I’m not really in the mood to write today. I’m not in the mood to do very much, actually. It’s not a delicious depression; it’s just a blah feeling. Too much video games, probably. Nothing exciting has been going on in my life. Sitting here, I can’t think of anything to say. The story and synopsis I’ve been focusing on is out of reach and I don’t care to stretch my brains to figure anything out about it. It’s late already, much later than I usually write: after 9pm.

I’ve been reading The Cave since yesterday by Jose S-something. He’s the author of Blindness, another allegorical story (I’ll pretend like I know what that means), I liked. So far, I like The Cave. He has a strange writing style: His sentences are long and winding, enclosing entire conversations in one long sentence. He doesn’t use quotations, single or double, but instead uses commas to separate the statements. His paragraphs are also long, sometimes running pages. His sentence and paragraph lengths seem more purposeful than David Foster Wallace’s. It’s dissimilar to stream-of-consciousness writing. Sentences are used to convey complete thoughts, and sometimes those thought encompass entire conversations and descriptions. His characters are simple, but their thoughts are philosophical, reflecting a deep wisdom. The worlds he creates are different, almost science fiction-like in the strange environments and big brother government.

Reading good writing rarely helps me write. If anything, it convinces me I’ll never be able to do it, the writing, that is. I feel like a hack. I sometimes believe that I write more in the hope of not having to work than in the hope of becoming a writer. (Even though I accept that writing is a million times more difficult than working.) If I were guaranteed that I could never make anything of my writing, would I still do it? Or would I give up and not write anymore? It’s a tough question. Authors sometimes say, “I need writing like I need breathing.” Writing isn’t oxygen to me. I enjoy it, but I could probably find another hobby to replace it.

That’s not completely true. The more I write, the more I become attached to it, especially as a way to understand myself and develop my theories (so many theories). Through writing, I create and argue new philosophies and theories (something I do in musing form, but not story form, yet). In college and to a lesser extend graduate school, I used to sit around and debate the world and life, in search of truth or victory (sometimes one and in the same). Writing let’s me reconnect to that. I can share my thoughts, marvel at them, and have others read and discuss them.

It sounds like you’re consternating about the value of writing now. Can’t you write a musing that has nothing to do about writing? It doesn’t seem possible. Perhaps that’s evidence enough of your desire to write. If when you sit in front of the keyboard, only musings on writings pour out, perhaps that’s telling you something. Perhaps it’s telling you that there’s something more to your writing there than you’re willing to admit.

Alligators have long tails: the better to strike out at you.

Let’s get back to synopsizing and get out of this funk. You have a fun weekend with Doolies coming up. A little writing now and then some cleaning tonight (edit: that part didn’t happen), and everything will be good. All good.

The story is rather simple so far. I want it to remain simple. I will focus instead on complicated, well-drafted characters.

Synopsis: the narrator wants to marry his girlfriend, but he is hesitant because she doesn’t want monsters (children), believing they would slack her style, the me generation’s style. Hilarity ensues. An evening with his friends convinces him that’s she’s right: after he realizes that a new monster effectively alienated one of his friends from the group. He goes to the store to buy an engagement ring for his girlfriend. While there, he decides to assist a screaming, lost child that nobody will help. Something happens between the monster and the narrator during their brief time together. The narrator decides either (i) that he wants monsters and leaves the store, or (ii) that his girlfriend and friends were right about monsters destroying lives, and purchases the ring.

Simple story. A few simple scenes: (i) discussion somewhere with his girlfriend; (ii) meeting friends at the lounge; and (iii) engagement ring store where he helps lost child. Three simple scenes: what could be easier to write? Three main characters, the narrator, girlfriend, and lost child, and a collection of minor characters at the lounge. A simple choice: should he marry his girlfriend. This is much less complicated than the Grelko story (if the Grelko story had been properly written).

Complicated characters: the narrator, insightful, wry, self-deprecating humor, loves his girlfriend, and likes to be in a relationship. What are his motives: comes from a good family and wants to perpetuate his family. Ugh. This guy sounds fucking boring. What’s interesting about him? His clever asides will only get you so far. Why should the reader care about him? Does his girlfriend step on him? She sounds like the type based on where the story is going. He sounds like a wus. You forgot shy and wanting an M-3. Hilarious.

The girlfriend: a little crazy, out-going, self-involved, and very friendly. What are her motives?

One of the coffee house employees is about to become a father: he’s 23 and she’s 21 (not sure if they’re married). He’s talking with someone, busy studying, who is already a father. He had his children when he was older. The employee shares the belly photos. Some snippets: kids are a great (awesome) responsibility; you’re blessed; I love kids; I wish I had them when I was younger; being a father at a young age, let’s you have the energy for them; I know of a lot of people that say you will miss out of some of the stuff at a younger age; You will have different opportunities. Biblical names: discussion on religion and how it influences children and the decision to have kids. You’re lucky (blessed) if you have good family support. Employee’s family is supportive: all his sisters have children already.

I shared more than I thought I would, although not enough, never enough. I’ve left open questions (surprise), but I’m honing in on the important aspects. Time to return and not play video games (please, please!).