Monday, September 28, 2015

Maybe Mondays should be "Wall of Text" day.

I’m trying to make myself stop using the word “so” to begin a sentence. Is there anything inherently wrong with the practice? Well, it can be annoying. Also I should try not to use the word “well” to start a sentence.

I often write like I speak. Conversationally, as it were. Or at least I write like I think. My thinking and day-to-day speech if filled with a lot of slang, cursing, quotes from both pop culture anything and everything, quotes and references to more obscure things only a few people might get (probably the people that would get them are never going to read whatever it is I’m posting that day).
It’s hard, knowing I’m toiling in obscurity. I’m trying to avoid the habit of using the pronoun “you” when I mean “me”. Do you understand what I mean? An example would be as in the first sentence of this very paragraph. I first typed, “…knowing you’re toiling in obscurity.”

Do you think “toiling in obscurity” is cliché? Hey. My Word 2007 program just added the little emphasis mark over the “e” in cliché. Okay, that’s too many quotation marks now; it’s getting on my nerves.
So, what do YOU think?

What do YOU think, faceless mob of readers?

I don’t know that the phrase toiling in obscurity is necessarily cliché in use, I haven’t seen it used that often, but perhaps it is cliché in that it lacks original thought. But if it’s the perfect phrase for the way I feel, why should I originated something that will probably be convoluted (as I so often do) when I can a phrase that is precise?

What do you think, unknown intelligent persons reading my at-least-five-minutes-a-day for today?

This is my practice, my daily homework, my stream-of-conscious pressure valve where I spew things. Here I keep them (because I tend to cling to every thought, hoping one day something will be the spark I need to launch me into the…

Into the…what? Not rarified air, I don’t pretend to be a budding Tolkein, Martin, or Hobb.

Or even a…what’s the name of that guy…Robert Asprin. I used to read his M.Y.T.H series. I don’t have the patience for it anymore. Oh, it’s funny alright. Great fun. But I need my stories to be a bit meatier now. Even if the book is rather short, I need the story to have weight, rich texture, and depth. I just read Starship Troopers (yes, I only just got around to it, bite me). That was delicious. Like a sweet and savory cake, a crafted recipe. A good deal of Asprin’s work is, for me, more like doughnuts. Very tasty, well made doughnuts. But doughnuts none the less.

After all…I can make up my own silliness. I do it all the time. I don’t use it for my own stories because honestly it bores me. It’s too easy. Was that mean to say? I worry over that. Is Mr. Asprin dead, so that he may never, ever find out that I said that in any bizarre set of nearly impossible circumstances? And is stating his work tastes like tasty chocolate covered whipped cream filled doughnuts speaking ill of the dead?

Well, this bit has gone nowhere fast. I’m trying so hard to purge my writing of the markers of modernity. Words, phrases, and…what do you call something that starts a sentence but doesn’t really add anything? I’m trying to stop using words like and, so, well, see, and the like to start sentences.

Add okay to that list, because I just started this sentence with it and then removed it. Where am I going with this again? I am trying to remove slang and poor grammar and lazy turn-of-phrase from my writing because…

Add using ellipses to that list.

….because too many people are already using it. But how to find my own voice, how? HOW I ASK YOU!

Add using all capitals and too many exclamation points to that list.
How to write in my own voice without removing my personality from my conversational language?

Do I even really want that to be my personality?

I am emphatic, emotional, often erratic, sometimes irrational (C-c-c-c-combo breaker!). Shut up, that was fun. How to convey my fascinating personality without typing in a way I feel conveys said personality.

I know I need to add giving up the rambling sentences and paragraphs.
Sigh. Should that even matter in a space where I should feel free to explore things that I need to ruminate on? That I need to examine and analyze and dissect and beat to death so all the bits are broken up and I can pick them all up and inspect them and then obsess why each and everyone of them is there and is thing a gestalt or something else?

I just used the word gestalt! I feel I’ve grown as a person and a writer. I hope I used it correctly. I dislike precision.

I think that’s part of my…not problem. I don’t think it’s a problem. Difficulty? I feel  the way I write when mulling things over is part of my need for precision. I want to thoroughly express my every thought. Because it’s not something I do in everyday life. Much. I’m an introvert. It’s part of my thing. It’s how I roll.
I like that one, I’m keeping it.

But…but…but…if everyone is doing it, the slinging of slang and silly references to things they think are awesome (and lot’s of people are) I’m not unique! And if I write like people wrote in the past, I’m still not unique, because just dredging up something old and using it isn’t original!

Derivative! Save me from a literary life of derivativaty and non-orginalness!
Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. It appears I do have a few fucks left to give. I’ve been saving them up.

Pah. Bah. Today is supposed to be my Quiet Monday. I can feel illness creeping up on me. I get a full body exhaustion and achiness sometimes, where I feel like I have the flu but I’m pretty sure there’s no virus. It’s just my body trying to purge cortisol I think. That’s a stress hormone. I’m not even sure if that’s a real thing, the body making itself feel flu-ish to get a person to rest when they need it. But that’s what it feels like to me.

I had a bit of a stressful weekend. TheDaughter had a friend over for a sleep-over. Having someone in my house that isn’t usually in the house stresses me. I feel it necessary to stress and fuss over appearances, cleaning and food and stuff. And there’s a presence, an energy there that’s just not usually there. I have to be aware of it, because the person has needs that must be seen to and the people who live here can often see to their own needs. Even if it’s people I love dearly, relatives and best friends that I don’t really need to worry about cleaning for, I still need to make sure there’s more food and meals prepared and a variety of snacks and where are they going to sleep and we only have one bathroom and the house is too small, too small, too small. It’s too small really for just three.

Check your privilege, bitch. You need to be grateful for what you have.
I am grateful! Doesn’t stop or mitigate my automatic stress reaction!
Enough! I’m going to post this now and then play Dragon Age Origins for many hours. And there’s no one here that can stop me, ha!

I really hope I can get back into the Korcari Wilds after this first battle is over. I have three side quest items that have to be done there. The guard at the gate said I could get back in, but can you really believe an NPC that doesn't even have a name? 

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