I started working out on plot outlines today to get the feel of how the story should progress. Each chapter will have its own plot that will stitch itself to the bigger picture. This isn’t the hard part for me. It’s like when I write my skeletons – short stories just focusing on the action, containing minimum dialogue.
Enough about that, though. I was feeling optimistic for a while now. I had a recurrence, however, on Sunday when I was reading something that left my mood deflated. It quickly passed when Jyg, Izzy and I went on the nature walk. It’s not entirely spring yet, but there was enough flowers to snap pictures of. However, the lack of butterflies was more than depressing. It cleared my head of certain things, wrapped my mind around a storyline between two characters with similar issues as mine – I won’t go into detail, but the issue isn’t written verbatim, mind you.
There are other issues I want to cover, but it’s best if I don’t cram the whole lot of them into this single storyline. By the way, there are other ideas in my head.
I think the best thing to do is just write about it so it’s not longer a part of me. It was in Kinky Friedman’s book that I learned that writing about something real might make it go away – make it vanish.
In ecstasy, there is often a sense of heat — filled with immense love — that permeates the body. This warmth seems to emerge from the seat, flares in the belly, and rises upward, fanning out at the heart. As this fire moves through the body, it also moves through the awareness, consuming all thoughts (or, more accurately, the tremors from which thoughts emerge). This fire burns away even the thought of “I” — only the sense of this living flame remains.
This is such a wonderful fire that mystics often describe it as a flame of love, so enchanting that, like the moth, you want to dart in and be utterly consumed. (via)
Like any good story, this one starts with a fire and ends with a fire. The flames overlapping the illusions of happiness, the false sense of security.
It’s not a story about love, but one of lusts and loss. A story about traditions and expectations. About how we dig these holes that are now our beds. The choices we make that map our paths to who we are. The consequences of allowing others to define who we are. The need to surround ourselves with the familiar and beg that it will never change.The sideshow attractions of the freakish nature of our minds.
This isn’t a story about how things work out in the end. This isn’t a story about how things will fall into place no matter how much we fuck up because we always carry the joker wild in our pockets. This isn’t a story about beauty or the ugly. It isn’t about being straight out or cynical.
This is a story about our inabilities, no matter how much we want something badly, no matter how hard we attempt to keep the walls from falling, the strings from slipping our grips, the ceiling caving in, the world breaking our backs – no matter how much we change, make up our minds, rethink and reevaluate the world, we can never truly escape ourselves.
This is my story. This his story. This is your story. I hope it all works out in the end.
I’ll never be the world’s greatest writer, but I’m allowed this task. I’ve been busy taking my notes – which I finished the bios and character descriptions on Saturday – and most of my attention is being used to see this through. I’m going to start working on plot and subplots this week. Hopefully, however, Jyg and I (and possibly Izzy) are going to take a stroll down the nature path tomorrow. It’s no Santa Anna, but at least it’s closer.
Jyg and I finally watched the series finale (I always feel weird saying series when I mean season) of Skins and started watching Moral Orel on Saturday, as well. Jyg’s never seen the latter so I’m introducing her to the 12-minute TV show from Adult Swim.
Most of the day, however, was spent outside where she read Freud and I worked on “Squares.” I explained what I was planning to do with each character and how the story will flow to the final chapter. I also explained that I was concluding it with an open ending just in case I want to use them again.
Hopefully, I can meet up with JD this coming week to discuss some things. I promised him a detailed description, but decided against that. I’m going to give him the bios plus the short list descriptions, giving him some air to breathe. We’ll have to come to an agreement in the end how each character should look, anyway. It’s something we should be comfortable with.
I’ve spent my days taking snapshots of the yard for no reason in particular. Actually, taking them calms me down. My level of anxiety has been really high and now that I’m taking medicine that make me drowsy – I have a cold, nothing fatal – it’s been hard to control my emotions mostly because I’m trying to control not falling asleep.
The other night I started writing down my notes on the “Squares” project that’ll I work with JD. He’s had surgery the other day, so this gives me enough time to come up with character bios and backgrounds. Nothing too complex, just enough notes to understand why they are the way they are. I hope to have enough detail about them so I can pass it along to JD next week and we can get started on the story and plots of each “chapter.”
Originally looking at twelve chapters, I’ve decided to cut three out and only hold nine. It’s going to be rather difficult telling a story in only nine chapters, but if I make the subplot for each around 40 pages, then I should have no problem. Problem is, I’ve never written a script for a graphic novel, so I’m on edge. It should be a fun venture, though.
I’m scrapping the names for better ones – though the prototype stage that I’m one will keep on the originals. If this flies straight, I just might to pick up the other failed project – “Sex, With Strangers” – again and fiddle with that. I think it would make an interesting story to tell. But patience, I’ll think about that later. After we’re finished with “Squares.”
I woke up early this morning, having fallen into a drug induced sleep. I quickly decided to go back to bed. About 9:30AM I woke up again after having a horrible dream.
I was apparently having a fight with Jyg and I couldn’t make sense of why. I was on edge, wishing to talk to her but she wasn’t calling or accepting my calls. That’s when my ex came to my house after having a fight with her significant other. I made all attempts to repel her from my room, but she stayed around, beginning to act like we were in a relationship again. My stomach started to knot. I left my room to talk to someone and upon returning, found her lying naked on my bed – beneath the sheets, mind you. I only gathered she was naked from the context clues – her clothes were on the floor.
After I told her she shouldn’t be doing this, she got a phone call from her significant other and they reconciled. She left – clothed, of course. And I sat on the bed and stared at the floor. I texted Jyg later, telling her I missed her. That’s pretty much when I woke up.
Like I said in my Tweet – Horrible bad dream is horrible.
In retrospect, I’m beginning to think my whole life has been a series on consequences of my allowing others to define me. I admit the fault is my own. If I were as strong as I have hoped I would be, I would never have allowed all the grief thrown my way.
I started taking notes on a long forgotten project I promised myself I would work on. I’m using these notes to transform them into a graphic novel script. I hope that JD doesn’t mind the sudden shift in genre. I texted him on Friday during the birthday celebration to ask if he’d still be interested. Apparently the guy’s going in for surgery. Pesky gall bladders. Seems like everyone has theirs failing them.
Once he’s back on his feet, I hope to at least have some character stats to help him create what they should look like. What sort of clothes they wear, etc. I also want to contact Donovan about something on the side, but for now I think JD is the best person to have for this project. And I’m not just saying that, I truly mean it. Donovan’s a great artist, but he deserves something that is more in tuned to his craft – if you’re reading this, I don’t know how you’re taking all of it, but trust me, it’s a compliment.
I think I’ll tell “Squares” in twelve chapters, each focusing on a single central character so that the plot of the entire book doesn’t get fucked. To be honest, I was going to call the project “The Damaged Fuckers,” but it really has nothing to do with the nature of the project. Because “Squares” was the name of the original project, I thought I should at least keep it for this part. I’ll think of a title later. Maybe, hopefully, come up with one while working with JD.
With Spring Break over and Jyg back at work, I’m hoping to get more things done with our project. I need to keep active. If I start resting, chances are I’ll just allow myself to die.
I’m going to need to figure out a way to do this spray painting task without getting it on my fingers. Not to mention, find a place to do it without the wind blowing crap on the items. Prototype bottle has been made. Now I just need something to stick on and we have ourselves something to play with.
Let’s not forget the headache from the spray paint, by the way. I put on a bandana to keep from breathing in the fumes – probably going to need something way better than that – and took wood shop goggles for my eyes, though I didn’t use them.
I still haven’t used the toy Binx got me for my birthday, nor read the book that Jyg bought me (see here). I should get to that.