I’m A Loser, Baby, So Why Don’t You Kill Me?

Table of Contents

Hello again. I got a lot done this week.

That’s fine. Are you done with your hissy fit?

You and I are going to have some words.

Last week, I talked about going through the first chapter of my novel. I spent time expanding some of the elements but couldn’t figure out why things felt weird. I was missing something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. So, on Monday, I woke up at around 6 am and started trying to hash out my chapter one problems. I sorted each scene or beat in the first chapter by different elements:

  • Plot – What is happening in the story
  • Worldbuilding – what is shown to us that enhances the world
  • Theme – This is vague but more or less discusses the emotional beats I’m trying to strike. You would probably define this as the character’s journey, but I labeled it a theme. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the theme, maybe it’s a journey, but perhaps it’s both?
  • Sensory – These were the unique sensory items in the world that I felt would be interesting to highlight. I thought these show-do-not-tell elements would help liven up my writing a bit, so I wanted to make sure I was, at least, cognizant of them.

Once I sorted out all the pieces, I filled a 4×6 whiteboard full of stuff, but it still needed something. Each element was in its place, but it lacked something to bring us to this point. This process led me to the idea of writing a new beginning.

Something that I stumbled into was that my character is a child throughout most of this book. He’s ten at the beginning. I’m trying to treat him like an adult, meaning that he doesn’t necessarily have ALL the baggage that an adult has. He will have baggage, but the crux of the story is about watching him build the traumas that make him the man he is at the end of the book. Some call this a coming-of-age story.

Starting him at a point in the story where he is dealing with the past baggage isn’t going to cut it here. Whatever I needed him to be later in the story needs to be shown because, in essence, that is the story’s point. So, I’m going to go back a little bit and make his “normal world” who he is as a result of his current baggage to further emphasize the difference between his circumstances now and his circumstances later. This realization jump-started my progress.

Wow, that’s great. Now tell me how you screwed it up.

I didn’t screw it up, but I still have a screenwriter’s brain. Part of me almost dropped the novel entirely and started writing the story as a screenplay because I was just tired of trying to hurdle over the prose. It makes me appreciate screenwriting and the immediacy of its visual nature. I need to bring that to prose, and I will drag myself kicking and screaming because, if not, I will never publish a story. I have to do something.

Was that it?

No, no. I have more to tell. A lot more, so buckle up buttercup.

I also finished the script for my first YouTube video. It’s not a big deal, but it came in around twenty-five hundred words. It’s about the movie Furiosa.

I have hesitations about making the video. Not because I don’t think what I have to say is terrible, but does what I say even matter? My opinion on the matter is different than anyone else’s right now. Most people online are focusing on whether or not it’s woke and telling us it failed at the box office. Most of them ignored it as a story. That’s my thing. What I want to talk about. Forget all the politics of storytelling (although discussing those things is essential to storytelling as a whole) and focus exclusively on the work itself.

Writing it out here makes it sound perfect. Now, I have to find time to record the voiceover.

I wish I didn’t have to do YouTube. Making videos becomes another chore, but I’m afraid if I don’t do something to get myself exposure, no one will find my stories. I can’t get any notoriety and do my work by being a nobody. I have to do something, and blogging certainly isn’t going to cut it today.

I enjoy talking about and troubleshooting stories. I love creating stories, but I have no friends, no fans, nothing. The only way is YouTube. I have to find someone, anyone, to simply say, “I want to hear what you have to say.” Fear of the future just keeps me from committing and keeps me held back. I have to overcome those fears, or else my stories will die on my shelf.

Ok, boss. Put down the gun. Nice and slow.

I want to talk about a lot of stuff, but I don’t know if this is the venue. The post is already getting long, and no one will read it as it is. So, here we go.

I was looking for a writing job. I found a video game company hiring writers with no experience; you need a portfolio to apply. I think I would be good for the job because I have a lot of skills that come from my diversity of jobs and the breadth of experience that I’ve acquired in my life. I know people. I might be forty, but that makes me more qualified than a twenty-year-old with no experience. My portfolio is vast, and I don’t believe it’s amateur hour, either. I can be an asset to someone.

The trouble becomes, what if I get the job? If so, what are the consequences? I would have to relocate, and as it stands right now, that would mean leaving my family behind to pursue what I want. In today’s self-centered world, there is nothing inherently wrong with that statement, but I’ve put myself aside for twenty-five years. I’ve put my family first. I’ve brought in children that weren’t mine and put them ahead of my well-being. Not putting others first feels, at best, unnatural, while at worst, grotesque. Thinking of myself feels slimy.

The American mind cannot comprehend.

I want to be creative so severely that I can’t stand it anymore. God, that’s the most Tumblr thing I’ve ever written. People talk about mid-life crises,’ but I’m aging backward at this point. Good lord, help me.

It’s one thing to spend time alone doing my work, but trying to live that way feels like a violation, and I feel stuck.

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