10 minutes of writing each and every day.
I haven’t written a scene in months. I’ve read or listened to plenty, but the act of putting words down has eluded me as of late. The cause? Lazinesss perhaps. Lack of butt in chair to be certain. I also haven’t been inspired. I have two novels ready to be written and revised respectively, but nothing outside of the two is ‘popping’
it could be a simple case of my mind moving in too many directions at once and none of them towards the page. This is not the way.
I just had an important moment.
I was really excited to be involved in an event my school was planning and, hearing about what some specific and vocal people were trying to make it, I decide to step away. I’m angry and those people suck, but I don’t have the time or mental energy to deal with it, so I won’t. More importantly, I don’t have to. I no longer need to be in a situation where my contribution is neither recognized or valued. I don’t need to scream in order to have my voice heard, and I don’t need to lend my air to a balloon with a hole in it. I’m definitely mixing metaphors, which apparently is bad, but I’m speaking from the heart–which I am learning is more and more of the good and more of the person I used to be. The old me was a better me for it, so I’m returning to the roots of what made me me and what made me a person people wanted to have in the room.
More and more I find the person I was and the person I want to be slipping away. More and more I have been watching it happen and feeling really awful about who I am becoming. I cannot let that continue. I cannot be walked on any longer or store up all this rage that materializes as a result. None of it is healthy, and my health is hardly good to begin with. I’m done.
This is a story about how the Giants have a path to the Super Bowl. This story features matchups and possibilities drawn purely from my imagination, but my imagination is powered by hope, and hope is a dangerous thing.
It all starts with the Wildcard game against the Vikings. SKOL rules the matchup this season, but a lot of that is based on the G-men not being healthy or on anything resembling ‘a roll’. Over the last few weeks (including a close loss against the Eagles) the team has been clicking and coming together the way they did in the early weeks–except the offense keeps shifting and evolving to meet new challenges. This is what the Vikings must be careful about. Over the last few weeks the Giants have thrown the ball just about as well as anyone in the league. They’ve become a legitimate passing team in spite of the top pass catcher being a dude they picked up off the Bills Practice Squad following Week 9…
The pass rush is getting home and the Vikings are down a few linemen. This helps. What hurts is how thoroughly the Vikings TE dominated us. I think that looks different now with Landon Collins contributing really good minutes as a Money backer being able to play the pass and the run. I think that is going to be a difference maker in this match up, and in others if and when the Giants move forward. I believe they can win, and I am excited to see them do it. If they do, what happens?
Eagles, baby. There ain’t no way the Niner’s fall this early.
Some Thoughts:
Seems like I am slipping again. I’m not hitting that publish button a second time, which means I am not really focused on what I am putting down on the screen (page?!). This peculiar habit rises every so often, so I wanted to dive back to a time when it arose prior and think about what was going on then. That led me to a post from 4.85. Only, here is the thing: I never published it. It remains one of 24 unpublished draft posts from various spots in the past. The most difficult aspect of this is that these posts reflect a sum of 240 minutes of my life that I meant to have external value that never actually did. I wasted those words in a sense.
All that being said, I’m still in that place to a certain extent. I am steel dealing with hypertension–thought I am at stage two (at least) all the time, vs. being at stage one in that post. All of the issues and situations in my life way back then still resonate. It is in this fashion that I have learned that I am not moving forward, though I am really trying to do so.
I am giving myself this week to get my shit together. It’s been 17,155 days of me being aware that I drew breath. Time to use that awareness to do something.
Alexander C. Kane has fun with his characters. I miss the days of doing that. I miss putting my people in wild situations and then just seeing what happens. I think the crux of having fun with the writing is to challenge your characters in unique ways and to develop characters who have the personalities to do truly unusual stuff. For example: I write a lot of Shadowrun, which is typically described as stories about shadow runners. Okay. So, how about you take that convention and blow it up. No, not in the traditional–write a counter story about someone trying to catch a runner, but in a more interesting way. What does that mean? Off the top of my head I’m thinking about the idea of a runner who overhears someone hiring for a big job and decides to take that information and sell it to the highest bidder, which winds up getting them in a bit of danger… somehow? To make matters worse, the runner whose payday job he is selling out is his sister.
That’s what I mean. have fun. Create dynamic characters and thrust them into situations. To make it even more fun, it could be a basic situation that is only odd or untenable because of who they are or what they can do. A man who speaks with ghosts ends up in a poker game and the ghosts decide to help him until he becomes so emboldened by their aid that they don’t, simply to teach him a lesson… one that he fails to properly learn.
I just want to get back to telling good stories. I feel like I have to remind myself how to do that.
A lot of things to talk about but they don’t actually string together coherently. So, it seems I have to layer them into…
Some Thoughts:
I failed at football. I failed despite being given every possible opportunity to succeed.
I can boil it all down to a moment. No, not the injury, which wasn’t hardly anything in comparison to major tears and ruptures. It was that moment I first showed up. That opening day of practice and the starting QB gave me a lift back to my dorm. That moment when I had every opportunity in the world to look forward to and I just didn’t give everything I had to grab that opportunity. I didn’t have but one friend on the team, but that moment that I got a ride home said, hey, I notice you. There might be potential. I should’ve worked harder to reach that potential and not let him and everyone else down. But I did let him and everyone else down. Now nobody remembers my name and I am basically a forgotten piece of that early 90’s failure. Eventually the walk-on was walked off and the story ended. I failed because I didn’t try hard enough. I didn’t sacrifice to get what I wanted. This is the story of my life.
What am I willing to give up to get what I want?
Rarely have I had an answer to or even had to answer that question. I’ve led a blessed life for the most part. Of course, I’ve been through a lot of crap, but that darkness is outweighed by fortune and light. I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for being lucky. Even now, with all of the heart stuff going on, I am grateful for what I have and have had along the way. Still, I’ve never truly answered the question: What am I willing to give up to get what I want?
I think it is the question everyone needs to answer in their life. Especially in my own. This semester is another series of very huge opportunities as a teacher, but the opportunities as a writer are proving to be elusive. The sequel to my novel is not yet secured. I thought I had it in the bag, but I have not been persistent. I also have not been sacrificing enough of my daily time to being a writer. So, that is where this all needs to start.
For months–even years now I’ve been trying to understand this idea of invisibility. I recognized it first when I was a child living in two apartments with my mother and my step father, who it seems experienced quite a bit of this himself in regards to my mother. I was only recognized/seen when I was a problem. When I was not a problem I disappeared from the consciousness of people around me, to the point where there would be conversations that would take place as though I simply did not exist in the space. This, I believe, is true of most children. There is even that phrase about being seen and not heard. It rubbed me the wrong way then, for it felt like I was existing merely as a function or prop of the people around me to be trotted out on call like a show dog. I didn’t see myself as crucial or vital in any way to the functioning world around me, and I hastily retreated into my own fantasy worlds where I was vital, because I determined the existence of those worlds.
But what does it mean to be invisible? Imagine for a moment a man who, in his own home, is treated by most people there like he isn’t even there. His partner treats him like he exists, of course, and everyone recognizes him when he is a problem, but in terms of day to day interaction, he isn’t spoken to or regarded by any of the household beyond his partner. Rules that exist when she is in the space are completely disregarded when she is gone but he remains. The only person who even deigns to make eye contact with him is his partner. He struggles to speak directly with anyone beyond this partner, because of how those interactions unfold. They unfold, as one can imagine, in the fashion of someone being forced to do something extremely uncomfortable–someone being forced to recognize someone they’d rather pretend doesn’t exist.
Imagine then the world this man may exist in. Where does he exist? Where is he seen as an individual with something to contribute to the world? By his partner, of course. However, that is mitigated by the fact that in his house he exists purely in her reality, because nobody else in the space treats him in that manner. There are no conversations with him. Everything that needs to be said or done is by proxy through her. He exists there, because she makes him relevant. So where does he exist outside that everyday space?
I believe this is a problem for many people. I use he, because I identify as male, but invisibility is not gender-based. I also understand that being invisible doesn’t mean you are useless or not vital. One can be invisible yet be crucial to the function of everything that happens. In a way that makes it worse, because then you are taken completely for granted–seen only when you withdraw and functions begin to degrade… at which point you are visible and villainized.
I think about this a lot. It keeps me up at night because I am dealing with it in my own way. Moreover, I am struggling with the idea of individual identity, because there is no physical space outside of the classroom in which I exist that I am not a function of someone else. Yet that space–moreso the institution that houses that space–is fraught with such identity dynamics that outside of the classroom I actively try not to be visible. I work against my identity there and wind up that little kid who only exists as himself in virtual spaces.
Consider what that does to a person–to their confidence, to their idea of belonging, to their idea of self. I have. I’m still considering it.
About time to get back to the school schedule, which means a lot of early(ish) mornings. I’m looking forward to having a sense of routine that extends beyond the basics of knowing what my morning routine is and then open source for the rest of the day. I get into a lot of trouble being fully open source, because I am always expecting the structure of a routine to come into play and I know the open is always temporary. Anyhow, that’s just Segway into adding…
Some Thoughts:
What a crazy end to the league seasons. We decided to split the prize money evenly due to the tragedy that unfolded during the Monday night game. The league officially marked me as 1st place, but that can be adjusted if the game resumes and they decide to play their talent during the game. I’m guessing no. So, I’m that guy. My team name, There goes that man rings true finally. A victory in the second season in a keepers league bodes well for who I get to keep, and I have a fairly loaded RB room. The final determination comes down to Jacobs or McCaffery, and I’m glad to have plenty of time to decide. I am also glad and grateful to see Brock Purdy shine. He brings respect to the Iowa State moniker and definitely makes his High School proud. Honestly, I’d like to see him lead the Niner’s right into the NFC championship… vs. the Giants. That would be something, wouldn’t it?
In the meanwhile, I’ve spent some of my winnings on new sneakers and that has me thinking that it is time to get back in shape and back to a limited form of coaching up my kids for the next few months. I call it a bit of a cheat, because I need to get back in shape desperately, and this gives me another way to spend time with them while I do it.
Some Thoughts: