Tag Archives: Satire

I don’t want to grow up…

geoffrey_giraffeYeah, there is just something about that jingle that takes me right back to the days of me and my two brothers circling things in the department store catalogs before Christmas. It was our makeshift Christmas lists, and although we were fairly certain that we would not be getting the G.I. Joe Carrier, the U.S.S. Flagg, you just had to circle that thing, because… who knew, Santa might be extra generous this year.gi-joe-aircraft-carrier

Over the years, I stopped circling things in catalogs. I stopped making Christmas lists. Somewhere along the line, I became the guy who ended up filling those lists, filled with sugar plums (which I just recently found out are a candy and not some kind of sugar-coated fruit… ok, it is a sugar-coated fruit, but not the way I was thinking…) and faerie wishes and toys that would make any small child squeal with delight on Christmas morning. Continue reading I don’t want to grow up…

I have been writing since I was in elementary school. I mean, the creative kind, not the other. I have obviously been writing since before kindergarten… well, maybe not so obvious.. and look.. a bunny trail right off the bat. (I can already hear my wife saying “Focus”) Ok, so.. as I was saying.. writing, elementary, creative.. ok.. back on track.

In that time frame I have had hundreds of stories that I have wanted to write. Ideas so grand that they would have been spectacular to read. If… I could only get them out of my head. There are times when I come across a story and I look at my wife and say, “That was my story from 20 years ago.” or I see someone with a name that I created when I was a teenager and I tell her, “I made that name.”

Everytime I do, she has the same response. She looks at me lovingly, sorrow filling her eyes, sympathy spreading from her heart out towards me as she embraces me in a loving hug and pats my head and strokes my hair and tells me, “You should have written the story then.”

Ok, none of that is true, except for that last part. She totally just drives that nail straight into my heart and, personally, I think she enjoys it a bit too much. I married a sadistic woman… but everyone that knows her will think I am lying because she is the nicest person any of them have ever met (or close enough that it’s just a matter of semantics).

I’m not really sure what it is that stops me. Sometimes I get bored with the story because I completed it in my head, sometimes I don’t think I’m good enough, sometimes I let every distraction get in my way, and sometimes procrastination is way too comfortable.

Then there is this blog. A source of enjoyment because I can complete something. Creating in itself a sense of accomplishment that I am truly writing and finishing something, even though it is more akin to eating cake then a proper meal. It’s the sugar rush without the content. It is an interesting conundrum.

Excuse me while I go bang my head on the desk…

Ok… now that I am done self deprecating, I do have several stories I am working out. One in particular has hit an interesting snag with the plot and I have slowly been working it out. Another has an enemy issue. Then there is the one that is a trilogy that just seems daunting every time I even think about it.

I really should just start writing them. Just get it out of my head, blow through the excuses, and do it.

At least that way I wouldn’t have to hear my wife say “You should have written the story then.”

Again.

pingback

Putting it Off…

There’s work to be done,

I’m very sure of that,

As I take off my coat and hang up my hat.

I sit at my desk,

I straighten my tie,

I stare at the screen and ask myself ‘Why?’

Why did I put it off,

Adding more for today?

Procrastination always gets in the way.

I don’t think I’ll finish,

Or meet my deadlines,

The boss will surely yell, the blame is all mine.

I hang my head low,

Put my palms to my face,

And pray a silent prayer and beg for some grace.

Taking a deep breath,

And holding it in.

I grab hold of my work and just… dive in.

Little White Truths

I am a horrible person.

There, I admitted it. Not a surprise to those that know me, I am sure. But to those that don’t, this may come as a shock. Now, I know many might be asking what nefarious thing have I gone and done this time, but I will get to that shortly. I just feel with the Christmas time being so near, I need to clear the air about my wrong doing. Or rather, about my… not wrong doing… as it truly would be stated.

See, I don’t lie. Not the big fat ugly ones, not the little innocent white ones. So much so that I have told my wife pretty plainly, “Don’t ask me a question you don’t want an answer too.” As she is sure to eventually ask the dreaded question all husbands seem to lie about…”Does this make me look fat?” to which I would have to respond in a manner that would deprive me of… well, marital bliss… shall we say. Continue reading Little White Truths