PAgent’s Progress

Everyone talks about how hectic and crazy their lives become once their kids are teenagers. I just didn’t expect it too get this crazy this soon.

Between Cub Scouts, Girl Scouts, the Wife’s obligations and meetings, and my obligations and meetings, it seems like something is happening every night of the week. Every week I feel a little bit further behind, and a little more tired. Once I’m thoroughly stressed, and I need to decompress, I usually play video games for a while, which turns into an even later night, and less sleep.

So, what with one thing and another, I haven’t had the opportunity or energy for much blogging, which I regret somewhat. I also haven’t had time or energy for cooking, which I regret much more sincerely. There are too many nights that we end up grabbing something fast, or eating something out of the freezer, instead of having a real meal. Very unsatisfying.

In an attempt to prune back my commitments, I’ve been considering taking a leave of absence from the Board of Directors of the nonprofit I work with. I thought a year off would give me a chance to catch my breath and not get burned out on the organization (which I think very highly of, obviously). We’ve always been a small Board, which presents it’s own challenges, and two Board members have retired just recently, making it difficult to justify my own departure. Sigh.

Although my comic strip should not be considered to be strictly autobiographical, there is nonetheless some truth to this one. The medications that the Girl is currently on seem to be helping her maintain an even keel, or at least, an evener keel than usual. We still have issues with her temper, and emotional abuse of her brother, but these are not unusual for a young lady her age. Right now our biggest issues are her apparent unconcern with not handing in homework assignments, and blasé attitude toward failing classes. Good times.

I discovered a way to keep my physician from lecturing me on my lipids and weight: Give him something else to diagnose. I’ve been suffering some nagging shoulder pain that’s become a bit more severe, as well as what feels like a cyst on the sole of my foot that makes walking painful. At my appointment this morning my doctor seemed intrigued by both ailments, and by the time I left the clinic this morning my shoulder had been x-rayed, and I had been told to make appointments with a foot specialist and a sports medicine specialist.

PSA: It sucks to get old.

What’s the point of having a blog if you can’t post your own stupid crap?

moar funny pictures

The other night I got home from work, put some beets in a pot, and started them cooking. I love beets, but no one else in my family can stand them. I was going to take those beets while they were still warm, and coat them in butter.

But instead, I lapsed into unconsciousness.

Fortunately for everyone involved, my wife turned the heat off under the beets before there were any unpleasant consequences. When I got up the next morning, I put them in a resealable bag and stuck them in the refrigerator. I figured I would do something with them.

Today, I did something with them. After peeling them, I sliced them into rough slices. Then I took some walnuts out of the freezer and lightly toasted them in my smallest cast iron skillet.

I put the beets in a wide bowl, and drizzled them with extra-virgin olive oil and seasoned rice wine vinegar, then sprinkled them with kosher salt and fresh ground pepper. I tossed the toasted walnuts on top of that, and then crumbled some Crater Lake Blue Cheese on top of everything.

Let me just say that Crater Lake Blue, from the Rogue Creamery, is exquisite. It’s got a robust blue flavor, very assertive, but the cheese itself is satiny smooth. I had some last night with fresh cameo apples and multigrain bread. My God it was good. On this beet salad, it was equally wonderful.

Yum.

moar funny pictures

Here’s what looks to be a homebuilt recumbent trike locked up on 1st Avenue downtown. I don’t know if I have a lot of faith in the strength of the C-shaped frame, it looks like it would flex quite a bit. But hey, whatever works. It’s got a clean, single-speed drive train. I’m sure it would get you to the grocery store and back. And all with zero gas consumption.

Like most folks on the Internet (and 100% of bloggers) I suffer from the delusion that I should write professionally.

Of course in the very realest sense, I DO write professionally. And what I write is important, and is sometimes subjected to intense scrutiny. But no one, with the possible exception of Beaglebot, reads patents for pleasure. But I digress.

And like most folks who think they should write professionally, I have several started-but-never-finished writing projects on a hard drive somewhere. I started a wonderful story that mixed practical reincarnation with ancient magics, and blond midwesterners with traditional Japanese feudal culture. I think I still have the first draft somewhere.

Several years ago (two houses and two computer systems ago, actually) I started what was going to be either a novella or a collection of stories that took place on another planet. I actually got quite a lot written, for me, before I stopped working on it. I’ve shown what I have written to a couple of carefully selected people, and even received some positive feedback. I really should go back to working on it. You see, I grew up reading voraciously, and my favorite authors were sci-fi authors. Becoming a published sci-fi author would be like winning the lottery. And I have about the same odds of doing so.

There is a surprising degree of consensus among writers that in order to be a successful writer, you need to write. And that means every day. In other words, you need to work at it. The idea that inspiration can strike you like a thunderbolt, and you crank out the next New York Times Bestseller on your laptop some weekend just isn’t reality. Writing is an art, and a craft, but mostly it’s just hard work.

And I loathe hard work. Plus, I’m writing all day already. So, when I get home, I’m not too enthusiastic about hitting the keyboard for more. And then there are all those video games that are crying out to be played….

And besides, I blog. Blogging is writing, isn’t it? Well, not if you’re Robin Hobb, it isn’t. I very much admire Robin Hobb’s novels, particularly her Farseer trilogy, which was delightful. But I think I have to disagree with her on this. Ms. Hobb says that:

Blogging is not writing. It masquerades as such, t’is true. You sit at the desk, your fingers dance their blind and clever dance across the keyboard, words appear upon the screen, and oh, it feels like writing, like the easiest sort of writing, the writing that needs not to be justified on the morrow.

and

Compared to the studied seduction of the novel, blogging is literary pole dancing. Anyone can stand naked in the window of the public’s eye, anyone can twitch and writhe and emote over the package that was not delivered, the dinner that burned, the friend who forgot your birthday. That is not fiction. That is life, and we all have one. Blogging condemns us to live everyone else’s tedious day as well as our own.

I’m sure that the vast majority of writers agree with her. But I’m not too sure that I do. Instead, I tend to think that blogging is a different kind of writing. One that isn’t dependent upon conventional character development, storyline, etc. It’s a short form, like the readings at a poetry slam. You read a post, it either moves you, or makes you laugh, or it doesn’t, and then you move on.

I mean, some people write short-shorts, stories of 100 words or less. Is that also “not fiction”? Or is it simply another form, with it’s own strengths and weaknesses, cliches and conventions?

To put things into another perspective, you might consider what traditional authors think about sci-fi and other “genre” literature. Michael Chabon, author of Kavalier and Clay and other critically respected works, started out trying to write science fiction:

But I certainly remember in my early 20s, I wanted to write SF of a kind back then. And I turned in a lot of these stories to the writers workshop at UC Irvine. I was met with, if not hostility then incomprehension. [People said things like] “I can’t help you with that. I don’t write science fiction. I don’t read science fiction.”

He’s also been criticized by reviewers for being

“bitter and defensive about his love for genre fiction such as mysteries and comic books. Serious writers, he says, cannot venture into these genres without losing credibility.”

quotes from io9.com

I can’t help but think that the anti-blogging bias is similar that that of the anti-genre fiction bias. Something along the lines of “What I do is important. You aren’t doing what I do, therefore it isn’t important.”

But I don’t blog to write the next Great American Novel. I write here on this little website for my own amusement, mostly. I try to write things that I will like having written, and if they happen to resonate with a reader, so much the better.

In the end, I understand that I won’t accomplish much “serious writing” without getting serious, developing good writing habits, and devoting some time to it. On the other hand, I’m not going to apologize because I choose to keep a blog. It’s apples and oranges. And for right now, oranges are just fine.