Tag: Writing

#LoveCrunchTime

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Why do I consistently wait until the last minute to complete work? (I recently completed my largest project of all time. I had over a month to complete what amounted to 44 hours of work, yet I still crunched through 38 hours in the final two days, staying up until 5:30 am and evolving into a giddy, manic machine).

  1. Being in time-crunch is thrilling and I enjoy a good rush.
  2. It makes work take less time, and I don’t like work. (Since I don’t have time to lollygag or double-back, I don’t lollygag or double back).
  3. “That’s a problem for future-Julian, and what has that guy ever done for me?”
  4. I’m a lazy fuck… who does what he promises. (I would never do it, but that’s not an option so I come as close as possible.)
  5. The system works so I have no incentive to change it.
  6. You never know when the teacher will change the assignment last minute. Did I say “teacher”? I meant “customer”. They’re shockingly similar.

Why “Always Better”?

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Why do I call my blog “Always Better”? Four reasons:

  1. It should be strictly better than some other activities. Eating popcorn or browsing Reddit, for example: this blog should Always be a Better use of time.
  2. I Always want to be a Better writer. Better than who? Better than I was yesterday. Better than I was this morning. Better than I’ve ever been.
  3. It’s a pun for what I wanted to be when I started the blog: Better in All Ways. [1]
  4. They say creative lives are a gamble.  That makes this blog is a bet, which means I’m Always Betting.[2]

[1]  I no longer want that. Instead, I’ve turned off improvement in some areas to focus more on the few I care strongly about.

[2] I haven’t fount my creative life particularly gamble-y, but that’s a topic for another time.

Paul Simon

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We don’t see musical legends to hear music; we come to view the divine. Headphones are better for music. I saw Paul so I could think, “That’s the closest to God I’ve ever seen.”

He opened with America, which stabs my chest with recollections of love for someone who disappears for months at a time. Then came hit after hit that even your kids would know.

He didn’t sing Bridge over Troubled Water or Mrs. Robinson – both #1s. “Maybe he doesn’t want to sing them without Garfunkel.” But he sang The Sound of Silence, and that was a Garfunkel song. (And anyway, it’s not about the music).

His solo pieces strip the man down to emotional expression. His body drops away and Paul becomes a voice, guitar, and poetry.

Can we substitute in a bad rendition of those two #1s instead of the string-backed songs he played that no one knew? Does he care about my opinion? Should he?

There goes a man who achieved his purpose. He lived a satisfying, accomplished life. What more is there?

How can my writing impact as many lives as his did, and still provide the high of thousands making pilgrimage en masse to realize I’m not God?

For Writing’s Sake!

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What do I do when I don’t want to write?

I write about how I’m annoyed.

Dozens of writings begin with the phrase,

“I don’t want to write today.”

After a while it evolves into poem

Or into emotional quandary.

The process can feel like picking a scab

Or bleaching ratty laundry.

 

Sometimes I only know five minutes in

That my first few beginnings were flounders

Eventually arriving at the place in my mind

Where seconds are minutes are hours.

Time stands still and speeds along

As I’m lost in expressing myself.

I nibble at feelings, explore one of my sides

Before putting it back on the shelf.

 

Most of the time I write end-of-day;

It typically feels like a chore.

Why do I do it? Why write every day?

Because that’s what a writer is for.

A stabilizing force, it keeps me sane,

Reminding me life has no breaks.

Even if just one sentence: “I don’t wish to write,”

I write for writing’s sake.

Most ideas are bad ideas

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Don’t jump at once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Time-constrained doesn’t mean high-quality. Top-of-mind doesn’t mean you should say it. Most ideas are bad ideas, even scarce, enticing ones.

Prioritization and patience are a pair of twins: prioritization is the concept, patience the implementation. Priorities are a rank-order of your values consistent across situations. Patience allows you to align your behavior with those values whenever a new idea arises or an opportunity presents itself.

When someone makes me angry, I often implicitly prioritize that anger, but I don’t have to. Some people channel their anger into achieving their goals instead of letting the anger steer them. The same can be true for other emotions.

An effective marriage between priorities and patience is part of why people with singular focuses are more likely to succeed. If your whole life serves the purpose of creating great literature, each thought, moment, and event slots somewhere under that heading. Every moment could be a story; every word becomes fascinating. If your life serves a purpose, each perception does, too.

Reading isn’t doing. It’s barely even reading. 

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The wiry man I thought was homeless

Too quickly suggests he can help sell my book,

With phrases like “sales funnel” and “affiliate links”

And name-drops of famous cult leaders.

 

His face shape and speech pattern

Conjure images of the family friend

Whose emotional problems

Prompted expulsion from school for threatening another student.

 

I emailed this man, thinking, “Eh, what’s the harm?”

He hasn’t set off alarm bells—

Only over-bold signs of earnest devotion,

And who am I to punish him for that?

I dislike “I don’t like” 

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“I dislike fish” is different from “I don’t like fish.” The first establishes an existence while the second allows for a neutral feeling or no opinion.

Through linguistic constructs like this, the English language implies that liking is the existence of action and disliking is the absence. (In addition to “like, “I care” is an action and “I don’t care” is an absence. See also “I love” and “I don’t love,” as well as “I’m a fan of…” and “I’m not a fan of…”).

This language suggests that bad is the absence of good. In reality, however, good is the absence of bad.* Our language should reflect that.

*While I’m confident in this statement, I have trouble articulating “why” beyond simply giving examples. I suspect it boils down to the fact that “good” eventually boils down to our struggle against entropy, which is the always-coming bad. 

My Book Idea Just Hit #1 on Amazon.

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Unfortunately, I didn’t write that version. I didn’t complete any version. I did, however, develop the same idea, which shows you the value of incomplete ideation:

Five years ago I had the notion to write an alphabet book where all the letters were silent. I’d call it “M is for Mnemonic” and mess with kids. Last year, lying late at night on a tennis court under the stars, a friend and I spitballed different words. We finished the alphabet. Those notes are below.

P is for Pterodactyl is currently #1 on Amazon. It’s pun-filled, polished, and most importantly published. Kudos to the writer. It’s a great idea.

 

A is for oatmeal

B is for dumb or subtle

C is for yacht or cnidarian

D is for Django Reinhardt, now unchained.

E is for hate

F is for <beep>

G is for slaughter

H is for herb or eh

I is for the rain in Spain, which falls mainly on the plain.

J is for fjord

K is for knife

L is for talk or folk.

M is for mnemonic (name of book?)

N is for god damn

O is for tough

P is for corps

Q is for (quiet) (because quiet is silent even though the q isn’t. For example, if someone is mouthing “quiet!”)

S is for corps

T is for Colbert. Like Stephen, eating sorbet.

U is for baroque

V Is for Moskva (Moscow)

X is for faux

W is for ewe.

Y is for you

Z is for the first z in pizza

 

The background storyline / one of the storylines is a pair of parents fighting because they’re having trouble teaching their kid the alphabet

Try sending it as a real children’s book of just the letter-phrases and illustrations, captioned “for gifted tykes”

Then, we can also hit the ironic market after. It’s not the first market though, and the real market has a larger chance to be really big

On the 7th day, God rested. He didn’t just not-work; He rested.

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Is a veg day the necessary calm after a storm? After 13 hours work yesterday, today was pizza and soda and staying up past 3. At the end of these days, I typically feel sad. Nobody gains when a person lets their life spiral away. I didn’t even read much, which I really should do more.

You needn’t spend every second moving toward what you want, but you can be and should be if you have the right aims. Retreating is sometimes the best way to advance. I wonder if that was the point of today.

On the 7th day, God rested. If God needs rest, I must too. These days must be okay. I feel less bad now, less regret.

I assisted a friend with her ten-year-old student. I helped a high school boy plan for his future. He liked an essay I wrote enough to share it with his class. I didn’t work–so what? I’m following my natural rhythm: Fits & starts, sprints & walks.

I’ve been having all sorts of wonderful experiences–futbol and tennis, befriending locals, helping kids. Today was a slow heart rate, no-work relaxed day. I opened a new book and began my next writing project.

I learned about myself. This is who I was. I can be someone else tomorrow. “Was” doesn’t mean “am.”