Reassessing goals and timelines

We all know there are many pithy sayings out there about knowing yourself, investigating your self, being true to yourself, knowing your strengths and weaknesses, etc., and making plausible goals. Since I'm an introspective person anyway, and since I needed some sort of topic for my blog, I figured I'd include here a reassessment of some of my own goals. And fanbase, I highly suggest that you do the same. Where would the world be without egotists such as ourselves? ;)

So, first off, remember when I said I'd be changing the colors of my blog? The few of you you've read this blog since its inception know that it looks just the same as always, alas. Now, I'd still like to change the colors of my blog. I even had borrowed a book from my local library, the title of which I'd tell if you if it hadn't been so long since I've seen it that I've forgotten it*, which would have told me how to do this easily, but I returned it because I finally had to admit that I wasn't going to finish reading it.

However, I'd still like to change the colors of my blog. I have plans to do this in the future. So, my realistic assessment is this: In about two weeks, when I've quit my job as a peon at an educational publisher and am focused on things like packing for my impending move to Chicago for grad school, when I have more spare time, I will fiddle with the HTML code and make my blog prettier.

Even more realistic assessment: In the time after I've quit my job and before I move to Chicago, I will become so frustrated with packing, apartment and/or roommate hunting, part-time job hunting, and so stressed about reentering the world of schoolin' and the prospect of working at Dairy Queen or some other menial job that nonetheless has the flexible hours I'll require, that the last thing I will want to do is frustrate myself further with figuring out how to make my blog pretty. Thus the only time I will log on the computer will be to play Pop & Drop and check email to see if someone, somehow, has heard of my woe and has decided to alleviate it by giving me $40,000 to pay for grad school (which wouldn't take care of everything, but sure would make me feel better).

Next--and this is one that none of you have heard about on my blog--I must think about my plan in which I write a novel so amazingly good that I singlehandedly become responsible for causing the public to read again. People everywhere rediscover the joy of the printed word and spend their every waking moments discussing my work, or The Great Work, as they will come to call it, eyes gleaming with pride and happiness. World leaders will be so grateful to me that they will agree to hand over the rules of their countries/territories/what have you, confident that all will be well in the hands of my benevolent dictatorship. Benevolent dictatorship in place, I will have Orlando Bloom, Colin Firth, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, and Jack Johnson (the list may change and expand, however, as this is quite far out in the future) become my personal cadre of cabana boys who wave palm fronds at me while I sip iced tea and tap away on my laptop as I create what will become The Next Great Work.

Realistic reassessment: Palm fronds imply that I'd be at some sort of beach-y resort, as does the cabana boy thing. Beaches imply tropical, and tropical implies heat. I don't do well with the heat. I'll have to think of some non-beachy place to write The Next Great Work, and Orly, Colin, Johnny, and Jack will have to form a cadre of something besides cabana boys. And the palm fronds are probably a bit much, too. I can't imagine that they would create enough of a breeze. My cadre of whatever can instead aim handheld, battery-operated fans at my head.

All right, I think that's quite enough self-assessment for now. It's so good to have a plan in place, isn't it?



*This is true. I cannot for the life of me remember the title of that stupid book, of which I read only three chapters. One of the later chapters supposedly would have taught me how to increase traffic to my blog, which I, based upon the pitfully low number on my stat counter, could definitely have used. Then again--why aren't you readers spreading word of my blog to all and sundry? For shame, fanbase! For shame.

Üder Redux

Hey fanbase!

Remember Üder? Well now you can check him out in an expanded version!

While you're at the Comic Widows site, browse around. It's pretty nifty, and the moderator of a writing group I'm in, Writer Circle (check it out in my links section), puts it together.

And unfortunately, I currently have no amusing anecdotes or pity comments for you, save this one: Happy Sunday, everyone!

Confessions

Well fanbase, in the wake of a couple of weeks of no posting, and then my two sorry posts, I'm feeling pretty guilty. My blog has been far from up to snuff recently, and I apologize. The ubiquitous "they" say that confession is good for the soul, and so, largely to ease my own conscience, I will make some confessions to you right here on this blog. And if you're a voyeur who thrives on this sort of stuff, great! Sit back and enjoy!

Confession No. 1:

There are times when I think I am a talentless hack who cannot write. Then I think, No no, it is not so! for I have been Accepted Into A Creative Writing Program! Somebody thinks I'm good! I begin to whistle, then pop on over to my blog to review my latest masterpiece.

Hey, wait a minute...

Confession No. 2:

Long ago, during the naivete of my youth, I liked New Kids On The Block. A poster of Joe adorned the door to my room. I saved my weekly allowance of one dollar for months and bought the dolls of both Jonathan* and Danny,** with plans to buy the rest later (thankfully never happened). I even owned a set of NKOTB towels. Now, it's just disturbing (though somewhat salacious) that I used their faces to cleanse and dry my body.

Confession No. 3:

I own a pair of Birkenstocks. I know, I know, Stacy and Clinton would have my hide. But own them I do. And they're comfortable! I don't care if the "style gurus" would throw them away. They're comfortable. Plus I (used to) suffer from plantar fasciitis. I need the arch support! And I will continue to wear my Birkenstocks, so there, Stacy and Clinton. I defy you!

And on that subversive note, I leave you, fanbase. I hope your voyeuristic desires have been satisfied.

*In an ultimately futile effort to impress Barbie (who moved on to Danny), Jonathan tragically lost his leg when attempting to do the splits. He retired to a shoebox in shame. Current location: unknown.
**Current location: unknown, but Barbie*** likes to believe that he's not off with Skipper somewhere.
***Yes, this is a footnote of a footnote. I'm avant garde that way. Anyhoo, Barbie herself was sold a at a garage sale, and so her current location is unknown as well. Or she was given to good will. I forget which. In any case, I don't know where she is.

Warning: this is a Thinking Post

If you're looking for a laugh, I'm honored that you came to my blog for it. However, you'll have to check out another blog/Web site/joke-of-the-day calendar (assuming there exists a joke-of-the-day calendar that is actually funny, of course). This entry is going to be a Thinking Post. If you're not in the mood for a Thinking Post, come back in a couple of days. I'm sure I'll come up with something witty, yet urbane, at a later date.

In the meantime--

I was over at Apple's Movie Trailer site browsing the trailers and noticed that the trailer for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is up, as well as a WETA featurette for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. The WETA one was neat, but the Harry Potter one actually brought on warm, fuzzy feelings and even fond recollections of my recent rereading of the book. I'm currently rereading The Fellowship of the Ring and am enjoying it more than I did when I read it the first time round, shortly before the movie came out.

So all this got me thinking on why I like fantasy--I don't read it as much as I used to (though it's making a comeback since I'm trying to save money and so am looking to my personal library, of which fantasy still makes up at least 60% for my reading pleasure), but I read it almost excusively growing up, and I'm sure I'll always have a soft spot for the genre.

Why? What is it about this stuff that kept me reading an average of a book a week for about six years straight, until I had to go to college and my free time was cut down drastically? And why is it that I'm coming back to the genre after a hiatus during which I read little but contemporary fiction?

It really didn't take me long to answer: I like the fact that the bad guys get what's coming to them. The vast majority of fantasy is based on the good/evil dichotomy. You have a dark, powerful overlord who's bent on taking over the world or destroying it. You have a group of characters who want to stop the dark overlord, and eventually do. It's interesting, because the fantasy I like best maintains the good/evil dichotomy and yet retains the protagonists as characters who neither black nor white but instead in the gray area. They're not perfect; they struggle with their own weaknesses, but the good in them wins out in the end. I think there's comfort in that. Though the worlds are made up, it's a reassurance that there is good in the world and that there are people willing to fight for it.

The thing about contemporary fiction is that it's largely concerned with the individual. Individual people getting on with their individual lives, and those lives are touched only by a few other individuals. Things that happen to those individuals won't affect Fictional Bob across the street. Fantasy, however, is typically on a much larger scope, because the outcome of the battle between the antagonists and the protagonists will affect the entire (fictional) world, including people like Fictional Bob. Fantasy offers a showcase for some of the best aspects of humanity--devotion to others and the willingness for self-sacrifice. I don't know that that comes across in much contemporary literature.

It's difficult to explain, but I guess I'll say it like this: if these books any of them, were real, I think epic fantasy, with its focus on, you know, saving the world, would matter more than the individual-centeredness of most general literature. Which I think is an interesting aspect for a genre that many malign as being a lesser form of fiction.

Well, I've babbled on long enough. I may get a more light-hearted post up tomorrow.

Been so long!

Apologies to my massive fanbase (*coughofthree*cough). I do realize it's been quite some time since I've posted anything to my blog. There are several excuses I could offer as to why I have not, but why don't we go with this:

I've been spending the last two weeks weeping into my pillow because, alas, I will be unable to attend The Time Traveler Convention.

This is a sad day for me, fanbase. For at 10 pm EDT, I will not be at

East Campus Courtyard, MIT
3 Ames St. Cambridge, MA 02142
42:21:36.025°N, 71:05:16.332°W
(42.360007,-071.087870 in decimal degrees)

I will instead be weeping into my pillow because I am not at the Time Traveler's Convention. Unless someone happens to invent a time traveling device in my lifetime, and a future version of me uses the time traveling device to attend the Time Traveler's Convention, in which case it would be a good thing that I'm not there, because we all now that meeting future/past versions of ourselves can ruin the space-time continuum and destroy the worlds, because so many books and movies have told us it is so. Or maybe a future version of myself (including the one that will be weeping into my pillow) will have the good fortune to fall into a worm hole (how would we get one on earth? Psh, like I know) and end up at the TTC anyway. Hope remains!

So a correction: I will be weeping into my pillow because my present self will not be at the Time Traveler's Convention. A future of myself may very well be. But moi, as I know moi--nope.