Some Rambling (Because I Finished the Homework I Brought)

While I am not really able to decide because I have only gotten feedback from one of my five readers and therefore cannot say for certain how much or little I need to change.  I am hopefully that there will be a consensus of what I need to work on to come up with a definitive, final version of the text.  I am thinking that the language needs some work -- particularly since there are some obvious typos.

They all have two slightly different last chapters to consider between, although, even though the changes are minimal, they make a major difference in the conclusion of the story.  I can't say more, but I am guess that the changes I made will be preferred.  Perhaps there are some other minor differences I can make. 

As of right now, unless my readers point out something that it is absolutely lacking, I have no intention of writing more and adding to it.  I would rather work with what I've got and whittle it away into a final product.  Of course, all of this could change, but, my goal is to move forward. 

I feel like I have been stuck on the same themes and the same stories forever, and I have.  I have some new ideas I want to work on, I want to progress as a writer and take what I am learning right now and grow and write bigger and better and more ambitious novels.  Also, I want to focus on grad school and getting the most out of it.  In order for me to keep moving, though, I need to come out with a definitive final version of this first book (and the stories that, while aren't directly related, definitely share similar themes). 

I don't know what is going to happen with it, but I do have a plan and steps to follow and research and marketing to do -- all in good time.  Probably not until the summer, since during this semester with everything I have to do, I am probably not going to get an opportunity.

School, including my classes, my tutoring job, etc, is going well.  Hopefully will have some news to report soon.  Until then, I will continue working and progressing as far as I can towards my goals and hopefully everything will work out how I plan.  If not, I will have at least learned a lot.

A Meditation (with Jimi Hendrix)

When did I wake up in this false reality?  I sometimes find myself asking myself. The world outside looks plastic, a backdrop, like it would crumble if I pushed to hard up against it, or if I walk far enough beyond the horizon, which isn't very far, it's like the horizon in the Wizard of Oz, painted on a set, and that I will bump my nose if I try to go very far.  It's a trick of the eye.

Sometimes I wake up and I can't figure out how I got here or where I am or what the Hell anything means.  I don't know why this happens.  It isn't caused by anything in my life.  My brain merely malfunctions, or I somehow get stuck inside myself.  I have to find a way to break free.

I have to take the time to reconcile actual reality with my perceived reality, I need to meditate, or, better yet, play guitar, or something of that nature.  It's not generally very conducive for me to try and write when I get in this type of frame of mind; however, often times I find myself opening a bottle of wine or something, which generally doesn't help.  Okay, so maybe it does help, but, it works way better when coupled with an artistic pursuit.

Ultimately, it's the music, the writing, the painting (which I haven't done for a while, but I used to, somewhat, anyway) that sets me free.  When I listen to Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, The Kinks, The Beatles...  I get a sense that I am not the first (or will be the last) who have experienced this.  I am sure, to a certain degree, most, if not, all, people go through this.

At least I am not alone, and that fills me with comfort, even though it probably shouldn't.  It makes me part of the whole, instead of somehow on the outside of it.  No one is every really on the outside of it as much as he or she perceives.  Unless they force themselves to the fringes, and beyond, but I'm not going to go live in a cave.  Although it would be fun to go find a cave, go as far underground as I can, find some kind of underground lack, crystals sparkling all around from the water, which has an unnatural go.  I would go down there, and lay down at the edge of the water and stare up, emptying my mind, and just existing, the cavern around me glowing.

Maybe it is an artificial construction, but maybe it's not.  We all have a place like this in our minds, a place where we go to be alone, to wonder, in awe, to find peace inside ourselves.  When I come out of my cave, the world outside seems more vibrant, more alive, than I can ever remember it being.  It seems to shimmer and pulsate around me, and I absorb into it.

Spin It

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/19/technology/chinas-army-is-seen-as-tied-to-hacking-against-us.html?smid=pl-share

Interesting article.  Will be paying attention to how the American Spin Factory Processes this information and why it is all of the sudden coming out now.

Another

Okay, so I guess if you are a fan of my fiction, then this is your lucky night.  Here is another from that same time period.  I think I had intended to tell the whole story, but, I could never really get past this point, and realized that maybe this was enough of a story.  I think this qualifies as micro-fiction?  I dunno.

The Big City

Her cerulean eyes glowed like that one perfect May day during the blossoming of our romance, when we lay together in the soft green grass, surrounded by our favorite flower – a weed to some – the dandelion, and just enjoyed the moment of timeless bliss in comfortable silence.

“Chicago,” her soft pink lips that tasted of berry-flavored lip gloss said, springing my mind back to reality.  “Let's move to Chicago.”

We sat together at our kitchen table – our forks lifting macaroni and cheese goodness to our mouths, chewing and swallowing, to satisfy our hungers built from a day's work at our low-paying jobs – and tried to predict the future: our future.

Prediction had, nearly a year removed from that perfect May date that bloomed our love and started our lives together, become a favorite past-time of ours, and an Ohio future looked bleak.

“How can we afford that?” I, the realist, at least between her and I, said.

She pursed her lips as her eyes bounced about and the wheels of her brain turned around – she was always careful to choose the right words, especially when trying to persuade an English major – and thought for just an instant about what to say.  The logic that she had used to justify it to herself swirled about in her mind, vaguely hidden behind her pretty face.

"Anyway we can..."

Melville and Penis Jokes

"Look at the sailor, called the mincer, who now comes along, and assisted by two allies, heavily backs the grandissimus, as the mariner's call it, and with bowed shoulders, staggers off with it as if he were a grenadier carrying a dead comrade from the field.  Extending it upon the forecastle deck, he now proceeds cylindrically to remove its dark pelt, as an African hunter the pelt of a boa.  This done he turns the pelt inside out, like a pantaloon leg; gives it a good stretching, so as almost to double its diameter; and at last hangs it, well spread, in the rigging, to dry.  Ere long, it is taken down; when removing some three feet of it, towards the pointed extremity, and then cutting two slits for arm-holes at the other end, he lengthwise slips himself bodily into it.  The mincer now stands before you invested in the full canonicals of his calling.  Immemorial to all his order, this investiture alone will adequately protect him, while employed in the peculiar functions of his office."


Where does his head go? ;-)

The Kinks and Melville

Yes, they go together very well.