Writing – Page 3

Love and Gravity. Bitches be crazy. (Part 3)

For the past few weeks I’ve been comparing the nature and effects of love with those of another universal force – gravity.

Gravity represents classical physics here since it acts on the BIG stuff, like planets, solar systems, stars, galaxies, clusters of galaxies, and even the universe.

Love, in this analogy, stands in for quantum mechanics — that branch of physics dealing with the motion and interactions of subatomic particles — you know, the small stuff. Or, the human stuff.

I know what you’re thinking — Why the hell did I click on this f!$%ing blog?! Where’s the SMUT??

Patience, grasshopper.

Just like some of the early scientific theories humanity has come up with (spontaneous regeneration, the plum pudding model of the atom, and phrenology, anyone?), we have been getting it wrong for a long, long time.

Because instead of viewing love as the force of nature it is, people have decided that there are kinds of love (as if there were kinds of gravity, too). Furthermore, there’s the idea that some kinds of love are better than others, and that the folks who give into the undesirable kinds of love are weak, degenerate, or just plain WRONG.

Now imagine giving voice to the idea that some kinds of gravity are better than others, and that the people who give into the wrong kind of gravity are somehow bad and inferior? And yet, here we are in the bright and shining 21st goddamn century still judging people on the kind of gravity they allow themselves to give in to!

Ridiculous, right?

So let’s sum up.

Gravity is an indiscriminate force of nature. Depending on the situation — for example, someone falling off a building — it can get messy. Gravity does not give a rat’s ass about what religion, society, or the various governments think about it. It just is.

Love is also an indiscriminate force of nature. Depending on the situation — for example, someone falls in love with another someone and they have sex — it can also get messy. (Unless you use a condom.) Love doesn’t give a rat’s ass (possibly the same rat’s ass) about what religion, society, or government thinks about it either. It just is.

So if you if you ever find yourself agreeing with the nitwits who think everyone who falls into the wrong kind of love should be punished and marginalized (I’m looking at you, all 73 countries in the world who criminalize LGBTQ people), for something they had no control over, then be my guest.

But just don’t get too close to that ledge, sweetie. Because you never know when some perverse force of nature will have its way with you.

Love. Resistance is futile. (Part 2)

Last week I talked a bit about my thoughts on the nature of love. I’d been thinking about it because I’d somehow found myself writing a novel with a love story in it. (If you write, you already know — these things just happen.)

So… Love.

Ok, it’s like a force of nature — like gravity — that only affects living beings.

Well, maybe.

Because what about quantum inseparability? Is that just another form of love? Like the raw, basic essence of it, the universal idea of love, sort of like Plato’s Ideal Forms? Is love intricately woven into the fabric of the universe? Of all universes?

And if so, what chance do we puny humans down here on Earth have? What chance do we have against such a powerful phenomenon? It’s like trying to fight against gravity. Sure, some people have done it (astronauts, astro- dogs, probably some astro-rats), but they’ve always come back down afterwards. Because … well, they can’t stay up there forever, right? Gravity is always tugging at them, dragging them back to Earth.

Continuing this idea that love, like gravity, is a force of nature, I say that love acts on us whether we want it to or not. (Kinda like the aforementioned gravity.) But unlike gravity, which is a huge, but weak, force in the universe, love is simultaneously huge and intimate. And unbelievably strong.

Love draws people together. It draws animals together (theories of biological determinism be damned), and it draws people and animals together. And it may be what draws subatomic particles, atoms, molecules, planets, and galaxies together!

Let’s just agree on this for now: Gravity doesn’t discriminate and neither does love. Both do what they do with no regard for who they do it to.

Love is patient. Love is kind. (Wtf?) Part 1

A lot of people know that quote from Corinthians in the Bible. It’s a popular, and comfortable, way of looking at love. As such, it’s often recited at weddings where everyone smiles and nods. Every time I hear this definition of love it makes me think of a soft, cozy shawl.

However …

I’ve been working on my protagonist’s character profile this week, and it’s gotten me to thinking about love; because even though my novel is a sci-fi horror adventure in an urban setting, it’s also a love story.

Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are. I’ve never been interested in love stories, or romance (because, Duh, I mostly write horror. See my short story “Mercy Street” elsewhere on this blog), but there you are. This story wants to be told, and for some unknown reason, it’s picked me to tell it.

Consequently, I had to do some hard thinking on the subject of love. Like, what is it, where does it come from, and is there a cream available to get rid of it?

So the first thing that popped into my head is the idea that we have absolutely no control over love. It chooses you. You are love’s bitch. You don’t get to decide who to love, or when you’re going to fall in love, or where you’re going to be when it happens, or even when it will happen.

Love is basically a cosmic clown car careening around the corner just as you step off the curb. Wham!

In that regard, love remind me a lot of death. Or life.

At the same time, though, love often seems like a weapon wielded by some divine, hilarious prankster god, right? Because once love sets its sights on you it’s just like having one of those hellish Covenant plasma grenades attached to your body — no amount of running around and screaming will fix it. You are fucked.

That’s it for today.

Meanwhile, I’d love to hear your thoughts on love — please tell me in the comments down below. Thanks!

How I’m Going to Make 2020 My Bitch

I realize that making a public declaration like this is one of the stupidest things you can do. Everyone knows that as soon as you make a grand pronouncement like this you are essentially cursing yourself in a very public manner. (This is probably why nearly every great undertaking starts off with very little fanfare. In secret. If it fails, who cares? Nobody, because no one knew about it.)

Well, where’s the fun in that?

I believe in the Accountability Model of Achievement (aka The Public Shaming Model)– the more people whom I tell, the more likely I am to actually do what I said I was going to do. Because if I don’t then everyone and their mother will be guaranteed to ask me “Whatever happened to that thing you said you were going to do…?” for the next freaking year. Or two.

So, the more people who are invested in something, the less likely I am to let it die a quiet, unnoticed death.

That’s the plan anyway.

So, here goes.

In 2020 I plan on finishing my novel (… that I initially started about 4 years ago in grad school. Don’t ask. I did actually, technically finish it, it just sucked so bad I couldn’t bear it. Hence, third draft’s the charm, eh?) and publishing it.

I am working on getting the movie I made a few years ago — Gameheads — broken up into bite-sized videos and put on YouTube as a serial.

I am revamping my old student blog into a new author blog. (You’re looking at it right now, babe.)

I am starting a podcast, which will be about writing plus whatever-the- hell-I-feel-like-talking-about.

I’m going to do more book reviews — both fiction and non-fiction — along with some movie and TV reviews.

As God is my witness, I am going to learn how to play the guitar even if it KILLS me!

And finally, I want to start attending some writing or sci-fi/fantasy conventions as a guest again.

Whew! That’s enough for one year.

How about you? What are your plans for 2020? Don’t be afraid — just spit it out! Believe me, not only is it therapeutic, but the prospect of some good, old-fashioned public shaming might be just the kick in the ass you need to get things done.

New Short Story

Hi, everyone.

Please check out my horror short story, “Mercy Street.” Mercy Street

(Cover art and design by Ryu Cope)

A word of warning, though: if “bad language” or razor blades or blood or suicide freaks you out you probably should stay away.

If that’s the case, here — enjoy this adorable face instead.

Writing: It’s not for the weak.

Welcome, fellow writing masochists!

I have a few questions for you.

Are you a pantser who frigging knows she needs to become a plotter if she’s ever going to get anything done in her actual lifetime?
Do you hate unreliable narrators in fiction because it reminds you too much of watching the news on TV?
Do you lie awake at 2 A.M. wondering if you should write your story in third person or first person or would fifth person be even better?
And then, two minutes later, do you wonder what “normal” people think about at 2 in the morning?
Are you worried about where to hide the body when you finally, FINALLY kill that fucking procrastinator who’s been living inside you all these years? (Not now? Don’t worry, we’ll figure out something later.)
Do you regularly shake your fist at the sky, cursing the malevolent God/god/goddess/gods who decided you should be a writer in this lifetime, and not a wealthy, spoiled heiress, or a talented and beautiful ex-boy-bander? (Yeah, He/She/They are not listening, sweetie, believe me.)
Do you want to come along as I crawl, scratched and bleeding, through the dizzying HELL of writing my first novel?

Yes? Awesome. You came to the right place.

I will be posting every week on Wednesday about writing in general, plus some of the crap I’m going through as I work on my first novel, tentatively titled The Terrible Strange.

If you like what you see here, please join me.

Thanks.

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