My brain is drained.
I’m watching the sequel to 30 Days of Night. Kiele Sanchez strikes the right tone as Stella Oleson, survivor of the Barrow, Alaska massacre. The show is not, however, creative. It served as another unpleasant reminder of the death of my own creativity. Fortunately I am a Lazarus believer. All I need to do is uncover my own literary Jesus and find a way to rise again. Yep, Easter pun.
The plot centers around Stella, wife of the original star, who has moved to LA to tell of the horrors that happened in Barrow. Nobody believes her. Nobody is willing to accept that Vampires walk the earth. Nobody except a band of Vampire hunters led by a Vamp (No homage to Blade here…). What follows is your standard vampire stuff, with a rag-tag band of humans doing what cannot be done. The black guy dies first, the sassy tough chick turns into a sniveling wretch the instant it gets tough. Like I said, Kiele makes it worthwhile with her ‘tude alone.
So, it did get me thinking about my own creativity and the sad fact that I have been lingering on a set of three short stories that i was really worked up about being successful in and now it feels like I have fallen short of what I wanted. Maybe the trick is to go into it trying to say something and trying to enjoy yourself. That’s what the 30 days folk shoulda done.