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American Gods

“Gods die. And when they truly die they are unmourned and unremembered. Ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed in the end.” -Neil Gaiman, American Gods.

How the hell have I not read this book before? Seriously. This stuff is fantastic, even for Gaiman. Neverwhere is next on the list, probably quickly followed by Anansi Boys. I first discovered him a few years ago, when I read the first volume of his reboot of the Sandman comics. Ever since, I’ve been hooked on his writing style, but I’ve never had a chance to dig into one of his novels until this morning. Thank God for days off, huh?

As far as recent events, interviews! That’s right. For the first time in about 5 months, I’ve got job interviews again. I got a phone call on Friday asking me to interview for a position in a call center with a local bank. As I was getting dressed for said interview, I received another phone call asking me if I was still interested in a part-time position with the public library. I couldn’t believe it! Since I’ve been working at my current job, I’ve been hunting around off and on for a 2nd job or something full time. Now within a span of three days I’ve gotten an offer for one of each. In addition, I’ve been asked to do some freelance editing work for a former coworker and possibly for one additional contact I made recently. It’s been an incredible weekend. Add to that the time I got to spend with my girlfriend over Valentine’s Day, and you can guess that my mood is better than it’s been in weeks. It’s been a damn good couple of days.

This weekend did have some sad notes to it. On Friday night, my friends and I said goodbye to the D&D characters we’ve been playing almost exclusively for the last two years. Mine, the half-orc barbarian, Ryuk (yes, named for that Ryuk), survived the great battle with Ruin, allowing the spirit of Preservation to live on. After the battle, he flew off into the sunset, as it were, leaving his friends behind, avoiding what would clearly have been a pretty emotional moment as they mourned the irreversible death of their long-time companion, Vatre Dahn. It was a truly epic ending to a great campaign. All good things, and whatnot. After D&D, we all made our way to Village Inn at 2 AM for some early morning food and reminiscing over the last two years. I’m looking forward to the next campaign. I get to play a warforged barbarian (What can I say? Barbarians are fun to play). He’s basically a robot with a giant hammer who hits things really hard. 😀

I’ve had a couple of really good days of writing. I’m making even more progress on the story right now. I have pretty much fleshed out the circumstances under which most of the other characters first meet Rime and Arsus. The question still remains as to how those two first encounter one another, but I’ve made a major decision regarding the narrator, as I said last time. This in and of itself allows me a lot of room to determine how characters meet, but lets me have an idea of the voice that will be telling the story, what he will know, and what he will be able to reveal at any given time. It’s a good step forward.

Pilgrimage vs. Quest

What’s the difference between a pilgrimage and a quest? A pilgrimage is a journey to a holy place. A quest is a search. As I plan more of this story out, I’m beginning to think that it is a little bit of both.

I’ve been delving into the depths of my mind, and coming up with more characters. These men and women will be part of the initial caravan across the Sand Sea from Dhe’skuva to Dhe’laza. As I reflect more on it, I like the idea of Arsus and Rime traveling as part of a very large group at first. This merry band of pilgrims will quickly prove overwhelming for both of them, and they will set out on their own, only to be followed by a handful of other characters who will join them on their journey the remainder of the way across the desert. I’ve actually come up with the name (again, tentatively speaking) of one of the other characters. A female city guard from Dhe’skuva by the name of Landara. She will join the pilgrimage ostensibly to flee some gambling debts in the city. Along with her will be a character partially inspired by the legendary Harry Bailey, from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and partially inspired by a good friend of mine. If there’s going to be a pilgrimage, there needs to be a fat, borderline alcoholic innkeeper who goes along for shits and giggles. Also, his inn may or may not be destroyed in some of the chaos that will inevitably ensue before our heroes set out for the desert. So what has he got to lose? Rounding out the main cast will be another female character. If Landara is the strong, independent woman, there needs to be an initially more timid female character who learns from her, and eventually finds her own courage. She’ll have her own reasons for joining the pilgrimage as well, but I won’t go into those here tonight. Let it suffice to say that her growth as a character will potentially rival that of Arsus and Rime.

I think I’ve got the opening lines worked out now, too. The biggest difficulty I faced here was deciding which character in the story (if any that the reader sees) would be the narrator. I’ve not come up with a name for him yet, but I think he’ll provide a pretty unique perspective on things going on throughout the novel.

On an unrelated note, Randall Munroe is a genius. An evil genius, but a genius nonetheless.

As most of my readership is already aware, the literary world was struck by tragedy last week, when British author Brian Jacques passed away. Jacques was best known for creating the bestselling young adult Redwall series, though he also wrote several collections of short stories that took place in a more modern Britain. Jacques will be greatly missed. I consider myself quite lucky to have had the honor of meeting Mr. Jacques when I was in the 5th grade. I feel as though a large part of my childhood is now missing. Jacques wrote an incredible world. I am quite happy to have been able to spend as much time in Mossflower as I have. Quite frankly, I plan to share these books with my own children some day, perhaps as a stepping stone between the Chronicles of Narnia and the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Rest in peace, Brian. You will be greatly missed.

Steampunk

Does having airships in a story automatically categorize it as steampunk?

I hope not. I’ve got nothing against steampunk. Personally, I think it’s an awesome genre. I love the idea of smashing Victorian style together with crazy levels of steam-powered technology. However, I think it’s a little bit too anachronistic for the setting I’m creating. I may pull bits and pieces of things from some of the steampunk-y world, though. I dunno. Something about goggles and sundials and compasses really appeals to me. Plus, as I mentioned before, airships. “Hello, airplanes? This is blimps. You win.”

 

 

Rambling

I’ve got a sickly green concoction in a glass in front of me. It’s mostly Mountain Dew Voltage. The rest is Kahlua.

I hate writing things in purely digital form. They’re not real enough for me. Ideas are too easily destroyed, words too easily unsaid. We live in a temporary world. Nothing we say or do is permanent anymore. We’re not permanent anymore. Just passing through on our way to wherever the hell it is we’re going. Words on paper mean something. Legally binding, as it were. Writing a story or a poem is like signing a contract with your creative side. On paper, there’s no backspace, no delete key. Sure, you can take an eraser to pencil and white-out to pen, but you don’t see the mistakes you made anymore. You erase your past with every mis-typed word. At least with paper, there’s some sign that something WAS there, even if it’s not anymore.

Superman is suicidal, but he can’t die. Think about it. He’s massively depressed. No one understands him, since he’s the last of his race. All he wants is to end it all and be with them again, see his REAL parents one more time. But he can’t die. Some freak coincidence with our planet’s sun makes him nearly immortal. What would you do? Why do you think he hurls himself into danger time and time again? He does everything he can to try to feel pain, but he can’t even BLEED under normal circumstances. He envies Bruce because, while Bruce too suffered loss, he will eventually die. He remains mortal, and so he has no fear. Clark, on the other hand, has no idea what physical pain even feels like anymore. He antagonizes Lex Luthor because he knows that Luthor possesses ways to obtain Kryptonite, the one thing in existence that can allow Superman to be physically harmed. Clark, then, is torn between saving his new friends and finally achieving what he’s sought for so long. Eventually, he will give in, Lex will win, and he can rest.

Things that I read make me wonder what kind of person Rime should be, personality-wise. I already know a few things about him. He’s a religious man. A priest of sorts. His beliefs are constantly being challenged, and he’s forced to question the very gods that make up the pantheon of his world. When he feels that his prayers are not being answered, he decides to take matters into his own hands. This is a driving force behind the quest he sets out on early in the story. He wants to prove that his devotion has not been pointless this whole time. He’s basically shouting “I EXIST!” to the night sky. Maybe at some point he’ll do this. I need to decide how prevalent alcohol use would be in his world. If he hides his emotions most of the time, maybe Arsus will get him drunk just to get him to open up a little. This could be a great spot to build off the hot springs scene I’ve been working on. It’s going to be a great sequence in which the characters (particularly Arsus and Rime) get to know each other better. I’m still debating who else will have joined in on their little adventure. I’m thinking no more than five total. I mean, that gives me a classic Five Man Band. Now don’t expect any of our little friends to necessarily perfectly fit any of those classic tropes. I intend to subvert them where it makes sense to do so.

“The Writing Writer”

“In my presence you might wake
Through this fiction I must fake
Your death to grace the face of my character
With these lessons he might learn
That all worlds from here must burn
For as God demands in the end we miss.”

I love Coheed and Cambria. I’m greatly saddened that I’ve only listened to one of their albums, now that I realize how deep the story behind the whole discography goes.

Again, I find myself staring down a pair of days off.  It’s very strange. I have only worked one day out of the last five. I know that this is due to asking a coworker to cover a shift so that I could make it home, but still. It’s a little disconcerting to feel so thoroughly unemployed while still having a job. Today should be a day for filling out more job applications, but it’s more likely to see more creative writing than truly productive writing. That is the hope, anyway. In all honesty, I’d be quite happy if either of those plans works out.

As I (think) I have said, I recently returned home for the funeral of my great uncle. He and I shared a name, albeit spelled differently. Apparently, however, this caused no small bit of uproar in my hometown. See, I’m from a LITTLE town. Everyone knows everyone. So when a funeral notice went around town that happened to have my name on it, some people freaked out, thinking that yours truly had gone and kicked the bucket. It was an oddly funny bit of an experience to tack on to the sad circumstance of seeing family at a funeral. I can also now say that reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. 😀

Rime has haunting eyes. They shift from gray to blue to green, depending on the light and his mood. This is going to severely freak Arsus out the first time he sees it happen. They’re going to be a major part of his emotional displays. The man is dedicated to his beliefs, and when he sees something that challenges all that he holds to be good and true, his eyes are going to show the struggle going on within him. In a similar manner, when he’s asked to make a choice for the greater good, any character paying close attention will be able to see an almost wistful look in his eyes. I’m choosing the eyes because of how frequently I’m told that my eyes are incredibly expressive. Rime and I have a great deal in common. I think that this makes him the easiest and yet most difficult character to write. While I can easily write him as me, the question is how much of myself should I allow myself to write into him. Where do I need to draw the line between character and writer? Should he be the narrator? Which is a greater problem, faith without belief, or belief without faith? (Thank you, V).

One last thing before I head off to writing for today. One of my good friends is a musician, putting together a bunch of house/trance music. You can check out his soundcloud page and listen to all of his current tracks here.

 

“I’ve Got a Bulletproof Heart”

I’m writing this in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, sipping on a glass of Glen Livet at 1 AM, thinking about how much has changed since the last time I was home. In the last three weeks, my cat has died, leaving my parents’ house considerably more empty feeling. In addition to this, my bedroom no longer has a bed in it. Granted, this was the case when I was home at Christmas as well, but it’s more obvious now. My bedroom is now officially my dad’s office. It has been repainted for the first time in roughly 15 years, and the carpet that had been in here since I was an infant has been replaced by a hardwood floor. The couch I slept on last time I was home is still in here, but my dad has added a desk, file cabinets, and some more bookshelves. It doesn’t feel like home anymore. It’s a weirdly alienating feeling. I’m trying to convince myself to go to sleep, and to rest up for the big day ahead of me, but quite frankly, I’m not that convincing.

No, I’m not that convincing at all. I’ve already written in my journal for the day, and I don’t feel like reading. Even turning the light off hasn’t really done anything, other than emphasizing how cold it is in here right now. Since I can’t sleep, I should consider how cold it is in the desert at night. Yeah, during the day it is unbearably hot, but once the sun sets and the moons rise (yeah, two moons aren’t quite as iconic as the binary sunset on Tattooine, but they’re also a lot more likely to occur in a system that’s remotely capable of supporting human life), the temperature drops fast. It’s something that my characters are going to have to deal with in their crossing of the Sand Sea. Rime will be prepared. Arsus, however, will be caught quite by surprise. Lots of things will be surprises for Arsus, who has never really taken a good long look at the world until now. This is part of what lands him in the situation which will form most of the plot of the novel. Rime, entertainingly enough if that remains his name, will serve as the voice of reason. He will be an incredible foil to Arsus, and this interaction will be quite entertaining to write. Already their relationship has allowed me to write a couple of fantastic lines of dialogue that will likely make it unedited into the final draft of the book.

I think it’s high time I give credit to my many influences. It really helps to know who has helped to formulate thoughts within my head. Obviously, many of my favorite authors have contributed to my writing style and setting. Chief among these are men and women like J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Frank Herbert, Douglas Adams, Arthur C. Clarke, Brian Jacques, J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Geoffrey Chaucer, etc. Musicians have always served as motivation to write as well. My Chemical Romance released a new album not long before I began to write this. They’re always in my head. So are bands like Led Zeppelin, Rush, Styx, Muse (fuck off, Twi-tards, they were a good band long before Stephanie Meyer told you to listen to them), Lifehouse (when I’m trying to write something almost romantic), etc.

Speaking of romance, there’s still a question of how much of that will be in the book. Many of the characters will be male. That’s not to say there won’t be at least one strong female lead role to help round out the roster. It’s just that the two main characters are both male, and there may or may not be some chemistry between them as the story develops. It’s not yet clear in my own head to what extent this relationship will be taken. Arsus and Rime are already closer than anyone might suspect, but not in a way that many readers would predict. To take their link in that direction might upset some, but it might please others. I’m still not certain how I feel about it. I think that by the end of the novel, they will be willing to openly say “I love you,” but the circumstances surrounding this are still in development.

As are many secondary characters. Chaucer had LOTS of pilgrims on his journey in the Canterbury tales. I only have two protagonists at this point (really one hero and one sort of anti-hero, depending on how readers view the goals and aspirations of both Rime and Arsus, respectively). I’m working on some details regarding other people who will join them on their journey across the great desert. Some of these people may start on the journey with them but not make it all the way. Others may join partway across the burning ocean. Oooo, that could be a good description of a massive body of sand… Regardless, there will be characters of varying alignments and goals. This will add a great bit of flavor to the story, but they will, again, not be pointless. Almost nothing in this will be pointless, or so I hope. I want every major character to serve some purpose.

As some of you may or not have guessed, I’m quite fond of the new My Chemical Romance album, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys. That’s where today’s title come from. “Bulletproof Heart” is an incredible track on a phenomenal album. It’s been on my mind a lot lately. Listen to it if you haven’t yet. If you’re an MCR fan, it’s a great new direction of them. If you’re not, now’s the time to start listening.

Additionally, I’m back from my great uncle Phil’s funeral. It went well.

Research

I’m really grateful to the years I spent working in a university library. It was great experience for me on many levels. Not only do I have amazing customer service skills (hint hint, all you potential employers out there), but I also gained a great understanding of the processes necessary to conduct beneficial research. It’s really nice to know what I need to look for in order to find the information I need. I’ve actually found some great references in my old home that I can utilize for the book I’m working on.

You see, not everything in a book like this can be purely out of my own head. There needs to be some sort of effort put into it so people see realism, not pure trippy fantasy. I want people to know that the facts that are presented in this book, despite being put to use in a sci-fi/fantasy setting, are actually somewhat accurate. For example, if one of the characters has a certain condition, I want to be certain that any symptoms of said condition are within standard realms of possibility and probability. Though one of these would always come in handy. It’s a plot-contrivance machine!

As a side note here, I’d like to point out that I absolutely love the work of Douglas Adams. I don’t know where my life would be right now if I’d not stumbled upon a copy of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” in my uncle’s room. The book and its subsequent companions remain one of my top series, and are something I consistently reread, just for the outlandish humor contained within. I have every intention of keeping a towel with me all day on May 25th this year, celebrating the 10th anniversary of “Towel Day.” I can’t believe it’s already been ten years since Mr. Adams passed away. The point of this little side note, though, is to point out that my book, while being potentially at least PART satire, will not be humorous on the level of the Guide. It wasn’t conceived as comedy, and so it will not grow up to be comedy. It’s intended to be a somewhat dark and thought provoking (not pro-viking, like I nearly wrote) piece of literature that takes readers on a journey of self-discovery. It’s not the Guide. It’s not anywhere close to that, and it never will be. I would never dare to fly that close to the sun.

But as for the researching bit, it’s fun and awkward at the same time. While I can say that I’m doing research for a novel in the event that anyone asks me why I am reading articles about cancer and alcoholism and deviant behavior, I’m still not certain that I’ll get the most positive looks from people who see me reading them in public. I mean, honestly, I really don’t want to be classified as any more of a weirdo than I already am. Hence why I do most of my research online, but there is still something to be said for the sheer joy of digging through a stack of books on a rainy/cold/snowy day hunting for one elusive detail you can find in about 5 seconds on google. I miss the old ways. Call me old fashioned. I don’t care. I’ll walk the line between technology and nostalgia for the rest of my life, using netflix to stream Greer Garson movies.

Oh, joy. A car alarm at one AM. I’m so glad to know that it’s not mine.

Yes, it’s one AM here. In about 15 hours, I’m going to be getting in a car to drive home to my parents’ house. My great uncle’s funeral is Friday morning, and we’re going to be gathering to celebrate his life. Personally, I plan to toast him with a glass of 15 year old scotch. I’ll be out of internet range for a couple of days, but fear not, dear readers. I’ll return to you quickly enough. It’s not as though your lives hinge upon my next post (but if they do, please let me know, and I’ll try to write something brief to tide you over 😀 ).

 

Ugh…

Being a grown-up is far more stressful than it needs to be. Though I suppose the real lesson for today is that I still need to learn to shut up once in a while and keep my thoughts to myself. That’s what blogs are for, right? Angry rants? Hahahaha. I don’t think so. If I wanted to be an emo kid, I’d go whine on my deviantART account.

Everything that a writer experiences in his or her life is potential story material. This means that I can/should focus any negative situation into some challenge that my characters can overcome. Hopefully it will help me figure out what it is that I need to do. In today’s situation, this really means that Arsus has potentially SEVERELY alienated one of his companions. This isn’t likely to be Rime, as the two of them are going to be at each others’ throats 90% of the time. Rather, it will be one of the secondary characters, maybe even the one who dies later on. I’m not sure. Again, there’s still a lot of room to maneuver things around. Very little of this story is set in stone. Most of it’s set in a desert. 😀 Yes, lame joke, I know. I’m not really in the mood to be writing golden comedy right now. Tonight might have to involve a trip to the liquor store. We’ll see. I do have rent and bills to pay this week, and I need to watch my spending anyway, due to the fact that hours are limited at work. Though it IS almost Chinese New Year… Sake might be required. After all, it is my zodiac year.

It’s still cold as a post-Broncos-Super-Bowl-Win-hell. I like it, though. I love winter weather. Why I’m writing about something set in a desert, I have no idea. I suppose it may be because I grew up in a place that’s known for its dry weather. Northeastern Colorado can get pretty nasty in the summer heat. Hardly desert conditions, but still…

Back to the story. Arsus and Rime are crossing the desert as part of a pilgrimage, much akin to Chaucer’s cast in the Canterbury Tales. Each of the characters who chooses to join them on their journey will add a unique view of the world. They will be people of different classes and skills (and feats! No. This isn’t D&D). Each one of them will have different ideas about the characters they travel alongside. I’m not sure yet who the narrator will be. That’s something I’d like to decide on fairly quickly. I want to plan out how he or she will interact with the world, and whether or not said narrator will be reliable and trustworthy or if my readers will be questioning the sincerity of everything the narrator says. It’s all part of the journey. Everything that happens in my world will be told through one person’s perspective. Perhaps it will be someone close to Arsus, someone who has watched him for a long time. I’ve got a few possibilities of things that could work for that. Anyway, it’s time to wrap up and call it a night. Peace!

It’s Like the Sims, Only I Actually Care

That’s right, folks, it’s character building time!

Today it’s really REALLY cold outside, so I’m taking advantage of the day off and getting some more work done. I’m attempting to come up with physical descriptions of the characters I’m designing, since their personalities are pretty much already intact. It’s part of my OCD, getting all of this stuff planned out in advance of the heavy bits of writing. Knowing what a character looks like enables me to have a great mental image of them, and makes their interaction with other characters far more believable, at least to me.

Characters in this are going to be entertaining. One of them in particular is going to be fun to write. This one is Arsus. He’s got a pretty unique view on life, and his interactions with Rime, his primary traveling companion, are going to be some of the best bits of dialogue in the whole thing. You’ll understand the reason for this soon enough.

Right now, life is pretty good. I’m sitting by a fire in my girlfriend’s parents’ basement, laughing at the -20 weather outside. This blog entry has been a long time coming. I’ve been trying to get some writing done for the last few days, but it hasn’t been going so well. I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind, what with the job hunting and all. There’s also getting travel plans made for this weekend. It’s not a trip I want to have to make, but it will be good to see the family.

It’s hard to believe how much has changed in the last year. I’ve been looking back on where I was a year ago, and remembering some of my writing. A little over a year ago, I was taking a class on Poetry and Social Justice. I have no idea who started that particular one, but one of my favorite professors was involved, and it was three credits I desperately needed for graduation, so I jumped in. Eventually, I was teamed up with a couple of the other students in the class, and we started talking about social situations in town. It turned out that one of our teammates regularly visited the local “tent city” with her husband, providing food, propane, and a friendly attitude to many of the homeless people in town. It was quickly decided that part of our project for the class would involve going out to meet some of these people for ourselves, getting to see the conditions in which they lived. So one afternoon, we got ourselves geared up and went to meet some of the so-called bums that lived alongside the river.

It was eye-opening. The people I met were all willing to talk about how they had ended up in their situation. Most of them openly admitted to having made some wrong decision at some point in their lives, but they wanted a chance to prove to the city (and the world) that they could still make a contribution to society, if someone would just give them the opportunity to try again. Two of them in particular had a profound impact on me. One of them was a man who, when I told him what I was doing, offered me a sandwich from his supply tent and gave me a candle that shared sentiments about being happy despite having no “home.” I found out a couple of weeks later that this man had suffered a heart attack and passed away before he was able to get to a hospital. The other man called himself “Dog,” and provided inspiration critical to one of my favorite poems. Dog was one of the middle-aged men I met that day, and he reminded me very much of my father in his voice, actions, and general attitude towards life. I have no idea what has happened to Dog in the last year. I hope that he’s doing well. It just goes to show you that you never know where you’re going to find inspiration.

Predestined

Someone has to die.

I just don’t know who, yet, but I know that it needs to happen. There are going to be several people I could choose from. Actually, now that I think about it, there’s one that I could kill off far more easily than the others. It depends on how I end up introducing him…this could get far more interesting than I’d initially planned. At any rate, the characters need to feel the presence of death, one in particular. I know I’ve been keeping a lot of the plot under wraps, but it will suffice to say that one of the characters (I’m tentatively naming him Arsus) needs a smack in the face to remind him about what it means to be mortal. In this case, said smack will arrive in the form of a dead comrade. It won’t be anything heroic. It won’t be some noble sacrifice. It won’t even be a crowning moment of sad… “I am a leaf on the wind.” Not like that. It will just be factual. People die. Call it morbid, if you like. I call it gritty realism. It will set up for a very nice parallel later on in the story, so it’s not without purpose. It’s just that if I explain it at all (within the confines of the story, not the blog, dear reader), it loses it’s initial “WTF?!” impact.

How much of my life should I pour into my work? Rather, how much should art reflect reality? I ask myself this because many of the questions I’m going to be having characters ask will be questions that I have asked of myself and of others close to me. It’s not strange to me to have these characters be full of curiosity. I mean, part of that might be because I’m still very curious about them and their world. They’re taking me by the hand and guiding me, showing me their secrets, things they don’t even fully understand, as of yet. I like this part of the creative process. It’s a stage of growth for me, both as a writer and as a person. It’s a journey of self-discovery. I’ve said this before, but it’s something I’m realizing more and more as I’m venturing from Dhe’sku’va to Dhe’laza with Arsus and his companion, a man named Rime. These two, as my protagonists, are rapidly endearing themselves to me. I’ve only recently met them, but I know that their stories are going to be told through me. Hopefully by the time their journey is complete, the great Sand Sea will be safe to traverse for all, and the record of their story will be less confusing than this (though certainly more serious).

Some people are probably going to look at the blog and wonder why I have links EVERYWHERE. To answer the question, I will just say that it’s because I spend too much time reading posts like this. I like to share things that I find on the internet, but I’m no chain-mail spammer. I hate forwards (especially when I get the same one multiple times from people in my family), and I hate the idea of sharing useless stuff with people, but sometimes…sometimes I find something so hilarious (at least to me…) that I HAVE to share it with somebody. It’s a strange desire. There are some things that remind me of inside jokes, and so those have to be at least discussed with someone else who shared in the adventure that led to the joke that led to the laughter at the random stumbleupon discovery, like the one I had Wednesday morning. There’s also the fact that blogging software makes link embedding so ridiculously easy that I don’t even have to have brain functionality to use it. It’s fun! 😀

I’m trying to be patient. It’s been a weird couple of days. We lost my grandpa’s youngest brother, my great uncle, Wednesday evening. He was a man with whom I shared a name, and that was something that I always considered incredibly significant, despite the fact that I was not, actually, named for him. I didn’t know him as well as I would have liked, and I feel an extra tinge of guilt for having made excuses not to call him over the last week and a half. Now it’s too late, and that really hurts. I’m doing better now than I was a day ago, though. I’ve got some of the best friends in the world, and they’ve all been doing everything they can to get me back to my usual level of enthusiasm and energy.

On a positive note, my business cards should be in soon. I can’t wait. I’m tired of scribbling contact information for people on receipts and whatever else happens to be handy. No more, sir. From now on, it’s going to be recycled paper (because I love the environment, despite my 30 mile-per-day commute in my 29 year-old car) with a logo of my own design (because I’m creative!) and a quote from William Butler Yeats. “Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear.”