You Guys are Jerks

This blog is pretty much just for fun.

It has been inspired by other great blogs, such as Allie's hilarious Hyperbole and a Half. 

However I'm not Allie, or any of the other great bloggers. They do wonderful, inspiring work and I don't intend to make this my day job.

So what is Paw (Post-Apocalyptic Wonderland) about? It's mostly for the stuff I can't get out of my head. The little jokes, quips and ideas that I just need to put somewhere. The things I feel like sharing and that hopefully someone will look at and think 'hey, that's kind of neat' or 'yeah, I feel the same way'. Maybe it won't end up that way but really I just need to dislodge this stuff from my brain.

So what's today's blog about? Writing. I've been trying to write for years, however I've run into some problems along the way. Maybe this will answer my friend's questions about why I don't write more or make them understand why I abandoned that one storyline that they kind of liked.

The first problem is Jeremiah. Freaking Jeremiah.

He's been a character in my head for years. If you're a writer or something similar, you know that sometimes characters show up of their own volition and you have to kind of get a feel for them before you understand how they work and where they belong. Jeremiah just showed up one day and the bugger won't leave. The problem is that he doesn't make any sense. He won't 'talk' like other characters, I can't get a feel for why or how he does things and some of his actions just plain don't make sense.

He also jacks story lines constantly. I've tried just making stories without him, as I know he'll come across as flat and one-dimensional without any characterization or backstory but he just shows up and takes over.

Like so:

 

 

 

There's also Will. We won't get into Will.

There's also the problem of explicitness. What I mean by this is the choice whether or not to add in sexy times, swearing, violence, and other such 'adult' themes. If you want to write a realistic novel, you pretty much have to have at least a little bit of this and there's only so much you can gloss over. Not everyone wants a grimdark tale with lots of blood, guts and sexy ladies but what if you're writing about a war, or in a dystopian setting where bad things sometimes happen to good people? What if you add in demonic themes? Sure, it's going to get a little bloody. You have to set up the bad things so the hero can eventually right all those wrongs.

I want to write something semi-realistic and if you've been paying attention the last five minutes you probably already realize I have a few characters who are not good people. It happens.

"Well!"- you are probably thinking- "The issue is surely that you don't want to glorify such actions, so that the reader won't mistakingly think that you are some sort of psychotic pervert, yes?" You probably are smoking a pipe and are wearing a monocle at this time. "That merely takes some skill as a writer. Do you fear that you are not up to snuff?"

Nope. I'm worried about my parents.

Sometimes I go to write a certain scene (not a specific one, mind you, just some scenes in general) and I worry. I pause and think about my mother. My wonderful mother who pushed me to be creative and bought me all those books that inspired me. The one who didn't mind when I dragged along a notebook to family events, just so that I could write.

I imagine finally getting a book published and my mother picks up her fresh, signed copy, a smile on her face. Her little girl made this. She's so proud.

 

She sits down, beaming as she cracks the book open, noting that it is dedicated to her, my father and my friends. So considerate!

I check on her some time later, dreading each moment as I walk up to her perch on the couch. With growing horror I notice the look on her face. The look of shock and dread, the realization of what is unfolding before her eyes.

Her child wrote this. She knows now what has been going on in her child's head, what she has been writing about in those notebooks for so many years.

Later, when the shock wears off, she'll wonder what she has done as a mother to cause this.

That is why I'm still stuck with these people in my brain.

There are other considerations as well. I don't wish to blame others for my failings but at some points I just really do not want to unleash an Eldritch horror upon my mother. 

I don't think she even knows who H.P. Lovecraft is.