You know, I'm actually not on drugs? I just have a lot of time on my hands.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Something Weird
This is quicly becoming my favourite blog to post in because I can post whatever the fuck I want. There is no self-imposed theme, or guidelines or structure. It's total fucking insanity. So here is some more insanity, just for you.
You know, I'm actually not on drugs? I just have a lot of time on my hands.
You know, I'm actually not on drugs? I just have a lot of time on my hands.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
How To Write a Short Story
I wrote this when I was bored. I sort of got the inspiration from an article by Roman Dirge called 'How I Draw' (which can be found here).
1. FIND A SECLUDED SPOT WHERE NOBODY CAN FIND YOU
I like to write in my living room in a slightly uncomfortable chair when nobody is home. Writing in bed is a bad idea as falling asleep becomes a problem. Some people like to write outside. I do not as I hate the outdoors and everything in it.
2. GATHER WRITING MATERIALS
I use two notebooks, a box of pens and a computer. The computer is for research. The first notebook is for the actual body of writing. The second notebook is for writing down the information harvested from the internet. Having a box of pens is just nice because then you feel like you have all the pens.
3. WRITE SOME STUFF
Just keep making words until it starts to look like a sentence. Feel free to use lots of weird punctuation. Ex: "look out?" cried molly; dave - the captain/cook - meanwhile, dove for cover^
4. LOOK SHIT UP
I use wikipedia.
5. CHECK E-MAIL
While I'm on the internet, I might as well check my hotmail, gmail, yahoo, facebook, myspace, blogs, forums, facebook again, hit random article on wikipedia a few times, google stuff, go on facebook, IM my peeps and play a few rounds of Tetris.
6. LATER
By now, a couple of hours have passed and I feel like I have accomplished something. I go sit in bed and cry.
7. SLEEP
Eventually, I fall asleep and dream that I am a man who has just given birth to triplets.
8. WAKE UP
Cry some more. I eat my stash of chocolate and then cry because I am out of chocolate.
9. SIT IN BED
I usually like to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling until around two AM. Then, my brain kicks in and I am ready for action.
1O. WRITE A SHORT STORY
Yeah, then I pretty much just write the fucker.
1. FIND A SECLUDED SPOT WHERE NOBODY CAN FIND YOU
I like to write in my living room in a slightly uncomfortable chair when nobody is home. Writing in bed is a bad idea as falling asleep becomes a problem. Some people like to write outside. I do not as I hate the outdoors and everything in it.
2. GATHER WRITING MATERIALS
I use two notebooks, a box of pens and a computer. The computer is for research. The first notebook is for the actual body of writing. The second notebook is for writing down the information harvested from the internet. Having a box of pens is just nice because then you feel like you have all the pens.
3. WRITE SOME STUFF
Just keep making words until it starts to look like a sentence. Feel free to use lots of weird punctuation. Ex: "look out?" cried molly; dave - the captain/cook - meanwhile, dove for cover^
4. LOOK SHIT UP
I use wikipedia.
5. CHECK E-MAIL
While I'm on the internet, I might as well check my hotmail, gmail, yahoo, facebook, myspace, blogs, forums, facebook again, hit random article on wikipedia a few times, google stuff, go on facebook, IM my peeps and play a few rounds of Tetris.
6. LATER
By now, a couple of hours have passed and I feel like I have accomplished something. I go sit in bed and cry.
7. SLEEP
Eventually, I fall asleep and dream that I am a man who has just given birth to triplets.
8. WAKE UP
Cry some more. I eat my stash of chocolate and then cry because I am out of chocolate.
9. SIT IN BED
I usually like to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling until around two AM. Then, my brain kicks in and I am ready for action.
1O. WRITE A SHORT STORY
Yeah, then I pretty much just write the fucker.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
When the Bus Comes etc
kay, so the short play I wrote (When the Bus Comes) is starting tomorrow. It's playing with the four other winners in its category, at Barracks Square in Fredericton, every day at noon from tomorrow to Friday.
Been thinking a bit about plays and so on and thought I might attempt a longer piece at some point in the future. I had an idea for a lengthier play - it was going to be called Quarantine and be about a small group of people quarantined in their apartment due to the outbreak of an extremely contagious plague. I came up with this shortly before the movie Quarantine hit theatres.
Ironically, the idea for the play itself was lifted from "Pleasureland" by Kate Atkinson (from Not the End of the World which is a pretty sick book. I recommend). Obviously I changed it a lot but I got the inspiration from that originally. But fuck, maybe I'll just do it anyway. The thing I'm writing now is basically just a riff on "The Yellow Wallpaper" - in "Yellow Wallpaper" a sickly woman and her husband go out to stay in the country for a while, she sees women lurking in the wallpaper, and goes crazy; in my story, a sickly man and his girlfriend go out to stay in the country for a while, he sees men lurking in the orchard, and goes crazy. It's essentially the same story but with the genders reversed.
Honestly I'm not sure why I chose to reverse the genders. I just felt like writing from a male perspective I guess. I often do.
Anyway. What is the point of this post? To say that I am a hack. Who is reading this post? Likely no one. It will spring forth into the cold void of the internet and lie there until... okay. This is getting weird.
Here's a sample of what I wrote yesterday (I know I shouldn't post my work on the internet but my shit isn't really worth stealing. However, if this should ever come up as a court thing, my name is Andrea Gigeroff and I transcribed this at 3.21 PM, July 26th, 2009):
"Rob was out on the porch again when Myra came back. He had gone back out as soon as the sun came up. Somehow the orchard was not quite as disturbing in daylight. Besides, there wasn't much to see after dark and what good was that?
"In the daylight, he saw so much. He saw birds swerve to avoid flying over the trees. He saw the leaves moving when the wind had stopped. He saw the same shadowy man creeping around behind the first row of trees*. And then he saw more of them. They were milling around back there, walking back and forth, crossing one another, occasionally stopping to peer out at him.
"It was a ripple of movement, a shudder. Disgusting. It made his skin crawl. There was something vaguely insect-like in their motions, the way they crept around. Bulbous bodies on spidly legs. He was sure they had many eyes.
"It made him sick to watch them but he knew that if he stopped watching, they would come forth, a wave of them, crawling over one another, rushing towards him, overtaking him, consuming him, the very second he let his guard down. He had to blink one eye at a time. It took a great deal of concentration, keeping his eyes open and focused, his brain in the centre of consciousness"
So a little bit of weirdness for today, from me to you. I can't even remember what the crap this post was supposed to be about. Oh yeah, When the Bus Comes. Uhm. I hope I'll get to see it tomorrow but the chances of that are not especially good. I will just have to work something out. Also, my dad's play is showing tomorrow night. I will probably not get to see that either which kind of sucks. I just keep thinking that if I did what I said I was going to do when I said I was going to do it, I would have a driver's license by now instead of just this lousy learner's permit. Suck.
* "There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will. Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day. It is always the same shape, only very numerous. And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping around behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit" -- The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Gilman
Been thinking a bit about plays and so on and thought I might attempt a longer piece at some point in the future. I had an idea for a lengthier play - it was going to be called Quarantine and be about a small group of people quarantined in their apartment due to the outbreak of an extremely contagious plague. I came up with this shortly before the movie Quarantine hit theatres.
Ironically, the idea for the play itself was lifted from "Pleasureland" by Kate Atkinson (from Not the End of the World which is a pretty sick book. I recommend). Obviously I changed it a lot but I got the inspiration from that originally. But fuck, maybe I'll just do it anyway. The thing I'm writing now is basically just a riff on "The Yellow Wallpaper" - in "Yellow Wallpaper" a sickly woman and her husband go out to stay in the country for a while, she sees women lurking in the wallpaper, and goes crazy; in my story, a sickly man and his girlfriend go out to stay in the country for a while, he sees men lurking in the orchard, and goes crazy. It's essentially the same story but with the genders reversed.
Honestly I'm not sure why I chose to reverse the genders. I just felt like writing from a male perspective I guess. I often do.
Anyway. What is the point of this post? To say that I am a hack. Who is reading this post? Likely no one. It will spring forth into the cold void of the internet and lie there until... okay. This is getting weird.
Here's a sample of what I wrote yesterday (I know I shouldn't post my work on the internet but my shit isn't really worth stealing. However, if this should ever come up as a court thing, my name is Andrea Gigeroff and I transcribed this at 3.21 PM, July 26th, 2009):
"Rob was out on the porch again when Myra came back. He had gone back out as soon as the sun came up. Somehow the orchard was not quite as disturbing in daylight. Besides, there wasn't much to see after dark and what good was that?
"In the daylight, he saw so much. He saw birds swerve to avoid flying over the trees. He saw the leaves moving when the wind had stopped. He saw the same shadowy man creeping around behind the first row of trees*. And then he saw more of them. They were milling around back there, walking back and forth, crossing one another, occasionally stopping to peer out at him.
"It was a ripple of movement, a shudder. Disgusting. It made his skin crawl. There was something vaguely insect-like in their motions, the way they crept around. Bulbous bodies on spidly legs. He was sure they had many eyes.
"It made him sick to watch them but he knew that if he stopped watching, they would come forth, a wave of them, crawling over one another, rushing towards him, overtaking him, consuming him, the very second he let his guard down. He had to blink one eye at a time. It took a great deal of concentration, keeping his eyes open and focused, his brain in the centre of consciousness"
So a little bit of weirdness for today, from me to you. I can't even remember what the crap this post was supposed to be about. Oh yeah, When the Bus Comes. Uhm. I hope I'll get to see it tomorrow but the chances of that are not especially good. I will just have to work something out. Also, my dad's play is showing tomorrow night. I will probably not get to see that either which kind of sucks. I just keep thinking that if I did what I said I was going to do when I said I was going to do it, I would have a driver's license by now instead of just this lousy learner's permit. Suck.
* "There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will. Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day. It is always the same shape, only very numerous. And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping around behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit" -- The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Gilman
Saturday, July 25, 2009
For lack of anything better to post...
Here's a picture of a fat, hairy naked guy (I gave him nipple rings but you can't really tell on account of the hair) shooting another guy in the head for no reason.It is yet another reason I should not be allowed to use MS Paint.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sketchy Sketch
Okay, it's about time I started plugging this e-zine I've been working on (not that I think anybody is really reading this blog, but... well... if there are any people who don't actually know me in real life (Z? Are you there?)). I forgot about it while I was posting earlier and thought I should mention it now before I forget again. I am dumb sometimes. Scratch that, I am dumb most of the time. I have vaguely flickers of semi-sentience every now and then but the rest of the time, I'm not even really aware of my surroundings let alone able to process abstract concepts.
So, here's the official promo I have been kicking around the internet:
"I am going to be starting an e-mail based art zine called ‘Sketchy Sketch’ and am looking for submissions. I am accepting submissions in the form of anything, fiction, non-fiction, poems, drawings, comics, weird photographs, reviews of anything, interviews with yourself and/or others, blog entries, promotional whatnot, dating ads, an itemized list of what’s in your pocket, whatever. If I can open it on my computer, I’ll put it in. Same goes for content. If you send it, I’ll run it no matter how tasteless it is. Except for maybe racist or homophobic propaganda.
Send submissions to sketchysketchzine@gmail.com, along with a short author bio (if you don’t include one, I’ll make one up). Deadline is August 15th. If you would like a copy (they are free), send an message reading ‘Klaatu Barada ur Mom’ to the above e-mail address and I’ll put you on the mailing list. Go-go gadget awesome."
So there we go. Wowness for the wow.
So, here's the official promo I have been kicking around the internet:
"I am going to be starting an e-mail based art zine called ‘Sketchy Sketch’ and am looking for submissions. I am accepting submissions in the form of anything, fiction, non-fiction, poems, drawings, comics, weird photographs, reviews of anything, interviews with yourself and/or others, blog entries, promotional whatnot, dating ads, an itemized list of what’s in your pocket, whatever. If I can open it on my computer, I’ll put it in. Same goes for content. If you send it, I’ll run it no matter how tasteless it is. Except for maybe racist or homophobic propaganda.
Send submissions to sketchysketchzine@gmail.com, along with a short author bio (if you don’t include one, I’ll make one up). Deadline is August 15th. If you would like a copy (they are free), send an message reading ‘Klaatu Barada ur Mom’ to the above e-mail address and I’ll put you on the mailing list. Go-go gadget awesome."
So there we go. Wowness for the wow.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
What I Am Currently Working On
Okay, so, I'm trying to write but am stuck at the moment coz the only thing I can think of is where in the name of fucking jesus fuck my USB cord is. I lost it some time ago, made a pathetic attempt to find the thing, and then gave up, figuring hey, what the fuck, I don't really use my camera that much anyway.
But now I really need my camera, you know, to take photos of shit, and I can't for the life of me think of where the fucking piece of fucking shit could be. I dunno, it feel into a portal in the fabric of the universe or something.
So, while I'm waiting for my brain to re-align itself into a state condusive for writing things other than strings of profanity, I figured I'd just post on what I'm currently working on, creatively speaking.
Thing Number 1: A novella I'm tentatively calling 'The Orchard'. It started out as a short story and has sort of morphed into something longer and more boring. It's about a small town in N.S. with this haunted apple orchard. Think 'Children of the Corn' but set in Canada.
Anyway, I've actually only written, like, twenty pages or so and I'm already starting to wonder when the fuck it's going to be over. This is never a good sign, however, since it is really typical of me I've taken to disreagrding it as such.
Thing Number 2: Recently, I started up drawing comics again. I used to draw them ages ago when I was a wee bairn, but things got away from me pretty quick. You know how at that age you have this huge ideas - I wanted to write, like, 100-page graphic novels and lengthy, epic serieses - but no skill whatsoever? It's the most frustrating thing in the world.
I tried to remedy this (oh how I tried) by purchasing fancy equipment. I got a whole bunch of expensive art markers (I still buy markers for drawing even though I don't draw with markers) in several shades of gray and special marker paper, all at the expense of my mother (of course, she suggested it, so...). But it didn't help so eventually the frustration overcame me and I gave up, going back to just drawing geometric shapes with crayon.
Now (several art classes later), things have gone the other way. My skills have improved to the point where I can actually draw the same characters more than once, but my ideas have gotten a hell of a lot smaller. I don't really want to work on anything longer than about three pages.
Interestingly, things improved a whole lot when I went back to drawing with pen instead of trying to use marker or pencil (I do use both of these from time to time, but only to supplement the pen).
So anyway, I've been drawing a bunch of little comics I call 'Out Fer a Smoke' about these people (Lee and Joss) standing around outside their house smoking and talking about what happened to them earlier in the day. It is easy and fun to draw (mainly because both characters have lots of piercings and such, which I enjoy drawing).
So much fun. Other than that, I'm not up to a whole lot, other than looking for my damn USB cord and cursing the sticky comma on this keyboard (the comma is one of my favourite characters of punctuation and I tend to use it a lot, making its stickiness extremely infuriating). Best I return to work. Woo hoo hoo.
But now I really need my camera, you know, to take photos of shit, and I can't for the life of me think of where the fucking piece of fucking shit could be. I dunno, it feel into a portal in the fabric of the universe or something.
So, while I'm waiting for my brain to re-align itself into a state condusive for writing things other than strings of profanity, I figured I'd just post on what I'm currently working on, creatively speaking.
Thing Number 1: A novella I'm tentatively calling 'The Orchard'. It started out as a short story and has sort of morphed into something longer and more boring. It's about a small town in N.S. with this haunted apple orchard. Think 'Children of the Corn' but set in Canada.
Anyway, I've actually only written, like, twenty pages or so and I'm already starting to wonder when the fuck it's going to be over. This is never a good sign, however, since it is really typical of me I've taken to disreagrding it as such.
Thing Number 2: Recently, I started up drawing comics again. I used to draw them ages ago when I was a wee bairn, but things got away from me pretty quick. You know how at that age you have this huge ideas - I wanted to write, like, 100-page graphic novels and lengthy, epic serieses - but no skill whatsoever? It's the most frustrating thing in the world.
I tried to remedy this (oh how I tried) by purchasing fancy equipment. I got a whole bunch of expensive art markers (I still buy markers for drawing even though I don't draw with markers) in several shades of gray and special marker paper, all at the expense of my mother (of course, she suggested it, so...). But it didn't help so eventually the frustration overcame me and I gave up, going back to just drawing geometric shapes with crayon.
Now (several art classes later), things have gone the other way. My skills have improved to the point where I can actually draw the same characters more than once, but my ideas have gotten a hell of a lot smaller. I don't really want to work on anything longer than about three pages.
Interestingly, things improved a whole lot when I went back to drawing with pen instead of trying to use marker or pencil (I do use both of these from time to time, but only to supplement the pen).
So anyway, I've been drawing a bunch of little comics I call 'Out Fer a Smoke' about these people (Lee and Joss) standing around outside their house smoking and talking about what happened to them earlier in the day. It is easy and fun to draw (mainly because both characters have lots of piercings and such, which I enjoy drawing).
So much fun. Other than that, I'm not up to a whole lot, other than looking for my damn USB cord and cursing the sticky comma on this keyboard (the comma is one of my favourite characters of punctuation and I tend to use it a lot, making its stickiness extremely infuriating). Best I return to work. Woo hoo hoo.
Hi, my name is...
Generic introductory post time. First off, I have four other blogs which I post to semi-regularly - Blog of Horror (movie reviews), Shitty Knits (knitting), This Stuff Will Kill You (food) and The Wendells (music of my own design).
And this blog will be for everything else.
I got it because I'm not totally satisfied with the Blog of Horror and thought I might be able to import it onto Blogger but I haven't figured that out so whatever. Fuck it. But I figured hey, why not start another blog, because I'm all about multitasking.
So, yeah, this will be writings mostly, maybe some art when I feel like it, and pointless observations on the banality of my life. Oh boy!
Anyway, I guess this is as long as I really want it to be. I'll put some information on the 'about' site at some point to give you, the reader (should you actually exist) some kind of insight as to who the fuck I am.
Go now and be at peace
And this blog will be for everything else.
I got it because I'm not totally satisfied with the Blog of Horror and thought I might be able to import it onto Blogger but I haven't figured that out so whatever. Fuck it. But I figured hey, why not start another blog, because I'm all about multitasking.
So, yeah, this will be writings mostly, maybe some art when I feel like it, and pointless observations on the banality of my life. Oh boy!
Anyway, I guess this is as long as I really want it to be. I'll put some information on the 'about' site at some point to give you, the reader (should you actually exist) some kind of insight as to who the fuck I am.
Go now and be at peace
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