U H A ! U H A ! U H A !

i have been editing my ass off for teh last three days and i finally reached the end of the original manuscript. and i think i speak for everyone who's ever read the novel when i say, FUCK YEAH!

in case i neglected to mention it before, UHA is the first in a series of novels i am writing. UHA2 is complete and out for testing, but it is on hiatus until i have time to look at it. UHA1, i am actively editing, and UHA3 is to be completed this November, during National Novel Writing Month.

so, my plans from here are as follows:

1) take the revised manuscript and add a few necessary scenes, possibly rewrite the opening.
2) print the revised, v.2 manuscript and mark it up
3) complete rerevisions to get v.3 manuscript
4) send to agents
5) ????
6) profit.

i am excited. it's great to have something to do, adn to see progres being made.

i'm going to a party later tonight, so i may have another post.
Laters!

Wow.

also. i'm typing this incredibly drunk. and, three posts in one day; kudos to me!

so i just had the best night ever since as far as i can remember. i went to the pool hall and played po with a freind of mine, then we wnet to a country bars with some of my rferinds from high school. then we wnet to meet some of my freind's freinds at a technobar. it wa sooo funny! anyway his freinds had alreaady left when we goththere, so we went back to teh country bar.

and i realized, as i was on this little alcoholic oddysey: it's freinds that make it all fun. it's inside jokes, dancing a dance you hat with a girl you went to high school with and embarrasing yourself in front of half of the country-ass bar denizens in the coastal bend. it's making fun of the gargabtuan women eho shake it all by themselves on the dance floor. it's being one of the only two guys wearing t-shirts adn skater shoes, but most of all, it's doing it with freinds.

my lessons in fun have just begun.
i look forward to an amicable semester.

What teh hell is wrong with me?!

i just spent an hour trying to get up the nerve to text someone. one of my freinds. because i've been sitting in this chair for the past week and staring at this computer.

but whenever i try to think of something todo for fun, this question comes up: what's the point?
sure, i could go to teh bookstore again, but why? to sit in a chair adn not read anything because then i'll want to buy it so instead i get bored and have to drive all the way across town back home.
yeah, that's fun.

but back to the first topic-- why am i so afraid to attempt to communicate with people? i don't think it's fear of rejection, i've ben rejected before and its not so bad.
i think it's a fear tha people will see how bad i am at trying to relate to them and laugh. or worse-- they'll find out i actually NEED them.

yes it's a tough thing to admit, but you'll go crazy living in a box with no outlet for your words. i know; i've been there. but if you don;t reach out and try, then it's your own fault when you actually do go crazy.

what i really want is to have a conversation. but it's hard for me to relate. not converse, i mean, i do that rather well, or at least pretend to. but beyond teh superficial-- an actual, meaningful conversation, about something i want to talk about for once! it's hard for me to connect with people on a meaningful level.

it's been said that great men are often lonely. but then my other mind asks teh question, "since when are you so great?"

fictional characters and truth

fictional characters are some of teh most fascinating people i know. “…to quote a bible: ‘the water monster is right, cat man. They are among us.’”~Mark Cakes

you know, all fiction authors are deep down philosohers, we're just already aware of teh fact that we're fooling ourselves.

and all philosophers are in search of one great thing-- truth. truth is like nickelodeon gak. a sticky substance with a high viscocity. it runs all over the place, a little of it clings to every thing it touches once it's opened, and once it's opened, you can never gather it all up again. it's tough to pin down.

the author's way of considering truth is to construct an elaborate simulation in which fictional characters are dealt hypothetical problems and are forced to deal back. but all too often, they neglect to consider the most likely scenario-- that the character will simply avoid dealing with the problem. that's boring.

pilosophers work in a similar way, but they lack a narrative in which to frame their hypothetical scenarios. plus they smoke a lot of weed.

i never liked philosophers, but i've finally found one who doesn't piss me off. Mark "Baby" Cakes of Brad Neely's internet cartoons has much to say that is deep and profound, and completely true.

consider this excerpt fomr one of Mark's lectures which neatly outlines teh motivation of every one in real life, and most fictional main characters:
"…and there is always some poor kid who has a sucky life, but then he’s visited by someone from a hidden world of awesomeness who explains to the kid that the kid is the chosen kid, and everyone is waiting for him; to fight, and to win, and to accept treasure, and to accept love, and to rule the hidden world of awesomeness like the handsome little asshole that he is. Huh, happens all the time, right? I guess every one of us is just hoping to turn out to be one of those forgotten chosen ones, right?"


this ties the realms of fiction and the real world togather in a manner truly exemplary of their symbiosis, because while Mark's words are true for us, his own beleifs about them are warped. it took a fictional character to show us IRL the truth about what our life is like even though he never knew the real truth himself.

now that's irony.

UuuuUuuUuuuuuUuhhh...

probably not gonna see a new project gold ths week. i'm depressed and in a really bad state to be writing. my living conditions currently are not conducive to creativity. it's unsafe.

but i did have a thought abut editing my novels. in them, i left all teh detials (i.e., city, state, street address, year, etc.) vague adn ambiguous because i thought that the reader would be better able to identify and become immersed in the story.

but a thought occurs.

in many other stories, everything is pinned down. everybody knows where harry potter lives. dracula's time of death can be pinpointed to teh minute. luke skywalker's family history is common knowlege (even if it is a spoiler). this makes me wonder: should i define some details?

i mean i know what they all are. every one of those questions about the world of UHA has an answer. but is it important for teh audience to know them?

i suppose it depends on the type of story i want this to be. the added details of teh above works make them more than just narratves; they become mythologies. facts (even if they're made up) prove that the story actually happened, or at least make it seem so. without them, teh tale becomes purely hypothetical, and teh hypothesis travels beyond the fourth wall. it becomes more like a folktale, or a tale of what could be.

so what do i want...

this happened?
or this could happen to you?
i guess i need to do some more soul searching...

*update
after thinking for ten seconds, it appears as if i'm telling a 'this happened' story in a 'this could happen to you' way.
i need to see if it works.
more testing.
back to the lab!

Good news, Everyone!

aside from the obvious, i got another chapter of P:G done, i just found out something incredible.

a program called "jpeg book" can turn text files inot photos formatted specifically for reading on the
PSP. you know what this means... UHA e-books!

UHA is a series of novels i am writing and editing about characters who have problems and must deal with them. i've already written two books, but once i work out the kinks of this new program, i can sell e- copies of UHA online. so look for that on this site in the future.

also, while i was in austin, i passed by my old neighborhood-- ten years can do a lo to a slum. the place was gorgeous! freshly painted houses adn businesses. i barely even recognized it! it was like a wonderful dream... and the mot dreamlike part was my house.

what was once a white trash nest has been extensively remodeled into a 200,000$+ middle class haven with new evertything. full circle. also, miss murrow still lives across the street adn i stopped and said hi to her. had a nice chat. good to know the old girl is still going strong.
i even went to my old elementary school. talk about reminiscensce.

well, i'll have to save it for another time.

i'm back in corpus now and i have a big day planned tomorrow, so i gotta rest up.

Project: Gold Arc Zer0 Chapter 2

He’s a Goober – natorial Candidate

≈(ģ)

“They are a street gang, a violent secret society, a radical revolutionary front. I’ve even heard some people say they’re a cult, but they’re a danger to you, a danger to this fine state of California, and I am not going to stand for it!”

The crowd in front of my podium cheered. Damn, I looked good in that suit.

“Our prison system is eroding; criminals are spilling out onto the streets, and unless someone does something— until someone does something, none of us are safe. Ladies and gentlemen, I am that someone.”

They were eating out of the palm of my hand, dude!

“If I am elected governor, I promise that you will all be safe. I will hire more police officers and give them bigger budgets…”

I flipped the channel.

“... but could Brinkman win?”

Could I win? Uh— yeah, dude! It’s easy to win when you’ve got a puppet enemy dancing in front of the people and holding their attention. And the other guy I was running against used to be a pop singer. I had this thing in the bag.

“Breaking news here at the top of the hour. The president has just been found dead. Apparently he was eating some cheaze-tose in his kitchen when one of them accidentally entered his windpipe, choking him to death. More on this as it develops.”

Oh, gravy. Dangle what I really want right in front of my face. I reached for the phone to call John and tell him we were going after the post of president earlier than planned. But then I remembered that the stupid vice president would just take over for him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just been informed of a touchingly tragic turn of events. We have just received word that the vice president has committed suicide. A note was found alongside the corpse of the vice president indicating that he did not wish to live without his beloved commander in chief.”

YES. I picked up my cell phone and called John. We were going for the big prize.