Running (on empty) to stand still

Man, a week or so ago I was on a roll when it came to writing. I was doing a blog post a day and getting a couple hundred words or so on my book, all of which I did after writing some stories for work. And now?

Damn you, writer's block kitteh! Damn you, and your cuteness!

What are the possible reasons for this? Lack of creative energy is one, no motivation is another. Yet another? I’m burned out right now. Running ragged, needing about a month to sleep off my recent schedule.

This guy with the stylish office knows what I mean.

I’ve worked each of the past two Saturdays, including six days straight last week, and I need a breather. Luckily I’m not working this weekend, just as luckily as I am to have a job.

That’s about it for this post, too tired to do more or to care about links. Also, “The Stand” miniseries is pretty good, even after reading the book.

What makes up a literary character?

This is quickly becoming my default picture for posts about writing.

Like I blogged about yesterday, I’m trying to write a novel. I’m making decent progress, but I realized I don’t have physical descriptions of my characters, which got me thinking:

How much of a literary character’s image is dependent on a physical description, and how much is dependent on the character’s actions and personality?

I know there has to be a balance, but I’m not sure what the balance should be. Memorable literary characters generally stay with me because of what they do, not how they look. Sure, Ahab may have had a peg leg, but his most memorable characteristic was his insatiable lust for revenge.

I can’t tell you what anyone from “The Stand” looked like, but I know what they did. Ditto “Fight Club,” “Disgrace” and countless other novels and short stories.

What’s the general consensus, if there is one, on this?

I hope to have this problem one day…

Soon to be an endangered species?

There was a good article on Salon.com today about the plight of authors who are trying to establish themselves in today’s literary climate. Even though just about every journalist/English minor says they’re going to write a book, I really am going to, and one paragraph in particular from Laura Miller‘s article was especially disheartening:

“It has become a mantra that today’s author — whether self- or conventionally published — must learn to promote his or her books … People often become writers because they’re introverted or awkward in personal encounters and have poured everything they want to say to the world into their work. What usually gets lost in the perpetual refrain about authors becoming their own marketers is that there’s no particular connection between writing talent and a gift for self-promotion.”

That sums up, almost perfectly, my personality, why I like to write instead of be on camera or on the radio. There was one part of Miller’s article, discussing Harper Lee, which I disagreed with:

“Today’s conventional wisdom, in both traditional and indie publishing, decrees that someone like Lee might as well not bother; however good her book is, it won’t find an audience unless she’s willing and able to make hocking it at least a part-time job … What this means for readers is troubling. Even if the next generation’s ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ gets published, the author’s inability to promote it effectively may prevent it from reaching the millions of readers who would otherwise embrace it.”

I tend to think great literature, or even appealing writing, will inevitably find an audience. For example, Philip K. Dick, Franz Kafka, H.P. Lovecraft and countless other writers died in obscurity and penniless, but their work eventually found its audience. Of course they died before they reaped the benefits of their work, but that can happen in virtually any profession.

Oh well, I need to finish that book before I start thinking about promoting it or anything like that…

Also, Cindi has pink eye, I’m hoping to not catch it.

If I wake up and my eye is like this in the morning, the woman and I will have some words...

Lazy Sunday Roundup

I worked yesterday, and it’s back to work tomorrow, so today I’ve done as little as possible. And I just took a two-plus hour nap, oh yeah.

However, I have spent some time perusing the Internet and watching stuff on Netflix and, since I’m trying to blog everyday, here’s some of what I’ve been thinking.

Seriously, how cool would it be to write about this for a living?

An op-ed piece in the New York Times today reaffirmed what I’ve long suspected: Space is really freaking cool. I think my ultimate dream job might be to write about outer space for a living, because it’s so damn cool.

Dystopia: At least we aren't there yet.

Dystopian fiction, of all kinds, has always been another fascination of mine, probably because it makes the world seem a little less worse off by comparison.

One of my favorite dystopian flicks, “Starship Troopers,” has been horribly underrated since its release, but the A.V. Club does a great job explaining why it’s such a great film and so ahead of its time.

Dear potential landlords: Philip K. Dick liked cats, why don't you?

According to a highly reputable source, Philip K. Dick wrote 68 pages per day. Sure, he might have been on amphetamines, but you gotta admire that productivity. Can’t say I’m too wild about eating pet shop horse meat to survive though…

On that note, I need to get to the grocery store so I can make some awesome chicken burritos later. Win.

Our hunt for affordable housing

With my current luck, each of those houses would cost at least $875 per month to rent one floor. And utilities wouldn't be included.

Even though it might be cliché for a struggling writer to live on the street, it’s not something I have any desire to experience. But it’s getting harder and harder to be optimistic about finding someplace to live in Martinsburg or the surrounding area.

Where Cindi and I are living now is nice, in its own way, but it’s not a place we want to stay if we can help it. The rent is cheap, especially for how big the apartment is, but we’re in an old house that’s horribly energy inefficient.

On top of our outrageous electric bills during the winter, it was as impossible to keep warm during the winter as it was to stay cool during the summer.

The biggest obstacle we’re facing while we’re looking is finding an apartment, townhouse or house to rent with a rent we can afford. Cindi and I aren’t impoverished, but I have student loans to pay, which hampers my income. I’d still hesitate to pay $900 or more in rent each month, even without loan payments.

We also make too much to live in any low-income housing I’ve found. Awesome.

Another tough spot we’re running into is pet policies. I can understand some places not allowing misbehaved dogs, but we have Isis, a cat who’s too fat to cause much trouble.

A solution to our problem might be to buy a house and make the mortgage payments, which would be cheaper than rent for most places, but I can’t see much of a point in buying a house and not knowing for sure if we’ll be living in the same area in four or five years.

If anyone living in the Eastern Panhandle reads this and can suggest an affordable apartment, townhouse or house to rent, one that allows cats, please let me know. Thanks!

Wes makes everything OK

Thanks to The A.V. Club, I was able get some much needed news on one of my favorite directors today.

I know not everyone likes Anderson’s films as much as I do, which is probably nowhere near as much as Wes like his films, but the guy does have gorgeous style.

And I’ve heard most of the complaints about Anderson: That he’s all style, no substance, his films are needlessly quirky and that there are hints of racism in some of his films, but … I don’t, I adore his films.

Whether Anderson is introducing his ensemble cast or pairing a scene with just the right classic song, each frame of his pictures oozes Andersonian style.

Take, for example the clip below:

See? Marvelous.

Two of my favorite film characters.

The fact that Schwartzman is joining the cast is a major plus, because the guy was spectacular in “Hotel Chevalier,” “The Darjeeling Limited” and, of course, “Rushmore.”

Plus, Bill Murray is going to be in the picture, and you could never have enough Bill Murray, even if you were surrounded by Bill Murray at Bill Murray Con ’11. Which must happen.

The Perils of Press

This 1920s-era journalist would probably not comprehend today's journalism world. Too few alcohol-fueled deadline stories would be a main reason for this.

I found an interesting brief online today, confirming what I, and numerous other journalists, can readily attest to: Our jobs are difficult and we are, generally, underappreciated.

Don’t get me wrong, I usually enjoy my job at The Journal, the people I work with and most of the people in the community I cover. However, there are some days I can really sympathize with what’s in the above link.

Journalists are required to walk a thin line between required productivity, the pressure to be the first to break news, the responsibility to produce error-free and balanced work and the knowledge that our work is usually unappreciated.

But there are days where, after I’ve had a story run, I’ll get calls from people in the community or from beyond the community, thanking me for the story. For a couple weeks after this story, I was contacted by numerous people asking how they could help the wounded soldier raise money for his recovery.

Then there was this story, dealing with a temporary stop to the PATH project, and members of a local anti-PATH group said they were happy with my reporting on the subject.

While journalism can be tremendously stressful, days like those can make up for the bad times. And for anyone in J-School or considering a career in journalism, I’ll quote one of my favorite guilty pleasure movies: “Head up, young person, head up.”

I wish the brief I linked to had a link to the actual study it’s citing, and if anyone reading this has a link to the study, please post it in the comment section.

Titles are not my strength…

Dalek Steam, the mythical "Fifth Member" of the Cult of Skaro, welcomes you.

Hello to everyone who might be reading this, all two of you. Hopefully I can bump that number up by convincing my Mom to get home Internet.

I’m a recent journalism grad trying to get by and excel in an industry with a, shall we say, bleak outlook. This blog isn’t some great journalistic exercise, it’s just a way for me to express myself through writing. Trust me, no one wants me to express myself through song or interpretive dance.

I was once told that, without a unique focus, blogs are basically white noise. Despite this, I’m going to hold off on thinking about a focus because, for now, I’m happy with white noise so long as it’s my white noise.

I won’t bore anyone reading this with a long, drawn-out list of what I like and don’t like, because that’s kind of pointless. I’ll let my future posts speak for themselves.

I’ll also try to have more visually stimulating posts in the future, but I’m still getting used to my netbook. That, and I really don’t want to continue with this post because the Pandorica is opening. Now Daleks are talking, FTW.