Lazzzzy

English: the lazy barnstar. created to award m...

My mother used to tell me all the time how lazy I was. It rated right up there with selfish and stealing as an unforgivable sin. I hated it when she called me lazy. There are so many implications in that word, all of them negative, and none of them that I wanted to apply to me.

But now that I’m older, I admit it. I suffer from extreme bouts of laziness at times.

There are some days when I’m absolutely unstoppable. I start early and check off my To Do list in short order, no matter how difficult. I get everything done before noon and then celebrate with reruns and Internet porn all afternoon.

And then there are days when I am so filled with don’t-want-to that I’m still working at nine o’clock at night because I refuse to leave a To Do list unfinished. The effort that it takes just to get started is more than I want to expend, even though I know that once I get going, I’ll get it all done in no time.

It is laziness, I know. Don’t-want-to laziness that I’ve carried with me all of my life. In my head, all of the projects seem bigger and harder than they really are. I think about how much I don’t feel like doing something and so I put it off until I can’t put it off any more. And then when I finally get around to doing whatever it is, I get it done in less time and usually with less difficulty than I imagined and I kick myself in the ass for not getting it done and over with sooner.

For example, I need to do my taxes. But I don’t feeeeeel like it. I know it’s not difficult. I know it’d probably only take me 20-30 minutes to get it all done. My taxes have never been that complicated. I might as well just get it done and over with.

But, like I said. I don’t feeeeeel like it.

That feeling rules me sometimes. That kind of laziness. I don’t feel like it so I don’t. Sometimes I make myself. Sometimes I don’t have a choice. But, if I have a choice, then I’ll make the choice to put it off.

So, yeah, my mother was right. I am lazy. I’ll probably always be lazy.

But so long as I have those excellent productive days, I’ll keep breaking even.

Even when I don’t feeeeeel like it.

Writing–Writing, Like Parenting

writing santa 11.30.09 [334]

No, I don’t have kids. But I know enough parents that I think that I’m qualified to make this comparison. Other writers have. Why should I be left out just because I don’t have any kids?

Oh, but I do.

My stories are like my children in a way.

I gave birth to them. I nurtured them, sometimes getting up in the odd hours to make notes or jot something down, not going out with friends to stay home with the story, and worrying about it when I’m working on something else.

I do my best to raise them right, try to bring out the best in them, encourage their strengths and try to improve their weaknesses.

I get annoyed by them, aggravated by their unceasing demands for attention when all I want to do is take a five minute break. I get frustrated when they won’t do what I want them do and sometimes, I just don’t like them very much.

But, in the end, I love them. And there comes a time when I have to hope that all of my hard work will be rewarded when I send them out into the world. I have to hope that others will read them and know them and love them as I have. I have to hope that the world will be kind and they will be accepted.

And then I thank my lucky stars that they’re only stories. They don’t have feelings, so they can’t be beaten down by rejection because they’re likely to get rejected a lot. That’s the way of the writing world.

However, they also don’t ask for money. If it all works out right, they make me money. And it’s legal.

Sorry, parents.

Name That Tune

Fast musical notes on a music sheet

The other day my niece, the middle one, asked me what my all-time favorite song was. Without hesitation I answered.

“Sunny Girlfriend by The Monkees.”

“I don’t know that one,” she said. “What’s your second all-time favorite song?”

“As We Go Along by The Monkees.”

Frustrated, she sighed loudly as nine year olds in that house are prone to do and said, “What’s your all-time favorite song that’s NOT by The Monkees?”

Now, had she not put that stipulation on it, I was readily prepared to answer “You Told Me”, but with that stipulation, I had to think.

And I found myself stumped. Put on the spot like that I couldn’t think of one song that I could call my favorite that wasn’t by The Monkees.

The question has since haunted me.

I love music. I’m not one of those snobby, educated music lovers. I just like music, period. If I like the tune, put it in my ears and I’ll groove. I like all kinds of stuff. Country, rock, hip hop, rap, pop, whatever. Name a genre and I can probably think of a song in it that I like. There are very few artists that I can honestly say I don’t like. Most of the time it’s just because they haven’t put out a song yet that I like. I even like a Nickelback song. I’m still waiting on Justin Beiber to do something I want to hear, though.

The point is that a music lover such as myself, with such non-discriminating tastes, whose iPod plays 80’s synth then Southern rock then big band then gangsta rap then disco should be able to think of a favorite song that’s NOT The Monkees.

I couldn’t do it and I still can’t. Not really.

The closest I could come to answering the question was hours later when “Car Wash” by Rose Royce came on the radio. That’s a song that I will drop everything to groove to. It makes me want to put on booty shorts and roller skates. I love that song.

But, though I love it, I couldn’t think of it when I needed it. So it can’t very well be my favorite non-Monkees song, now could it?

I don’t think I have one. I think my moods dictate my preferences too much. The Monkees are my all-time favorite band so that music isn’t as affected by my whims. Everything else, though, is up for grabs.

And you know what? I kind of prefer it that way.

If the middle niece asks again, that’s what I’ll tell her.

I bet she sighs.

Rerun Junkie– The Wild Wild West

Three in the afternoon was a dead zone for me. There really weren’t any reruns that I wanted to watch, so I’d usually just put on Me-TV until my next round came on, putting the TV on mute and listening to the radio (oldies, of course) while I worked and waited.

It just so happens that The Wild Wild West is on at three. And after several weeks of looking up to see what was going on and being completely baffled by what was onscreen, I turned on the sound. That didn’t always help, but what I did find was a new rerun for me to love.

The Wild Wild West

The show features secret service agents James West (Robert Conrad), our dashing and daring hero, and his partner Artemus Gordon (Ross Martin), a master of disguise and gadgets, as they do the bidding of President Grant in the 1870’s, protecting him and the country from various fiends and schemes. They travel the country on a special train that’s stocked with every gadget they might need, most of which didn’t come into existence until after the time. And no matter how busy they were saving the country, they always found time to romance a girl or three (seriously, I don’t know how they found the time to do their sworn duty with all the tail they got). It’s a Western with a steampunk/Bond flavor.

The one real repeated villain the show had was Dr. Miguelito Loveless (Michael Dunn), a brilliant but dangerous and slightly mad man who often went to toe to toe with James West and though his plans were often spoiled, he always managed to get away. He was usually accompanied by his companions Voltaire (Richard Kiel) and Antoinette (Phoebe Dorin). Oh, and Dr. Loveless just so happened to be a little person.

Though the show was primarily an action gig, there was comedy supplied from the wit and quips of James and Artemus, usually poking at each other. It added a nice balance to all the death defying and saving of the country. The chemistry between Robert Conrad and Ross Martin is really quite delightful and makes the episodes without Mr. Martin more noticeable (Mr. Martin had a near-fatal heart attack during the fourth season and was replaced by Charles Aidman, Alan Hale Jr., and William Schallert for several episodes while he recovered). The replacement agents were all fine, but they just weren’t Artemus Gordon.

They can also pull off fringe and chaps without looking like pro-wrestling gimmicks.
They can also pull off fringe and chaps without looking like pro-wrestling gimmicks.

It’s also worth noting that since this is an action show, the two leads did get in on that action. Mr. Conrad did most of his own stunts until he fell 12 feet from a chandelier and sustained a concussion that ended filming on season 3 a couple of weeks early. Mr. Martin also broke his leg during an episode a few weeks before having his heart attack (though I don’t think he did quite as many of his own stunts as Mr. Conrad). Something you don’t see much of today.

In addition to our favorite villain and fellow agents, other guest stars included Victor Buono, Suzanne Pleshette, Robert Loggia, Harold Gould, Dabs Greer, Boris Karloff, Carroll O’Connor, Burgess Meredith, Ida Lupino, Ricardo Montalban, Robert Duvall, Ed Asner, Harvey Korman, Martin Landeau, James Gregory, and Leslie Nielsen.

This show is fun. Along with the wit and the action, you get some really nifty gadgets, complicated, diabolical plots, James West goes shirtless every other episode, and Artemus Gordon gets to be a dozen different people on any given day. What’s not to love?

Cheers!
Cheers!

 

Where I Watch It

Writing–Musing on Muses

Clio, muse of history, holding writing tablets...

I don’t have a muse.

Other writers talk about having muses. Their muses abandon them and show up in the middle of the night, begging for attention. They show up with nothing but a blank page or they leave them with pages and pages of finished work.

But I don’t have a muse.

I think it’s a neat idea. Like a little, disagreeable fairy that helps channel your creativity. It’s something to blame on the bad days and something to champion on the good days. It makes writing feel a little less lonely to know that there’s this little writing devil with a halo sitting on your shoulder.

But I still don’t have one.

I show up and I write. Some days go better than others, but in the end, it’s just me.

This doesn’t make me any better because I don’t believe in invisible helpers. In fact, I feel a little deficient because I don’t have one. Call me a little jealous. I’d like a little sprite to discuss things with on my writing journeys.

Instead of muses, I just have characters. Some are persistent little things that won’t leave me alone. And I do talk to my characters a lot. I ask them questions and hope they’ll cooperate and answer them. That’s how I develop the stories sometimes. I just sit back, look that character straight in the eye, and ask them, “What gives?”

Okay, all of this takes place in my mind (I save the talking to myself for hashing out dialogue to make sure it sounds real). Sometimes those interviews go well. Sometimes I find out the characters just want to exist and they really don’t want to do anything of interest.

I suppose talking to my characters is the closest I’ll ever get to having a muse. They show up, kind of like a muse does, and they help me write their stories. Sometimes they’re more helpful than other times. Sometimes they can be really annoying pricks.

But in the end, when it comes to the actual work, they step back and let me put fingers to keys and pen to paper. When it comes to the actual work, it’s all on me. I’ve got no muse to bail me out there.

Which is a shame. Some days, I could use it.

Rerun Junkie– “Hookman” Old and New

WARNING: SPOILERS! For both episodes, though you’ve had 35 years to watch the original one, so really, you’ve got no legitimate bitch.

Hawaii 5-0

Let’s get a few things out of the way right from the beginning. This isn’t going to be a battle between the two series to see which one is better. It’s not going to be that kind of comparison. It’s just for my own amusement to see how the new one redid the old one. That’s it. And it should also be noted that I’ve only seen one episode of the new Hawaii Five-0 and that was because Ed Asner was reprising his role from the original Hawaii Five-O. So my knowledge of the new series is minimal at best, but I do have a basic understanding of the new cannon by way of the Interwebs and it seems the show is very respectful in many ways to the original and I can appreciate that.

So, with that out of the way, let’s get this showboat on the river.

In the original episode, a double amputee with hooks for hands (played by actual double amputee Jay. J. Armes) shows some deft dexterity in assembling rifles, engraving little name plates, and, oh yeah, shooting the cops that were involved in the bust up of a bank robbery that cost him his hands. Naturally, Steve McGarrett is on that hit list.

In the new episodes, a double amputee with robo hands (played by Peter Weller…aka…RoboCop) also shows some deft dexterity in assembling semi-automatic weaponry, engraving names on bullet casings, and, oh yeah, shooting the cops that were involved in the bust up of a bank robbery that cost him his hands. Naturally, this Steve McGarrett is on that hit list because his father was one of the cops and, well, he’s dead now and someone needs to pay this vengeance tab.

The episodes are quite similar. Tip of the hat to Mr. Weller, who directed the episode. He did a great job of making the new version so like the old version, including shooting in some of the same locations. The opening sequence is nearly shot for shot like the original which put me, the Rerun Junkie, into a good mood right off. I was please to see how much of the original was basically just updated, but kept for the new version.

Now, of course there are differences. Different times, different technology, different cannon, there has to be.

Old Hawaii 50 CastFirst of all, there’s the cast. And I’m not talking about Kono being a woman, though I am talking about Kono. The original “Hookman” aired during the 6th season. Kono (Zulu) departed in the fourth season and was replaced by Ben Kokua (Al Harrington), so Ben instead of Kono helped bring down Hookman.

There was more personal drama shown in the new version. In the original, Jack Lord got it across with a few words and some inflection that this was personal business on a certain level, not just because fellow officers were being killed, but because they were friends of his. That’s how much of the personal drama was done on the old show, shown throughout the investigation in little ways. The new show devoted a couple of whole scenes to the personal drama.

The new show also dedicated a whole scene to showing Hookman hooking up the ex-con with the weapon that he used in the shootout that Hookman used to kill his second victim. In the original, you didn’t see any of that. We found ourselves at a shootout with Danno, thinking they had the sniper (the ex-con was a white, kinda redneck looking guy in the original). Both guys were smoked out and killed and both Ookala’s were mistakenly thought to be shot by the ex-con and then later it was revealed to be incorrect, though in the original it was after autopsy instead of on-scene.

Speaking of the victims, the first two are the same in the original and new version, Keoke and Ookala, but in the original, the third victim is Thompson who is killed off-screen, not Duke, who is wounded off-screen. (Or, as I say whenever he appears on-screen in the original Duuuuuuuuke!)

Since the new Hookman was leaving behind engraved casings instead of rifles with engraved nameplates (you can’t just leave behind weaponry at crime scenes these days, people will swipe them; back then you could leave just about anything lying around with no worries, guns, kids, cars, whatever), McGarrett and Danno ended up going to a gun shop instead of a jeweler’s to get shot at, a sensible change. New Hawaii 50 Cast

Finding the Hookman ended up being different, too. In the original, they deduced that a double amputee probably didn’t have a whole lot of job options so he probably lived in the poor part of town. That sort of thing probably isn’t considered politically correct today and double amputees probably have more job opportunities today than they did in the 70’s anyway. It was a mailbox record that led them to Hookman in the new version.

The one big complaint I have about the new version is the final raid and shootout, yet another difference. In the original, McGarrett goes into Hookman’s apartment alone and looks around in complete silence. He sees the engraving equipment, the police radio, the plaques on the walls with the news paper clippings with the bold headlines of the killed cops. Then the phone rings, breaking the silence. It’s startling because the tension builds so gradually you don’t notice just how tense it’s getting.

The new version was a rush to the ending. The search of the apartment was conducted by everybody, the phone ringing wasn’t nearly as jarring, there was no opportunity for tension, which is a shame.

The final shootout went down pretty much the same way with the exception of there being no Ben to draw fire (seriously, McGarrett’s like, “Ben, on the count of five, stick your head out and get shot at so I can get to the car”) and Kono taking the kill shot instead of Danno. And then there was Hookman’s death. In the original, the rifle fell to the pavement while Hookman flail-collapsed on the roof. The rifle smashed and there was this moment of McGarrett looking at this gun with his name on it. It had a serious emotional weight to it.

In the new version, Hookman smashed to the pavement and the emotionally weighted moment was reserved for McGarrett talking to his dead father and the two dead officers and I was kinda like, Bzuh? Is this his thing? Does he often see his dead dad at the end of the day? I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t watch the show, so it’s entirely possible that this moment could be quite poignant. But I really liked the poetic feel of the original ending better.

However, don’t confuse my disappointment in the ending with dissatisfaction. As much as it bummed me out that the endings weren’t more alike, the similarities they did keep in the episode were quite pleasing. The O’s in the engravings were the tip-off. Mr. Weller did a wonderful job as Hookman (even though he talked more than the original) and the similarities in the apartment and the engraving scene were fabulous. Also the little things, like the ex-con falling over the railing after being shot, a green mustang being used as Hookman’s getaway car, the hand left hanging onto the steering wheel, those little details showed just how dedicated they were to really doing the episode right and doing it with extreme reverence to the original. All the credit in the world for that kind of care.

I’m actually quite pleased with how the new version stacks up against the original. I really didn’t think they’d do as well as they did.

I do believe the folks running the new Hawaii Five-0 have a rerun junkie in their midst. And I appreciate that.

Writing–February Projects

English: rose bunch, Rosa sp. cultivars, flowe...

The revisions on The World (Saving) Series continues. I’m making progress and I’ve been pleasantly surprised at how some chapters are in better shape than others and how many of them are in better shape than I remember. My goal to be able to call this manuscript done by the end of the year is looking promising.

Work on the sooper sekrit project also continues. It’s being upgraded from the morning project that kills time while I’m minding the kid two or three days a week (because I’m off that job for the month while the kid spends the month with his mom while grandma is vacationing in Florida) and I expect to make some significant progress on it by working on it more than a couple of days a week. I’d like to have the barest bones of the whole business done by the end of the month so I can definitely see what I’ve got going for me.

The big project this month, though, will be revising Night of the Nothing Man from a novel to a novella. Considering the strains I made fleshing it out to make sure I hit 50,000 words, cutting won’t be much of a problem. Really getting that story to be what I want it to be might take a little more work, but I’m still hoping to get it done by the end of the month. I’d like to be able to put it out on Smashwords by March.

The month is just a few days shorter, but I’m going to try to pack them as full as I can. I’ve got a lot going on and I’ve got a feeling I’m just going to be adding more to my plate. At the very least, there’s going to be a lot of idea jotting. I’ve been getting hitting hard with that lately, but I’m having trouble penciling all of them in, so they have to wait.

When it rains, it pours, and I’ve been caught in an idea deluge.

I hope my umbrella holds.

That Personal Line

Sand

I mentioned in my last Megalomania post that I’ve got an imaginary line drawn in some imaginary sand in regards to what I will and will not share on the blog.  And I will be the first to admit that it’s a confusing, variable line. More like a squiggle, really.

I have no trouble letting the world know that there are a lot of bad words that apply to me, but I shy away from really getting into the extent to which they apply. For example, I’m paranoid and I know it, but I hesitate to get into how paranoid I can be and what things I can be paranoid about. I want you to take my word for it, I suppose. To go into any more detail is just too revealing. It opens up the thick skin I’ve developed just a little too much.

There are things that other people would consider personal that I have no trouble talking about. My boobs for instance. I’ve done several blog posts about my boobs and my reduction surgery. Ask me any question about my titties and more than likely, I’ll have an unembarrassed answer ready for you. While some women (most women, dare I say) would consider their bosoms to be off-topic, mine have been sliced and stitched and pierced and seen and drawn on, so there’s really no secrets left for them to have. I might as well talk about them.

But ask me about what I’m writing right now and I’ll probably be pretty vague in my answer (once I get over the shock of someone asking me what I’m writing because that doesn’t happen very often). It’s partially a jinx thing. I’m afraid I’ll jinx myself by talking about a project that’s not ready to be talked about. It’s also a personal thing. To talk about what I’m writing is to open myself up for judgment and I think I get judged enough as it is.

Hell, it’s only been recently that I’ve started to really come clean and willingly offer up that I am a writer. Period. Everything else I do is to support that career goal. It’s made for some interesting job interviews.

I’ll talk all about being single and bisexual and that sort of thing, but don’t ask me who I’m attracted to or who I have a crush on now because you’re not going to get that from me. I even shy away from admitting to celebrity lusts. That sort of thing, I think, shows too much of my heart and I’d really rather not have it broken. Or even bruised. Give me a writing rejection over a personal rejection any day.

I imagine it’s confusing for people reading this blog. She’ll talk about this, but not that. Hey, I thought she was supposed to be honest. Why won’t she say this, this, and this?

I can only say so much, you know? And I don’t want to talk about what makes me uncomfortable. Because that gets transmitted in the post and I don’t want to make any of the few folks reading this blog uncomfortable, too.

I’m awkward enough in my life. I need one place where I’m not. Let that place be here.

Hopefully, you guys don’t feel awkward here, too.

Writing–Does My Productivity Look Lacking In This?

English: Slalom race in urban street Italiano:...

I know I shouldn’t compare myself to other people, but I do it anyway. I’ve gotten better about not comparing my work to that of other writers (thought I still have my jealousies and wish I could do certain things as well as others), but when it comes to the process, I can’t help but compare.

I judge myself harshly when it comes to comparing my productivity to others. I feel like I’m never working hard enough/fast enough/producing enough. I feel like a right slacker compared to the other writers I know/follow/interact with. On Twitter, I see the word/page/project output and I look at mine and think it’s a good thing I talk more about reruns than I do about my writing.

I know I should just be pleased with what I can get done. Any progress counts. But I can’t help but hold myself to a much higher, sometimes unrealistic standard.

For example, working The World (Saving) Series revisions, I think I should be working much harder and much faster on it. Except I’m SUPPOSED to be going slow. I made a conscious decision to go slow so I won’t rush myself, so I’ll pay more attention, so I won’t feel pressured.

Yet here I am, pressuring myself because I see other people doing more.

Writing is a very individual process. What works for one person doesn’t work for another. What speed works for one person doesn’t work for another. I forget that. I want to be done like yesterday and I want to be done twice as fast as the person next to me.

It’s not even a question of making it an active competition or trying to be better than anyone else. That’s just where my standards lie. I don’t want to look like a slacker to the writers I associate with. I want them to respect my productivity.

It’s a silly ego thing and I fight with them all the time. I can only go as fast as I can go and I can only do as much as I can do. I shouldn’t be ashamed of that. I should own up to what I can do.

So while others are doing theirs, I need to remember to mind mine and ONLY mine.

I’ll work better that way.