Writing Ambition

Having seen D4D™ hit its fifth birthday recently has made me start doing a fair amount of thinking. Well, it’s more the combination of D4D™ being five, and watching “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip“. Which just makes things even weirder.

One of the things that I wanted to do with D4D™ when I started it was to build up my writing. I used to do a lot of writing of other stuff, and along the way I churned out two novel-length (OK, if I’m honest, one novel-length, one novella-length) pieces of work. At the time they were more about therapy than anything else, but they were OK – and Herself had copies of both of them from when I initially did them. I re-read them recently and while they’re not good exactly – there’s stuff that’s too self-referential and/or indulgent, and a lot of it is “of it’s time”, shall we say – nor are they bad, either.

Anyway, along the way, D4D™ has become a bit of an entity of its own. I’ve written (at the time of doing this piece) some 4,500 posts over five years, amounting to just under 630,000 words- not including the rants and thoughts. A fair amount of it is crap, obviously – but with a fair amount of OK and good stuff thrown into the mix too. (He said, modestly) But at the same time, D4D™ is a greedy beast, and I spend more time writing odds and sods for here , which means that rather than fuelling the drive, impetus and maybe even need to write, instead it’s become the outlet, and that requirement to write is the fuel for D4D™ instead.

And where does Studio 60 come into it? Simple, really. Aaron Sorkin is one of my writing gods – I absolutely adore West Wing, and I think Studio 60 is another part of that pantheon, although I can also understand why it got canned after one season.

Over the weekend, Gordon pondered what would we do if we won the lottery. The thing I would do in that circumstance would be to take a year completely out of work (well, out of paid work, anyway) and instead use that time to put fingers to keyboard, and work to bring about some of the writing ideas that’ve taken up residence in my head over the years.

And that’s the dream, really. A life/job where the creative side takes precedence, so that I can both write and take photos for a living. The odds are fairly long that I’ll ever get there, although I still want to try.

But if I’m going to do that, perhaps D4D™ needs to go on pause, so that I have to find another outlet for the writing. It’s not going to happen just yet, but it’s something to think about. And it’s something I am thinking about. I don’t know whether it would work, but it’s something that I might just have to try…


Post Of The Week

Post of the Week

It’s been a while since I’ve written about this, but Post Of The Week has been fading a bit recently, and needs people to go and nominate some decent posts.

So go on, have a look at blogs, and nominate some posts!

THE MISSION.

  • To highlight great writing on personal blogs.
  • To draw attention to blogs that you might not have heard of before.
  • To point you to one absolute guaranteed humdinger of a blog post, once a week, every week.

Finally, and almost a year after the idea was first mooted, Post of the Week (Dot Com, no less) is ready for public display. I bet you never thought you’d live to see the day, did you?

Absolutely everyone everywhere is heartily recommended to do any or all of the following:

  • Nominate cracking good blog posts for inclusion, via the comments box in the “Call for nominations” section.
  • Volunteer their services as a guest judge, for one weekend only.
  • Publicise the site on their own blogs. Pimp it, kids. Pimp it HARD.

When I Grow Up

One of the classic childhood questions is “What do you want to be when you grow up?“. It’s something I still ask myself with depressing regularity.
As it is, I’m fortunate enough to be in a role I actually enjoy – by which I mean the website writing, database guff etc., rather than ‘the role/company I’m in is the one I’m going to stay with forever’ – and which I do in my spare time as well as in a full-time job. Yes, I would prefer to be chainging it slightly, and be working more for myself instead of in the more corporate environs, but that’s something I’ll work on now that other parts of life are rather more settled.
But there are other things hovering on the periphery, too.
In many ways I would love to be a writer – I think that’s probably the same for most bloggers, to be honest – although d4d™ would never get a book deal. I’m at least vaguely realistic on that – d4d™ is too scattered, it doesn’t really have a defined theme. I’m not knocking those bloggers who have managed to get book deals (well, except for Belle Du Jour, but I never read that one in the first place, and never really understood the hype around it, if I’m honest) and I think people like Scary, Reynolds, Girl, and Waiter Rant absolutely deserve to get those deals. But they all have a theme, and I know d4d™ doesn’t. Then again, it was never intended to. And in many ways it actually emulates my head far too accurately.
All the same, yes, being a writer is something of a dream. It’s something I’m going to work on and attempt to get back into- years ago I wrote two novel-length things, both of which I still have copies of (and, to some degree, cringe now when I re-read them) but they worked. They were more catharsis, and dealing with shit that was in my head and life at the time, and since they’ve been completed, a lot of those issues have been dealt with, so over recent years there just hasn’t been that need to write in the same way. Well, I say that – but then I look at d4d™, and wonder if actually what I need is to take a break from that, and channel the writing energy that goes into d4d™ into something else for a while. But that’s a while off yet – there’s other things in the mental flightplan first.
The other real thing that keeps coming back to me, though, is photography. I’d love to be a photographer, to be able to make a living from that. Again, I need to work on it a lot, and to develop some themes that I can build on. Again, the ideas are there, and in this case the projects I’m thinking of would be longer-term ideas, projects with a theme that would also (I think) be commercially viable.
There’s a couple of others that’d be nice to do to, but that rely on skills I simply don’t have – I’d love to be an artist, or something of that ilk, but absolutely lack the ability to draw anything – but when all’s said and done, it comes down to three or four things, or any combination of them, really. And really in no particular order.

  1. Properly Self-employed
  2. Photographer
  3. Writer
  4. Web Developer

Spoons

I love this : a writer who can go off on a wave of wrath about the simple subject of wooden spoons in the kitchen.

A definite addition to the links on the right, methinks.


The Year So Far – and The Story of The Boy

Well, I promised a piece when I got to the 200,000 mark, and I’ve been thinking about it since. There’s so much that has changed, that has clicked together in the last six months – it’s not just in the timescale since the 100,000 mark, although in some ways that adds a neat delineator to it all too. This post has the potential to be very deep and personal – something I try to avoid to a degree with d4d™, but what the hell, this seems as good a time as any. I may move it later, both to the Thoughts section, and also so it stays at the top of the page come Wednesday night when I’m travelling for a while. Anyway, if you don’t want to read that kind of thing, there’s plenty of silliness and bumnuggets elsewhere.

Back in January, when we welcomed in 2004, things were really quite different. Regular readers will know I was deep in the throes of depression, both seasonal and related to other sources. In many ways I really didn’t see a way out of where I was at the time, and it’s only time that’s got me through that. The kindness of the regulars here helped too, in ways too diverse to mention now – but the thanks and debts are still there for that. I was pretty much resigned to being single throughout the year, that it would pretty much mimic 2003 on that score – and even 2002. As it turned out, I couldn’t have been more wrong, but at the time, well, the light wasn’t even shining in the tunnel.

Since then, so much has changed – not all of it made public on here, but at the same time a lot of it has been implied. New avenues have opened, the potential for whole new vistas. And of course as soon as I’d come to terms with being single, with dedicating this year (and probably next) to sorting out the other things, the creative side that needs its venting points, and working towards those goals, well, everything changed. No, that’s not true – not everything has altered, but the landscape is earth-shatteringly different around those foundations.

I’ve still got a long way to go – self-doubt plagues me, and lack of confidence. Am I doing the right thing? Will it work? No-one knows, and I can’t answer yet. All I can do is work towards these goals, and do my utmost to make things work.

One person has changed whole vistas already, simply by being there. Options that weren’t even considered in January are now possible, feasible, perhaps even probable. Time will tell, but already the plans are grossly deviated from where they were – and I can’t see it as anything but good. Do we run the potential for heart-destroying hurt? Yeah, without a doubt. Is there also the potential for everything to be life-changingly good? Yeah, without a doubt.

However, doubts are something I still have. I’ve known this person for half my life, and always thought that she was beyond me – reasons I won’t go into for now, but yeah, definitely far out of my league. I still find myself thinking “Wow” on occasion. And no, not just on that kind of occasion, but on others too.

Obviously we both carry damage from previous history – and in some cases there’s a lot of it. So much to deal with – and in optimistic times I do feel we’ll get through all of it, overcome the pain, and be able to work well together.

But at other times, well, the boy whose soul and body got rented out reasserts itself, the core that still loathes itself and the things its done in the past. Self-destruction is in abeyance for now, but self-disgust still has its time. The doubts, wondering what she sees in me; the cynicism, that anyone who comes this close really has the keys to the castle, the potential to destroy the remnants inside the walls.

And yet there’s a frozen core still too – a place that hasn’t been visited, hasn’t been thawed in the best part of twenty years. That frozen core has kept me alive, given me the ability to simply cut off any further pain, add it to the icebox, and keep it there. When I’ve split up with people, the pain’s not felt, it’s just cut off, sliced away, and I carry on. I used to think it was hate and revenge – kept ice-cold so it didn’t explode. Now, well, I don’t know what it is. But I know it should be covered in biohazard signs for all to see.

That core scares me – I’ve always had the will, the desire, the need to keep it cold and inaccessible. It’s been a survival kit, the ultimate defence mechanism, enabling me to walk away, to deal with whatever comes next. And now, it’s melting – and the boy at the heart of it is wondering what will happen when the light and heat hits him. He might thaw out too, and perhaps find that the world’s not as bad as he thinks. But he might simply shatter, break into irrecoverable pieces. No-one knows, least of all that boy.

Is all this worth the potential results? Yes, I think so. But the doubts are there – when that core fails, when it’s finally thawed out, what will she think of the person there? The one who carries a shield all the time, who hasn’t let anyone in in a lifetime. The one who knows all the things that have happened, whose pain has possibly never healed?

And that’s it at the end of the day – because I don’t know that that boy is worth it, I don’t see the value that he has in so many other peoples eyes. That boy has seen all the pain and betrayal it’s possible to take and still keep on breathing, that boy has experienced it all. And he’s shit scared of seeing it again.