Monthly Archives: June 2010

Creative Momentum

One thing that I’ve noticed, especially recently, is a need to keep writing, no matter what. If I’m having a bad day or if I just don’t feel like writing; that’s irrelevant. I can’t just stop because I don’t feel like doing it or if I don’t really feel “the spark”. I have got to keep going, keep putting one word in front of the other and not let myself get bogged down in little, inconsequential things like, “Oh, I’ve written about this topic a dozen times already” or “This really sucks”.

That doesn’t mean the shit I’m shoveling needs to go up on the blog necessarily. It can stay hidden in some dark trunk somewhere, never allowed to see the light of day.

But it does need to be written. Every time I write something, it’s putting my brain to work, thinking in the particular way that’s necessary for the writing process. And the more I do it, the easier it is.

Meanwhile, if I stumble and let a day go by for any reason (writer’s block, bad day, the cat exploded, whatever), then it becomes that much easier for me to just stay away from the computer when I just don’t feel up to it. And that’s truly inexcusable, especially for someone who wants to make this their living.

I haven’t always had the discipline to make writing my job and I still don’t really. But I’m getting more and more to the point where I think I could actually pull this off.

Now I just need to get published. And that’s the easy part.

You know, comparatively speaking.

Dylan Charles

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Vagueries

Currently, I don’t have much to write about, if my lengthy purple prose entry yesterday didn’t already convey that fact to you.

It’s not that there’s nothing in my life going on. There are things, many and multitudinous, that I could theoretically talk about, but I either don’t want to, I can’t, or I have nothing truly interesting to say about the subject.

I just spent ten minutes writing out a paragraph about something that I’m pretty sure I can’t really talk about because someone might read it who I don’t want to read. So it’s been deleted. It’s a good thing though.

Then there’s this other thing that’s not very good, but I can’t talk about it, so I’m not going to write about it either. You should be feeling sad right about now, about the bad thing I can’t write about. Frowny face.

Then there are the things that are so vague and up in the air that I don’t really have much to say. YET.

In general, my life is feeling very vague and insubstantial, like everything is in a holding pattern in the aether. Nothing DEFINITE is really happening and it’s frustrating me in a lot of ways, not the least of it being that I’m having trouble writing anything or thinking about something to write about.

Hopefully in the next couple of days I’ll have something to say. Scratch that. Hopefully I’ll have something to say about.

Dylan Charles

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Portrait of a Writer’s Block

It is not without trepidition that I start this post. Not because I’m concerned that I’ll reveal some deep dark secret, one that will shock the world and cause my friends to abandon me in droves. Nor am I concerned that I’ll dissolve in a misty, murky jumble of emotionally driven platitudes and cliches, vomiting out angst onto the screen for everyone to see.

Both would actually be preferable to the reality: which is that I am devoid of idea, absent of thought and bereft of creative jots.

At the most, my brain holds an iota (but no more) of concept, lurking somewhere in the back; a thing, frail Phantom, waiting in the wings to deliver The Idea. I can hear him, just a murmur, a whisper of notion.

But so far, he’s not saying anything that I can hear.

So I keep writing, in the hopes that he’ll speak up before I hit the end. But it’s becoming more and more unlikely that he’ll make an appearance. Deus ex machinas are so rare in real life. No shadowy figures standing in doorways who step into the light to reveal it’s the hero that everyone thought was dead. No cavalry, who conveniently remained hidden behind a hill until they were most needed, and then burst onto the scene to the joy of the buxom woman and the desperate gunslinger, their backs to canyon wall while fearsome injuns prepare to pepper them with arrows.

I’m getting closer to the end now and still nothing. I fear my Phantom idea has exited, in hopes of finding greener passages in which to burgeon. Which leaves me to dig deeper, trying to find the words to end this entry, releasing both you AND me from this shapeless purgatory.

In cases such as these, it’s always best to just go with the cliche. That’s why they exist after all, to provide refuge for those who cannot find the words to describe something.

So let’s cap this off with two little words and you can be on your way. Leaving me here, still looking, still hoping, that I’ll come up with something to write about.

THE END

Dylan Charles

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Emily: Do Not Read This Until You Watch the Game

In the interest of continuing a theme, because I do love continuity when it springs up in my blog, I’m going to have another blog post on soccer. Which means I’m going to chatter nonstop about the Germany vs England game that happened a few hours ago, showing that I’m both topical and timely.

First off, I understand that they want to keep the game going and that they want it to be as fluid as humanly possible, but would it kill them to have some sort of technology that lets the refs see if the damn ball goes into the damn goal? Like, say, I dunno, a camera feed? Or some kind of sensor that makes a big green light come on. Or a large tropical bird that lives in the goal and squawks when a ball comes in over the line. You know, anything!

Immediately after England’s goal was determined to be not a goal, I began to Google, wondering if the ref’s decision could be taken back at some point. And apparently that’s a “no” and that this whole “eyeball a goal to see if it went over the line” thing is hardly a new issue.

It’s especially frustrating because I didn’t want Germany to win on some damn technicality, I wanted them to flat out WIN.  And if the score had stayed 2-1, that would not be the case. Really it would have just been a tie and that’s not as fun.

However, Germany decided to make it clear who the winner was. Granted, one COULD take into account numerous variables (maybe a definite second goal would have given England the extra oomph it needed to get a third goal) and examined the may-have-beens and could-have-beens, but I think the final score indicated a clean win for Germany.

So I think I might be getting more into this soccer thing. But just a bit.

Although, I’m currently sulking because ESPN is not showing the Argentina game live.

Dylan Charles

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Not Very Sporting

I’ve never been much of a sports person. I’ve watched games before and know enough of the basic rules of say, baseball, football and basketball that I can enjoy a game. But, I’ve never followed a team or payed much attention to what’s going on in the sports world. I don’t really have the attention span or the passion for any one sport or team to stick with ‘em for a whole season.

Paradoxically, I get really emotionally involved when I do watch a game. I’ll arbitrarily pick a team (“Hey, that’s a cool mascot” or “They’re from the south too!” or “Nice uniforms!”) and then attach every ounce of self worth to that team. And immediately disengage after the game is over.

It’s even more stressful for me if it’s, say, the Tarheels playing, a team that I’m actually connected to. When I went to UNC, I watched a few televised games, but I was always exhausted after each game. Too much emotional rollercoastering.

Now I’ve started watching some of the World Cup matches, with Emily explaining the rules to me during the match. As far as sports go, I think I’d have to rank it along with basketball with how exciting it is. That is to say, very high. There’s not the constant stop and pauses that there are in football or the lengthy stretches of absolutely nothing like in baseball. It’s all fluid motions and fast paced, almost uninterrupted, play, and that appeals to my attention span deprived brain.

Yesterday I saw Spain and Chile playing and Spain was awesome, getting two goals one right after t’other. The first goal was impressive in the distance covered, though the goalie was conspicuously absent from the goal. The second one was more impressive, with a quick succession of neatly made passes resulting in a successful goal. Even to someone like me who’s extremely new to soccer, it was a beautiful thing.

So I’m enjoying the soccer so far. Not so much enjoying the fact that the United States is playing Ghana and I’m at work at the moment, but still, in general, digging the whole soccer scene and I think I’ll keep watching throughout.

Dylan Charles

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Customer Service

So I bought a Kindle this past Christmas Eve as a present for myself, at the $250 price. Not the $189 price that it is now (I am not bitter, I am NOT bitter).

I got it, it was awesome, I read a bunch of books on it.

And then it broke. I’m not sure HOW it broke. Knowing me, it’s most likely my fault. Regardless of who did what to whom or who stepped on the delicate piece of technology, the screen is all funky now.

So I sent Amazon an email and they wrote back saying, more or less, “Oof, give us a call.”

I punched my number into the little customer service thing, hit submit and within five seconds, Amazon called up. Ten seconds after THAT I was talking to a representative.

And after about fifteen minutes, most of which was spent waiting for my Kindle to charge because I fully believe in not being prepared, my helper dude said, “Ok, so we’re going to send you a replacement Kindle, it’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll send an email with instructions on returning the damaged Kindle.”

And bam, done. That’s it. Pain free. No insinuations that I’m a stupid user. No 6-8 week long waiting period while they wait for my broken Kindle and then send me the new one. Just…fifteen minutes of troubleshooting and I get what I want.

I’m STILL in shock.

So thank you Alex and thank you Amazon.

NOW, if only their digital books were a couple bucks cheaper, I’d be even happier.

Dylan Charles

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Daydreamer

I’ve published several novels, written two or three screenplays and have become so well known that it’s difficult to find a moment of privacy when I’m out and about.

You know, in my head.

I am constantly daydreaming, always flitting from one fantasy to the next. Which is not, in itself, a problem.The problem comes in when I don’t actually do any of the things that I’m so busy envisioning.

Part of the problem is that, with the constant repetition of the daydream, the project begins to lose the excitement and luster. Irritatingly, I begin to view the project as something that I’ve already completed. There’s no more excitement, no anticipation for the day when it’s done. The opposite is also true: where I begin to work and rework the project to death in my head until I’m so critical of it that I no longer even want to think about it, much less complete it.

This is something I’ve learned to put a stop to over the last few months, simply by charging on ahead with any project that I’m working on and not giving myself the time to dwell on it beforehand. I’m a little tired of the fictional me in my head getting all the glory.

Dylan Charles

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Secure in my Insecurity

I am no different from any other writer or creative type person in that I’m on the insecure side. Strangely, not so much about my writing. I think I’m fairly levelheaded with regard to how I view my stories and blog entries. I think I know what level they’re on, where I need to improve and where I succeed.

When I get criticism, usually through the comments section, I think I take it well, if it’s legitimate criticism. I don’t get bummed out for several days based on rejections or a negative comment. I think that’s one aspect of my life where my ego is very sturdy and not in a way that’s grotesque. I don’t bumble around all day thinking my awesomeness on the page is undisputed, for example. For the most part, I think my writer’s ego is fairly grounded.

I think a big part of artist insecurity comes from the fact that pretty much everyone who is creative and who puts their art out there for the world to see, becomes intrinsically tied to that work. That art, whether it’s writing or painting or sculpting, is an extension of that person and thus, an extension of how they’re viewed by the world and, oftentimes, the only way that they’re viewed by the world.

Any judgement of that work, good or bad, becomes a judgement of that person, right or wrong. And oftentimes it seems that, if a creative person asks, “Do you like (painting/poem/story)?” they’re asking “Do you like ME?”

It’s something that I’m glad I’ve avoided, for the most part. That I can still put some distance between what I make and who I am, partly because I still have trouble considering myself a writer at all. I’m a guy who writes, in my head, not a REAL writer.

Granted, this doesn’t address every other area of my life where I’m insecure, but uh…we’ll just move on now.

Dylan Charles

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News and Miscellaneous

Some news about the blog and writing in general.

  1. I’ve added a page that has a list of the places where folks can find my work around the internet. I’ll be updating that as more stories get published. Check it out now to see what’s there.
  2. A story of mine has been published over at Tales of the Zombie War called “For Carolyn”. I wrote it a year or so ago and I’m fond of it. So give it a read and check out the other stories on the site.
  3. I might have some other published story related news. Keep an eye here for more details.
  4. dylancharles.wordpress.com is now dylancharles.net, which I’m inordinately excited about. Easy to remember and easier to tweet, since it takes ten less characters. Excitement!

That’s it for news, for now.

Dylan Charles

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Scaring Myself

I’ve always been interested in looking at the types of horror that I write about, because I think it says a lot about the kind of person I am, about what makes me tick.

I have a tendency to steer clear of anything that’s spiritual. Ghosts do not scare me. Haunted houses scare me even less. If there’s one type of horror I stay away from, both as a reader and a writer, it’s the Haunted House trope. Beyond the fact that I don’t think ghosts are scary, the solution to a haunted house is so mind bendingly simple, that I lose all interest in following the trials and tribulations of the characters. Just move out of the goddamn house! You’ve got a problem, it stays tied to one geographical location, then MOVE. Problem solved.

(Small digression, favorite haunted house novel, The House Next Door, which basically obliterates all my complaints with the genre. Check it out.)

I also tend to stay away from the Classical Monsters tropes: no vampires, no werewolves, no mummies. There’s just very little that can be said about those monsters. They’ve become so embedded in our pop culture, that they’re no longer truly scary. And, lest you forget, horror is about scaring people. This seems to be something modern filmmakers have forgotten.

If I can think of a new angle for werewolves and vampires, then I’ll run with it. But for the most part, I think those guys have been thoroughly tapped out.

My own personal fiction focuses more on either madness or some Lovecraftian terror. By Lovecraftian, I don’t necessarily mean ancient Gods living beneath the ocean, but strange, metaphysical horrors that lurk around and under the shadows. That appeals to me on some level because there’s at least a vague potential for it being a real thing. Not to mean that I think these creatures and demons and the like do exist, but so little is known about the universe, that the notion of weird little pockets of unreality at least sounds plausible. And that’s what makes things scary to me, their real world plausibility.

And this follows with stories about madness as well. Insanity is a very real, tangible thing. I mean not for me. I’m sane.

Right?

Dylan Charles

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