|Oct 31 - Word count - 350
I'm seriously considering changing my name to Author Perry. At least
that way my rejection letters won't sound so impersonal. Did I mention
that I received another rejection for The Long Way to Heaven today?
Being the highly motivated, positive, nothing-can-stop-me kinda guy that
I am, I ony sulked for three or four hours this time, then sent it out
again. I tried a publisher that takes email submissions this time,
which was kind of cool because I got confirmation that they'd received
it about ten minutes later.
Meanwhile, I'm preparing another manuscript to send the old-fashioned way.
I've just about finished carving it out on stone tablets. I just
hope the poor carrier pigeon is up to it. Can birds get hernias?
Oct 30 - Word count - 0
Six days since my last journal entry and I haven't written a word.
This new work schedule is really beating the life out of me. All
I do is sleep and work, or don't sleep and work. Either way my mind
is fuzzy half the time.
But enough about me. What am I saying? This journal is all
about me. Me me me me me! And sometimes about my family, and
my fellow Sock Monkeys. So it's about me me me me me, and them them
them them them. I guess you could say it's about us. How's
that for fuzzy logic? Prozac anyone?
Oct 24 - Word count - 650
I can't remember who first said it, but they're absolutely right--television
is the opiate of the masses. In the old opium houses people would
smoke or inject the drug, lie down, and dream their lives away like
true lotus eaters. How would an outside observer view someone watching
TV. If they had no concept of television, basically they would
see a person, or groups of people, sitting around staring at a box
for hours on end. At least with opium, your own mind fuelled the
fantasy. Television does even that for you. Worse yet, most
opium users didn't have a sudden a urge to snack on pork rinds or pizza
It occurs to me that books aren't much better. The same observer
would see someone staring incessantly at a small, rectangular object.
Technology has given us more free time--time we don't have to spend just
trying to survive, or find something to eat--than at any point in history.
And how do we spend it? Daydreaming, and at someone else's fantasies
Is that to be the ultimate in achievement for the human race? That
one day perhaps we can spend all of our time in a dream state? Isn't
it incredible the way I can take even the most mundane of pleasures and
turn it into something insidious? I love being a writer.
Oct 21 - Word count - 0
Another day, another...um...day. Sorry folks, but that's about as
exited as I can get at the moment. I work from noon until midnight,
sleep until nine, shower, grab a bite to eat, and go back to work.
Oh well, one more day and then it's four days off. As far as novel
dares, I'm afraid this one's a bust. It's amazing how monotony can
suck the creativity right out of you.
Oct 19 - Word count - 0
One of the women at work today was skimming through the local paper and
came across the requisite photo of a bikini clad woman. "I don't
see what's so special about her, " she said. "Woman like that are
a dime a dozen." Yeah, right. You try buying one of those women
for 1.2 cents. Heck, it cost $4.99 a minute just to talk to one of
Oct 18 - Word count - 250
If you go to the Sock Monkey Home page and scroll down to my name, you'll
se a one word description: Superman. I 'd just like to set
the record straight. I am not Superman. Okay, I do where a
blue uniform (and sometimes the red cape...but that's just when Pen and
I are alone, and...never mind) but that's where the similarities end.
First off, I've had sex. Secondly, kryptonite doesn't bother me in
the least--well, not unless you throw it really hard. Thirdly, Superman
was a real do-gooder. I'm in it for the fame and fortune; especially
the fortune. I fully intend to be rich and famous someday.
And when the fans get to be too annoying, I'll just put on a cheap pair
of glasses and walk the streets in total anonymity. (Fans can be
Oct 17 - Word count - 0
Some of my fellow Sock Monkeys have forgone posting their journals, feeling
that it's not...I don't know...proffesional, I guess. Oh yeah?
Well bite me. So far this journal seems to be the only thing of mine
that anyone is bothering to read. Besides, something is professional
when professionals do it. As soon as I'm a published author, then
this will be a professional journal. And there's no use trying to
talk me out of it either. With the kind of logic I just used to justify
this journal, you should know it's hopeless anyway.
Oct 16 - Word count - 600
Well, I didn't manage to solve world hunger, or get published, but I did
build a faster than light drive. It's just a tad faster than light,
but loads faster than heavy. What? Oh... that light.
Nuts. Back to the drawing board.
By the way, recent discussion with my fellow Sock Monkeys has made me curious
as to just who exactly might be reading these inane words of wisdom.
So, if any of you non-Sock Monkeys read this, would you mind clicking on
the url at the bottom of the page and sending me an email? I promise
not divulge your identities to telemarketers, insurance companies, or Amway
salesmen. Oh, and all youse guys in the witness protection program
is exempt too. Youse know who youse are.
Oct 15 - Word count ?
I just came off of four days of midnight shift. I know I wrote something
during that time, I just can't remember what, or how much. Now I'm
on four days off. I plan on doing a lot of writing during that time.
Of course, I planned on winning the lottery yesterday and that didn't pan
out either. I think that's the secret to living a happy life--set
your goals ridiculously high. That way when you fail it's not really
much of a disappointment. That said, tomorrow I think I'll create
a faster than light drive and solve world hunger. Oh yeah, and I
might even get something published.
Oct 12 - Word count (over the last 8 days)
I was away for a while. Did anyone notice?
Writers must be the most masochist people on the planet. Who else
would take something as emotionally satisfying and effortless as daydreaming
and turn it into hard work and constant rejection? It's a good thing
I'm not still seeing my psychologist--I can just imagine what she'd say
(especially if she'd ever read this journal). "All right, that's
it for you. Back on the couch and we'll talk about your mother some
more." Yeah, like that's going to inspire me. My mom reads
Oct 4 - Word count 250
I know it doesn't sound like much, but I only had about 45 minutes
to write this morning before I had to get ready for work. This isn't
nearly the daily output I was hoping for, but all things considered, the
fact that I can write at all is cause for celebration. (Wohoo!
Break out the party hats and noise makers.) Hmm. Bad choice
of words. How about "something a little short of amazing."
(Hey, Martha. Come quick! This young feller here just strung
two words together.) Missed again. What about "something to be proud
of?" (Hey dear, get the video camera quick! Our little boy
is writing again.) Nope. That didn't work either. Suddenly
I get the feeling we writers have an over inflated sense of self importance.
Oct 3 - Word Count: 500
I forgot that this month was the start of the new novel dare. This
word count was actually for yesterday. I started the new job today,
and it's going to take me a bit to get into the rhythm of things.
(Translation: I didn't have time to write today.) Three days
into the dare and I'm already behind. Oh well, hopefully I'll get
a lot of writing done on my four days off. (Translation: If
I can drag my butt out of bed, away from the TV, or out of the kitchen,
I may scribble down a few words or two.)
Darkside ll is coming along well, as is Jinae, and a short story that I'm
working on. I also have ideas for a couple of other short stories,
one of them humorous. (Reality check: I am so hopelessly deluding
myself, but if I just keep up this facade no one will catch on.)
Oops. Oct 2
I had a great time at Context in Columbus, but that had more to do with
the people than the convention itself. I can't say as I really learned
anything new there, but just meeting Charlie again was worth the drive.
Between the two of us we managed to make sure neither of us walked around
with his fly down or with toilet paper dragging from the heel of our shoes,
so I think we made a fairly descent impression. Certainly nothing
to shame our fellow Sock Monkeys.
On the way home, I just missed being in a major car accident by one car.
A few minutes after turning off onto I-90, traffic stopped because of construction.
I came to a halt behind the car in front of me when all of a sudden I heard
a crash, and what was left of the front end of a Ford Explorer spun to
a halt in the left lane just beside my car. Apparently he hadn't
noticed the traffic stop and ran into the rear end of the Cadillac that
was just slowing to stop behind me. The entire rear end of the Caddy
was shoved into the back seat. Anyway, I got out of my car and made
sure that no one was hurt. Both drivers were in their sixties, and
were miraculously uninjured. Several people called for help on their
cell phones. The rest of the ride home was all down hill from there.