in this way; the tape recorder now accompanies me everywhere, and I've gotten a few strange looks from the folks at the fast food drive through windows over the last couple of weeks, but I don't really care, since these little jaunts have given me my fair share of ideas. Not nearly as much as the drive to and from Miamuh, or even the drive to and from the Stoneheart residence last weekend, but enough to make it worth my while.

All in all, I'm happy with the way the P.O. is turning out; it's definitely a far different beast now than it was when I was first stricken with my obsessive inspiration last month; whether anyone else will be happy with the finished product, I haven't a clue. With any luck, it won't be too much longer until I find out.

And thus concludes my second “phoning it in” post of the day; hope you enjoyed it.

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Well, I made it back to town in one piece, despite the Oklahoma winds doing their best to knock me hither and yon. While on the drive, I tested out the cassette recorder, filling up almost a tape and a half with ideas for my New Obsession, and then transcribing them once I got home. How did it all pan out? Here's the good, the bad, and the ugly of it.

The Good: I made a heck of a lot of progress today. Some of it might have lasted in my brain long enough for me to get down on paper once I got home, but as I listened to the tapes I came across tons of stuff that would have been lost forever otherwise.

The Bad: Transcribing from tapes is not the ideal way to write. First of all, I'm not used to taking dictation, which is most definitely a skill you have to develop; it's probably a lot easier if you can just put yourself into a zone where you're just letting your fingers type whatever you hear without thinking about it, but that's pretty hard to do when it's your words and you feel compelled to rewrite yourself as you go. Subsequently, about a 75-80 minute recording took me nearly three times as long to transcribe.

The Ugly: The typos. The many many typos. Early on I was just trying to keep up with the tape, not wanting to stop it too often, but I quickly decided that it was going to take me just as long to go back and fix all of the typos my speedy talking was causing as it would to stop and go. And then there was the stutering, and mumbling, and occasionaly "Er, um, uh, yeah" type pauses peppered throughout the tape. The early sections were the worst, when I was just trying to do a stream of consciousness style composition, but I eventually decided to get what I wanted to say pretty firm in my head first, and then turn the recorder on.

All in all, I have to say the recorder experiment was a success; yes, it can be a bit of a pain to deal with, especially until I work out the kinks, but I think it's going to be a useful addition to my writer's aresenal. Plus, it's not like I'll be making 5 1/2 hour road-trips all that often.

As for the New Obsession, well, I'm much farther along in the process than I thought I would be at this point; the odds of finishing it up by my self-imposed deadline are vastly improved *knock on wood*

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You know what the biggest problem with New Obsessions is? How they affect the Old Obsessions.

I feel like I've been letting the blog monkeys down this past week or so, what with the skimpiness of postings and all. But it's not just CoIM that's suffering; even though I've had several days off to do nothing but read, blog, and/or watch TV and DVDs, I've done very little of any of them; all have fallen to the wayside, victims of neglect.

I did take a bit of a break on the New Obsession today; needed a bit of a brain break. Got a couple of movies watched, got caught up on a little TV, and finished up all of the TPBs I had checked out from the library, so I might have a little bit to blog about over the next few days. Although, odds are good that after my mini-break the New Obsession will take over again tomorrow, strong as ever. That seems to be its pattern.

On the positive side of things, my dad dug out his old mini-cassette recorder for me, so I should be able to dictate ideas on my drive home tomorrow morning; if I had had it on the drive up, I would be much further along on my obsession than I am; spent way too much time trying to remember everything I had come up with on the long, lonely drive.

So, there you have it, my "Gee, I need to post something today, what should it be?" post. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and make up some more anecdotes . . .

How Do They Do It?

How do fantasy and sci-fi writers come up with alien languages and names? Do they actually build up a lexicon of grammatical rules and structures a la Tolkien or that guy who created Klingon? Or do they just throw a bunch of random syllables together till they come up with something that sounds passable? "Let's see, jo'druba? No, how about zi'wrikbor? No, that's no good. Ooo, I know: ta'veren! That one's a keeper!" Inquiring minds want to know!

And no, this has nothing to do with my New Obsession.

Nothing at all.

Um, forget I said anything.

*whistles innocently and backs out of the room*

My New Obsession

Well, my blog monkeys, I have some news of sorts: I have a new obsession. It came upon me in a burst of inspiration last night, and now it is consuming my thoughts; consequently, there might be a slight drop-off in the breadth and depth of blog posts for the foreseeable future. There shall still be postings each day, but the new obsession will probably help me keep to the "pacing myself" plan I had a couple of weeks ago. Of course, it all depends on just how long it takes for this new obsession to burn itself out, or how long before my blog muses reassert control. Either way, this obsession sort of have a built in time limit of a month or so; if I haven't accomplished what I want with it by the end of the year, it won't be an issue any more. Oh, and if you think I'm being secretive about what the obsession is, there's a reason for that: it's a secret.