Idea Overload

So here's a problem I still haven't learned to cope with: Idea overload. Whatever I happen to be working on at any given moment, well, I'd rather be working on the next thing instead. Sometimes even the thing after that thing. There are always too many projects that appeal to me; too many stories I want to write; too many things I want to try. At times it's a little overwhelming. It's overwhelming RIGHT NOW because there are a solid half-dozen big writing projects I'd like to be working on ... but I don't, because attempting that juggling act is…

Okay, so I CAN wait to get it started

Waaaaaay back in February, I breathlessly posted about my desire to begin the second draft of a science fiction novel I've been kicking around. First draft was done. Readable. But needed work. First I planned to start the second draft early in the year and wrap it up by late spring. Then I pushed it back to March in order to slam out some other, shorter projects. Then Stuff Every Husband Should Know came up and took priority. Then I had to finish scripting Pitched! 2 so we could get it out in 2010. Then I took the rest of…
Pudding

Pudding

I have the house to myself for a few days, which means my usual schedule has been replaced with slothful behavior. I'm okay with that, I think I've earned some down time, but I think it reached a breaking point yesterday when ... How do I say this? When I realized I was sprawled out on the couch, in my boxers, watching South Park and eating an obscenely huge bowl of pudding. Instant shame. Not shame enough to put down the pudding, mind you, because pudding is delicious.

I am a terrible painter

This summer I've returned to something I discovered last summer. Something that had me relaxed in a way few things get me relaxed. Painting. Some brushes, a bit o' canvas, a cold drink, and music while sitting outdoors in the sun, looking over the water and getting lost whipping that brush back and forth. It's very, very easy to wind away an entire afternoon like that. The problem is that I'm awful. Just downright awful. Like, reallyreallyreally awful. And you know? I'm okay with that. I'm okay with that because I'm not doing it for any reason other than to…

Screw you, time. SCREW YOU

Time can go to hell. Or more specifically, the lack of time that seems to exist around me can go to hell. Right to HELL. I don't ask much of this world. As little misery at work as possible, some time with friends and family, some relaxation, and the opportunity to pursue the projects I want to pursue, whether professional endeavors ("Stuff Every Husband Should Know") or hobbies (recording music or doing comic anthologies). But there isn't time to squeeze it all in. This stacks up with that is piled onto that other thing, and pretty soon you're tearing your…