It's going to happen.

In about six hours I'll begin writing another novel, my fourth. As if that wasn't scary enough, a witch just came to my front door and demanded candy! I was so petrified I obliged.

Spent (wasted?) a good deal of the day getting my novel's website up and running. I dunno. Not too happy with it, but it will preserve for all posterity my efforts at writing Big Train Show. I have all the elements needed for a good story (char, theme, plot) but only time will tell if I have a story. I've gotten encouraging feedback, so perhaps it will delight all the blimp fans.

I'm a little less excited than I thought I would be, but a lot more hopeful. I took a nap this afternoon so I can be ready to begin typing at midnight, and I'll see how that works out. I expect a page, maybe two, before I go to sleep.

So many people on the NaNo board have said great things about their efforts, I'm sure there will be lots of fun stories to relate and many winners. I'm glad for them all, and wish everyone the very best of kamikaze noveling!

It's a gorgeous day, but I wasted it. I missed my bus this morning, the one that was expected to whisk me away to a writer's meeting. Now I need to wait a week and to make more apologies. I'm always making apologies. I'm certain they get old, fast.

But that's not the point. Here's the thing about me and writing. I have it on good authority that I write well. I don't doubt it, either. I've always been facile with words, literate, and able to string words together. A good portion of that is practice, but there's some raw talent, too, that I believe comes from reading a lot and just picking up how to do things, how sentences should look and behave. Then, I've taken a few courses in copy-editing which have helped immensely with grammar. And, I've had several classes where I've learned to be concise and how to make my writing less lame.

With all that said, one would think I'd have no problems. But I see two necessities in writing. One is the language used, and that can be taught (it's how I've learned). The other, though, is the more important: the content.

I can write well, but do I have anything to say? I can take someone else's idea or story and make it read well, but can I carry off a novel on my own? I can write so people can understand what I'm saying, but can I come up with ideas that people will want to read? If I have something to say I can do it pretty well, but I beat myself up a lot about not having stories worth telling.

Now I need an injection of talent, of knowledge, of story-telling ability. Lots of books suggest ways to become creative, but crafting ideas into stories has long been my challenge. I can't tell what's wrong with my stuff.

I was always wondering about this. Now I know.

My Your Little Pony Name Is is Snowball.
Take My Little Pony Name Generator today!

I feel so left out. I wonder who decided that the two parties in power have all the answers. I wonder why more people are predisposed to believing the next election will be rigged than prefer either candidate. I wonder why, instead of disagreeing, so many people actively despise the opposition party. It all seems a tad too Orwellian for me, "Why, I'm a Demoblican. Only Demoblicans are good. I must hate the Republicrats and believe everything bad about them."

Around five hundred million dollars is being spent to win the presidency. That's obscene. I think I hate politics. I know I hate the pandering snobs running the two parties.

So I resort to writing silly fiction. I've gotten positive feedback about my blimp idea. I came up with that as a way of giving my main char his fifteen mins of fame, long since passed. I don't know why, but I like the idea of a non-deserving has-been. It's one thing to wake up this morning and think "I'm Steven Spielberg" or "Mick Jagger," it's quite another to wake up and realize "I'm Kato Kaylin."

But this blimp idea so intrigues me that I may move up to the present. I'm not sure how it will work out with Sid receiving his fifteen minutes in the middle of the story, but it may prove worthwhile. I'll need to think about that. I hope Minardi (my dog) is resting up. He may need to go on a lot of long walks as I mull this over.

Hooray! I've finally won!

The last twenty-five hits on my site have ALL been bots! I'm so proud.

I exist for the pleasure and sake of the machines.

I mean, I get ten times as many hits from Yahoo!, Google, Okami, et al as I do from human viewers who actually visit my site because they're told to do so by authorities, but never before has every hit been a bot.

I remember one economist once pointing out that you can't have service-based economy based solely on people delivering pizzas to each other. I wonder if you can have a blogging community based solely on bots indexing and tracking things no one ever reads.

Today I bought a pack of cigarettes thinking they'd make life enjoyable and remove my demons. To my surprise, they had no such effect.

It's happening, again. Not like deja vu, though, since I remember the other time very well. It's not hard, it was just a couple days ago.

We're having another rain event. It's also been called a severe weather pattern and shower activity. I really don't think anything of value is added to the occurence of rain to add any events, patterns, or activity to the term. I guess it sounds fancier, more scientific, but this is the kind of wording that dilutes the impact of the easily understood and completely useful term rain.

I suppose if you're pulling down a hundred or two thousand a year you have to justify that somehow. It's not good enough to say "it's raining," not when Storm Watch 2004 can be called and you can make the lesser weather people and reporters stand on corners in slickers and attempt to create some drama and value from water falling out of the sky.

My favorite moments of local news are always following earthquakes or fires. Without a script to read, these attractive reporters are surprisingly adept at filling minutes with nothing remotely resembling news or knowledge. I think, I hope, most people would expect there to be broken windows, smouldering remains of once-proud structures, the debris of disaster. I think none of us is the better for having it seen and explained to us.

Today they had a closeup of water rushing down the gutter into a drain.

I got all excited last night, but it was for nought. I thought, for a moment, one of my neighbors was rushing the season and already had their Christmas Lights up. I considered noting the date in my calendar since this would be the earliest evidence of Christmas in my personal record book. It's not even Halloween yet!

Alas, it was a Halloween display. Now that someone's begun the noxious habit of stringing orange lights all over their eaves, I can only expect more to do the same. The worst part of it, of course, is that sooner or later *I* may get roped into this, too.

When I was around twenty a friend and I were already discouraged by all the Christmas decorations. At that time, and I think it even made the paper, everyone on the street had a seven foot candle on their front yard with their family name placed in front. I have no idea how the Jewish people felt about this, but my guess is they meekly complied since many of the names were similar to ones of my Jewish friends. Oddly, one of my better friends, Chris Goldstein, surprised me by being Catholic. I discovered that late in our relationship.

But I digress. Anyway, another friend and I were lamenting the Christmas decorations. What we wanted to do, and the idea that struck us as the funniest, was to begin decorating our lawns with Thanksgiving items. We started off deciding to cover the lawn in a red and white checked tablecloth and got all the way up to a steaming gravy boat before dropping the plan.

Nope. No news about the novel.

Last night we had our first LA NaNoWriMo "meet and greet" where I was met and did some greeting. More people showed up than I expected, more than in years past, and all of them were eager and excited. I enjoyed seeing a few familiar faces and hope to see more. It was unclear if anyone enjoyed seeing me, either again or for the first time.

While talking about my upcoming noveling intentions I mentioned I'd like to have a character who was famous. Not a celebrity, and not someone who's done anything to deserve it, something akin to a Baby Jessica who got her fifteen minutes for falling down a well. I'm intrigued by this, how some events and people somehow click into everyone's consciousness while tons of other similar events get no mention at all.

Anyway, I think it would be cool to have a char who was famous for something years ago, someone people might remember but maybe not why or for what. I'm stumped, though, about why or how this person would be famous. An incredibly good suggestion was given about someone born with no elbows and that has me thinking, but that would be a constant source of amazement.

I spent most of last night thinking of life without elbows. Could you even get dressed?

I'm beginning to experience a strange mix of dread and excitement. I'm anxious to get started writing again, but I'm in the worst position I've ever been in as far as preparation goes. I'm far behind where I think I should be as far as ideas go. I'm wondering, seriously, about my past works, and am wondering if they're as unfocused as I think. I can now describe them in twenty-five words, but I'm not sure at all if what I describe is actually on the page.

I wonder if I lack the sharpness needed to write a good novel. Do they really have a theme, a single idea, any of the things that a good novel should have? I can write a yarn, whatever that is, and maybe that's all I should strive for.

I know, I know. Most newcomers coming to my blog complain because there aren't any flashy pictures.

Here's one for today:




The rains have left and I enjoyed bright blue skies and definite sweater weather. One would think that this day was tailor-made (as opposed to, say, the work of a tuba player) for bike riding. It was. I didn't. I could have, but got caught up around the house putting off bike riding.

I'm inching away from the proposed story line mentioned in the Big Train Show website. It may be a spoiler, nonetheless, so you may want to avoid the entry for the twentieth in case I resort to that lame idea. What's frightening me is I'm considering having Sid and Dina get together, and that can't be good. I want him to be attracted to her, fascinated by her way of life, but at the same time repulsed and frightened by her lack of planning and spontaniety.

Owen, naturally, will try to be all over her.

It should be obvious that I lack expertise in personal relationships, so I wonder why the hell I think I can write about them? I'd be better served writing a novel about the Unabomber and the troubles he has doing his laundry.

It rained here for the last couple days and pretty much soaked the ground, which is what a rain should do. The local news sent people out to take pictures of water, in one case even showing the damage done by the "storm." A small wall of uncemented or secured cinder blocks had a gaping hole!

When I was young we had "rain." Now it's always "storms." I think this is weakening the whole notion of a storm, but they never asked me.

My upcoming story continues to scare me. I've decided I need to talk some with the Gods of Literature and demand something be done about POV. I don't think it's fair that I should have to choose one. If I use first or third person limited, I love the intimacy, but then that damn character has to be everywhere and see every thing I want to talk about. If I use omniscient (and I've never done that well), it's too bland. I don't want to write the prose equivalent of a screenplay, something that objective doesn't excite me at all.

And, my main character isn't happy and funny. I want to write happy and funny, or at least cynical and dry. I hope I can carry it off, and wonder if that's why my earlier stuff isn't as good as it could be. I think what will emerge in November will probably be fine, but right now I'm concerned.

It had to happen. It's raining. I'm dry and snug inside, so no need to worry about me, but I know the freeways will be a mess and it will be a sad and long drive home for most people.

I do get mad. Not often, and not normally that I can notice, but it does happen. When I get mad I have a tendency to say things that hurt other people. I do this as a means of demonstrating my maturity, how I can make them hurt, too. It's one of my least desired traits.

Instead of acknowledging my problems and bringing myself back up, I seek to reduce others to my level. This tactic, I must admit, has never worked, but that's because most other people are more mature and together than I am.

So, I tried to avoid doing that this weekend and, of course, that just made things worse.

I found an interesting thing in my blogging software: "236 karma votes cast (1.2 on average per entry) with 180 positive and 56 negative for a total karma rating of 124" My guess is that other bloggers would look at those numbers and laugh, but they're not me.

This must be a joke.

I'm guardedly optimistic about this year's novel. If I can get past worrying about myself for a little while I think I can fashion a usable storyline. I know I don't need it all worked out by Nov 1 when I start writing, but I do think it's better to have a turning point towards which to write. I should go over my notes, see what still strikes me as interesting, and let things flop around in the back of my head.

I am really in a quandry. Or is that quandary?

Okay, as far as this novel thing goes, I'm wondering more about this traveling carnival. It seems almost *too* easy, even though I know nothing of carnival life. The easy part is it immediately adds intrigue, romance, and lots of corn dogs.

It turns out there *are* still carnivals that travel around. I don't think they do so on trains, which might happen anyway, but the best part is it will strap a ticking clock on Dina's availability, or the time she has to complete something.

Falling out of love with her name, too, by the way.

Today instead of doing any plotting or novel-thinking, I watched the ball games. Funny how I end up rooting for one team over the other when I honestly have no plan to do so. No, not the American League games, I have to want Boston.

Minardi spent the day huddled away from the rain, which kept the house fairly clean.

It's been a day. I've had to be a little fast on my feet.

Now I'm worried about carnivals. There used to be a couple that came through town, mostly to set up at schools as a fund-raising thing. Really crappy rides, but when I was young I never noticed or cared. I may have Dina work at one of them. One interesting point to that is she'd have a time clock, and that may help add some urgency to something. If she's only in town for a week, well, whatever happens would be rushed, or at least couldn't take forever to be resolved.

The circus used to come to LA by train and park right near a place I worked. They all lived on the train, and maybe I could somehow use that. Not sure if they have rides at the circus, but that's why they call it fiction.

NaNo, as a group thing, has lost a lot of pleasure today. I expect it to come back. I get knocked down easily, even do it to myself when no one else's handy, but I also bounce back up.

Today I accomplished much.

On the novel front, and that's really the only thing I'm doing now (assuming thinking about something to write could be considered "doing," which is debatable), I've temporarily given up worrying about my female lead. She'll come when the time is right for her. No need to rush it, but I may consider having her run an amusement park ride. This might, of course, somehow tie into a train ride, and the Big Train Show.

I'm coming up with a secondary character, who may end up growing to enormous proportions. He's a bad guy, my first, and I have no idea what his outcome will be. That's definitely something I'll find out when I write out.

In other matters, life goes on. For a brief moment I was excited and happy, with Rough Draft working under *nix. Oh, sure, it complained a lot, but it worked and life was good. Then, inexplicably, it stopped working and has resisted every effort to show its face. I don't know what I did to get it to work, and what I did to stop it. It was odd, even at its best, since it wouldn't allow me to shut it down. I had to shut down (at least the GUI interface) to wipe it from the desktop.

Too bad for me. I keep getting these glimpses of a good life, then they're pulled away.

Yeah, there are a million of them out there, but this one's very simple. There's only a few key things for anyone to watch for, just to make it easier. It's still possible, of course, that you'll die of alcohol poisoning.

Take a drink when Bush says:
Flip Flop
Tax and Spend
Liberal

Take a drink when Kerry says:
Wrong
Out of touch
Outsourcing

Take a drink when either says:
Coalition
Deficit
Anyone panders by speaking Spanish
Working poor

Today's big accomplishment was going out to get a job and finding it's been filled. This has happened before, so my thick skin suffered no bruising. My legs are tired, though, since it was an uphill bike ride (against the wind, too) and I'm no closer to being able to ride carefree than I was a week ago.

Just being efficient doesn't make riding a bike easy. How did I manage before? I remember NONE of this!

Another thing I don't recall is politics being this ... mean. No one can say anything good about the others. There was a brief moment in the VP debate when Edwards said something about Cheney's daughter, who responded in a very sincere and warm way, then back to the fight. I'm sure I've heard this same "flip flop" nonsense dealt out in election after election by the Republicans, and the Democrats are now going back to 1992 and punctuating everything with the then-successful "out of touch" line.

My God. If it resonates with the voters, we'll use it. I hate the marketing of the Presidency with a passion.

Have considered and rejected more jobs for Dina. Not enough ooomph with a hand model. Do they even still have those people who lug big ice chests filled with an assortment of sandwiches around big buildings any more? Damn. The terrorists have won if that practice has been halted.

Internet tests are fun!



Especially if they're geeky.

I guess there's controversy over Colombus Day. Me? I always just took it as a nice day off. Last time I was in Philly, walking around and killing time, I saw a statue of Colombus, something never seen on the west coast. Also, my ex made certain I saw his house when we were in Genoa, her home town.

Today I'm in a writing quandry, though I doubt that's the right word. I'm wondering about what my characters need to do for a living, and I'm stuck. I know, I know, it will come in time. The thing is, I pride myself on my originality, also a bit on my edginess. I'm fascinated by people who have jobs outside the mainstream of plumbers, machinists, office workers. Everyone I know in life has one of those jobs, so they don't interest me much as a source of fiction.

I forget the writer's name, the one who championed the common man. I dislike most every story that features a writer. That's just lame. If aliens ever study our culture from our films and writings, they will be convinced fully half the population is doctors, lawyers, architects and writers.

Actually, I like this part of the process, nearly as much as the writing itself. I'm coming to terms with who the characters are, but unsure how many I will end up with. This, also, isn't new. Last year I think it took fully half a page before a woman introduced herself to me and becoming an object of desire for my main character. It seems my characters rarely, if ever, fall in love with who I set up for them.

This year I may steal a character from an earlier work, but that feels really dirty. I can come up with a new girl, somebody worthy of Dina. So far I've discarded, maybe, having her be independently wealthy, working in a lab, and being a car salesman. Something will come, I just trust my gut on that one.

Yesterday's entry was simply pathetic. This morning I'm feeling much better, rested even. I blame it on the debate.

Big Train Show is coming right along. Full of problems and sparse in details, I'm right where I should be. There will be an old guy who's content and who gets tangled up with a younger woman who involves him in something or other. I'm trying to remember the movie that happened in (if it's only one). I think it starred Melanie Griffith.

Mine won't be that madcap, nor as good, and it isn't my goal to copy it. The good news is I think I have an ending in mind, and that's all I really need. If I have the destination, I can fake the journey. So I think I have the conflict and the result. All I need now is to figure out how to work a Big Train Show into it!

Had an okay day. Nothing depressed me, nor did anything live up to my hopes. Things rarely anymore are as good or bad as I think they'll be, they just are.

I want most things to be better than they are.

The politicians all treat me as if I'm a brain-dead idiot, so maybe I am. I wear out the people around me, so maybe I'm expecting too much. I no longer know what's going on, just fading away, sinking like.

It's okay.

It's okay.

Today I proved that theory of Newton's, that one about objects at rest. Got very little done and didn't feel like doing much. Usually in the morning I make or have a set of plans or goals for that day, things I can't wait to start. Today? None of it.

Read some about the importance of character and began filling out a character sheet for Tod. I've never been much of one for those character sheets, which always remind me of D&D, but as I started to write down some history and things for my character the first thing that happened is he got a new name. Then, as I was thinking about it, the story started changing.

Now I think I may have come up with a new character, the trophy shop's owner. He might not be the one who's story it is, or maybe just not the one who meets Dina. I may have another char, someone younger who works in the trophy place, and that's good. I need some more people, just not sure yet how many or what they'll all do.

Installed samba on my box, but didn't configure it yet. Still missing the FreeBSD ports CD, which has some programs I'd like to install on the laptop. If I get industrious tomorrow, maybe I'll find it. I'm also thinking of moving more books to my room and paring down the shelves in the great room. Who knows what I'll end up doing tomorrow! Maybe just thinking and remembering...

Spent a little time on the forum but didn't feel like saying much. My mood is as gray as the sky's been, and I think I'm calming down. Lots to do, no doubt of that, but maybe tomorrow...

Ahhh, the change of seasons, LA style. It was foggy this morning, the mist stinging my face as I took an early morning short bike ride. The purpose of the ride was mundane (to see if I could climb a nearby hill) and the mist surprised me.

Also, I don't know. A sobering day when the roosters I've created and unleashed have come home to roost. I'll get accustomed to it. I have to.

On the novel front I think what may be the new thing this year is having a bad buy. Maybe not an out and out villain, but someone sneaky and out to get something. He isn't going to be my hero, but he may play a large part.

I'm feeling drained. I'm not sleepy, but I'm tired and want to go to sleep. I need to do some serious thinking, the kind that I'm forced to every once in awhile when reality shatters my dream world. No big deal, nothing that will drive me crazy, but another sad reminder of my place in the world.

You'd think by now I'd know better, that I'd be functional and able. I'd think so too, and we'd both be sadly mistaken!

Oh, man! What a debate the veeps just had! I can't wait until tomorrow to see if I got the winner right!

On a side note, I noticed Sen. Edwards punctuating his remarks with a fist. I wonder if I ever do that when *I* talk. I don't think so, and can't imagine it, but my guess is it resonates well with the American people.

Today was mostly frustrating. I had plans and things, but few of them made it to fruition. I *did* get the other computer working again (it had lost one of its CDs), but that wasn't on my list. I started to clean up around 'puter central (I was looking for a CD) but gave it up when I realized it was more work than reward. I may try again but not for a few days. I don't need the CD until late in Oct, if then.

Had big plans to do some serious mulling over of my upcoming novel. Didn't. I'm not yet good enough on my bike to concentrate on character development while dodging traffic. Walking is better for that: it gives me more time. I think it's good to have a character who has a quirk, but it must be one that makes sense. Just having someone who wears hats or who whistles isn't what I'm looking for. Sure, it makes them memorable to the reader in the book, but I don't think she or he would live on much past the last page.

I want a *real* character, one who's both likeable and who can stick with the reader. I'm thinking...

Oooh! Oooh! I better stop rambling on about my problems and start writing about writing. Too bad, too, because I was hoping to say something funny, like if there was a National Moping Hall of Fame I'd like to go there and see how I stack up against the acknowledged professionals.

Anyway. Writing. Um, yeah.

I have the title for this year's NaNo Entry, Big Train Show. No, I don't know what it's about. No, I don't know when I will.

I had a an idea about having a guy find something tossed aside on the shoulder of the freeway and having that lead him to a girl and so far that's the best I can come up with. I was thinking that would be it, that it would be another of my love stories, but I'm having grave misgivings.

I think that can be a good way to start a story, to have them meet, but will need more than that to make a story that interests me enough to write it.

Oh, and last night I came up with a new personal fear. I'm not sure if the woman who was kind enough to give me a ride speaks quietly or if I'm going seriously deaf. I could hear her talking, but not always make out what she was saying. I don't know if she's quiet or I'm deaf, and that's the truth.

NaNo is back. I may have to do a lot more blogging about writing (any would be more) now, but I'll be doing a lot more thinking about writing so I hope that it will be easy.

Before I knew it I had a message from a friend, and before I knew it I had wasted several hours on the fora. I don't feel the thrill and rush yet, but I think it will come. I need to do some serious walking or thinking to get my story in order, and maybe I can do that while riding.

It's been a day of holding my breath. I know the only treasures in life come from taking risks ("A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are for" is one of my favorite expressions), but I still don't like it. I always feel as if I'm setting myself up for rejection, even though that's rarely the outcome. The thing is, if I expect black or white, if that's all I can imagine, the answer is invariably orange.

I love surprises, but not sobering ones.

As to the debate....the best response I heard was someone remarking on the choice of neckware. Kerry, in an effort to get blue states, was wearing a red tie and Bush was wearing a blue one. I wish I'd noticed that, that I'd been the clever one.