I love to write. It’s so fun. Creating a story, whole worlds sometimes out of nowhere, just using words. Lines and squiggly things — letters — put together to make words. It’s kind of amazing… and weird. And ridiculous.

And often really hard.

Hm… I hate to write sometimes. When I’m racking my brain to come up with a plot or just something interesting to say. Writing is all well and good, but you have to write something worth reading, right? But lots of people have different ideas as to what is worth reading. Heck, I don’t even know why I read what I read sometimes. I guess if it’s something that someone is willing to stare at until all the words run out, then it was worth writing, right?

Do I have something to say? Well, yeah… I mean, maybe not always some amazing truth or some passionate cause or occurrence that I feel really needs to be expressed, that might really resonate with a reader or whatever. But just thinking something is funny or wacky or might make someone laugh, maybe brighten their day — that is worth it, too, right?

Of course, after writing one has to get the story in front of the eyes that will be doing the reading. The internet, blogs like this one and whatnot, has made that much easier. Still not effortless, though. I used to think that being published in print was the end goal. If I write something that some company is willing to put on paper and bind together and make into a book — boom. Success! I’m done!

Not true. Sure, some writers reach a certain point when the publisher or an agency or magical fairies will take care of the getting the work out to the readers for them, but that’s rare. And even then, lots of authors blog and Tweet and set up interviews and appearances and tour on their own to let people know their work is out.

I guess it’s never as simple as just writing until I hit “the end” and then that’s it.

Honestly, this has become the hard part. How do I get the word out effectively without becoming a pest? And might all this time talking, blogging, Tweeting, Friendstering (I kid) about my writing be best spent actually writing new stories?

It’s all so confusing. Hm… and perhaps not worth writing about, really. Oops.

Writing… freaking writing. Crap. I just can’t help it.

Good god… when is the last time I left my apartment? I don’t mean for a walk to the nearby grocery store for milk or whatever. I mean really went out, did something either productive or fun or funductive (combining words can be fun)… It’s probably only been four days or so, but it feels like FOREVER. Yes, I’ve made decent use of the time, getting some work done, but, really, I’m going stir crazy!

Why am I trapped in my apartment? Well, I suppose I’m not technically. First there was the crazy LA rain that made me want to just stay in, and now that it’s sunny again, I’ve been feeling under the weather and figure I should take it easy and let my body heal via drinking beverages with vitamin C instead of alcohol, getting decent sleep, and just generally taking it easy. I predict by tomorrow I’ll be feeling back to normal… at least I hope so. Right now I’m so antsy and bored that it’s making my skin itch. Ack! Just… TRAPPED.

(more…)

From Thursday, January 21, 2010:

Tonight the electricity went out, and I realized how plugged in my entire life was. It went out during Thursday night TV, which sucks because I was really looking forward to Community, Parks & Recreation, The Office, and 30 Rock. That’s right: all four of those shows. A full, exciting, productively evening… a two hour block of comedy DENIED me… well, until tomorrow when, one assumes, the electricity is back on and I’ll be able to watch them all on Hulu. Guess that’s something to look forward to.

But, honestly, there’s not much for me to do now. I’m forcing myself to write, which I’ll be able to do until my computer battery runs out or I run out of things to type… guessing the battery will last longer.

I have one tiny candle. It isn’t producing enough light to read… not really. I have a flashlight, but it’s this little keychain one. I have to hold onto the button to keep the little bit of light going. I could try to read by that, but it might just be frustrating. Yeah, I’m that lazy.

(more…)

Writing is way too difficult for me – when one considers the fact that I claim to be a writer (when not claiming to be a robot superhero). Some folks just have so many damn ideas and don’t have time to get them all out. That fascinates me. Oh, what a problem to with which to valiantly struggle!

When I was younger it was different. I remember in junior high school, maybe seventh grade, we had creative writing assignments. The teacher, Mrs. Smith (who always had a large cup of soda on her desk… how I wanted some of that soda… I often imagined it was Mountain Dew), gave us a minimum word count for each story. I don’t remember what that word count was, but I always went over it. I asked if it was okay to do this, which seemed to surprise the teacher – and my fellow students. They had no idea why I wanted to write more than necessary. I wasn’t sure either. Then I thought about it and came to a conclusion…

Writing is loads of fun.

And it continued to be for such a long time. I started writing epic adventure stories loosely based upon me and my best friends Nate, Tadd, and Patrick (who also doubles as my brother)… well, based upon us if we were somehow vaguely descended from Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and, strangely, Inspector Clouseau (which I misspelled “Clueso” – an accident at first, but then I decided to keep it that way because it was all “Clue? So?” … so clever).

The stories were not really inspired by the Sherlock Holmes adventures. I read Author Conan Doyle’s stories, and I had a ridiculous love for the movie Young Sherlock Holmes (still do, kinda), but the stories I wrote were really just putting me and my friends (or absurdly exaggerated versions of us) in crazy adventures that barely qualified as mysteries. Lots of non sequitors, silly action, and goofy dialog – mostly done to make us all laugh.

Handwritten stories in spiral bound notebooks was my technique. Sometimes the length of a story (or “book,” as I called them) was dependent on the notebook, actually – a sign of quality?

I’d wake up before school to write (or draw), and then write when I got home. So, while it seems difficult nowadays, it must not have always felt that way. I mean, even right now, I’m thinking, “I promised around 600 words every Monday, and I do not want to let down my reader!” I’ve gone from a footloose kid who just had to write, filling notebooks with silly adventures, to this crotchety old cuss who has trouble blogging.

This might not be the best subject for a blog, actually, but… well, it might be interesting to read about a writer who has trouble writing. I don’t know. Is it?

My hope is that by writing these blogs, I’ll get the writing muscles stronger again, and that’ll help me get some of my enthusiasm for the writing. And with that, hopefully I’ll start doing it more consistently and more… better…er… more betterer.

It just takes more discipline, I suppose. Back when I was writing stories with pencil, getting that magical graphite all over my left hand as a sign of having written, I had far less distractions. I mean, typing on the computer as I’m doing now, I have the internets right at my finger tips! How many times have I checked my email then drifted off to other sites before remembering that I’m writing this very blog? I’m not sure of the answer, but it’s definitely happened more times than it should. (Appropriate number of times for this to occur: zero.) It’s just so easy to do. I’m fighting the urge to check my Twitter page now. (I hope you’re not fighting similar urges for your own Twitter or Facebook or whatever else the kids are using to crap out often inappropriately personal info to a worldwide audience while reading this, dear reader, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you were.)

This is just another writerly discipline issue, though. So! I must write more and stay focused on my writing while writing!

Hi, reader(s)!

In an effort to entertain you more betterer and to write more, I now declare that I will post a longish (at least 600 word) blog entry every Monday. For those of you that read the late, great THE FOOTNOTE, these posts will be similar to my old “Pure Lard” column.

On days other than Monday, there will still be randomly unpredictable posts about movies or TV shows or comics or books or real life or whatever and the occasional YouTube video and miscellaneous fun link, too. But every Monday? Yeah. Original content about stuff and things.

Also, I like burritos.

Love,

D.J.

I need a watch.

For a few years now, I’ve been using my cellular telephone to tell the time, much like our ancestors used the sun and… shadows. This is usually a perfectly acceptable manner of time telling. My hands and wrists are unadorned with any jewelry — rings or bracelets (or whatever the masculine word for “bracelets” is… if that’s possible… “gauntlets,” perhaps?), and at some point in my life, a watch started feeling dangerously close to such a too-flashy-for-me accessory.

(more…)

So, I was born and raised in Ohio but have been living in Los Angeles, CA for, holy crap, five years? A little over that?

Do I have complaints? Hell yeah, I do. The cost of living — geez. It’s insane. The pollution — that smog cloud you can se when you fly in is pretty freaky. The people — no, no, not all of them, but… maybe it’s because there are so many actors, but I just don’t know where I stand with LA folk much of the time. Oh, and the traffic — fuck, man, the traffic is nuts.

But you know what I have NO complaints about? The weather. The weather in LA is delightful! Sometimes I think, “I miss the seasons,” though. The seasons help one mark the passage of time. Spring, with its renewal. Summer, with the, you know sun — well, that’s LA all the time. Arguably the two best seasons, though I miss Fall.

But winter?

Man, fuck winter! I’ve whined about missing snow before, but now? After a week of snow in some crazy Ohioan tundra? First in Northern Ohio and now in Southern Ohio? It’s ridiculous!!!

Looking outside, it is pretty. Sure, I’ll admit that. Just a sea of white, flakes falling from the sky… which is also pretty white. It’s almost unreal. But I feel trapped in the house! It’s that cabin fever I’ve forgotten about living in the permanent swell weather of Smell A! There’s no way I can go out and drive somewhere. And my sister is still at work, so I’m worried about her driving home.

Snow is absurd. Yes, it’s cheaper to live in Ohio than in Southern California, but… is the CA weather worth the steep cost of living price? I’m beginning to wonder. Maybe I’ll be missing the seasons a little less when I return to LA this Saturday… IF I can return — weather pending.

I feel like, as someone who occasionally blogs, I should write about my favorite whatevers for the past year — maybe the past decade. Lots of folks have made some great lists. Lists about movies. Lists about TV shows. Lists about… well, lots of forms of entertainment.

I’ve done year end lists before, but, honestly, I don’t have the best memory. I’ve seen lots of movies I like, read lots of good books, and watched lots of excellent TV over the year and the decade, but it’s tough to pick favorites. Honestly, I don’t even know what movies I saw this year. Saw a lot of them, though. And watched a hell of a lot of TV. Way too much. Didn’t read enough, tough.

I dunno, here are Five of My Favorite Entertainment-Type Things That Came Out This Past Decade (In No Particular Order)…

Doctor Who – Just been watching the freaking two day marathon on BBC America leading up to David Tennant’s final appearance as The Doctor tonight. (The Brits saw this on January 1st — between this and the cool accents, I’m quite jealous.). I used to hate Doctor Who — the original series — as a kid. It was on PBS, and it just freaked me out. Weird video and film combos, creepy cheap fx, etc. I think I’ll revisit them one day. The new one, though? Love it. So over the top and fun and weird and emotional — and rarely making a lick of sense. It’s the most entertainment I get from staring at the television.

Batman Begins/The Dark Knight – Holy shit! Batman kicked ass in the movies this past decade! Well, wait… when did the last shitty Batman movie (Batman and Robin) come out? Ah, forget it, I’m not looking it up. These two rule. Christian Bales is a great Batman/Bruce Wayne, and, well, we all know that Heath Ledger’s Joker ruled… yeah, these are stellar flicks.

Y The Last Man – From issue one to issue sixty, so many great stories featuring a world where all the males die, save one fella and his monkey. It’s a great road story with many surprising detours and lots to say on male/female relations and just humanity as a whole. Scary, exciting, funny, heartbreaking — great stuff.

Arrested Development - Funniest sitcom ever! I had no idea I liked Jason Bateman! And every other actor was just perfect. Such a hilarious, layered, and wacky-ass show. I revisit all three seasons once in a while. Great show to just watch in a marathon.

When You Are Engulfed In Flames – David Sedaris’s books of essays are always terrific, fast reads. This is the latest one, and it might be my favorite. As funny as his others overall, but with a little more gravitas throughout. His work has really inspired my own writing — not in ways that might be apparent, he is successful and acclaimed after all.

I left out and forgot so much. David Egger’s A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius came out in 2000, I think. That book blew my damn mind, finding hope in humor in an almost unbelievably tragic situation. The Battlestar Galactica remake with the Olmos was great up until maybe the last half of season four — and even then it was still really good. I loved Wes Anderson’s The Royal Tenenbaums just keeps getting better with age. Jeff Smith’s all-in-one Bone collection was released this decade, and it’s such an amazing work of cartooning, adventure, and fun. The novel It’s Superman! by Tom De Haven was one of my favorite versions of Superman’s origin ever (the character works so good in the 1940s), as was Mark Waid and Lencil Yu’s comic mini-series Superman: Birthright — a more modern take. Oh, crap! And Grant Morrison and Frank Quietly’s All-Star Superman — perfection! The Shield is maybe the best cop show I’ve ever seen, though I’m not through it yet. Fell by Warren Ellis and Ben Templesmith — twisted and glorious. Did Transmetropolitan by Ellis and Darick Robertson come out this decade? What about Garth Ennis and Steven Dillon’s Preacher? If so, they should be on a best of list. Baaaah…

I’m forgetting so much.

Ah, this is why I suck at these lists. I really enjoy being entertained, though.

Lots of shit this past decade, and I’m glad it’s over — but there were some good times, too.

Tomorrow I have to be at LAX around 10AM for a flight that leaves at 11:50AM. Then I get into the Dallas airport around 5PM and have a three hour layover. THEN I get into Columbus, OH at 11:25PM. Taking into account the three hour difference between Pacific and Eastern time, that’s roughly a nine hour day of travel.

And I don’t really mind.

Travel, especially airplane travel, used to bug me. It bugs a lot of people. I hated flying for a while. Nothing debilitating, but I wasn’t a fan of being in the air. And the whole airport thing of tickets and waiting bugged me.

But lately, well, less things bug me, this included. I am not a fan of layovers, but, honestly, airports have restaurants, bars, and bookstores. What do I like to do? Eat, drink, and read. What else? Mess around on my computer… and I have a laptop.

Travel ain’t no thing! I’m looking forward to catching some zzz’s on the plane, as I’ve liked sleeping in the moving cars since I was a baby (so, yeah, when not driving), and this is just being a passenger in a big ass flying car. And I have a great book I’m reading (Blink – check it out and learn lessons about “thinking without thinking”)… a fun comic I want to check out (Bizarro Comics – dig it, and, yeah, I’m behind on this one), and… what the heck? How is this any worse than hanging out in my room in LA by myself? At least I’ll be surrounded by people, maybe chit chat, AND at the end of it all, I’ll see my family.

Travel ain’t no thing, and when the destination is home, it’s more than worth it.

Remember when you were a little kid and swearing (or using a “bad word”) was a big deal? One of few things I remember from my childhood I remember quite fondly: the first time I heard my little sister, then maybe only 4 or 5, swear. I forget exactly what she was doing, but whatever it was, it wasn’t working out. I heard a muttered, kind of raspy little kid, “Damn.”

I couldn’t believe my ears! “What’d you say?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

She looked at me, totally at her wits’ end, maybe due to some Barbie shoe that wouldn’t fit her doll or because the particle accelerator she built out of common household items was on the fritz, threatening all of mankind again – I dunno. Whatever it was, she was hot pissed. In exasperation, she shouted, “I said DAMN!” And she pronounced it “day-um,” Southern Ohio style.

I laughed out loud (is there an easier way to type those words?) in shock. It was a big deal back then! Hell, I might’ve told on her, too… Not sure. If I did I was a douche bag. That seems possible, maybe even likely.

Sneaking a swear word or a “cuss” was something subversive to do as a kid, at least it was for me. Getting away with a bad word. Edgy. I felt empowered with the few “s-words” I’d let out when annoyed or the secret “f-bombs” during times of childhood stress.

But when one is an adult, swearing is no big fucking deal, is it? Shit, I can fucking swear whenever the shit I wanna, and I can even substitute “shit” for “hell” if I think it’ll sound better or more badass.

Now swearing comes as natural to me as breathing. And it’s lost all it’s fucking power, because who gives a good goddamn, you know?

So, what now then?

What the fuck now then indeed.