Blond Sidekicks and Best Sellers...In My Head
At this point in time, I'm incredibly thankful for my imagination. Life is boring. Bo-ring. Bo-ring. Bo-ring. I've made some changes and plan a few more, but I fear that no matter what I do, I'll still be mired in the doldrums of the humdrum.
Being broke doesn't help. Oh, I don't have to be broke. I don't. I could charge up my Visa card again and make minimum payments on all my other bills. I could be fat and flying high. It's just that I've done all that before I never end up anywhere good. In fact, I almost always find myself in more debt (weird how that happens) and working yet again toward debt-free. This time I'm determined to get there. I thought I'd be forty-two and debt-free, however given that I'm rapidly approaching my birthday, it looks like it's going to have to wait until the early days of forty-three.
Which is why I love that imagination is free and that Netflix is only $7.99/month (after my free trial). I've been getting into fiction lately. No, no... I haven't been writing it. Well, not on paper at least. Admittedly, I've been watching more TV and movies, but I also have a couple really good stories going in my head. Whenever I get really bored, like at the gym or in the middle of a horrendous staff meeting, I pick up one of my stories. I 'write' and 're-write' and try to inch them further along. In my head, of course. Oddly enough, my 'heroine' usually looks a lot like me, but her life is way more interesting than mine.
I've been doing this on and off for years. When I was a kid, I always seemed to have a running story. I can't remember many specifics, but I seem to recall having a lot of cool female sidekicks (weird, I know). I haven't changed much. My stories still seem to involve me and someone prettier than me who is spiritually, intellectually, and physically hot. In other words, I'm the character; they're the talent. Lest everyone think that 'I' get 'lucky' a lot, 'I' don't. Not in real life and not in my imagination. Bummer that, but when it comes to a good story, readers like suspense and a good cat-and-mouse romance.
One day, I may have to actually write stories for real, like with a virtual pen and paper. There's really no telling how good my stories might be. Maybe this is how Grisham and King started. Poor boredom + Imagination + Fearlessness = Best Seller. Who knew? As I think about it, this is probably the reason for the sophomore slump. Money = Less boredom = Less imagination = Sucky next book.
I worry most about making sure that my creativity is fact based. That requires researching and research is boring. Mostly because 98% of it requires reading. Maybe that's why science fiction is so popular. There's no fact and no basis in reality. Unfortunately, I despise fictional fiction. I like history and things that could actually, really happen. Yes, the world could get taken over by aliens who look like zombies and yes, we could defeat them with a lithium-ion-plutonium-craponium dirty bomb hidden in a vampire's cloak, but I'm skeptical. Sure I could make it up as I went and that might be fun and easy, however I'd end up with a load of crap I'd never read. If I was a reader, I mean. And if I'd never read it, why would I write it?
So here I am back at my conundrum. I'm bored and writing stories in my head that need a bit of factual enhancement before I actually write them down. Facts are interesting. Fact finding is boring. If my goal is to reduce the amount of boredom in my world (at least until I come into a little money), I can't sit at my computer Googling and reading. Ugh. Life is already boring enough. I know what'll happen - I'll retreat into my imagination where boredom is almost non-existent and my character doesn't have to read a damn thing. Or if she does, she does it off-scene only to return with a bunch of really cool information.
The good life is truly in my head. In addition to never having to read, my character has a surplus of pretty girls at the ready for sidekick duty (most of whom are blond), lives alone, has money, and is supremely fit despite never going to the gym (she probably works out off-scene also). Yes, my imagination is definitely where it's at. Given that thoughts often become things, I don't see it as a complete waste of time. One day I just might end up debt-free and have a blond sidekick. Hey, it could happen.
In the meantime, might my imagination produce some read-able fiction in the near future? We'll have to see. Maybe I need to put those thoughts out there, too. I need a blond sidekick and a best seller. Come on, Universe.
Being broke doesn't help. Oh, I don't have to be broke. I don't. I could charge up my Visa card again and make minimum payments on all my other bills. I could be fat and flying high. It's just that I've done all that before I never end up anywhere good. In fact, I almost always find myself in more debt (weird how that happens) and working yet again toward debt-free. This time I'm determined to get there. I thought I'd be forty-two and debt-free, however given that I'm rapidly approaching my birthday, it looks like it's going to have to wait until the early days of forty-three.
Which is why I love that imagination is free and that Netflix is only $7.99/month (after my free trial). I've been getting into fiction lately. No, no... I haven't been writing it. Well, not on paper at least. Admittedly, I've been watching more TV and movies, but I also have a couple really good stories going in my head. Whenever I get really bored, like at the gym or in the middle of a horrendous staff meeting, I pick up one of my stories. I 'write' and 're-write' and try to inch them further along. In my head, of course. Oddly enough, my 'heroine' usually looks a lot like me, but her life is way more interesting than mine.
I've been doing this on and off for years. When I was a kid, I always seemed to have a running story. I can't remember many specifics, but I seem to recall having a lot of cool female sidekicks (weird, I know). I haven't changed much. My stories still seem to involve me and someone prettier than me who is spiritually, intellectually, and physically hot. In other words, I'm the character; they're the talent. Lest everyone think that 'I' get 'lucky' a lot, 'I' don't. Not in real life and not in my imagination. Bummer that, but when it comes to a good story, readers like suspense and a good cat-and-mouse romance.
One day, I may have to actually write stories for real, like with a virtual pen and paper. There's really no telling how good my stories might be. Maybe this is how Grisham and King started. Poor boredom + Imagination + Fearlessness = Best Seller. Who knew? As I think about it, this is probably the reason for the sophomore slump. Money = Less boredom = Less imagination = Sucky next book.
I worry most about making sure that my creativity is fact based. That requires researching and research is boring. Mostly because 98% of it requires reading. Maybe that's why science fiction is so popular. There's no fact and no basis in reality. Unfortunately, I despise fictional fiction. I like history and things that could actually, really happen. Yes, the world could get taken over by aliens who look like zombies and yes, we could defeat them with a lithium-ion-plutonium-craponium dirty bomb hidden in a vampire's cloak, but I'm skeptical. Sure I could make it up as I went and that might be fun and easy, however I'd end up with a load of crap I'd never read. If I was a reader, I mean. And if I'd never read it, why would I write it?
So here I am back at my conundrum. I'm bored and writing stories in my head that need a bit of factual enhancement before I actually write them down. Facts are interesting. Fact finding is boring. If my goal is to reduce the amount of boredom in my world (at least until I come into a little money), I can't sit at my computer Googling and reading. Ugh. Life is already boring enough. I know what'll happen - I'll retreat into my imagination where boredom is almost non-existent and my character doesn't have to read a damn thing. Or if she does, she does it off-scene only to return with a bunch of really cool information.
The good life is truly in my head. In addition to never having to read, my character has a surplus of pretty girls at the ready for sidekick duty (most of whom are blond), lives alone, has money, and is supremely fit despite never going to the gym (she probably works out off-scene also). Yes, my imagination is definitely where it's at. Given that thoughts often become things, I don't see it as a complete waste of time. One day I just might end up debt-free and have a blond sidekick. Hey, it could happen.
In the meantime, might my imagination produce some read-able fiction in the near future? We'll have to see. Maybe I need to put those thoughts out there, too. I need a blond sidekick and a best seller. Come on, Universe.
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