It's been a rough month in terms of writing. I originally envisioned doing a month-long short story series revolving around a few characters I've been dying to introduce, a story set somewhat in real-time that charts their break-up, an exploration of the aftermath, and ... well, I hadn't decided whether or not they'd get back together. Anyway, that obviously hasn't surfaced and, given that it's already halfway through December, is unlikely to. I'll keep the story for the timeline, but doing it in real-time is out of the question. (Though I probably could go back and modify the date/time of each post... I'm sure nobody would notice, heh.)
One of my resolutions for 2010 is to finish my first novel, a semi-autobiographical work I started in college and have been on-again, off-again with for the last four years. That being said, I'm going to try and muster up the motivation to shoot for 200 pages by the end of next year, and because of that I may not update Shen Lu De as much as I'd like to. But don't fret, I will still try and finish some of the shorts I've been working on! Verdant Heights is very important to my world, and I've been devising ways to expand on the project, including making a dedicated website/wiki for it. Rest assured, there will be many more stories, many more scenes, many more characters yet to see.
As for now, I'm going to close out the new year by prepping myself for the novel. A lot needs to be revised, and the majority of it will probably be scrapped and/or recycled into something completely different. My outlook has changed a lot in the last half-decade. Thanks for sticking around though. See you in 2010.
~ Will
Monday, December 14, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Another Phone That Never Rings
It is nighttime and the writer sits at his desk wondering where the hell the day went. His eyes are tired and his nose itches and he is struggling to type something, anything, whatever. The words come slowly, uneven, and in his mind they sound amateurish and juvenile, like a thirteen-year-old's Live Journal entry. It's been a long time since he's written anything worth writing.
He stops for the hundredth time and picks up his cell phone, but it has nothing new to report. Its scratched up screen looks back at him apathetically, doesn't care about his problems or his love or social lives. It's just doing its thing, being a cell phone. The writer sighs and sets it down, watching the screen go dull from inactivity.
Time flows on - a given. Outside in the world are a multitude of givens. Somewhere there are people laughing amongst themselves. Someone is drinking a beer and watching Monday Night Football, cursing at the television because their fantasy team is going to be screwed up. Couples are making out in cars, fucking in bedrooms and wherever else you can get away with it. A girl is wishing the guy she likes would call, but he won't because he's wishing the girl he likes would call. A man drives alone along a highway in a desert, hoping to get away from everything, but he knows it'll eventually catch up with him. A woman sits alone at a bar sipping a glass of white wine, her red dress matching her red lipstick. On the other side of the world the sun is shining bright. On this side of the world the stars look down at the Heights.
The writer thinks of all these things, of all these moments he'll never see from his tiny apartment on the corner of Lee and Main, and he feels more alone than ever. It creeps into his skin, cold as ice, digging deeper until it hits bone, the loneliness spreading throughout his body. He wonders what has gone so horribly wrong in his life and for a moment considers a million different options and the millions of different outcomes they would produce. He wonders if anyone would really care.
But no, that sounds too depressing. Backspace, backspace, backspace. He looks at the half-empty document and sighs again, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag, watching the smoke drift towards the ceiling fan. Lately he's been smoking a lot, and he's starting to wonder if he's getting addicted, but he doesn't think so. He can quit anytime.
He picks up the cell phone again and wonders if he should call or text her, but decides against it. Give her space, be patient, don't overreact, all that stuff. She'll talk when she's ready, right? He sets the phone down and finishes his cigarette, lights another one. Back to work, he tells himself.
It is nighttime and the writer sits at his desk trying to write, and wishing she would call him.
He stops for the hundredth time and picks up his cell phone, but it has nothing new to report. Its scratched up screen looks back at him apathetically, doesn't care about his problems or his love or social lives. It's just doing its thing, being a cell phone. The writer sighs and sets it down, watching the screen go dull from inactivity.
Time flows on - a given. Outside in the world are a multitude of givens. Somewhere there are people laughing amongst themselves. Someone is drinking a beer and watching Monday Night Football, cursing at the television because their fantasy team is going to be screwed up. Couples are making out in cars, fucking in bedrooms and wherever else you can get away with it. A girl is wishing the guy she likes would call, but he won't because he's wishing the girl he likes would call. A man drives alone along a highway in a desert, hoping to get away from everything, but he knows it'll eventually catch up with him. A woman sits alone at a bar sipping a glass of white wine, her red dress matching her red lipstick. On the other side of the world the sun is shining bright. On this side of the world the stars look down at the Heights.
The writer thinks of all these things, of all these moments he'll never see from his tiny apartment on the corner of Lee and Main, and he feels more alone than ever. It creeps into his skin, cold as ice, digging deeper until it hits bone, the loneliness spreading throughout his body. He wonders what has gone so horribly wrong in his life and for a moment considers a million different options and the millions of different outcomes they would produce. He wonders if anyone would really care.
But no, that sounds too depressing. Backspace, backspace, backspace. He looks at the half-empty document and sighs again, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag, watching the smoke drift towards the ceiling fan. Lately he's been smoking a lot, and he's starting to wonder if he's getting addicted, but he doesn't think so. He can quit anytime.
He picks up the cell phone again and wonders if he should call or text her, but decides against it. Give her space, be patient, don't overreact, all that stuff. She'll talk when she's ready, right? He sets the phone down and finishes his cigarette, lights another one. Back to work, he tells himself.
It is nighttime and the writer sits at his desk trying to write, and wishing she would call him.
Relevant:
2009,
the writer
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Friday Night Highlights
My friend Kate's over tonight. Two of the five bottles of vodka we picked up at the corner store earlier are already empty, sideways on the kitchen floor. I like the Smirnoff better than the Skyy, but when I mention this to Kate she calls me stupid. Bitch.
We watch a few episodes of True Blood before turning off the TV and hitting up that third bottle. Down the hatch. Feel the burn. She starts giggling and I join in, not sure why. Yuko looks over at us from the dining table and gives us the stink eye. Don't you give me that look, you fat kitty. Want some vodka, girl? Well, fuck you too then.
More for us, Kate says and takes a shot without waiting for me. I think she's really drunk. Her dark skin is slightly darker, and gleaming with sweat that sticks to her long black hair. Sometimes I get jealous of her. She's so thin and cute and whenever we go out all the guys look at her instead of me. Sometimes I wonder if I have a crush on her. I'm not a lesbian or anything, I just wonder what it would be like. I'd only do it with Katie.
She hands me a shot. We drink to the end of the year even though it's still November. We can't wait for this year to end. Too much fucking drama, too much of this fucking economy. Oh my god, did you hear that one boutique downtown is going out of business? Yeah, I never see anyone in there. I feel so bad though, Jessie loves that place. I've never been in there myself, but we should go. Maybe they'll have a going out of business sale.
More giggling, the bottle's empty again. We turn the 360 on and try to play some Rock Band but we're both too drunk to pass anything even on easy mode. I try to sing along to David Bowie, but Kate keeps laughing and messing up the guitar parts and I start laughing too until the screen flashes red and the crowd boos.
We leave the game on the title screen and start on the fourth bottle of vodka. To David Bowie!
Hey, I got an idea. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a joint and a lighter. It's late enough, no one in the building'll notice. Sure, why not?
We light up, take a drag. Kate coughs, covers her mouth, hands me the joint. I take a long drag. The taste is sweet, the feeling is smooth. I pass it back to Kate and this time she doesn't cough.
Everything gets hazy. A blur of lights and colors. I think we're in the bedroom, and I'm holding Kate's cell phone. It's ringing and the name on the screen is Brody. What kind of name is Brody? Like that guy from Jaws? I answer it, and the guy on the other end sounds nervous. He asks for Kate, and she snatches the phone before I can reply.
She rushes into the bathroom and slams the door. I hear the lock click and go back into the living room. We're out of pot, so I pick up the bottle of vodka and down the rest of it, almost choking. I sit down on the couch by myself and realize I want to cry, but I hold it back.
Yuko comes over and hops up onto my lap, purring. I hug her and kiss her head. I love you, kitty.
Kate's in there a long time. The toilet flushes. She comes out and sits next to me. I notice she isn't laughing anymore. She turns to me and I can see that she's been crying. What's wrong? Nothing. She tries to hold it in and suddenly bursts into tears and hugs me. I hold her for a long time while she cries into my t-shirt.
The alcohol and pot are really fucking me up. I can't think straight. I want to cry too. I want to kiss her. I want to throw up. I want to go to sleep. With her? No, what the fuck am I thinking?
We finish off the last bottle of vodka together as the sun creeps up over the hills. The last thing I remember is Katie passed out on the couch, her eyeliner smeared over her cheeks. I have to pee really bad, but right after I barf into the bathtub and pass out on the bathroom floor.
We watch a few episodes of True Blood before turning off the TV and hitting up that third bottle. Down the hatch. Feel the burn. She starts giggling and I join in, not sure why. Yuko looks over at us from the dining table and gives us the stink eye. Don't you give me that look, you fat kitty. Want some vodka, girl? Well, fuck you too then.
More for us, Kate says and takes a shot without waiting for me. I think she's really drunk. Her dark skin is slightly darker, and gleaming with sweat that sticks to her long black hair. Sometimes I get jealous of her. She's so thin and cute and whenever we go out all the guys look at her instead of me. Sometimes I wonder if I have a crush on her. I'm not a lesbian or anything, I just wonder what it would be like. I'd only do it with Katie.
She hands me a shot. We drink to the end of the year even though it's still November. We can't wait for this year to end. Too much fucking drama, too much of this fucking economy. Oh my god, did you hear that one boutique downtown is going out of business? Yeah, I never see anyone in there. I feel so bad though, Jessie loves that place. I've never been in there myself, but we should go. Maybe they'll have a going out of business sale.
More giggling, the bottle's empty again. We turn the 360 on and try to play some Rock Band but we're both too drunk to pass anything even on easy mode. I try to sing along to David Bowie, but Kate keeps laughing and messing up the guitar parts and I start laughing too until the screen flashes red and the crowd boos.
We leave the game on the title screen and start on the fourth bottle of vodka. To David Bowie!
Hey, I got an idea. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a joint and a lighter. It's late enough, no one in the building'll notice. Sure, why not?
We light up, take a drag. Kate coughs, covers her mouth, hands me the joint. I take a long drag. The taste is sweet, the feeling is smooth. I pass it back to Kate and this time she doesn't cough.
Everything gets hazy. A blur of lights and colors. I think we're in the bedroom, and I'm holding Kate's cell phone. It's ringing and the name on the screen is Brody. What kind of name is Brody? Like that guy from Jaws? I answer it, and the guy on the other end sounds nervous. He asks for Kate, and she snatches the phone before I can reply.
She rushes into the bathroom and slams the door. I hear the lock click and go back into the living room. We're out of pot, so I pick up the bottle of vodka and down the rest of it, almost choking. I sit down on the couch by myself and realize I want to cry, but I hold it back.
Yuko comes over and hops up onto my lap, purring. I hug her and kiss her head. I love you, kitty.
Kate's in there a long time. The toilet flushes. She comes out and sits next to me. I notice she isn't laughing anymore. She turns to me and I can see that she's been crying. What's wrong? Nothing. She tries to hold it in and suddenly bursts into tears and hugs me. I hold her for a long time while she cries into my t-shirt.
The alcohol and pot are really fucking me up. I can't think straight. I want to cry too. I want to kiss her. I want to throw up. I want to go to sleep. With her? No, what the fuck am I thinking?
We finish off the last bottle of vodka together as the sun creeps up over the hills. The last thing I remember is Katie passed out on the couch, her eyeliner smeared over her cheeks. I have to pee really bad, but right after I barf into the bathtub and pass out on the bathroom floor.
Relevant:
2009,
kate marlowe
Monday, November 2, 2009
[NOVEMBER]
I apologize for the nearly three month gap in updates. This seems to happen with practically every blog I start up. Summer isn't a good season for me; it makes me lazy, unproductive, and unfocused. Yeah, that's my excuse.
I may have jumped the gun on wanting to put out a book when I have nowhere near enough material to do so, and trying to figure out what to work on first, what to focus on, and such has given me such ennui and made me feel so unorganized that I'm not sure I'm even close to being ready to put this stuff to print. It needs more time, and I need to hone my skills a bit more. Still, I'd like to thank those who were interested in being a part of the process; I'll keep all of you in mind when the time comes.
As of now I've made it a goal to organize my writing in order to not only start producing more content, but also to get better exposure in ... well, in the world. Part of the process is getting myself to write more about EVERYTHING, not just fiction or reviews or pseudo essays. Not only that, but I need to start sharing (aka WHORING MYSELF OUT) things in order to get people to read. I just kind of assume everyone I know will want to click the links I have up on this site or that, when in reality very few people bother to do so - even my own girlfriend (sorry, Mari <3)! I need to start reaching an audience if I want to achieve anything with my writing, and like I said, that starts with producing content.
Though I may not update Scenes of Verdant Heights much this month, I've got some other plans in motion for my other writing that isn't directly connected to Verdant Heights. I'll update this post in the near future with some links.
Until then, thanks for reading.
I may have jumped the gun on wanting to put out a book when I have nowhere near enough material to do so, and trying to figure out what to work on first, what to focus on, and such has given me such ennui and made me feel so unorganized that I'm not sure I'm even close to being ready to put this stuff to print. It needs more time, and I need to hone my skills a bit more. Still, I'd like to thank those who were interested in being a part of the process; I'll keep all of you in mind when the time comes.
As of now I've made it a goal to organize my writing in order to not only start producing more content, but also to get better exposure in ... well, in the world. Part of the process is getting myself to write more about EVERYTHING, not just fiction or reviews or pseudo essays. Not only that, but I need to start sharing (aka WHORING MYSELF OUT) things in order to get people to read. I just kind of assume everyone I know will want to click the links I have up on this site or that, when in reality very few people bother to do so - even my own girlfriend (sorry, Mari <3)! I need to start reaching an audience if I want to achieve anything with my writing, and like I said, that starts with producing content.
Though I may not update Scenes of Verdant Heights much this month, I've got some other plans in motion for my other writing that isn't directly connected to Verdant Heights. I'll update this post in the near future with some links.
Until then, thanks for reading.
Relevant:
[update]
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Bus Ride to the End of the World
ACT ONE
GUY: "Pretty late, huh?"
GIRL: "Yeah."
GUY: "Do you know when the next one's coming?"
GIRL: "Don't know. Should've been here by now."
[A pause.]
GUY: "Hey, I don't mean to bother you or anything, but do you happen to have a cigarette?"
GIRL: "I don't smoke. Sorry."
GUY: "It's okay. I don't really smoke much myself, but it's been a long night."
GIRL: "Sorry."
GUY: "No, no. Don't worry about it. Just thought I'd ask."
[A pause.]
GIRL: "God, where is it?"
GUY: "Guess it's late."
GIRL: "It was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, and it's the last one of the night."
GUY: "You live around here?"
GIRL: "If I did I wouldn't be waiting for a bus at two in the morning."
GUY: "Sorry."
GIRL: "No, I'm sorry. I'm usually not in such a bitchy mood. I just... well, I've had a long night too."
GUY: "Ah. Want to talk about it?"
GIRL: "I'd rather not. I just want to forget about it."
GUY: "Gotcha."
[A pause.]
GIRL: "It's just so fucked up, you know?"
GUY: "Huh?"
GIRL: "Relationships. Love. All that stuff. Everything's just so complicated and irrational sometimes. Hell, and here I am telling to a stranger at a bus stop in the middle of the night."
GUY: "I know what you mean."
GIRL: "Yeah? What happened to you?"
GUY: "Well, I mean... it's kind of a long story."
GIRL: "We've got time. And you seemed like you wanted to chat."
GUY: "What about you?"
GIRL: "What about me?"
GUY: "I asked about your story first. Aren't you gonna tell me? 'Ladies first', right?"
GIRL: "Typical."
[A pause.]
GIRL: "One of my best friends told me he was in love with me earlier today. We were walking together and he just stops, looking all depressed for some reason. I asked him what's wrong and he just came out and said it: 'I'm in love with you'."
GUY: "Kind of romantic, in its own way."
GIRL: "No, it's a problem. I have a boyfriend. We've been going out for years, and the two of them are friends so it just feels so... so messed up. It makes everything awkward."
GUY: "So what happened?"
GIRL: "I told him we couldn't be together, that I didn't feel the same way and we should just stay friends. And he said that was okay."
GUY: "Then why do you seem so down about it?"
GIRL: "Well, I told my boyfriend about it a little while ago. He didn't take it too well."
GUY: "Ah, I get it."
GIRL: "Yeah. Fuck, now I wish I did smoke. So what's your story?"
[A pause.]
GUY: "Well, my girlfriend and I broke up about a week ago. She was cheating on me with some guy from her workplace for the last two months and I didn't have a clue. Her little sister was the one that ultimately told me about it."
GIRL: "That sucks."
GUY: "Yeah, really. Anyway, so when I confronted my girlfriend about it she actually got all defensive about it, saying things like 'I need my space' and 'You're smothering me' and so on."
GIRL: "Typical excuses."
GUY: "That's what I said too, and I was sitting there like, how could she be getting mad at me when she's the one sleeping with another guy? Didn't make any sense at all. Her sister tried to smooth things out between the two of us, but it didn't really work. She's a good person though, always looking out for everyone."
GIRL: "Wait, let me guess: one thing led to another and..."
GUY: "Essentially, yeah. I wound up sleeping with her."
GIRL: "Bingo. And now you're here because she realized it was a mistake and kicked you out before the two of could fall asleep."
GUY: "Close. Actually, I'm only here because it's late and I want to get home. The two of them live together here in the Heights and I'd rather not be there when my ex shows up. I'm from the City. Guessing you are too?"
GIRL: "Well, no... I'm trying to get there. Rather, I'm trying to get away from here."
GUY: "Ah."
[A pause.]
GUY: "Hey, I think the bus is here."
GIRL: "Yeah."
GUY: "Do you know when the next one's coming?"
GIRL: "Don't know. Should've been here by now."
[A pause.]
GUY: "Hey, I don't mean to bother you or anything, but do you happen to have a cigarette?"
GIRL: "I don't smoke. Sorry."
GUY: "It's okay. I don't really smoke much myself, but it's been a long night."
GIRL: "Sorry."
GUY: "No, no. Don't worry about it. Just thought I'd ask."
[A pause.]
GIRL: "God, where is it?"
GUY: "Guess it's late."
GIRL: "It was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, and it's the last one of the night."
GUY: "You live around here?"
GIRL: "If I did I wouldn't be waiting for a bus at two in the morning."
GUY: "Sorry."
GIRL: "No, I'm sorry. I'm usually not in such a bitchy mood. I just... well, I've had a long night too."
GUY: "Ah. Want to talk about it?"
GIRL: "I'd rather not. I just want to forget about it."
GUY: "Gotcha."
[A pause.]
GIRL: "It's just so fucked up, you know?"
GUY: "Huh?"
GIRL: "Relationships. Love. All that stuff. Everything's just so complicated and irrational sometimes. Hell, and here I am telling to a stranger at a bus stop in the middle of the night."
GUY: "I know what you mean."
GIRL: "Yeah? What happened to you?"
GUY: "Well, I mean... it's kind of a long story."
GIRL: "We've got time. And you seemed like you wanted to chat."
GUY: "What about you?"
GIRL: "What about me?"
GUY: "I asked about your story first. Aren't you gonna tell me? 'Ladies first', right?"
GIRL: "Typical."
[A pause.]
GIRL: "One of my best friends told me he was in love with me earlier today. We were walking together and he just stops, looking all depressed for some reason. I asked him what's wrong and he just came out and said it: 'I'm in love with you'."
GUY: "Kind of romantic, in its own way."
GIRL: "No, it's a problem. I have a boyfriend. We've been going out for years, and the two of them are friends so it just feels so... so messed up. It makes everything awkward."
GUY: "So what happened?"
GIRL: "I told him we couldn't be together, that I didn't feel the same way and we should just stay friends. And he said that was okay."
GUY: "Then why do you seem so down about it?"
GIRL: "Well, I told my boyfriend about it a little while ago. He didn't take it too well."
GUY: "Ah, I get it."
GIRL: "Yeah. Fuck, now I wish I did smoke. So what's your story?"
[A pause.]
GUY: "Well, my girlfriend and I broke up about a week ago. She was cheating on me with some guy from her workplace for the last two months and I didn't have a clue. Her little sister was the one that ultimately told me about it."
GIRL: "That sucks."
GUY: "Yeah, really. Anyway, so when I confronted my girlfriend about it she actually got all defensive about it, saying things like 'I need my space' and 'You're smothering me' and so on."
GIRL: "Typical excuses."
GUY: "That's what I said too, and I was sitting there like, how could she be getting mad at me when she's the one sleeping with another guy? Didn't make any sense at all. Her sister tried to smooth things out between the two of us, but it didn't really work. She's a good person though, always looking out for everyone."
GIRL: "Wait, let me guess: one thing led to another and..."
GUY: "Essentially, yeah. I wound up sleeping with her."
GIRL: "Bingo. And now you're here because she realized it was a mistake and kicked you out before the two of could fall asleep."
GUY: "Close. Actually, I'm only here because it's late and I want to get home. The two of them live together here in the Heights and I'd rather not be there when my ex shows up. I'm from the City. Guessing you are too?"
GIRL: "Well, no... I'm trying to get there. Rather, I'm trying to get away from here."
GUY: "Ah."
[A pause.]
GUY: "Hey, I think the bus is here."
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