Dreadful Typewriter

Posting on here because it seems to be the easiest method of blogging these days. Also Twitter, my addiction for the past few years, seems to be having a problem . Oh noes, I am forced to actually write my thoughts in a format that accepts more than just 240 characters per entry! I may spontaneously combust! I have actually been trying to blog on my Real Site. So I set up a Wordpress blog, because that's what the hosting service prefers (though they do offer other programs). But I find Wordpress to be exhausting to use for some reason. It's easy to use, that's not the problem. It's just exhausting. Too many choices, maybe? I also made a site on Neocities, which I have promptly abandoned. I don't know if I'm still into that sort of thing, website building from scratch. My real problem is I don't seem to be able to think of things to write about. Well, I do, until I am confronted with the blank page. Then all my thoughts vanish. I felt this writing urge die we...

I read Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere sometime in the 1990s I think. Spoilers to follow if it matters for a book published nearly 30 years ago... It just occurred to me now how a tell of just how mundane and bourgeois Gaiman is was how he telegraphed the villainy of the "good" angel character by how he got the main characters, a twenty-ish man and a younger woman (who was also, I think, underage -- sixteen maybe? It's been a while) drunk.  His Sandman comics were my main thing for a time. On the surface they were rather progressive (sexually ambiguous characters such as Desire, plenty of gay characters who weren't obvious stereotypes, etc.), but there was an overlying cisheterosexuality that promoted traditional domesticity as an ideal if not one that all the characters were suited for, and that was seen as a semi-tragedy or fatal flaw (Dream can't seem to have a relationship that doesn't end with something horrible happening to his lady friends, Barbie leaves K...

I got the car! A car. Not new, but new-ish, only 6 years old, a 2012 Nissan Versa SV. Here's a picture: Took that in the Target parking lot today. As you can see, it's a basic car. It's automatic, has a rear-window defroster (I've coveted one forever), the a/c works though the fan is noisy due to having a dead mouse or rat in it. (A long dead one, there is zero dead rodent smell.) The corpse was, of course, removed at the dealer, and they cleaned out this little pile of what I guess was the creature's nest, which we found when I looked in the spare tire well in the trunk. Otherwise the car was spotless. There's a scratch or two, but nothing major. I'm hoping it lasts me a while. That was my excitement. I'm still finding my way around inside, like getting the seat to be comfortable, figuring out how to use the audio (radio and cd player both seem to work just fine) and hoping the former owner kept it as well maintained engine-wise. I'll just have...

So there's been this "show us your rejections" thing going around Twitter and I think it kicked off some people to decide to give up writing and I saw a response where some person said it was "freeing" to just give up on writing novels and write for money and I thought... ...wait ...that's not helping. I mean yeah having your work rejected is depressing to your creative sense but wanting to make money is part of that and if you show up and say "well I just turned off my brain and wrote for money and it feels so much better!" how do you think that makes someone who is *definitely* not making any money off their rejected story or novel feel? God some people are dumb. I'm not tired of Twitter, but I think I need to get away from it more. I decided to try blogging again. I don't have any particular big ideas I have a burning need to talk about, but why not. Also I need to seriously work on my fiction so there is that. Of course, my fing...