Bhagwan @ Large

20 something progress

Look, I don’t care if you think it’s funny. I’m continuing with the theme, and that’s that.

It’s my idiom.

Anoher 2500 words today, split evenly between netbook and iPod. Yesterday’s switch in focus put this story back on the fast track, and the challenge today was in not writing, rather than finding the time or inspiration to do so.

Like every time I do this, the pep talks from NaNo are completely on target. There’s always a period of “this sucks,” followed by “i hate this” sprinkled with “what the hell was I thinking.”

All behind me now in November’s awkward teen phase. I made a conscious decision tonight to stop writing, choosing to watch television and recharge the creative batteries in the middle of a scene, only pushing long enough to complete a sentence.

I’m itching to write the next words. This bodes well.

In other news, Linz and I went to see “The Blind Side” tonight, and it was exactly as advertised. Tears-a-brimming, “based on a true story” goodness. Only this time, it was as current as yesterday’s headlines. Based on Michael Lewis’ (Moneyball, Liar’s Poker) book of the same name, it hit hard and often at all the teary spots.

So, I liked it. Go watch it, especially if you’re not alone. Like Bull Durham before it, this chick flick has enough sports and manly bits to interest all comers.

Pretty much all I’ve got to say about that. Sandra Bullock as Cougar Milf Hottie was completely deliverable, and against all odds Tim McGraw kept up with every chewed scene. Also, there was some kid playing a high schooler.

I should learn his name.

P.S. It’s Quinton Aaron, and he’s going to win a lot of awards for this performance.

P.P.S. QA, just kidding about the above. You were awesome, dude. Please don’t slam me to the turf.

P.P.P.S. Michael Oher, You sir have millions of new fans, and even if I was not partial to the Ravens, I’d be watching you for the rest of the season. Your cinema avatar is well worth watching, and your life should inspire anyone who ever had a dream to…well…dream.

P.P.P.P.S. This here merlot was tasty. Was being the active verb.

P.P.P.P.P.S Los Gatos are running, jumping, mewing and being altogether feline. Were there hidden spy cameras to record all their hilarious furry antics, I’m sure there would be LOLing. As there are not (to my knowledge), just smile, nod, and comment LOL.

So there.

Stalwart 17

50118. Words, that is.

I have crossed the finish line, although I’ve been limping for about a week. I’d wager the last 10K words I’ve written will never see print, casualties or sacrifices given to the altar of constructive criticism and the editor’s practiced eye.

I’d hoped, yet again, to write much more today. Accustomed to easy-flowing words and scenes, I’ve come to the hard part of writing. What was once effortless is now a hard, grinding endurance trial. What was fun is now work, and not the kind of labor for which I receive ready compensation.

But looking back over the last two weeks, I got paid in advance. I was, and am, a writer again. I am creating, weaving life into intangible concepts, putting words and dialog and emotions into people who exist only in my mind.

They live inside 50118 words, backed up across several platforms of plastic, wires, and uncaring electrons. Behind a technological barrier they live and thrive, waiting for me to visit them again and tell them what to do.

Tomorrow, we will meet, exchange pleasantries and go to work. They will ask me how their days were, and I will tell them stories of memories they’ve yet to remember.

I am a writer. It’s what I do.

so really, 50118 and counting.