I Haz A Plan

This post is actually appearing in tandem with my other blog, mainly because I haven’t touched either for a while, and this topic is relevant to both. The issue at stake (mmm, steak) right now is my writing; since the beginning of this semester, what little writing I was doing has slowed to a crawl, but I think I’ve figured out a way to get back on that horse, thanks to technology. Thank you, technology horse.

Anyway, after prepping for courses, teaching those courses, and then evaluating students’ work from those courses, the motivation to write has been beaten right out of me. I wallow in shame at my lack of stamina; however, while the flesh is weak, the mind is still strong and willing. Well, willing anyway. Between blogs, new short story ideas, and The Novel, I’ve usually got quite a few narratives bouncing around in my head—so many that I often find myself thinking, Oh crap, what the hell was that idea about that thing that came to me the other day? The irony in this is that I’ve publicly boasted my habit of not jotting anything down, because if it’s a strong enough or good enough idea, then it’ll “stick,” but my brain has lost its stickiness. It’s like one of those window-crawling toys I had as a kid that lasted approximately half a dozen trips down the window before it just bounced off the glass and landed on the floor every time I threw it. No more sticky. Gone.

So I had to dig down into that crispy decrepitude and figure out some way to get past this, uh, this dry spell (ba-dum bum, crash!). After taking a quick inventory of tangible and intangible assets, I’ve devised a plan based on the resulting list which consists of:

• 6 hours of commute per week (more to come by the end of October),
• 1 laptop with relatively long battery life,
• 1 earpiece headphone w/microphone,
• 1 voice-recognition software application,
• 1 word processing software application,
• 1 audio recording software application (should the previous list item crap out on me).

Using my drive as writing time seems inevitable. My collection of podcasts and audio books is dwindling, and lately I’ve noticed my thoughts wandering off from whatever happened to be playing anyway. Focusing those thoughts on talking through my stories should be the ticket for making progress on this stalled creativity, even if I’m doing something as trivial as filling plot holes, talking myself through character profiles, or even dictating stupid blog posts.

Expect progress reports—probably on the other blog. This one will probably be filled with the stupid dictated posts.

I'm on a low-fat ranch dressing diet.

This summer, I've been teaching two sections of a first-year college composition course, and currently I'm reading through a stack of rough drafts for the last paper of the semester. My progress has been slow. No, it's not because of the heat; I wisely placed my desk next to the AC and have been quite comfortable--strategic fan placement has also helped. It wasn't until just a few minutes ago that it dawned on me what the problem could be.

I'm trying to help them while fighting the urge to make them write like me in the process.

Without realizing it, I've been struggling within to keep from marking up drafts with an overabundance of specifics. I sit down to read each paper and am seeing exactly what I think is wrong and implicitly what I would do to fix it--if it was mine. As an instructor, I should have a pretty good grasp on what makes a scholarly, professional-grade paper, but polishing up these drafts to get to that level is not my job; my job is to guide by suggestion so they do the work, so they learn from the experience.

I guess I'm learning something as well, because it's much more of a challenge than I thought to find that fine line between telling them what to do as opposed to pointing out what they've done and nudging them in the right direction. Off the top of my head, there are a couple issues I can see with this.

First, if I give them a diagrammed walk-through on their edits, the papers come back with minimal errors (assuming they followed directions), and everyone passes with flying colors. Great and good, but I question how much would be learned by just following the recipe in order to get done. I can't help but think that the writing in subsequent classes may suffer as a result. Call me a pessimist, but I doubt it would be long before administration starts to investigate why the average grade in my class is so high and then crashes right afterward.

On the other hand, if my comments are too general, then revisions will most likely be minimal due to confusion and/or frustration, and worse yet, no one has learned anything except that writing sucks because it's so hard. And possibly that the instructor is a jerk because he gives bad grades for no seemingly no reason.

I hear seasoned veterans, those teachers who've been in the trenches for a while, say that it takes time to find a routine. They say it gets faster with experience. I'm not saying I don't believe them; I'm just hoping I don't get to the point where I sway too far one way or the other for the sake of speed.

Focus, Pinky!

This blog, so far, has been a place where I just throw down some random thoughts and then go about my business. I haven't conformed to any sort of structure other than attempts to keep the title as vague or totally unrelated to the actual post as I can, and I really have no plans to change that. A very few posts have been sincere attempts at discussing writing, and I'm afraid that this particular blog may not be the best fit.

I've recently decided to start a new blog dedicated to writing (inspired by Ryan) so that I won't taint the inherent ridiculousness of the Klingon Freak Show. I can't promise to post on a regular basis at the moment, but the chances of frequent posting would probably increase based on feedback. It would be great if anyone felt like visiting--or even better, returning--to join in the discussion. A permanent link to Rather Clueless is in the right-hand column.

Check it out. I've already talked about poop.

We are doomed.

Here's proof.



Crying. Because of a reality show.

To see someone so emotionally invested in a storyline, in a narrative arc, is something I'd trade my left pinkie toe for as a writer (assuming the reaction is due to my work). I'll go so far as to admit that sure, American Idol offers a pseudo-storyline. We* love to rise up as a nation and jeer the delusional and talentless during the initial rounds of auditions--which, by the way, introduced the world to William Hung; a person who is apparently famous despite a distinct lack of talent. You know, like Paris Hilton (too easy). We also love to clear our schedules so we can vote in real time for who stays and who gets the boot.

I get the psychology. It's the same (dis)associative qualities you'd see in a die-hard sports fan, someone who wins when their team wins and loses when they lose. I like to think I can hold a tune once in a while but can also recognize how out of my league I'd be in that crowd. I hate that this video doesn't feel like an atypical response to something that, at base, doesn't amount to much in the grand scheme. Sure, some of the contestants will get the chance at a career and some suits in the music industry will pad their pockets a bit more, but who really gives a shit? Don't tell me; I think I already have a good idea what the answer is.

Call me curmudgeonly (don't call me Shirley), but I'd much rather spend my time watching a movie or series with heartfelt writing and stellar acting. Even if there are elements bordering on outrageous, I want my disbelief to suspend itself without knowledge or effort by me. The transition should be natural.

Based on the very few times I've seen American Idol, not much of it feels natural to me. Maybe that's my problem.

*If you disagree with my view of American Idol, then the "we" means "you." If you agree, then it means "they."

EDIT: The owner of the original video, unsurprisingly, took it down and broke my link. Rather than fire off another rant about general lack of critical analysis, I'll just say that once a video is public, there's a very good chance it will always be public, because someone else has posted it for everyone to see. Welcome to the Internets, noobs.

I like white noise, but this is too much.

It's Wednesday morning, quarter to two (I don't care what time it says I posted this; it's wrong), and I feel like I need to take a walk. The temperature has gone up these past few days, I'm waiting for my next round of summer classes to kick in, and it just feels like time is standing still. It's driving me crazy.

I think I mentioned earlier that I was going to try fasting, and so it's quite possible this scattered mindset is due to me actually giving it a shot these past couple days. I figured this downtime would be the most trying, because really, I hate to be bored, and I also love to eat. Surprisingly, I've done a little writing, a lot of reading, and hardly any eating--we're talking a couple veggies, a bit of popcorn, and a cup of rice with a can of tuna in about 2.5 days (lots of water and a daily multivitamin), and I can already feel a difference in how my body's responding to, well, everything.

This feeling is what I was looking for. There was a stretch of time back in my late teens when I had to choose between paying the rent or buying groceries. Guess which one took priority. Thanks to my two years of working at McDonald's in high school, though, I was able to work some of my old connections and score a sympathy meal once in a while from the "cool" managers. Still, after graduating at 185lbs. (I'm about 6'2"), I was flirting with 170lbs. at one point. I ate a lot of popcorn, cheap yet filling, and I recall one meal consisting of a coffee cup filled with heated spaghetti sauce with a slice of melted cheese on top--no meat.

Hopefully I won't be in a situation like the one I just described anytime soon; like I mentioned, I have some classes coming up in about a week, so there's some income on the horizon. My main motivation is to revisit these sensations as a way to maybe reawaken some old feelings as well as research for my writing. In fact, this goes to show how scattered my thoughts are in this state; I was going to write a bit here about the writing and about ideas I've got cooking (oh, a punned food reference) in my head. Oh well, I've already written enough for now. I think it may be time for that walk and some fresh air.

Not gonna lie; I'll probably go down the street and pick up a late-night Coke and a candy bar, but splurging a little now will help in the long haul.