PSA

2 comments on "You wasted my time, ficcer, and now I kinda hate you"

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“This is the story that never ends. Yes, it goes on and on, my friends. Some people started reading it, not knowing what it was, and they’ll continue reading it forever, just because…”

MrYukStickerI get it. You’re writing fanfic, natural rules do not apply, blah blah blah.

But maybe there comes a point when you need to be honest with your readers and say: “I have no idea where this is going. I’ve written myself into a corner, so here’s 100,000 words about the MCs new cat, Devilicus.”

Or how about: “This story is 20% awesome plot, dialogue, and characterization. The rest is me detailing every second of their lives in excruciating detail for no other reason than that you’re going to read it and love it. Oh, and by the way, every third ‘update’ is just a random scene apparently taken from some different story. Sorry?”

Look, I love epic fics. When I’m searching a fandom I sort by COMPLETE and WORD COUNT just to enjoy the meaty, plotty goodness of a long story.

But when your WIP fic is 700,000+ words and turns to total crap when I’m 400,000 words in? We’ve got a problem.

I feel like I’ve been tricked. Especially when your spot on characterizations go zinging off into the wilds of OOCness (out-of-character) and this thought provoking and engaging story turns into baby babbling crack.

You’re churning out a crap story, yet you expect me to keep reading it? You seriously think I’m going to praise you? Really?

There’s an epic story, then there’s “This ficcer loves their baby too much to let it go and introduces drama and surprise twists just so they don’t have to shut up.”

I’m not saying you need to study three-act structure or take a creative writing class. It’s just, dude, OUTLINE. That’s all. Even just jotting down some plot points and knowing where you’re going with it will help a lot.

And I don’t end up feeling like you killed my will to live.

~Pax

0 comments on "What is the deal with airplane food…"

No, seriously, my mind is buzzing along a million miles an hour. I’m about an inch away from bouncing off the walls, yet it’s exciting and it feels good.

Mania. It’s the greatest fucking thing ever created.

Right up until it takes that downward turn and I start questioning everything I’ve ever done or ever said and I completely go off the rails. All these things I do so joyfully now, the words I scream out to the Internet and the things that I do and buy in real life … They always come back to haunt me later.

I promise things that bring me difficulty. I feel things like floating acid tripping butterflies. And at the end of the day, I have a great time either ruining or living my life.

It always feels the same either way.

Waking up with that sense that I’ve done wrong and not quite sure where I’ve misplaced my step. It sucks. I hate it. There’s nothing I can do to change it.

You don’t know what it’s like to need help so bad, but to not be able to say the words to anyone. There’s so much shame involved with any kind of mental illness. Even just using the words … mental illness … it makes my stomach crumble into knots.

There’s some days when I wake up hating everyone and everything, but when it comes down to it, it’s me that I hate. Because everything about the world I see, that’s my perception of things, the way that my brain puts it together. I am decoding messages that only I receive.

Everyone literally walks around in their own world, because each person has their own way of seeing things. So when I can look at something and all I feel is distaste, that’s my perception of things.

My idea of beauty is different and unique, as is my sense of disgust. And it all rides on what I feel at a particular time and place, the way my brain chemistry has decided to turn things. So sometimes there’s regret for the things I’ve said and didn’t say, the things I did and didn’t do, but always I’m left to deal with the consequences.

Mental illness is like being drunk all the time. Once the mood shifts, there’s nothing to block it or slow it down. When I’m angry, I’m angry. When I’m sad, I’m sad. And when I’m happy, I’m happy right up until the point I get terrified and end up hiding in the closet because everyone is out to get me.

And I write about it, and I write about it, and oh yeah, I write about it.

Even my characters that are like gods walking on Earth have problems with the way they see things or the way they react to a given situation. Or someone gets slipped some creepy drug, and having their perception of reality violently changed sends them on a bad trip. I have never written a character that is completely well-adjusted or happy in life.

Because I don’t think that perfect happiness exists. How boring would that have to be? It’s like the Matrix. When it was perfect, the human brain rejected it for a lie.

So I think the whole of humanity is a little bit crazy. It shouldn’t be something that we’re ashamed of, though it doesn’t need to be yelled from the mountain tops. It’s just a bit of mixed up chemistry.

If diet, exercise, music, and routine behavior can adjust someone’s brain to put them in a better mood and a better working order … Then it’s not something people should be stigmatized for and everyone should know that.

There’s no reason to hide away from the world, and no reason for the world to turn on someone. Mental illness is something that can easily be handled with compassion and self-knowledge.

Because knowledge is half the battle.

0 comments on "Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard… with alcohol"

A lot of times the “you” spoken of here is really “me.” This is real talk here, so I wanted to use my “speaking” voice, and if you’ve ever heard me speak live you’d know that I have an odd way of talking. I never try to lay blame on someone (sometimes my temper gets away from me) so nothing here is aimed at any particular person.

“If you don’t have something nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.”

Please be careful while drinking alcohol.

I’m not a big drinker, but I’ve hung out with people that could really put it away. There may be an idiom about fish in there. And even though I try to be the voice of logic, I’m not always there or maybe I’m incapacitated in some way — I’m easily distracted by video games and TV — and at some point you want to start believing that you’re dealing with adults that know their limits.

It’s just that sometimes limits get misjudged and you have a terrifying experience. If you’re just partying and having a good time, there should be no reason for you to get black out drunk. That’s usually something people do to avoid their problems or because they might have issues with alcohol.

There’s a very fine line between “tipsy” and “drunk” and “Did that really just happen?” And that line is usually just a couple of drinks, especially if someone slips you doubles or triples without bothering to let you know.

I had that happen to me once by a bartender friend. He thought he was being nice to me by slipping me extra shots in my drinks, but it was a jerk move not telling me. When I stood up, it was like it all hit me at once and I could barely walk, my after work cocktail turned into a real ordeal. Good thing I didn’t drive or I would have had to pick up my car the next day. I was always careful with drinks served by him after that.

I’m 5’2″ and I know my limits in general. Two shots will have me giggly, three and I’m feeling no pain. Any more than that and there’s a chance I’ll be hurking before the night is through. The problem is, I like to have my shots in mixed drinks like strawberry daiquiris, lemon drops, oatmeal cookies, etc., which can make it hard to tell exactly how many shots have been mixed in unless I’m actually watching my drink be prepared.

So I can understand how someone could get “Oh crap!” drunk. But there are things you can do during or after either for yourself or a friend.

Here’s “How to Take Care of a Drunk Person: 9 Steps”: http://www.wikihow.com/Take-Care-of-a-Drunk-Person

A Blood Alcohol Content (BAC) calculator is pretty helpful. Put in your weight and go through figuring out how many of your favorite alcoholic beverages you can put away, maybe even write them on a note card you put in your wallet. You’ll have a reference to work with. “Blood Alcohol Content (BAC) Calculator:  http://www.medindia.net/doctors/calculators/blood_alcohol.asp

 

One time, my friend got so drunk he threw up in his bed TWICE and couldn’t manage to get up and really clean it. He just bundled the sheet on the floor and curled up on his side with his face hanging over the edge. He may possibly have removed his shirt, I don’t know, I wasn’t there. But anyway you look at it, he could have died that night. Later he got a DUI, but that’s a different story.

Anyone have any stories?