Fantasy Novel?!

I'm not sure exactly what I have to say today, other than I feel like I have things I need to work out. Not big, depressing things, really. I'm in a pretty good mood. Mostly, it's stuff about writing.

In my notebooks class, we keep reading these quotes and stuff from famous authors and poets. They all say things like... "Ever since I was two and a half, I've been carrying around ancient greek literature are I feel like I'm best buds with Ralph Waldo Emerson and I read books all the time and simply can't get enough of them." But what about me? I never read on my own! I feel like there's something wrong with me... I have this desire to write, but I don't even read that much.

But when I think about it, maybe what I really want to do isn't so much writing, it's that I have a story to tell. I have things I want to say. And writing has usually been the best way to do that. It's cheap-as-free, I don't need to rely on anybody else to help me out, and there's no limit to what I can create with it. But I keep thinking... the story I'm working on, the Zidaiku story... really, wouldn't it work out so much better as a video game? They're getting so advanced these days, and artistic... I mean, the storylines can be as great as any movie or book. That's part of what I love so much about Final Fantasy. They've got fantastic storylines, and they're really fun to play. I play video games way more than I read. I say that and you think I'm just some lazy geek-nerd or something, and maybe that's true, but... I don't think video games are any more of a waste of time than reading pop fiction, really.

So maybe what I really want to do is be a video game designer? It's what I love, isn't it? And it would still allow me to tell my stories, get my ideas out. The only problem with that right now is... how the heck am I going to create an entire game by myself? I can use the RPG maker thing, and I guess maybe that's where I should start, but... I don't feel like I could control it enough to like it. I would have to make all the sprites and figure out how to code things and stuff like that. If I put that much work into it, I want it to be something other people can enjoy. But with my copy of RPG Maker, no one else can play what I make. I would have to buy a thing from the company for that, but they don't even sell it anymore because they have a new version out. The problem with that is, I don't like the visual style of the new one.

So basically, it's a big mess. I can't code, I can't draw sprites, I don't have amazing hook-ups in the video game industry. All I have is this idea for a story.

Now, a few days ago, Rachel's family showed me a new television series called Legend of the Seeker. It's pretty much your standard fantasy fare, I guess, only I would say it's at least ten times more interesting than Lord of the Rings because the characters are actually likable and the story is more personal. But what's awesome about it is that that show is based off of a series of books called Sword of Truth by Terry Goodkind. They were books first! And I guess people liked them enough to make them into a TV show. While I was at the library the other day, I picked up one of the books in the series and read through it a bit. It really wasn't bad. I think a big fear of mine when it comes to fantasy books is that they kill the reader with detail. They explain things that really don't need to be explained. They spend forever talking about things that just don't matter. It's like the world itself is more important than the plot or the characters, and while I support interesting worlds, people want to read books because of the characters and plot. If they were interested in nature and societies, they'd probably go watch documentaries instead.

I also worry about battle scenes. They just... don't work out as well when they're written out, usually. "Johnny swung his sword down, parrying the soldier's upward cut. He spun around, his hair fanning out behind him, and brought his sword around in a wide arc, catching the soldier in the back. The armored man fell onto his face, defeated." While that might not have been terrible, it would get boring and repetitive if it went on for any more than one page or happened more than maybe three times in a book. Action (at least lots of it) is just better on a screen, not on a page. And I wouldn't say that my story needs a lot of fighting, but it happens. Hey, it's a fantasy. There's magic and weapons and fun stuff. So I'm worried about it being overdone and boring.

However, the pieces I read of Terry Goodkind's books were actually intriguing. I read a part about Zedd (the wizard) using his Wizard's Fire on a baddie. It described the fire shooting across the sky and engulfing the monster and whatnot, but it didn't go into every single detail and it was short enough to maintain my interest. I think maybe I should read more of that book (since I know I already like it, at least in TV show form) to see how he does it. Because yeah, it's a fantasy, and there are battles, and there are descriptions of things. But there are also compelling characters and a good plot. Those are the more important of the two sides of things.

I just feel kind of geeky, saying that I want to write a fantasy novel. So lame. But, well... maybe I just need to accept it. Truthfully, not all fantasy is Merlin and King Arthur. In fact, very little of it is. There's a lot of modern fantasy stuff that probably reads out a lot like a Final Fantasy game. And Final Fantasy is not lame.

Thirsty comes to mind. MT Anderson is one of my favorites. That book contains vampires, but it's not all medieval and crap. It's primarily a story about a boy and his relationships with people and his struggles with whatever. It's not about vampires. That's what I want my book to be like. It contains fantasy stuff, but it's about the characters. That's how it should be.

Well, I think that's good for now. I feel a bit better. The work goes on, I guess. In book form. The others can come later, but for now... I think it would be best if I just finished the story itself. And in the meantime, I think I'll check out some "fantasy" novels and (try to) read them. I might learn something.

Rallying Cry!

b...

bl...

BLEARGH!!!!

No, that wasn't barfing--that was me breaking free of the Chains of Society™. You see, those nasty badboys have been holding me down for years. And not just me--everyone is subject to the mighty holding capacity of the CoS™. They are a fearsome force to be reckoned with! While they claim to help maintain normalcy and stability in our everyday lives with values like Responsibility™, Punctuality™, and Problem Solving™, they also are the sworn enemies of the right half of every human being's brain. This has resulted in a large dominance of the Left Brain over the Right Brain and as a result, our society today is full of people like bankers, lawyers, accountants, and other un-creative Officetypes. As the ranks of Left Brainers grow, the oppressed artists and Creativetypes are continually looked down upon as Lazy™, Unproductive™, even Rebellious™. Creativetypes have been subjected to a slavery-like position, where they are forced to produce television sitcoms, advertising designs, movie scripts, and business logos for the masses of Officetypes to effortlessly and mindlessly enjoy without a further thought to the Creativetypes who labored for months--nay, years--to produce them.

The tyranny must come to an end! The oppression must cease! It is time for Creativetypes everywhere to unite with one another and take a stand against this, our common enemy... the Chains of Society™!

(The legions of oppressed peoples cheer mightily.)

--

So, yeah. I just got back from my creativity class. I hate the fact that our formal education teaches us so much about how to write "properly" and how we should always put so much thought into everything we do that it chokes the life out of it all. Today, the teacher brought in a bunch of published notebooks and journals written by poets and novelists and whatnot, and there's no denying... those suckers aren't nice and orderly, well thought-out pieces of literature. They are fragmented, disjointed, wild, irreverent... and frankly, they're beautiful and full of real human life. But try to write something like that even in some creative writing classes, and you get all sorts of scolded. "This doesn't make sense, you did the assignment wrong, this needs ____ and ____, nobody would read this, you need to stick to the assignment." Who has the right to tell someone that their writing is inherently wrong just because it doesn't fit Teacher's criteria? (Constructive criticism is a very different beast. That has the intent of improving what's already there.) What a horrible thing to do to the budding young writers of the world.

Admittedly, academic and professional writing has its place in the world. But I think there needs to be more of an emphasis on teaching both professional and personal/creative writing in tandem. Even if kids don't grow up to be poets or novelists, they'll at least feel more comfortable writing in their own journals and diaries, and that's a very real therapeudic exercise. I believe that everyone could benefit from it. I mean, I didn't have a real Creative Writing class until junior year of high school. English classes occasionally assigned poems, but not nearly as often as essays. When you really think about it, which is more important: a good essay, or a good poem?

Just reading through some of those journals... I start wondering if maybe it's already ruined for me. And maybe the Chains of Society™ aren't the only thing to blame. Maybe it's something people are born with. I heard a quote once that went something like, "If you can be happy without writing, then don't do it. The only good reason to write is because you must." Talking about a career, a life in writing. I haven't written much lately, and... while I haven't been "happy," I'm not really any more depressed than usual. But at the same time, writing does help. I get butterflies when I think about story ideas. I love the feeling I get when I finish a poem. And even if I can get away with not doing it, every time I think about it, I wish I was doing it on a regular basis. So, I don't know if I "have to" write or not.

Well, there's more, but I think I'm just going to stop here. Enjoy your weekend, people. Draw a picture and post a link or write a poem in the comments below if you want to rally with me against the heinous CoS™.

Bounce

whee.

2009

I'm coming back to this blog with my tail between my legs and my head down. Like I know I've done something wrong. It's pretty much how I've approached everything in my life recently. I know I'm not doing what I'm "supposed to" be doing, so I avoid it as much as I can until I finally have to face it and I feel guilty and stupid. After I stopped attending classes last semester, I didn't show up for the finals or even attempt to contact any of my professors or see my grades. I don't even want to know. I always get very depressed when I go "home" because I have to face my family and everyone I used to know and pretend like I'm not disappointing them. It's hard... and very scary.

So I guess one might say I've been living the coward's life. And I won't be one to make any kind of commitment right now about how I'm turning over a new leaf and leaving it all behind, because as we speak, I'm worried that either my car got towed or I have a new ticket to worry about. The snow removal crap up here is really annoying. In the winter, it would be nice to have your car parked close by so you don't have to be outside as long, right? But no. Every time it snows, everyone has to move their cars by four o'clock to a faraway little corner of the parking lot (much too small to actually fit everyone) so people can plow the parking lot. This was usually okay when no one was here, but classes started yesterday, and now the parking lot is crowded. So I went and parked at the Dee Events Center across the street. The sign there says something about needing a W (or RW) permit to park there. I have one of those. I parked there just before four o'clock, and trekked back to the apartment in the cold. I sorta forgot about it until one in the morning, when I heard all sorts of vehicular noises coming from across the street. Giant snow plows were plowing the Dee Events Center. So I don't know what became of my car. Wouldn't it just make more sense if the UV people just plowed around the parking spaces? If people were still parked there, snow wouldn't even get under the cars, and people wouldn't have to walk all over the place in the cold just to move their cars every couple of hours. That's how I'd do it if I were in charge.

Today I'm going out to look for a second job (provided my car still exists). This Cutco thing is... surprisingly acceptable, but there are some obstacles in the way. I don't know anybody in Ogden so I have to travel back to Salt Lake every time I want to do anything, and I don't have a good enough car to be doing that all the time. I'm thinking about going back to Burger King and talking to them again. They said I could come back if the other job didn't work out, and I guess this falls under that category. I'll still be selling knives, but only on my days off when I can take the time to drive down to Salt Lake and spend as much time there as possible.

I have absolutely no money. Cutco mailed me my first check but they shorted me quite a bit, so I have to sort that out. I had multiple fights with my mom while trying to borrow some from her. As soon as I get two thousand dollars (and still have enough for rent, gas, food, etc.), it's going straight into her bank account. That way, I won't owe her anything anymore and I won't have to feel like a hundred and twenty pounds of baggage and annoyance. She actually told me, "All you care about is money." How wrong she is. How very wrong. If there's anything I despise, it's money. I wish it didn't exist. I'd kill it if it were alive.

Christmas was good. I got a digital video camera to make youtube videos with, but so far, we haven't done anything with it. I lost my spark. My one class this semester--Journals, Notebooks, and Creativity--might help me get back on track. Not just with video ideas, but everything. I haven't been writing or drawing or anything. Maybe a bit here and there, but not anything like how it used to be. So I hope having this class will give me the little kick that I need. Of course, that's also what I thought about Cutco, and moving up to college in the first place... and everything's just been getting worse with time. Maybe that means the problem isn't going to go away with a simple change of pace.

I hear that people have actually paid attention to what I say in this blog. It's sort of sad that I found out about it through the grapevine and by listening in on other peoples' conversations. But at least there is somebody out there. Whether they care much or not is another story. I'd like a friend. I have Rachel, and Nick still puts in a lot of effort to keep in touch, and I've seen Melissa and Sam a couple times since moving away... Eric actually came to visit us once, too. I know I can't blame everything on everybody else, because I've been an awful "friend," but... the list of people who seem to care about me is getting pretty small. I've gotta be a good friend to have good friends, right? So I suppose there's not really any surprise.

If I could describe the way things have been... it might be likened to a grand castle once filled up with light and warmth, but now crumbling and broken and dark. Black water and smoke seep in through the foundations and wear away at bits of the walls little by little. The wind cuts through the rooms and the people are all gone except one or two, who keep trying to replace the broken bricks and drain the water, but their efforts are easily destroyed with the next storm. I feel like someone with three months to live. I think that one of the reasons I avoid things is because something keeps saying that it won't matter before long. That nothing will matter before long. There's some kind of doom on the horizon and I'm just pretending not to see it and acting like everything is normal, like it's always been. But I can't stop walking or turn around. No one can stop time. When I hit nineteen and I'm still around, people are going to notice. When I turn twenty-two and I'm still a sophomore and going nowhere fast, people are going to notice. Rachel's mom says that me not going on my mission is going to forever scar my image. I might be a good father, and good husband, a great guy, securely employed and loving toward my family, but because I didn't go on a mission, I'm... branded. Like I have a big "L" on my forehead. I might be a better guy than half of the kids who come back from successful missions, and yet in her eyes (and in the eyes of most of the Mormon culture, I'd imagine), I'm automatically inferior to those kids, regardless of circumstance or situation. Doesn't that seem wrong to you? How can I even go out on a mission like this? That would be pushing me even farther away from any kind of sanity. If moving forty miles away from "home" did this to me, how am I going to make it two years in some foreign country, preaching about things I'm not so sure about anymore? You've gotta be kidding. It would waste everybody's time.

So that's one of the biggest hurricanes coming to tear down my castle.

Well, I think I'm going to make some food and go see what happened to my car. Hopefully by the end of the day, I'll have another job at Burger King.