Month: April 2014

Fifth person, same conversation

I am on this train for a grand total of twenty minutes. I could tell you this woman’s life story.

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If you think I’m staring at you, it’s probably because I am

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Therapy day.

I always come out of the psychologists with a wide eyed look. Talking about the human condition, and more specifically my condition, always makes me stare at people afterwards. I incessantly wonder what they are thinking or where they are going. Are they happy, sad or worried? Are they contemplating deep thoughts or wasting their time in celebrity worship? What is their deal?

I do this because, I think, that after a therapy session I’m more interested in humans. More interested in what they have to say or think, and more interested in where they think they are heading in life.

We spoke a lot about other people today. I explained that I feel like the vast majority of people are ignorant and selfish. For example, this stupid cunt sat next to me on the train has had the same three conversations with three different people in her contact list at roughly the volume of a zeppelin crashing into another zeppelin and both zeppelins are made of PURE FUCKING NOISE. She does not give a shit about the other people around her. She doesn’t care how loud or rude she’s being. She doesn’t even give it a second thought. She is an ignorant person. 

But who’s the bad guy here? Is it her for being the way she is or is it me for not accepting that sometimes, people are ignorant and it’s not really that big a deal?

I have already come to the conclusion that this human must be a bad person. I have interpolated a whole personality for this individual based on one (actually three) transgressions. That’s probably a bad thing to do.

But what if I’m right? What if the way this person is acting now is indicative of how they act all the time? Then they should be labeled, categorised and filed away under ‘cunt’ in my mental filing cabinet.

I see things way too black and white. I’m trying to change this. That’s why I stare at people more than I used to. I’m trying to figure you out and in the process figure myself out.

She’s on the fourth conversation now. I am looming forward to getting off this train -_-

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On Writing

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I love Stephen King so I stole one of the titles from one of his non-fiction books for this post. He’s my favourite author and The Dark Tower series of books are the best fantasy/sci-fi/western/mindfuck books you will ever read. Seriously if you have not read King’s opus then you really should. The first book in the series is called The Gunslinger, go get it now! The book I stole the title for this post from is a work discussing the craft of writing. It’s also the closest thing you’ll ever get to a Stephen King autobiography and is very interesting, so you should read it. Anyway moving on, this is a post about writing.

I am not a writer. I used to enjoy writing stories and making stupid comics when I was very young but as soon as I got access to computers any creative part of me died and I became a computer nerd instead. Also, whilst I have a decent command of the English language I am rather ignorant of the proper ‘rules’ you are supposed to follow when writing a novel. I’m not an idiot, I understand the rules of grammar mostly, but I’ve always felt like I didn’t know enough about the syntax of language to make a worthwhile story that would captivate readers. So it’s with some embarrassment that I sometimes tell people that I’ve been trying to write a novel for some time now.

I’ve had a story in my head for quite some time. It’s got the basic elements realised i.e. I know what the main plot line is and where it takes place, as well as the overall theme. However it’s languishing in a notepad file and I haven’t really thought about it for some time until recently.

It’s a semi-autobiographical horror story, set in a somewhat fictionalised version of the town in which I currently reside. I have had the idea for a while but only started actually putting pen to paper back in November when a friend and I both took part in National Novel Writing Month. For those who aren’t aware NaNoWriMo runs every year, and is supposed to encourage budding writers to produce a novel (well more like a novella, 50,000 words) inside of one month by setting daily targets. I started out pretty well but gave up around the 12,000 word mark.

See the thing is, I hate targets. Having a daily word target shoved in my face every time I logged in to my NaNoWriMo dashboard really pissed me off. I gave up partly because meeting targets when doing something for pleasure or because you want to is completely counter intuitive in my opinion and partly because depression sucks your ambition out your ass through a straw. But lately I’ve been thinking about my book and thinking that I want to get back to it. I keep having ideas that I think would work well with the story and my therapist has set me tasks as part of my cognitive behavioural therapy, tasks that involve thinking about the novel.

I might decide to put what I have so far up on here so other people can read it and pass judgement. Like I said I’m not a writer and my writing style is unconventional and probably leaves a lot to be desired (my wife HATES it) so nobody should expect anything great. My biggest gripe is that I just don’t think I am good enough to produce anything of worth. Being a non-creative person who doesn’t really understand ‘how to write’ is constantly playing on my mind.

Conversely though I sometimes think, “So fucking what?”. There are plenty of examples from history where unconventional writers have gained mainstream success. The Beat Generation in the 50’s spawned some fantastic authors who definitely wouldn’t have their books on sale at airport kiosks. Try reading The Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs to get an idea of what I mean, the non-chronological structure and obvious drug induced ramblings make it a difficult but worthwhile book to get through. I’m not comparing myself to Burroughs at all, but it gives me hope that there is a place in the world for those who don’t just write cookie cutter style stories that obey strict and rigid grammatical rules. That’s why I like King so much, because he plays with language (seemingly effortlessly) and breaks ‘rules’ all the time.

So tonight I’m going to try and write a few chapters. I’ll have to read through what I’ve got so far to refresh my memory, in the process I MAY upload it here, who knows.

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