Bad, Kastil, BAD!

I did well on my vacation on getting some serious editing completed on the NaNo 2009 project. I went for my trusty notebook, one wide ruled for each story, and found I had two in my bag and none of them was the one I needed.


Yeah, you see, I did a lot of writing in the basement in my sewing room for peace and quiet. I put my bare feet on the fat brick of the power cord to the laptop, strapped on the snuggie, and threw another blanket on my back. It’s frickin’ freezing, Mr. Bigglesworth, in that basement. I don’t worry about the hands. They get cold typing so I’m use to that. Way too long story short, that’s where the notebook I needed sat. Fat lot of good it did me.

No worries. I’ve only got 60+ out of 180 or so pages completed for the first edit. Better yet, I’m not losing steam. Granted, I had a short story of a good friend sitting in my writing bag that I promised I’d look over, um…. Well, a while ago. So I tore into it during lunch instead of the little snippet of my own crap. With him I don’t have to hold back (not that I would). It would be a disservice if I didn’t go for the jugular.

I don’t consider myself the authority of the Engrish. I loathe the semi-colon and can’t stand a rigid grammar-correct story. I feel like I’m reading something more like a college term paper instead of something to pull and tear on my emotions. I can’t connect to it. Give it to your professor, dude. No me gusto.

On the other hand, after reading the Ted Dekker book, I’m having a hard time reading the book I picked up next. It’s a Christine Feehan book and I love her books but the flowery imagery is making me vomit. She tosses around adverbs like an old woman feeding the flying rats at the park. I didn’t do it, and I should, count how many she had in one paragraph. Oh yes, it’s that bad. I’m plowing through it, though, because the story itself is clicking and if there’s one thing I’ve noticed in my years of reading. Give me a good story and I’ll look past your shitty writing skills. Or at least try to now days.

Perhaps I’m terrified of going back to brush up on my Engrish because I still remember what taking a film class did to me watching a movie. I have to turn off my brain to enjoy a flick so I don’t look at the cinematography, the wipes used, or the symbolism behind the color scheme.

Sometimes you got to enjoy things at face value and not dig deeper. Unless you want to get better at what you do in life because let’s face it, only a small percentage of players in the game get a large following that buys every single drop of drivel they display.

I don’t want that. Ever. If I get one thing out there, I’ll be happy. It’s not a career I’m looking for and never will be. I like being able to pay the mortgage too much.