Category Archives: writing

goals and new years (and no portzelky)

Recently I was talking to Holly (and I say talking in the sense of typing) and our conversation glanced off the topic of setting goals. That’s one of those things I’ve always found helpful about being in school. Built-in goal: graduate. In 2012 I had two big goals; graduate and get a job. I succeeded in both of those. Hooray. My basic economic needs are met. I have food and shelter and internet connections (and a fucking motorcar).

As far as goals that made me happy and fulfilled and whatever, they were pretty much inadequate. One of my friends mentioned on Facebook last week that 2012 was a successful year for him, but now the goal is to make 2013 a happier one. That sounds like a good plan to me too.

I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out what I need to do now. Because going to work 5 days a week and then coming home and reading isn’t really cutting it. If I were in a place where I had friends then I’d be able to get by like that, because coming home and reading would be a prelude to playing games with people or going to parties or talking not in the sense of typing.
vagabondscrawl pt 1 - BTS
However, I’m not in a place with my friends. So it looks like this is going to be a year of trying to spend more time producing than consuming. I’m going to write more (if not blog more – sorry mom) and read less. I really liked making that stupid little Xwing video on Christmas morning. I’m going to make more stuff like that.

I’d been complaining about the amount of work it would be to do my Lego comic thing as stop-motion (even at a cut-rate 2-3fps), but fuck it. Goodreads says I read 333 books in 2012. I think I can afford to cut back a bit. Making shit may take time, but these days there’s no human with a demand on it. Someday I’ll be somewhere with friends and social things to do, but not right now. I’m okay with disappointing the never-ending stack of unread books by making something, and preferably something only I can make.

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leap-day eve resolutions

This afternoon I baked cookies. I got a recipe from the internet and bought as many baking ingredients as I could carry home (I didn’t have things like flour, sugar or baking powder until today) and then mixed them up and baked them. Woo.

Cookies

Part of doing that baking was obligation. In our 6-9pm Children’s Literature class on Wednesdays people generally bring food to keep our blood sugar up, and I’d volunteered for tomorrow. But more generally, I have to do these things sometimes to remember that I can and kind of enjoy turning ingredients into finished products.

I was thinking about that after reading Jessie Thorn’s big thing on being successful doing what you love that was making its way around the intertubes yesterday.

I spent my reading week getting schoolwork out of the way so now I’ve only got a very manageable amount of that left to do before the term is done. My summer is going to have some classes and lots of conferences and interviews and writing for this big IFLA project I’m working on, but nothing terribly overwhelming on the schoolfront. (Aileen notes that really, none of my schoolwork should be overwhelming, and as always I have to agree. It’s not like I’m doing theoretical physics that undermines our understanding of the universe over here.)

Having the school stuff pretty much handled means its time to make cool things. Sometimes those things may be cookies. Most times those things will be word-based. I’m going to make some comics. One of the school things I have left to do is to create a book trailer. I have ideas for that, and if it goes well it might lead to more video-type projects.

No more laziness. Or at least, laziness only in measured doses.

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coming to terms with the lack of internet

Saturday morning I went out to have a cultural day. A free cultural day. Up at the Sydney Opera House (perhaps you’ve heard of it?) there was an indigenous film festival going on with free screenings. The movie I saw was called Here I Am, and’ll be touring Oz over the next while.

The movie was shown in the Playhouse part of the theatre, so not the gigantic part. Actually, I don’t know if there is a gigantic part. All the different shells are separated for than I’d always assumed. It’s not just one big shell that’d have you looking up at the concave version of the icon from the inside.

After the movie I went for a walk through the botanical gardens to find the Art Gallery of NSW. I knew it was in that vicinity but it’s much deeper behind the park than I’d assumed the last time I went looking for it. On Saturday I found it and wandered around. It’s a free gallery which is appreciated (so I could go now without worrying about wasting it before Holly arrives).

The collection was kind of awesome. They’ve got European masters (I looked at one Monet and recognized very few other artist names in that area since I don’t really know that much about Art) and aboriginal stuff and 20th century Australian art. One painting, “The Telephone Box” by John Brack, was from 1954 but could have been 21st century street art; I checked the date a couple of times.

There was also an exhibit by this Japanese photographer who takes pictures of pictures projected onto posing nigh-naked people painted white. It was pretty neat.

But the coolest exhibit was Unguided Tours, which was a bunch of cool video things. Part of one piece used Google Maps to mark out the discarded condoms in a neighbourhood. Another artist created these awesome video pieces out of these gigantic mounds of junk. One basically made a video of outside a jet window flying above a cloudless ocean. But what made it cool is how the video is constructed out of broken chairs and hairbrushes and a vacuum cleaner hose and an unshaded desk-lamp. Very very neat.

It almost made up for still having no internet at the apartment. Our landlord is apologizing and says there was a mixup last Thursday about the address so they can’t get here till this week.

So far the living with a shared kitchen isn’t going too badly. There’s not an Australian in the building though. We’ve got three Chileans, a Colombian, a New Zealander, and Holly and I will represent North America. When I type it out like that it seems like a lot of people. But it doesn’t feel that full.

I got a library card the other day. And went to the little Chinese grocery store where they carry almost all my favourite Chinese brands of juice and snacks (no Shaolin cookies though). And I’m working on a story to submit for the second Machine of Death anthology. And writing letters. Things aren’t too bad.

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brain-weight

I am always completely amazed at how much better I feel when I have written. Today I finished off the first draft of a cataloguing paper (about the challenges of cataloguing webcomics) and while it’s nothing crazy impressive, I learned some shit and have some stuff written about what I learned. And my mood? So much better than it was yesterday, or all last week when I hadn’t written anything on this and was just dreading it.

A while back I was trying to figure out why I was so much less motivated this term with a month left than last term. And the answer was completely to do with the whole leaving for China the day after classes were over. I needed to get everything out of the way so I did. This term there’s cool stuff happening after classes are done (going to Vermont and then to Australia), but nothing I need to push myself right now for. And no Holly waiting for me right on the other side. (She’ll be coming to Oz in July.)

But today I feel good. I wrote a post for Closed Stacks (another library blog I’m contributing to) and a book review. I’ve got business cards in the mail. Tonight I’m going to do some real writing. Oh, and Reyn’s a dad (I saw it on his sister’s Facebook), so congratulations.

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what makes an artist

In the current Webcomics Weekly podcast Scott Kurtz talks about what makes a cartoonist being a unique worldview, not using cartooning to make money by adding static to the internet (plus bearsnatch). It’s a really interesting discussion of shifting big-tent definitions of art. “I worked really hard on this,” Kurtz says, which makes him mad that the Oatmeal guy calls himself a cartoonist. And that the business model is the only part of PvP that his non-fans care about, when he cares so much about the craft of cartooning.

There was stuff about how you learn about the history of what you love, and getting really passionate about the history of your craft. There’re bits about how he felt embarrassed to have to ask who Jack Kirby was and why he was important, and how he has to explain stuff about why Peanuts was so revolutionary.

Man, it was a good discussion. If you care about the intersection of art and business, or working really hard on your skills vs leapfrogging to success, or like to hear a guy say curmudgeonly stuff you might find it interesting.

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trappings of winter

It’s gotten cold around here. Last night it snowed in Chengdu. The internet says we’re somewhere around 4 degrees outside right now. Which isn’t bad if you have well-insulated buildings and heating, but is mighty shitty if things are otherwise.

Holly has an air conditioner in her apartment which is also a heater, but we can’t run it at night because it’s kind of noisy and it keeps her neighbours up. They left a note on the door about “their bedroom shaking” after the one night we did turn it on. So it’s all about the multiple blankets, which gets inconvenient if you ever want to leave the bed. For food, say.

Although today we did make some good soup/stew/vegetables. We bought the vegetables to make this soup yesterday because of the soup stock Sam’s mom brought us, but when lunchtime rolled around the water to the apartment had been cut off for some reason. It’s hard to make soup without any water. (Also, pooping into a hole you can’t flush brings cholera epidemics to my mind, so it was kind of an uncomfortable day.) The water was restored at like 10pm but before that we bought soup from a nearby restaurant that Holly is rapidly losing faith in. Today we cooked our soup in the rice cooker for hours until really there wasn’t much soupiness to it at all, but it was tasty.

I’ve been getting some writing done but nothing’s going as smoothly as I would like. The story I was working on turned out to be crappy. No, just uninteresting. So I’m repurposing the good details that I had into something else which is interesting. Moreso. I hope.

We went for hotpot the other day and it was some special style of hotpot using a copper pot with a chimney and coals instead of a gas flame. I love mushrooms in hotpot but for some reason, though we had a tray full of them, mushrooms were the last things to get dumped into the cauldron. I had to brave so many unpleasant mouthfuls of bony fish before we got to the stuff I enjoyed.

It’s also really nice having a girlfriend at hotpot who likes stuff like duck intestines so I can pass them off to her when our hosts were placing the choicest entrails in my bowl. Thank you Holly. I don’t know why duck intestines are so cringe-inducing in me, when I can eat those shredded stomachy bits with impunity. Probably because I ate those stomachs for so long before realizing they weren’t a kind of chewy mushroom.

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like the ocean

The noise from the school next to Holly’s apartment is impressive in the morning. Holly had to leave early to get her lessons ready but she warned me. “I hope you have good headphones if you want to get any work done. It’s loud. They start at 8.” And it’s not that I didn’t believe her. She’s been telling me about the school noise for months, because it’s something I didn’t experience when I was here in the summer.

This morning I was buried under blankets when the noise began to build. It wasn’t so much dread inducing as how I imagine surfing must be like. You see the wave coming and I guess if you’re good at it you can tell what kind of wave it’ll be and how best to ride it, but I was out paddling on my board doing my best seal-impression for the sharks below, seeing something build and guessing. Is this it? How big will it get? Will I be able to handle it or am I going to be the shmuck who dies on his first attempt.

The school noise wasn’t that bad (I didn’t feel like I was going to die, and managed to get a good chunk of work done without good headphones), but it did keep on building and building until it stopped for a megaphoned voice to harangue people. Maybe it’s just because it’s Monday and this was the traditional week-beginning assembly or something, but the voice went on for an hour. After they all sang the national anthem, whose tune I realized I still could sort of remember from back in Wanzhou.

Even now (it’s about 10am) the kids are basically just white noise of shouting and boisterousness. It’s one of the shouting (or electronically amplified) teachers exhorting his students that really cuts through. He sounds a little like a hoarse host of a Japanese talk show, you know with all of that fake wacky energy? But it sounds like his class is responding so who am I to judge. Just a lousy ex-teacher who’s sitting in bed writing.

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i guess it’s saturday today?

I think I left the house yesterday. Yes I did. I bought some groceries. And the day before, I’d been to school and off visiting libraries for homework purposes and then to Kerry’s for board- and party- gaming. We played Settlers and the endgame got bogged down as it sometimes does. I skipped out on Dominion because I was recuperating from Settlers, where I’d made the classic mistake of jumping to a lead too soon and not being able to close it out before getting ganged upon. Selah. I’d been pretty lucky in my early resources.

The rest of the weekend’s been homework. I’m almost done the actual Subject Headings part of the last assignment for one of my classes (leaving the essay about the experience still to go). I’m giving a selection of my comics collection subject headings to describe what they’re about. I’m not breaking down the series like DMZ or Transmetropolitan into specific volumes and giving them each their own headings. It still got kind of out of hand (I have a lot of fun making lead-in terms). So far I’ve done it all in a text document without any layout type stuff so I don’t have a clue how big it would be on paper and that’s probably for the best.

I woke up to snow, which made it a good day to stay inside and work. It’s fine when the snow is on the mountains and I can see it up there when the clouds are high enough, but I’m not a big fan of it being here in my part of town. I came to Vancouver for rain and being able to bike to school all winter without ice spikes on my tires. Three days before I bike again.

One of the things I’m looking forward to about China (beyond just being with Holly and eating baked goods and watching movies Holly needs to see and not having assignments that need doing and being a somewhat useful dishwasher for the woman I love) is getting some writing work done. I’ve been terrible about it this semester. I know that so much of it has to be just sitting down and making the time to do it. Holly’ll be working when I’m there, so I’ll be filling my time with working too. I did this when I went to visit Nanjing in 2008, all spending my mornings writing while Holly was working. I got a lot done. Hopefully I can repeat myself, at least effort-wise.

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free as in oatmeal stout

After a meh sort of meeting at school today, I stopped off for ice cream and beer, both of which were sorely lacking in my part of the fridge. I’m walking up my street, bag with ice cream in one hand, box of beer in the other, and as I was approaching a skinny woman probably in her 20s, she said “Hey, how’s it going?” I think that’s what she said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me. I glanced at her, and she was wearing big sunglasses and clothes that rode that thrift-store-hipster/actual-hobo line pretty well. She had been talking to me, and she eyed my box of beer.

“Hey, umm, would I be able to trade you a pack of smokes for one of your beers? ‘Cause I’m really hung-over and you’d just be saving my life,” she said. I stopped, and kind of made my “I don’t think so” face as I formulated the sentence about me not needing a pack of cigarettes.

“Please,” she continued. “I just need something to drink. I’m so hung over.”

That’s what convinced me. The fact that she felt that her being hung over was a reason that’d convince me to trade beer with her. It just seemed so illogical there was no way I could not reward it. This might seem to contradict completely my denial of Halloween candy to that kid for not having a costume last week, but he didn’t even try to convince me. His heart wasn’t in it. This woman really wanted a beer, and this was her form of legitimate reasoning. She was so convinced it would work, she said it twice. I had to respect that.

So I opened my box of beer and gave her a bottle. She was rummaging for smokes and I told her not to worry about it. She told me karma would smile on me and I told her to have a good afternoon.

And then when I got home I found, not five dollars, but my copies of Machine of Death waiting for me. I’ve only read a couple of stories so far, and I think I’m going to wait till December to really sink into it. I’ve got the electronic version ready to go on my reader so it’ll be good travelling material. If you want to buy a copy, now that the “Let’s Be an Amazon Bestseller for a Day!” push is over, I’d probably get it from Topatoco, where you can buy loads of other books/T-shirts/gewgaws made by other indie creators I’m proud to be, however tangentially, associated with.

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fallible machines

First: Tuesday October 26th is the day it’d be awesome if you bought Machine of Death on Amazon. I’ve got a story in it and it’d be wonderful to see this little indie book that could be a bestseller for a day. /endsalespitch

I love finishing assignments, as I can then waste like two days rewarding myself with pleasure reading, which is much more fun than the procrastination reading I’d been doing. Tomorrow I’ll be getting back to work on schoolish stuff.

This afternoon I went to a Librarians Without Borders meeting about developing a library in Kabul. It’s all very interesting and laudable, but it seems a bit over a student group’s head to help with. It’s funny because you want to “fail boldly” and such, but when face to face with a big issue it’s very much “I don’t actually have the capabilities to do anything about that right now.” I suppose you could make it your thing, just throw yourself into it and get to the point that you’d actually be useful, but I certainly don’t feel at that point already. Maybe after I left the meeting the speaker got into some more concrete stuff he wanted out of us. I’ll have to check the notes my co-secretary was taking.

I had to leave early because one of our profs had arranged a tour of an exhibition “Following A Line” at the Contemporary Art Gallery, which was downtown and entailed some busing. It was an interesting exhibition, multimedia and contemporary art-ish. The best part was one exhibit which had two slide projectors running and projecting gelled photos by Agatha Christie on opposite walls. Part of the thing about the piece was supposed to be that you can’t see both pictures at the same time, and how “these cliched images we’ve all seen before” are affected by being shot by Christie (“a notable racist”) and the colour added by the artist. The funny part (and what made it the best) was that the bulb on one of the projectors had burnt out, so as the curator explained about the images she was pointing at a blank wall, saying “Unfortunately today you can’t see these ones at all.” As the machines clacked on.

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