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Work days just look different. I can say without question that I a more productive and more relaxed working from home than I am working in the office. There are a few factors at play there. Commuting, privacy and focus, when I work, and quality of breaks.

I am not a person who shies from driving, but I also recognize how long driving takes overall. I spend no less than two hours a day commuting on a normal workday. That is time I spend listening to audiobooks, NPR, and the radio, but it is time best spent straight up working. I can roll out of bed and into the home office in under a minute. Once in the work mode I can bang out the work quickly, because I am not distracted by conversations or other people in general. I’m given my space and I use it well. I get the work handled, and when I feel overwhelmed, I stop.

I stop and hang out with my partner. Or I craft. Or I play Apex. The beauty is that I can do what I want, reset in my fashion and go back to it. In fact, I am doing that right now….

Back to work!

I just finished a really well written and beautiful story called Pet by Akwaeke Emezi. The story takes place over a 48 hour period and the book does not have terribly many scenes. Instead we are taken on a journey through the world and lives of the character and it comes to life in such beautiful images that you forget that the story itself is not action packed. In short, the plot is no hero’s journey. It takes a few steps from start to finished. Yet I still felt fulfilled. I also felt bothered. I focus a great deal on plot and this is not that. More and more I discover that plot doesn’t have the value to readers that it once did. I can therefore argue that people are increasingly drawn to compelling characters and the voice that creates those characters.

Emma Donoghue’s Room comes in at 337 pages and, well, it takes place in a room. Still, there is more plot there than in Pet and somehow I felt closer to the characters in Pet through their moments than I did to the characters in Room who were experiencing trauma so vivid that it became a movie. Pet is unlikely to be a movie in the way that there are certain books and stories that Gaiman writes which will never jump to the screen. Those are the character stories. However, I want to find a way to do both. Can you tell a deeply character driven story but still have an extensive plot–a telling of events that are layered in significance building to a climax but also taking the character on a ride that has several powerful stops along the way?

I guess what I am saying is I am good at making up plots and decent at layering in twists and turns, but does any of that matter to readers as much as character? Plot is supposed to be what happens to characters, but in fact what we notice more is how they react to their world. Perhaps that is what we are trying to learn, experience, and even recognize of ourselves in our reading of them. That is not about plot. I believe it is time I grabbed hold of that understanding.

We are fast approaching the yearly trip to Cali and I am sad to say we are not going. It isn’t a done deal, but Cali is still under the level of lockdown that makes the beach unavailable and that there is the entire point. I have it in my mind to go somewhere, and so long as I can continue to work remotely, I do not care where that is–so long as it is fun. I am about the fun life right now (heck, always) and I am also about finding a new setting and inspiration from that setting. I am happy at home (heck, always) but I get that travel bug every summer.

I have that writing bug too. I am excited to get started on new projects and explore what stories I can pull from the ether.

Speaking of stories, Upload is pretty solid. I was on the ‘low expectations’ end of the spectrum, and I found that I was presently surprised by many aspects of the show and how it views the possible future. I enjoyed the cast as well. I did not enjoy the fact that it ends ten episodes in. What ever happened to 22 episode seasons. It feels as if most shows range from 8-12 these days.

If I spent as much time on real world stuff as I did on the Minecraft world I would be prolific… and in shape… and a better human overall. I suppose that is what separates my partner and I. She does. all the real world stuff and is a legend. I do all the Minecraft stuff and continue to eek on by in the real world. I’ve been giving quite a bit of thought to the recent renewal of my Minecraft obsession and the answer is clear: escapism.

I read enough news to get that the quarantine is a big deal and I carry that stress around like a middle schooler’s backpack. Yet I can escape into a book and a pickaxe and feel very removed from everything. Still, that is not the only thing about crafting that does it for me. The sense of accomplishment on the ‘craft is instant. I can see my work and quickly edit my work in a way that writing, teaching, etc. does not allow. It feeds into my zone of proximal development, keeping me there long enough that the rest of the universe can fade away… for hours.

Why can’t I make that true of the real world? A number of reasons. One is a lack of grounding. The Minecraft world is the same no matter where I am at. Outside of that I am nomadic. I have also lost the ability to really feel like I can get into myself unless I can settle for a while, and the way I live doesn’t allow me to settle long enough to actually feel settled, which is a problem. The more I experience it, the more I recognize the rollercoaster that this has become for me. I’m dealing and finding ways to deal better, but it has an impact. So, when I do settle, I settle into my partner’s arms and when I am not doing that, I settle the craft vs. trying to settle into a space. Perhaps I should try to better develop a space to settle into that feels the same no matter where I am–like the ‘craft, but in the real world.

Some Thoughts:

1. 8:14 on reopening day. Nothing has exploded yet… yet.

Once again I have to say this is stupid. Tomorrow Arizonan’s will cheerfully stroll back into the lives that many were anxious to get away from. The State will reopen, which means the Casinos and stores will reopen, and all of it without any additional testing. We are basically setting ourselves up for a resurgence. I suppose that is the human way.

We as a people are stubborn sheep who want to be led. We are also being led in so many divergent directions that we often wind up going in circles. Often we avoid going anywhere at all. Not in the Covid sense, but in the aimlessness of life sense. Too many of us operate without purpose.

Some Thoughts:

1. I am running the risk of becoming one of those too many.

This is a Covid-19 update, of course. The key though is the question: Should we be going back to sports any time soon? I don’t have an answer. I am being asked to coach a youth flag football program at the end of the month should we be allowed to do so. The idea is to keep the players fresh and ready in case we are running sports in the fall. I don’t know that we will be. I don’t know that we should be. My kid’s middle school cancelled fall sports and is considering what to do about ‘winter’ sports because of Covid-19 fears. Nevertheless, they intend to hold classes as normal. I understand that sports gatherings are large, but so are classes, and I fear that one does not offer that much more risk than the other. Yes, there might be a larger risk of disease communication in sports… okay definitely. It more risky by several factors, and as such we should limit action to bare essentials and protect ourselves and our families. That being said, I don’t want to. There’s the rub. I don’t want to and many people don’t want to, so there is going to be pushback.

Just yesterday I complained that we are not working to better ourselves as a collective species. Today I suggest this is still true and further suggest that individual selfishness may be the cause of a lot of that.

We don’t want to do what we don’t want to do. We don’t want to be uncomfortable. We want to cheer and have fun and do the things that make us feel better–even superior. Sports figure into all of that. I want to see my kids win. I don’t want to see them miss out on opportunities to play–to lose a year, if you will. However, I get it. Greater good. That doesn’t make it any easier.

Some Thoughts:

1. NFL is gonna happen (see above on selfishness)
2. In fact, NBA may find a way to finish this season with or without fans.
3. Again, it is too soon for this to be a thing. I am disgusted that there are baseball teams already practicing in AZ despite restrictions barely being lifted.
4. Honestly, training kids at home is dope. I just need to get better at planning out some of these workouts.

In March, revolving credit outstanding collapsed at an annual rate of 31%. I was part of that decline. I used my government cheese to pay off my corporate cheese, and I didn’t even thank Trump after. I mean, he is not actually the one to thank for any of this. Before I get myself on one of those rants I just want to say that all hope is not lost.

Most, but not all.

I’ve been quite the morbid soul as of late, thinking about how quickly humanity may be snuffed out. Gott’s Copernican Method suggests we have about 760 years or so left until humanity is done. He’s not the only one who suggests we won’t make it. Theoretical physicist Alexander Berezin has a first in, last out theory that argues that the first race to manage intergalactic travel will kill everyone else in self defense. This is very not Star Trek. Yet it is possible. There are a number of possibilities. One I find depressing and, well, current, is the Great Filter theory in which most species wipe themselves out before achieving extra-planetary expansion. How? Why? Because we tend to poison our environment, or our environment poisons us in self defense. We might be seeing that now.

Whatever it is that is happening to us goes deeper than a virus. We are hyper-polarized/Hyper-partisan and driven only by the desire to have more wealth and thus power. We are not a global society that is about functioning together to create a brighter future. We just want our slice and our bling. That is not a long term plan.

Actually, Monday bares a strong resemblance to Sunday lately. I am not driving to work, I spend a lot of time with my feet in the pool and my eyes on a laptop, and the news sucks. What has me slightly riled up today is #runwithMaud (perhaps mistagged) stuff where people are paying tribute to Arbery by running 2.3 miles. One man decided to do it while carrying a tv and hauling ass through neighborhoods. He was not stopped or harassed or, by his account, even noticed. He was also white. I hate that this is the reality though it totally is.

Some Thoughts:

1. I deeply despise Fortnite. I mean visceral dislike. Here is why: It encourages people to make excuses and complain for hours. There is a clear delineation of talent between those who have hundred of thousands of followers and those who are complaining about the suck. However, the new excuse is that there is too much talent in the North American servers thus you cannot really do well. This is justified by players going over to foreign servers and winning games. Sure, you are winning, but against who? This reminds me of bad football teams acting like they won a championship because they defeated the worst three teams in the league. Here is my thing: Go where the talent lives and get better. Don’t bitch because the talent is good. That is literally the definition of talent.
2. I also think that there is a mindset with gamers that they can hop on any game and just “yeet” because they have natural gaming talent. What does that mean? Hand eye coordination? A basic understanding of button layout and keyboarding skills? Quick adaptation to rulesets? It is a less defined thing than physical sports (antiquated sports?) and I find that compelling.
3. Also my A key is sticking and it is ruining my flow…

The Ahmaud Arbery situation is a fervent reminder of what it means to be black in some parts of America. Not all parts. I grew up in different states and different scenarios of blackness that morphed as the years passed. I grew up in New York City during the time of the Central Park 5 and Bernard Getz where it was absolutely open season on black males. I grew up knowing that being black meant I needed to behave a particular way in scenarios with the law and even a particular way in public in order to avoid being seen as a criminal and, frankly, to avoid being shot dead on suspicion on doing stuff.

I survived that. I didn’t rebel. I didn’t get mad about it. I lived in a period of acceptance not unlike the slaves long ago who largely accepted their circumstances because those were the only circumstances they knew. It was how things were when I was a kid, and I was a kid who was taught to respect how things were. I grew out of that. I learned to get mad. I fell into the September 29th movement at Iowa State and learned about racial rage. I believed after a while that things were getting better. But were they?

Trumpism is about racism, plain and simple. It is a reaction to ‘things getting better’ and a concerted effort to scapegoat brown people and a subornation of cronyism. It reminds me that things have not changes all that much when you look deep down. The good has risen to the surface but the deepest waters are still cold with discrimination and power that belongs to those who are not like me. It isn’t going away any time soon. More brown people have to be in power and many more brown people will die before it changes for good.

Some Thoughts:

1. Once I really get going in the writing it is all good stuff. Not in the sense of what I write is gold, but in the sense that once I start I get on a roll and want to create more and more material.

My process, unfortunate as it is, is to let a idea marinate in my head until I approach the date where I must act. Once that date is very close I pull the idea out of my head, slap it on the grill, and flash fry that sucker as quickly as possible. It is not a good process, and in my old age I am learning that I need to do things differently. I lack the writing stamina I once had. I presume this is due to generalized fatigue and poor sleeping habits. However, it could be due to a variety of attention hogging processes running at or about the same time. Such is the way (and paves the path for a need for a new way as oft discussed in this spot).

Tonight is that write night, where I will be putting multiple stories down on paper in an effort to secure the rights to write a 10K novella. I have several of these in me. Once I get into a story I can fire it off pretty quickly, but the marinating does take a while.

I have two that I m putting forward. The 3rd never really got there. The 1st is mostly soaked and the second feels like the one that is most ready for the grill… Okay I cannot carry this metaphor any further, because it is dumb. The fact is, I have some ideas that are not entirely formed yet and the time frame for forming them is nearly expired. As a result, I am putting out there what I got, and what I got would probably be really high level if it had a couple of revision passes. This is entirely the story of my writing career.

I don’t blame Covid or any external factors. I created the majority of those factors and within them there is still time to put butt in chair and words on page. The fact is I’ve been extremely lazy and unfocused. It shouldn’t take a deadline to focus me, but it generally does. This is a lack in life I need to permanently address. Once that happens, I can put out work with the best of them as opposed to watching the rest of them pass me by.