Writing is ridiculous

I’ve been working on the first draft of a short story that I thought would probably end up being around 600-800 words or so, but I’ve decided to write it in a 1-subject notebook that has both short story beginnings/pieces and comic sketches. I have no idea how many words I’ve gotten so far and keep reminding myself to not count them before I’m done because, really, what’s the point in that.

I haven’t been working on it every day because I am a procrastinator and life happens. I’ve been working on it while on my lunch breaks at work, so I have something to amuse myself with after I get irritated at getting killed by Stimpy or dying by mousetraps (argh! I can’t believe it. I get past Stimpy only to die by a freaken mouse trap?! wtf. I should’ve gotten Megaman. grr)

The other day, I was texting Jamie while working on it and asked him if I should make a Douglas Adams reference because I had already made a reference to the dolphin guy (double checking Mysterious Universe and I’m 90% sure it’s Aaron McCollum, which is mentioned on episode 309–I’d listen to it, but I’m currently listening to a podcast where they’re interviewing a guy who wrote a UFO/Extraterrestrial book and is trying to make it so it becomes “mainstream.”). Jamie said I was just doing this to procrastinate and keep from writing. I guess he was right, so I made a comment on twitter about how I wonder how many nerdy references I could cram into the story before I remember we already have that and it’s called Ready Player One. (a book that I have yet to finish and I doubt I finish it.)

Then I realised, fuck it. It’s my story, I can do whatever I want. If I want vampires to come out of the walls, I can do that. It’s not part of the plan, but I could do it. It’s not like anyone’s going to see the first draft. When I go to type it up, it’ll get changed. When I print it out so I can re-read it for the nth time and do a few edits, chances are the only person who will see it is Jamie (unless I go fuck it and post it up here to see what happens).

I’ve been tiptoeing on the line of crazy conspiracy theorist writing this. I’ve made references to the dolphin guy, a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy reference, Hollow Earth theory, and mentioned Reptilians. I mentioned anthrax in the mail (and there goes the beep for government tracking. Hi guys! It’s just me.), a Jello brain (an oldie but a goodie. I remember keeping an eye on the Jello mold from ThinkGeek’s HQ years ago), office hijinks, Anarchist Cookbook (there goes another ping in tracking), extra-terrestrials and star gates, NASA, “late-night radio shows,” and the Silk Road.

By the time I wrote down the Silk Road, I realized that I’m going to bring in the MIB into this story. Like the classic 50s/60s MIB, because witness statements make them extra fucking creepy. And why not? It works out for the story. The whole roundabout way to the ending is becoming hilarious to me, but it works because I don’t have to do much research on it. I just have to rely on memory for the most part (oh all those fun stories from childhood)

I realize I’m procrastinating on writing now as well. I have the notebook right beside me but I can think of a handful of other things that need to be done. I’m enjoying writing it, but I’m also at a point in the story where everything is just so damn ridiculous. There are parts of it that I find stupid as I write it, but I also realize it’s part of my process.


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