Blog Archives
Everything Isn’t Going To Be OK
I have a life mantra, a simple phrase that encodes and distills my own personal philosophy and a guideline for how I live my life. Many of us do, a sort of inspirational and motivational quote we pin on the corkboards of our hearts, something we turn to in times both dark and light. Most of those mantras came from wise and revered people, like Ghandi, or Martin Luther King, or Michelle Obama, or Mark Twain, or Dorothy Parker, or someone considered to be deep and learned or witty. Thinkers, philosophers, the lights of the human spirit.
My life’s philosophy comes from a terrible head coach of the Washington Redskins, a man unprepared and ill-equipped to run a team of people who run around and play for a living while sacrificing their physical and mental health for entertainment. A man who is little-remembered for good reason, and certainly isn’t wise, not even in a football sense. The saying that I hold as my guidepost to surviving life was espoused by a man whose signature playcall for the sportsball team I follow was this:
My guru is Jim Zorn.
I am 23 Times More Popular in Vietnam Than Luxembourg
I’m a little bit of a stats obsessive. I love them. I think it’s one of the reasons why I enjoy football so much – stats are like the little milestones that let you say “Hey, neat, this thing that happens hundreds of times a year is slightly different than the other times!”. I don’t memorize stats, though, which is for Rain Man and baseball fans. I just like seeing them, thinking “well isn’t that interesting”, and moving on with my life. If I could have a bunch of people following me all day – or, well, maybe an app or something, because that could get creepy as hell after a while – I’d totally do it, just so I could get information about the things I do and compare them to my average score and the population at large. Couple that with an announcing team or NFL Films guy or – especially – Colby from Top Shot and I’d be in heaven. “Will you look at this! He has been urinating for 37 seconds already, well past his average time of 29.73 seconds! Could his all-time record be in jeopardy?” This would be awesome in every way.
Yes, this is another post about my blog site stats. Sorry.
The World Really Wants to Know About Sophia
Yes, they do. Yes, she is. Yes, it’s a barn.
I’ve mentioned this before, but I underestimated the burning nature of the world’s thirst for knowledge about Sophia and whether or not she was ever found. Ever since The Walking Dead’s season 3 run-up, my blog traffic has tripled. Why? Dunno. Maybe the list of Google search terms for visitors can shed some light on this:
So I Got Tagged With This Lucky Seven Thing And So Here Are “Seven” Lines From Waiting on the Dead
Pretty much on exactly the same day that I got picked for my incredibly prestigious award (I’m still waiting for my statuette. I get a statuette, right?), I also got hit with something else. No, not the bus that many people have waited years for, but something that’s actually pretty cool. I’ll let the awesome Candice Bundy explain:
The rules for this one are quite simple:
- Go to page 77 of your current ms.
- Go to line 7.
- Copy down the next 7 lines/sentences, and post them as they’re written. No cheating.
- Tag 7 other victims, …er, authors.
Also available in an attractive v-neck for the ladies!
In her post, she asked, as an offal lover, for a bit of Waiting on the Dead. Her request hit me at a pretty difficult time in my writing. In short, I hate it. I’m good with the blog posts, but halfway through the editing of The Storm of Northreach I just hit the wall. It’s not good enough. I’m not good enough to fix it. You know, the typical angsty writer bullshit that every one of us whiny little narcissists go through periodically. Well, fine, that THIS whiny little narcissist goes through from time to time. I’m trying to get through it, there are a couple of things that need to be addressed, and part of it has nothing to do with writing but involves the other production shit and WHINE WHINE WHINE I WANT A PONY.
I hope to be over that soon.
I’ve Received an Award That Didn’t Come From Me!
It’s official. There are no blogs left that haven’t already received this particular award. Know why I know it? Because I’ve been given the award. Now, we can retire the prize for good, because if this shitty little corner of the Internet has gotten the award then clearly there was no one else left who hasn’t already gotten it. That’s right, folks, it’s official. I have received the Versatile Blogger Award. For everyone who said that my writing would amount to nothing, I say HA! You’re right. BUT… I have this award.
That’s right, bitches. Along with my numerous Aravan Awards, I’m now a Versatile Blogger.
Welcome to the Blog Home of Tabula Rasa, Indie Author
Welcome to my blog. What you see is what you get.
Anybody that reads my blog with any frequency knows what an eclectic mess of random subjects and styles and curse words it is. Everything is just strewn around everywhere, making my blog a hoarder’s living room. Exercise reviews lay piled up on NFL season discussions, writing “advice” tossed all over a collection of Walking Dead reviews so filled with vitriol that a puddle of green ooze is slowly spreading from them, all with an occasional sprinkling of excerpts from my work like rat droppings behind the cardboard boxes of everything else. It’s a mess. And like any committed hoarder, I refuse to clean it up. I don’t care how many experts tell me I should. I am going to remain here, squatting in the fetid morass of my own filth. Well, filthy collection of random thoughts, rants, reviews, and bouts of whining.
Oh, and it’s all my opinion, just like this piece here. It might be wrong, but it’s wrong with a string of eff-words splattered all over it.
Of course, this means I’m Doing It Wrong.
Winter in Derenemyn 