Blood Lust

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Here is a small story I did for the the HitRecord.org website.  It didn’t really get any attention on there, but hey maybe you guys will like it!  Along with that, feel free to check out my other tiny/short stories and collaborations over at their site.  My name is LastWord there!

Cheers!

“Again!” she cried.

He glanced at her flushed face. The scarlet hue of her cheeks made her green, lust filled eyes pop at him.  She was really enjoying this.  He turned back to the “man” sitting in front of him.  Her husband was already beaten to a bloody pulp, but still she wanted more.

He almost felt bad for the poor sap.  But then all of her black eyes and bruised cheeks came to the forefront of his memories, the most recent was a set of broken ribs she had been given after the bastard had drunkenly attacked her.  He looked down at his bloody and busted knuckles.

The man deserves this he thought, and his rage rose up once more and turned his normally gentle hands into instruments of pain.

He stalked in on the man, his hands and legs tied to the wooden chair he was propped up in.  As each blow connected with the man’s face and torso, they slammed with a meaty thump, but their noise was nothing to compare with the sounds of ecstasy the woman began crying out behind him.  Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as she ran her hands over breasts and the smell of her arousal splashed in some lust with his anger.  His attack would continue for a long time, until neither she nor her husband could take anymore.

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Ink-stained Pages and Button Mashing

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Wow. Two months to the day since I’ve blogged.  I do apologize for my absence.  It’s the same old same old. Work, work, work.  Plus we are trying to decide if it’s time for my son to go to Kindergarten next year or do another round of Pre-K.  He’s really bright, as his teacher called him “out of the box” smart, but he lack certain social skills that would make all day Kindergarten hard for him.  Mix that and playtime and spouse time into the few hours I get each day and it life still remains a struggle.

But that’s not what is important.  What is important is that I’m trying again.

I have two stories out to an acquaintance who is beta reading them for me, in order to give me some constructive feedback (I still don’t plan on doing anything with them right now) and I recently picked up a copy of “Read. Set. Novel!” by the folks at NaNoWriMo! I’m looking forward to finding some free time to try to utilize the book to help me better plan and outline the novel that sings from my soul and cries from the prison of my mind.

Not much admittedly and I could try harder, but my head might literally explode from never slowing down.  But there is one more thing I’m trying to get better at, though I still remain rather unsuccessful. Video games.

If you’ve read in the past, you know that I have a video game problem.  I find it too easy to get swept up in the stories of the many video games I own, and it keeps me from writing my own.  This would be fine if my first idea for writing had panned out.  I had wanted to write for Forgotten Realms or a video game publisher so that I could mix the two interests, but when I actually started a novel back then, Dungeons and Dragons stopped taking unsolicited submissions, and the latter requires a college degree which I foresee no time  to obtain.

So, instead, I’m trying to remain vigilant.  Every time I think of playing a game, I challenge myself to write instead.  Most of the time I fail, but I’m still trying.

It’s what I’ve got for now, so I’ll have to make it do.

What about you guys?  What vices do you have that keep you from writing?  Or what suggestions do you have for me to become stronger and more self-confident in my writing so that I give it more time?  Leave me a comment or just take the time to hit the like button to let me know your support!

Cheers!

Guns, guns, guns.

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You can’t look very many places without seeing or hearing something about the epic struggle of pro-guns vs. gun control.  I understand the need for both sides.  People want to protect their husbands, wives and children.  And the sad thing is that both sides want that same thing, but refuse to admit and understand that fact.

To be honest, I am an individual that is pro gun control .  I can’t help but feel , despite all of our social and technological advancements, that we are a society that has degraded.  People aren’t intelligent enough to be trusted with weapons.  But that is not what this is about.  I’m not going to argue with anyone about guns, because I just don’t care that much.  There are enough people fighting over this in the world.

The one thing I am truly concerned with is much more basic and much more simple.  Half, if not more, of the country seems to be for keeping guns of all kinds, so that they can protect what’s theirs.  They fear that the police are an inadequate force to protect them, and they fear they may need the guns for their country’s sake.  Understandable, but my biggest concern is that having a firearm is much different from actually discharging a firearm.  I worry that too many people are too quick to say that they could really take a life, even to protect their own or their family’s.

Taking a life will irrevocably change an individual’s life.  And I have no doubt that a vast majority of the people who want firearms will actually use them, but I’m scared that if they have to, what will happen to them.  I fear that their need to will change our already rocky society for the worst.  I know I would hesitate to pull the trigger, because too much changes if you do.

So, readers, though you may be few, let me know what you think.  Are my fears completely unfounded?  Or not?  Remember no arguing on my site.  This isn’t to get people riled up.  This is to get honest opinions and beliefs.

Cheers.

Life is full of distractions. Deal with it.

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I recently read an article on Yahoo News about a new gaming console that is coming out (WOOHOO!).  With any of these such articles I love to read the comments section, to see the general public’s feelings on such things.  They usually involve a whole lot of snide remarks from people that think their words are worth hearing, much like this blog!  The comments in this article did not fail to impress.

I won’t quote any such comments, one because I don’t like to quote sources without their approval, and two I’m really lazy, however their was one that like all other articles had to link the this particular article to politics.  Basically the one that struck a chord with me said something about video games were just a a distraction to keep the public’s eyes off of our countries real problems.

This is the single stupidest thing I’ve read this morning, mostly because I only woke up thirty minutes ago, but it is stupid to me none the less.  Of course, it is a distractions, but what is life if not just one giant pool of distractions intended to keep us semi-unaware of the reality of life.  It sucks.  But the distractions are what makes life worth living.  If there was only one problem after another, with nothing in between, then what would be the point of living.  There you have it, my own personal thoughts on the meaning of life.

Another reason that this is stupid is simply, that every individual does not need to worry themselves over every single cotton-picking problem that this country or world faces.  We don’t need that burden, and most of us don’t want it.  It’s not my job to worry about this countries financial problems, I have a hard enough dealing with my own financial problems.  I pay taxes that ensure that someone else that has been appointed by my votes to take care of my city’s, state’s and country’s problems.  “But what if they aren’t doing a good enough job dealing with our issues, Justin?  Shouldn’t you be worried about your money or choices?”  No!  Regardless of most actions that I take in life, this country’s problems will continue on, despite my care or despite who is in office.

Thirdly, I am certainly glad that there are distractions in this world.  As a writer, I’d hate to think that my content would be only white noise on peoples hearts.  What we do as writers and entertainers is intended to build layers upon the human soul, helping them filter the world through another layer to dampen the pain that is life’s plight.

Lastly, on a note that is very much a tangent, I must point out, that people really only get worried about a problem when it involves money or guns.  The public will tell you that problems like freedom of speech or other such “little” things are of little concern.  But when they feel their money or guns are threatened they question why you care about a video game console.

I repeat, life is full of distractions, so deal with it, and accept that I am allowed to not care about every god damned problem in the world.  Thank you.

Now I’m going back to bed, because I’m still tired from work and that article and this blog post now have me a bit too riled up to be polite to the rest of the world.

Fucking cheers!

No such thing as fate?

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You guys have heard me say it before, I’m sure.  If not then I’ll say it again, I love the concept of fate.  It’s as intangible as anything can come, but I can’t help but feel that is there.  The instances that have spurred this post may seem trivial to some of you, but they have meaning to me.

One of my favorite movies is “500 Days of Summer”.  It is a movie about fate, love and soul mates.  If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favor, and watch it.  I love this movie because at the climax of the story the protagonist, Tom, begins to doubt his faith in fate and soul mates.  At this point he undergoes a transformation of character, a paradigm shift if you will, and his mind stops focusing on his heartache and narrows it’s sights on the one true goal that he has stopped going after: a career as an architect and embracing the art he loves.

Anybody that knows me can tell you that I relate to Tom’s character more than any other character I’ve ever watched.  This is why this is one of my favorite movies.  In Tom, I see myself.  In love with my craft, but to afraid to truly go after it.

Now, this instance by itself is not enough to spur me into action.  Tom’s story, while it emotionally moves me, is still just a story.  It doesn’t connect to anything.  However, after watching it for the second time the other day, it did motivate me to start reading up on writing styles, techniques, etc. and so I picked up a book that has been long overdue for me to read, “On Writing” by Stephen King.  Another thing, that if you haven’t taken the time to partake, you should.  I haven’t finished reading it yet, but there is one message that King has made sure was inescapable to any reader, creativity and ideas don’t always come from within.  Sometimes it takes two seemingly unrelated events or themes to create a fully developed idea.

Now flash forward, or back again depending on how you look at it, and I found myself watching “500 Days of Summer” for a third time, and finished it not but twenty minutes ago.  However, as I was watching it, my computer monitor, sitting on my desk to the right of my entertainment stand, was flashing through my picture albums on it’s screensaver and an image appeared that triggered an idea in my mind.  Here is the image.

abstract ink personThese things, King’s ideal, the image and the movies idea of fate instantly clicked  in my mind, and I tucked them all away until the end of the movie (sorry, it’s a good movie!).  Afterwards I hopped on my PC here and instantly thought of starting up my story with this new breath of inspiration.  But before I started writing, I thought about what I wanted my message about fate to be.  I instantly thought of a quote that I vaguely remember hearing before about there being two types of fate.  So, I instead turned to my browser.

Okay, so here’s the climax and the Grand Poobah of the story.  I typed in Google, the phrase “quotes about two types of fate”, and guess what my top number one search result was for.  It came from IMDB for the page for “500 Days of Summer”!  You can imagine my instant reaction with euphoric exaltation.

I know it still might seem trivial, but it’s the small things that link the big things together.  So, I encourage each of you to look around your life or the lives of those around you and find the themes that link everything together for you!

Cheers!

 

The machinisms of Catch-22s

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Sometimes life is a bitter pill.  You make plans, you devise ideas of how things in your life should go, and then the world throws several rusty wrenches into your well oiled machine.  Like all things that machine breaks down and your production line comes to a screeching halt.  This, my friends, has been my life for the last month and a half.

My life truly has become a veritable Catch-22.  My financial situation has forced me to take a second job for the betterment of my families life.  Ergo, I need time to make money, but the writer side of me screams that I need money to make time for writing.  Like one paradoxical chain of frustration, I find myself quickly becoming embittered to far more things than I ever thought myself.

I work two jobs for a total of sixty-five hours a week.  I see my wife and kids for aproximately two hours a day, before collapsing from exhaustion.  For my regular readers, you guys know that I have never gone this long without blogging, and for that I am truly sorry.  I want to do so many things, but the sheer thought of the work and energy that they require binds my hands and tapes my mouth shut like a victim about to be raped by the phalanx of life.

I wanted to do NaNoWriMo again this year.  I had been drafting and planning for weeks, and for the first time in months I felt like my story was going to actually have focus and purpose.  Now I watch my ideas sit in a notebook, growing stagnant like a pool of blood that my time and soul had wrought.

In case my myriad of analogies have failed to make their point, I hate my life.  I see no way to escape this paradox.  I need to write to get myself out of this situation, but my financial responsibilities stop me from making the money I need to support the only possible escape I can foresee.  I don’t hate the people around me, nor their actions, in fact I revel in my twitter acquaintances tweets about their NaNo successes, and a real life friend is actually working on the final read through of the novel  he has been slaving over for at least two years now, and I couldn’t be happier for him, but I feel no joy in life without time to creatively express the words my soul longs to sing.

I thought I could still manage NaNo this year by writing on my breaks and lunch at my full-time job, then I could type them up for an hour a day at home, but even my lunches at my job are consumed by my work.  I really have no idea how to get out of this machine.

I truly apologize for this blog, which as I complete I feel has become little more than a rant, but I wanted to let you guys all know that I had not died and I wanted your suggestions.  How do you starving artists and writers do it?  For those of you with families, how do you find the time and resources to take care of them and still support your creativity?  Any help and ideas will not be turned away.

Lastly, before anybody gets too upset with me for my comments, understand that I do know that I have much to be thankful for, it’s just hard to remain thankful when the weight of everything else keeps pressing down on me.

Thanks to those of you that still support me, and I look forward to your comments.

Reality of violence

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I started working on a new story the other day.  I had read a n article over at Mythic Scribes about how first time authors should stop focusing so much on epic trilogies and start with smaller novels or single stand alone novels.  The article got a lot of heat from frequent readers and bloggers at MS, but it kind of made sense to me.  So, I put my current WIP (which I had recently grown a little burnt out over) away and decided to try something a bit more simple.

I decided to re-explore one of the first theme ideas I had had for my first novel, violence.  Really it’s more about vengeance, but the two go hand in hand.  In order to hit the mark with the story, I wanted to make sure I understand it as well as the message that I want to convey in the story.

So, I thought as most writers usually do, about the beginning.  Where does violence begin?  I was instantly drawn to thoughts of my son and watching him grow up.  He doesn’t play with a lot of action figures or toy guns, but he seems to inherently know what they are supposed to do.  This got me thinking how we grow up with violence, but when does it become real?  At what point do the superheroes stop capturing the bad guys and when do they soldiers pull out their automatic rifles and start taking lives.

I can’t remember when it happened for me, but I remember watching the Power Rangers as a kid (*cough* nerdy teenager *cough*) and then there is only only memories of fictional bloodshed from samurai, sword fighting and martial arts movies.  Maybe it just comes with age or maybe our genes are coded with the memories of violence that our ancestors experienced.  Or maybe we’re programmed subliminally during our day to day lives.

*Shrugs*

What do you guys think?  Where did it start for you?  Share your personal experiences or insights.

Cheers!