I haven't given up.

I felt like it was important to let people know that if anyone has actually read this since its inception, or stumbles upon it by some chance some day.. I'm still around and what not. I just decided to momentarily take my writing process in a different direction.

Why would I start this blog and then change the way I write?

I guess it comes down to a lot of things. For the past however many years I've had access to a computer, I've been taking my writing there first, writing page by page as it comes to me...and I've realized that doesn't really work. I don't become invested in the people I'm writing, or the story I'm creating for them that way. I don't finish the stories as a result. I don't know what my characters want for breakfast, or their family trees, or whats going on in their head at any given moment...and if I do, it's because I'm writing someone who either closely resembles me or someone else I've gotten acquainted with enough to be inside their head.

I need to grow as a writer. So I decided to buy myself a new journal at work...partially because it's cute and red and soft and awesome, but also because of all I've heard of the benefits of writing something down with your own two hands before transferring it onto a screen, and I do have to say, that kinda thing has worked decently for me in the past, and it's working really well now too, when I actually have the time to sit and write.

I carry it everywhere with me...and the first and only story I have in it so far is preceded by pages and pages of notes and ideas and questions I have about my characters in an attempt to really get under their skin and flesh them, and the circumstances surrounding them out. Do I know that this will definitely yield my desired results? Not at all...but I figure its worth a shot. This is something I really want to work on for myself and the only way to do it is to give it my best shot in all directions.

I also haven't been writing in here because of time constraints, along with insecurities and laziness. I have a few rough things written in saved blogs...but they're somewhat autobiographical and as I'd like to shy away from those things a bit, I haven't posted them yet. That doesn't mean I will or won't...I'm trying to figure out the apropriateness of posting them. They reveal sides of me I'm not sure I want the public at large to see...partially because I'm choosing to exaggerate them for my own literary purposes and I just don't know if people will completely get that...and I really don't want to end up getting egged every day as I leave my house. Not really the best way to show up to work you know?

So once my story is finished in my little red journal...it'll be in here for your reviewing pleasure. Maybe I'll toss in a few more character studies, and autobiographical stories disguised as character studies and vice versa for any readers' viewing pleasure. I can only hope someone enjoys or despises my writing enough to actually make a comment one of these days.

No more trains!

I REAAAALLLLY need to make a point of not writing about train rides anymore.
Honestly, whens the last time I wrote something that didn't involve a girl riding on a train of some sort?

For the record..the previous story wasn't meant to be a "story" as such as it was a glimpse inside the mind of someone who happens to be riding the train. It was an exercise on my part in attempting to create a person that isn't just a flat set of character traits but instead a person with thoughts, ideas, feelings and prejudices..But I wrote about her having all those things on a train and thus it bothers me.

The train trend started in highschool, and despite the fact that I no longer even ride the T except out of absolute necessity or sheer laziness it seemingly is still so ingrained in me that I'd go so far as to accidentally write a story based upon a train ride.

It's easy to do something like that when you think of it. There's rarely a train ride when I don't encounter some kind of awkward or amusing or scary character who could either be a story in themselves, or cause the kind of thoughts that allow someone elses character to show through, such as I tried to do in my previous entry. There are lots of things to describe and a lot of different ways you can go with it...but in that way it's also kind of a cop out.

I don't really like "Evelyn" of my prior post. I also don't like the people I put around her on the train because they're so flat. I mean how believable is it really that a college aged guy...even if he were drunk, would sit on a train by himself serenading a random girl with don't stop believin? (which happens to be an awesome song despite my earlier description of it by the way...remember, thats the way evelyn thinks, not me). I think it'd be more believable if he had an entourage and they were all kinda singing it..or if they were egging him on or making fun of him or something. Who knows? I'll have to go back over it...maybe I'll edit it from the post itself. Any criticism that anyone might have is more than welcome. Just toss a comment on there and tear it to shreds. I won't get any better if I don't have an idea of what I'm doing wrong. Imight cry my heart out and call you heartless and cruel and what not...but I'll thank you in the end too.

Today's lesson though...no more trains. I can't write anything with trains in it for at least 3 months, unless absolutely necessary.

Evelyn

Listening to some guy hopped up on God knows what sing Don't Stop Believin' is not how I had intended on spending my ride home tonight, but then I really don't what else I would expect from a day like this. He might as well as been killing a cat as singing the drunk college kid's anthem.

No escape is visible. No gadgetry to bury myself in. Reading a book would be next to impossible. Five stops to go. I could get up and move to another car at the next stop, but why should I have to be the one to move? I worked hard to be able to sit right here on this train and relax at the end of the day. He's the one that's disturbing the peace. He's the one making an ass of himself.

I'll just have to hope he gets off at the next stop, or the one after that. Annoying people never seem to be decent enough to just go away though. They stick to me like glue and nag and chew away at me, and I'm sure this guy is just the same. with my luck he'll get off at my stop on the way to a party in my building or something. My building is full of stereotypes just like him. College kids away from mommy and daddy for the first time, but still attached at the purse strings, their book allowances being spent the second they step in the liquor store. They've never worked a day in their lives and are sure that the second they graduate they'll be handed jobs with full benefits packages, in corner offices, with an 8ok a year salary. Oh and of course they get summers off and that nasty little alcholism they picked up in college will just disappear into midair. He'll go to that party and see a room for rent...and decide he likes the area and the price. Next thing he'll be my obnoxious next door neighbor, blasting Journey's Greatest Hit's all hours of the night and smelling up the hallways with his ciggarrettes or marijuana or whatever his vice might be. All vices come with their odors, and from here, I can tell he either has a lot of them all melting together on his skin and clothes and stuck to his greasy hair, or he just excels at one so well it's enveloped him.

I feel bad for the poor girl he's singing to. He seems to think he's a regular Cassanova, but from the way she's clutching her bookbag, I'd say she's figuring he's something closer to someone out of a horror film. I can't say I blame her. I'm not much older than either of them. Probably a little less than a decade...but I'm lucky enough that I don't have to worry about guys like this latching onto me most of the time. I guess it helps that I don't dress like a total hooker like most younger girls do either. This one isn't. She's wearing a cute red sweater and some nice jeans that aren't mangled and dirtied like the fashion has inexplicable become these days. She looks like she's a really classy girl and my heart goes out to here that she's got to sit there terrified as this dirtbag drools all over her as he sings. he's undressing her with his eyes. I can tell it's something he's practiced. I highly doubt anything but his eyes gets to undress girls often.

He seems to be at the end of his solo. He's standing to get off the train. YES!
But here is where he asks the girl for her "digits"...I didn't know anyone even said that anymore. She gives him the rejection hotline. Good girl...but I'm sure he's heard it before. he's by no means a looker, a singer, and any girl within ten feet of his stench might either die from the fumes or be sent running for the hills. Recognition does seem to dawn on his face but he just sulks off the train rather than fight to be rejected again.

So now there's peace at last, for me and the scared little girl. Her arms relax around her army green messanger bag she'd been gripping so tightly before and she takes a book out to study, seemingly happy to be able to drown out the rest of the riders now.

I want to close my eyes and let the day I've had wash over me and be forgotten but I know I'd fall to sleep within seconds. All I can do instead is stare out the window and watch the empty darkness go by. It's not bad really. It's better than having to think, or listen to some kid going the wrong way in trying to impress a girl.

The ride is way too long. I need to move closer to work. I usually have my car so it doesn't normally take this long, but every time my old piece of junk breaks down I realize that I work too far from home. Aside from the rent and the area it's in, my apartment isn't worth it either. My landlord loves to inhabit the place with rich college kids. Every time they break anything, he just exhorts their parents for the money, so for him it's no harm no foul...but I'm the one stuck with all these dumb kids clogging up the works all the time. I pay less than they do like the other adult renters because thats the only thing keeping us there. We're cheap and want to live close to the shopping centers and parks and all those niceties. Maybe I should consider moving jobs instead of moving areas then. I bet I could find a decent place in my neighborhood that isn't too overpriced. Changing jobs would mean adapting to a whole new computer system and set of office politics and I really just don't want to bother with that kind of thing right now.

I guess my best bet is to hope _________ finally decides to pop the question and to figure out the life changes from there. I swear those silly college kids singing to girls on trains are less commitaphobic than him. One year, and nothing. Does he think I'm going to wait around forever? I mean sure I love him, but I'm really not a spring chicken... I never really got that phrase.. I guess chicken's are born in the spring or something. It's still weird. We've known each other for two years though and dated for one year.. even if he was in Indonesia for 4 of the months we've been together, I think we've been able to build something really strong in that time. And we kinda talked while he was away too. Even the 7 months that we've really gotten to be together has just been so good. I'll never understand men. They can go into a shopping mall and be out with whatever they needed in ten minutes but entering into matrimony has to be some kind of big production that takes forever to decide on. At least if they gave equal time to their shopping I'd understand it. They'd just be indecisive creatures by nature but clearly the indecision applies to one area alone.

Note To Self: work on your titling.

The original title I came up with for this blog was "Composition Notebook no. 109087256334 or something like that, referencing the number of notebooks and journals I've filled, or tried to fill, over the years with stories, ideas and other writing attempts. This is just another and I really hope I can hold it together for this one.

I know this is probably a very counterproductive entry in the way of actually writing creatively and getting back into the swing of story writing but I feel weird without an introduction of some sort. You can expect to read a lot of different things in this blog, but none or very little will have to do with my life. If they do at all, they will be in regards to the writing and, maybe some day, the publishing process. I'll add a sprinkling of quotes from other authors here and there. Mostly though, this will be all about free writes, character development and other writing exercises I decide to do. From time to time there might be entries written in the first person about someones day. I can assure you that whoever that someone is, it's not me. It's a fictional character, or someone whose head I'm trying to get into because I think I can use pieces of them for a fictional character. "meme's" and surveys as well are those of the characters and not my own. if this attempt is to be at all successful, it can't be about who I am, but about who I can come up with. I'll try to use the labels and what not to make that clearer.

There was a time in my life when I had a very creative circle of friends that were interested in writing and whom I could turn to to write with and to bounce ideas off of so to better my writing. They'd sit with a red pen in hand and tear my papers word by word to pieces so that when all was said and done, I could possibly have a masterpiece in my hands if I only made the effort to put the pieces back together again in a better way. I still have a lot of very creative friends, but the dynamic has changed and it's resulted in my writing skills laying dormant for many years now....so bear with me. I'm sorry if what I have to say right now is cheesy or trite. This isn't about writing the great american novel so much as it is developing as a writer and finding my voice. and maybe some day, it will be about such a thing as the great american novel. I'm good with my writing just being for me right now.

So read...tell me what you like and don't. Help me become better at what I do..