Outlining for Dummies- part 1

How do I say this nicely? If you don’t outline, you either already are, or are going to be a disorganised mess. We’re talking puke-on-a-boat-in-a-storm level of hopelessness. Great; now that we understand one another, we can move on to how the fuck outlining works. Since I only have experience with being me, I will explain how I outline my shit (metaphorical shit-I’m not perfectionist … Continue reading Outlining for Dummies- part 1

Asshole, I’m Coming

Have you ever tried eating your favourite food for a couple days straight? The first day, you’re enjoying that beautiful texture and your belly is having a party downstairs, because the taste is that good. The second day, you’re still happy about it, but it tastes more stale, less delicious. The third day, you’re hunched over a toilet praying for this hell to end. Yeah, … Continue reading Asshole, I’m Coming

How Murder Leads to Writing

Imagine a spark. This tiny spark, a short moment of brilliance that fades in an instant. Now picture what happens when that insignificant spark touches a piece of combustible matter: the world fucking explodes. Thus, writing was born. Once upon a time, some dude got a spark caught in his hair, and then his head was on fire; his buddy saw him, had a dark sense … Continue reading How Murder Leads to Writing

When Everything Goes to Hell, You “Write” an Angry “Note”

Brace yourself for this new piece of bullshit. It stinks of burst bubbles and stale pixie dust. I’m editing Thingy with the Jiggy, right. And as I was looking through it, I realised that, not only did my writing suck, but I misplaced a shit ton of scenes. So instead of glibly fixing up my grammar and whatnot, I’m also free-handing a bunch of new … Continue reading When Everything Goes to Hell, You “Write” an Angry “Note”

Bob the Builder, If By “Build”, You Mean “Write”

Bob the builder can build anything (I’m assuming that by “anything”, the show meant “most logical, useful things”, like chairs and houses. I don’t think he could build a space ship or a washing machine or a a totem pole). As writers, we are all Bob, because our imaginations are fertile fields of flowers and fluorescent lights that flicker like in horror movies. Wow, my … Continue reading Bob the Builder, If By “Build”, You Mean “Write”

The Hickey

First, I dealt with the man.  As my fangs slid into his jugular, his eyes flickered open in panic. He thrashed and gasped, struggling against me. No- more like struggling against the irrevocable death that I was bringing to him. He would have died either way, but for some reason, like all other humans, he just had to fight against it. Once I’d punctured his … Continue reading The Hickey

Notes of a Crying Soul

I am dead. Not literally dead, of course (otherwise I wouldn’t be able to write this), but metaphorically dead. Semantically dead. Metaphysically dead. You know when Pocahontas in the Disney movie sings, “have you ever heard a wolf cry to the blue horned moon?”? I’m pretty sure she was addressing writers everywhere, because we’re the only ones who have been awake long enough into the … Continue reading Notes of a Crying Soul