Written @ MindSay

How, how do I write a song?

How, how do I start the line?

It's too much to think of

In the nick of time.

 

Where do I stand?

Where do I fall?

I just realized, I don't need you at all.

 

And then I look in the mirror

And see a reflection of - a man who gave his love

But that doesn't cut it

You know that to - I can tell you don't love me like I love you.

Tell me what I can do to make it right

For you to actually notice, the me inside

Show me your heart, show me your life.

Tell me the secrets you hold deep down inside.

 

Let me be the man you wanted to have

I'm giving you me - please pick me.

I understand you are showing your pride

But I want you to be my bride

Picture the difference we can do together

Now I'm giving you me - please pick me.

 

How, how would I approach you?

How, how will I sound?

I couldn't be any more nervous

Stop moving me around.

 

Where do I stand high?

Where do I fall low?

Only you will know, how deep this will go

And what I am sacrificing for.

 

And then I looked in the mirror

And see a reflection of a man - denied by love

But that does cut it

You know this is true, it was the choice of me, not you

I'll tell you what you can do to make it right again

 

Forget everything I ever said

All of those things, there were all lies

I can see you looking deep, deep with your dark brown eyes

I look as you walk away from me

Goddamn it, what have I done with me?

What have I done with me?

 

Let me be the man you wanted to have

I'm giving you me - please pick me.

I understand you are showing your pride

But I want you to be my bride

Picture the difference we can do together

Now I'm giving you me - please pick me.

Gee golly gosh, I hate to go over familiar territory, but it's like this - I am a writer, published and all, and blah blah blah my own style, dreams of grandeur, gifts to share, etc.

 

But I hardly write.

 

And now that I'm writing form reports for my new job, which I love, and which keeps me plenty busy, I have let all freewriting slack to the point of empty pillowcases.

 

My head is full of ideas, sure, and from time to time, I actually jot some notes down in the general direction of a piece to publish.  I don't have excuses, or even reasons.  In fact, I feel a certain measure of guilt about the whole thing - and yet, that guilt is substantially below the level that would necessitate more regular entries.

 

So there it is then.  More to come, I suppose.  Eventually.  Maybe.

 

 

I have been writing music lately. I am not sure where I am going with this. My friends have a band and i have been talking to the main one and he talked to the rest of the guys about doing a compilation between me and them I haven't actually had an answer back since I haven't heard from anyone... I would hope to sing in a compilation with my friends band, if that were to occur then I would hope to continue into a field of music.

My lyrics are intended to be in a punk context. I haven't had any meetings yet so I haven't been able to put lyrics to tunes. But I plan on having it leaning more on a Punk sounding bass. Here is one, tell me what you all think.

A song caledl "Life"
rough draft, subject to revisions


"Life" (fear and loathing I tell them, can't knock it till you finish it)

-I hate Life
Subject makes me cry

Sooo, I go to college, take out loans
get a plastic wife(or can be replaced with "meet myself a plastic wife" but "plastic wife" means perfect and well trimmed like everyone else)

But in theory
She'd rather kill

Cause I hate life
subject makes me cry
With all their rules
regulate those fools

So I bought some art
Paid the cops
bought my house. from which I live
and Paid the Geek who fixed my life

Cause I hate life
Subject makes me cry
With all their rules
regulate those fools

Sold the house(abrupt stop), pay those loans
Sooo I move to the slums
with taxes galore
Money and art a thing of the past.

Cause I hate life
Subject makes me cry
With allll their rules
regulate those fools

Mid-life crises(hold on that line)
and a career change
the shit car stolen
with insurance late.

Picked up the twin
and off to school
their loans are yours
their personal bank


(instruments stop abruptly like crashing)
*breathing heavy/panting* Boy that really... wiped me out
*still panting*
Maybe we should... get a new board game...

that was the end. What were you really thinking about midway before the end of the song?

My bright blue WRX explodes down 476.  I am in the driver seat, my left hand on the steering wheel, my right hand hovering over the gearshift.  A black leather Kenneth Cole briefcase housing my beloved 15-inch Powerbook is nestled in the passenger seat, and hissing through the radio speakers is either an audiobook I borrowed from a nearby library, or my iPod Nano playing some good driving music or a recently downloaded podcast.

The sky has recently turned black, and red break lights ahead of me blur as my car approaches them.  I barely notice that they are getting bigger, because I'm lost in my own world.  I'm too busy scripting a long speech for one of the characters in my latest novel.

This is not a rare occurrence.  A lot of the inspiration for my books comes to me on my drive home from work.  Now don't get me wrong; some hit me while I'm lying in bed, some while I'm typing on my computer, and some while my hairy butt cheeks are slopped against a cool toilet seat, but most come to me when I'm driving.  I thought suddenly pops in my head, and I let it drift through my brain as I drift down the road, finally dashing into my apartment before I even have the parking break in place so I can write the thought down before I forget it.

It doesn't necessary have to pertain to the part of the book I am writing at that moment, or even to the exact book I am writing.  It may just be an idea I find interesting, and I get it down; either in a notepad, in a new Word document, or at the end of the document of the current book on which I am working.

I write every idea down, especially after I've thrown it through all the corners of my mind.  Very often I'll get an epiphany for something that should happen to a character, and I'll slap it on at the bottom of my document, and then as I'm writing the rest of the story I'll try to find a way to fit it in.  I'll scroll down to the bottom, read that note, and either paste it directly into the story (if I wrote it with prose in mind) or reshape it until it works with the tone of my tale.  This way, I always have thoughts on reserve.  It's a nice feeling. Sometimes I won't be sure what to do next, and I'll scroll to my list of notes and discover that I've already told myself what to do.  Now I just have to make it work.

That being said, I like to write on the seat of my pants.  I prefer to begin a story with just a brief idea and then see where it takes me.  I sit at my computer and I start writing and the plot comes together and the characters evolve and the whole thing feels organic.  The characters go where they need to go, grow when they need to grow.  I don't have an action planned, I let a character react to a situation just like a real person would.  This way, the story (hopefully) feels more real.  A person can't accurately plan out his or her entire life, so why should a character?  I want them to evolve and learn just like real people.

This is very much the way Stephen King writes, but what separates us (besides that he has buckets more talents and pools more money) is how we edits.  He likes to finish a book and then step away from it, possibly for months, before going back to it, printing it out, and reading it fresh, like a person who purchases his book would.

I don't do that.  For one, I don't like to read my work on paper, because then I can't make changes to it right then and there.  When I read my work on the computer, and I get a new idea or see an edit I want to make, I can incorporate that change instantly.  I like this freedom.  I like this ability to bend my story at will.  This is what I am currently doing with the book I just finished, The Fall of Paris.  I am reading it from start to finish on the computer and making edits when I see fit.  Now, because I have a regular job, and a TV show and movie addiction, and this blog, the process is going to take a while.  But that's where I am right now in the world of writing, in case you were curious.

A major problem with this system is that it may hurt the book's flow.  The book I just mentioned has long, winding sentences layered with symbolism and imagery.  The book right before it does not.  It's a non-stop action ride with short sentences that keep the suspension level jacked.  I wrote long stretches of it in one sitting, just letting my fingers flutter over the keys, and the result was an intense flowing rhythm to the horror.  But once I went back and made changes to it, I fear that I disrupted that flow.  Now I'm not too sure I even like the book anymore.

What's the outcome of that?  Well, there's a reason Stephen King is wildly successful.  Maybe I should start emulating his work ethic and stop grasping for the instant gratification.

But what I won't stop doing is letting fits of inspiration hit me.  Angel of Life came about from a dream.  I was planning on writing The Fall of Paris, but I woke up one morning with a thought in my head: a voice of a man describing the horrors of hell and then saying how happy he was that he got out of there.

I woke up obsessed with this thought.  What would happen if someone went to hell unfairly?  What if he didn't deserve damnation and tried to escape?  Then I thought about all those books and movies where a guy gets framed for a crime and needs to prove his innocence before being captured.  I thought I could up the ante on those.  What if a guy gets sent to hell falsely and must prove the innocence of his soul before burning for eternity?  I loved the idea, and I threw The Fall of Paris on the backburner and wrote 422 pages in two months.  All because I woke up to a thought.  All because I let inspiration take over.

To me, it's so exciting to get caught up in your story.  I love when I'm into my imaginary world, because every second I spend at the computer is pure joy.  I am on the edge of my office chair dying to know what happens next.  I love reading a page-turner, because I'm so into it I have to keep going to see where the story is headed and how the characters will end up.  But I love writing a page-turner more, because I get to be the first person in the world to learn the outcome of these characters.  And it's always a great surprise.

The web seems to be going multimedia.

 

Somewhere someone decided that the tipping factor happened for high speed internet.

 

I guess we hit the point where dial up people are no longer the majority.

 

I think AOL even stopped supporting dial up (not 100% sure, but remember hearing this somewhere)

 

That technology shift might have been the tipping point for multimedia to really take over the internet.

 

Why say it with words when a Flash presentation can do so much better.

 

Why write words when a MP3 file of you saying what you are thinking is so much more convient.

 

I'm seeing the change here from MindType to actual MindSay.

 

It's even been a while since I've read a good book, I get the audio book often read by the author and put it on my iPod.

 

Looking forward to see where we are headed in the next 20 or so years.

 

Maybe my kids will be logging into MindThink where thoughts can be directly transferred into their heads.

 

Ken