So, as my Twitter followers will already know, and for that matter anyone who follows the hashtag #FuckYouTyphoon, I had a nice holiday during a typhoon period. Just to be clear, I had booked the holiday way in advance, before I knew the typhoon was coming, though I would understand if some of you thought I chose to go out in it. I just didn’t want to waste my money; here in Japan you are expected to go to work in a typhoon and you are expected to show up for reservations unless it is physically impossible to keep them – even then they will still argue that you owe them the money.
Everything would be alright when they got home. John gripped the steering wheel for another corner on the rural lane, repeating the thought in his head. It had been a tough weekend, harder than any of them had anticipated, but it was under control, all over. They just had to get home and they could relax. He looked at the dashboard clock. They had plenty of time. Dusk was settling in, but they were almost home and there hadn’t been any noise from back there since they had left the camp site. The last hurdle was a toll gate on the edge of town.
Yeah, so I did that, and I’ve been mulling over what to do about it for a while now. As followers will know, I applied for an online Master’s course in Creative Writing at the start of the year, but while they were in the process of deciding if they wanted me (let’s face it, they would have said yes) I got an email from them saying that they had cancelled the course
I told you I was freaky, baby. Last night was a relative cornucopia of freaky images in my head box. First I dreamt I was protecting a baby again (shut up, biological clock) only this time, I was on a beach and had to fight a giant octopus so we could sail our makeshift raft to safety.
Everything an artist does is useful. Every failure is a lesson learned, every exercise and job is practice. All you have to do is put in the time, and if you don’t you might get bitter but you have to accept that it’s your own fault. That’s hard. I know because that is my main problem. Just don’t add stress to your worries by comparing your progress to another artist’s. everyone works and learns at a different pace. Just do something and you will improve. The more you do, the more you improve and the faster you improve. Simple!
The following is a sketch script I wrote for a challenge on HitRECord.org. Please check out my account there and support me. With enough attention and likes my work might be featured in short films and other final, already-funded productions.
Today there were two crazy people on the bus at the same time, when normally there is only one. I don’t know if the bus company made a mistake in their order and accidentally requested another crazy person without knowing that someone else had already filled the order, but there it is. I feel a…
About a month back I saw a beautiful girl and couldn’t help staring. I immediately wrote about the encounter in a series of tweets, adding my narrative flair.
I’m totally bummed. Distraught even. More sad than a Pygmy at a World’s Tallest Beauty contest. More sad than a German sausage at a German sausage fest when the laiderhausened tourists storm in after a week of dieting. I discovered a web site and writers’ contest called World’s Best Story, which basically looks like a…
Today I had this customer who wanted me to delay a payment on her order and she had a strange way of trying to persuade me. Naturally, I can’t change the fact that money must be paid for services rendered. This is the basis of all business. I can no more change it than I could convince gravity to go upwards for a bit.
I have a theory that everything we do is to get back into the womb. If you think about babies and how they develop this makes everything more clear. Babies love to be wrapped up tight in a blanket, swaddled, because it reminds them of the tight space of the womb where they were so comfortable.
I can’t remember where I learned it. Oh wait, I can. Great opening, Ems. You really planned that one well. It was while I was collaborating on my quirky, supernatural noir thriller about a man who has to conquer his literal demons to get out of the subconscious world he’s trapped in. I met this mysterious girl called Lindsey who wanted to collaborate on something fantastic – by which I mean she just generally wanted to do fantasy. I brought the amazing story – of course.