Warning: useless drivel follows. This is a transcription of today’s journal entry. It’s not interesting. It doesn’t dig into who I am. It’s just crap. But I like posting crap, so here goes:

Another pathetic outing in a feeble week of not writing. The withholding of caffeine is only partly responsible. Inspiration is at a low and I’m fielding questions of why I’m bothering, how these “stories” are any better or more useful or telling than what’s already out there.

I’m receiving support from listening to one of Dean Koontz’s early books. It’s awful. If he can write crap like that, then my crap can’t be much worse, right? At least he wrote, I keep hearing the response. I’ve done everything but that. I’ve spent the last couple of days playing with my website. See my new shadow on the right, reading list, and movie list. I guess everyone goes through these stages. I just wish I didn’t go through them so frequently.

Sparkly.

Write another part—I can’t even remember what the fuck my last story was about.

I just skimmed the earlier pages of my journal and I saw how much discussion and debate I did before writing FBT. There was also much consternation and planning. There are interesting entries that are only in handwritten form. I’m still not convinced that that’s bad. I could transcribe these pointless musings (like this one) for my vanity, but who would want to read them. The English language is pretty amazing, that I can say the same thing over and over and use different words to get the same thoughts across. Simply amazing.

Lost Monster is still missing much. It has a few characters but none are terribly interesting and the story itself tastes trite. I need one of those Excellent! moments. Sleepy with few thoughts coming.

The boy is reading a book while going through the mall and we catch fragments of what he reads—a formulaic fantasy novel ala Harry Potter. What’s the point? He reads while driving to the mall and waiting—damn, too much waiting—wasn’t that the problem with your last story? The waiting? Yes. And here you want to create the same problem in this story. Sad, very sad.

I like the book idea: a simple sword & sorcery story that the reader catches only short snippets of.

The boy is using the book to escape what? The divorce? Just make sure you don’t pour it on too thick or it’ll be sickening. The boy looses himself in the book’s problems and forgets, momentarily, his own—once again referring to his family issues. Ugh. Make those interesting—the book should be easier to make interesting. Much more thinking is necessary.

Doolies’s coming tomorrow. Yeah!