Monday, April 28, 2008

upper class twitter of the year

Three days left to goof off before May comes and the ‘secret project’ stirs from its resting place in my mind to blaze the blank pages with its million dollar baby juices . . .

Not sure if I’m dreading it or looking forward to it.

It’s kind of like NaNoWriMo, which I was chomping at before it started, but once it began it was a real grind (yes even for this plodding robotic writing machine). Of course working full time and writing full time all the time is a killer of your time and mind.

Here endeth the writing update . . .


So, to relieve the writing spurt urges I get when at work, I got myself a Twitter account today.

I blame the evil mirror universe goatee wearing - Wesley “the bone” Crusher - for leading me there. Shame on you.

Um, if you know what Twitter is you are already lost - if you don’t know please don’t go to and find out - you will become lost.

It’s hard to sound intelligent in 160 characters or less - the key I think to what twitter is all about. Oh, and plus you get some stats which read ‘followers’. What world-domina . . . er, self-respecting writer doesn’t like to see a stat like that?

If you really, really, really, really care - I think you can find me over there by searching for Paul Darcy.

Beware though, my twitterings can lead to insanity and drooling from the mouth while in public. So, to avoid having to run your hand across your mouth every minute while outdoors or in public places - please avoid me at twitter at all costs.

Four people have already succumbed to my inanities. If this keeps up I may have five before I turn sixty . . .

*wonders if anybody will fall for his obvious reverse psychology and cry for attention?*

Monday, April 21, 2008

blog etiquette

Blogging is hard work, despite what your mother told you . . .

I’ve compiled a small list of blog does and doo does - a blog etiquette if you like.


1) never let your cat blog for you.

2) never blog drunk.

3) never blog stone cold sober.

4) never mention people by name or identify them by their facial scars.

5) never reveal huge mega-conglomerate secrets.

6) do limit your blog post to 1000 words or less.

7) do blog in only one language.

8) do be sure to realize that children may be reading it, even if they are over 19 years of age.

9) do allow readers to comment so they can feel that their life has some greater purpose.

10) do be regular.

And that is it . . .

. . . or, in other words - got nothing.


Non blog related news - in one and a half weeks I will be starting the official production of the “Secret Writing Project”.

So, the rest of this April I am naming research month.

Wish me luck and happy fact hunting. Oh, and I’ve been drinking extra milk to strengthen my funny bone . . .

. . . What do you mean it’s not working?

Friday, April 18, 2008

Mr. Lofty

I’ve spent the last few days seeing my inner psy-coach-ologist - but before you run for the hills screaming, I’ll take a moment and reveal just what took place.


Mr. Lofty: What the hell is wrong with you, you simpering git?

Me: Huh, what do you mean?

Mr. Lofty: You espouse all the outward signs of a writer, yet your production is far from that of somebody who is actually serious.

Me: But I wrote a novel last year.

Mr. Lofty: *sigh* Do you hear yourself. Last year. What year is it now?

Me: Um, well that would be this year, 2008.

Mr. Lofty: And is that novel, from last year, anywhere near ready to be published?

Me: Well, I have a plan—

Mr. Lofty: — Piss on your plans! Just plain get to work. Stop waffling and get producing.

Me: You mean, no more waffles for Sunday breakfast?

Mr. Lofty: Don’t try to twist this inner monologue into something which further distracts you from your goals. You can’t evade me that easily.

Me: So, it wasn’t funny?

Mr. Lofty: No.

Me: So, what should I do then?

Mr. Lofty: Better. You’ve skipped right past admitting there is a problem and shot straight to getting my help. All may not be lost.

Me: So regale me with your wisdom them.

Mr. Lofty: Don’t get smart with me using words you have to look up to make sure you used them correctly. If I was not part of your ID all you would do is play video games and watch TV. Don’t deny it.

Me: Hey, that’s not . . . Okay, maybe you have a point there.

Mr. Lofty: To get back on track I want three specific goals with completion dates written down. And, I will be there lurking in your mind, waiting to administer the Vulcan death grip if you fail.

Me: Now, who is getting silly?

Mr. Lofty: Well, it got you to listen and reflect upon my words, didn’t it?

Me: Okay, you got me there.

*long silence*

Me: So, are we done or something?

Mr. Lofty: No. I’m merely waiting. I can open the door, but only you can walk through it.

Me: Hey, didn’t you just steal that line from Star Trek, the one where Wesley dumps Star Fleet and goes off —

Mr. Lofty: — Stop! Concentrate. Three writing goals and completion dates. Now!

*brain smoking moment*

Me: Okay. I have them. *grin*

*another silence*

Me: So, that’s it then? That was pretty painless.

Mr. Lofty: *super-sized sigh* I don’t’ need to spell it out do I?

Me: Please don’t - spelling is not one of your strong points. But I think I know what you want.

Mr. Lofty: And that is?

Me: To go public and actually post my three writing goals and deadlines on this blog?

*sudden stomach-churning moment of panic*

Mr. Lofty: We have a winner!

*how to get out of this one? Think-think-think*

Me: Um, maybe I should give this more time—

Mr. Lofty: — NO! Post it now and don’t be such a gorramn wimp about it.

Me: Do I have to?

Mr. Lofty: No you don’t, but if you don’t then you will be publicly broadcasting your losershipness.

Me: That’s not a word.

Mr. Lofty: True - but you know what it means so I got my point across.

Me: Um, well. Maybe just one then?

Mr. Lofty: Suit yourself. Hold on a moment while I tie up my boots . . .

*those are big, sharp, pointy boots*

Me: Okay, okay. Here they are.


Me: What if I don’t make these three writing goals?

Mr. Lofty: Then I win and will forever, at every opprotunity, call you “Loser” in a Jim Carey voice for added impact and annoyance.

Me: That’s a pretty stiff penalty.

Mr. Lofty: It’s for your own good. Now write them down.

Me: For all to see?

*moment of stark terror*

Mr. Lofty: Yes. Now.

Me: All to see? You realize that Joss Whedon, or Wil Wheaton, or Neil Gaiman, or my mother can just look at these goals and challenge me on them once the due date is past?

Mr. Lofty: That is the idea.

Me: What if I just delete the post in future.

Mr. Lofty: “Leeooos—

Me: Okay, okay, I get it.

*deep inner breath*

Me: First one. At the end of May this year 2008, I will have finished my secret project phase one and be proud and ready to hand it off.

*not so bad since nobody knows what it is . . . hee hee*

Mr. Lofty: The next two better improve or I may ask for and extra one.

Me: Not fair.

Mr. Lofty: Don’t bring up that stale “it’s not fair” crap ever again.

Me: Okay, that’s fair . . .

*this next one is going to be tough - here goes*

Me: Second one. My novel will be finished and in final draft form by April of 2009 ready for publication.

Mr. Lofty: And what year is it now?

Me: Hey, cut me some slack. You think I’m Piers Anthony or something?

Mr. Lofty: You want me to answer that?

Me: Um, no.

*one more and he will bugger off so I can get back to my computer game*

Mr. Lofty: I heard that.

*red faced, oops forgot her is in here with me*

Me: Um, well okay then. Number three. My movie script will be completed and in the best shape for sale by July 2009.

Mr. Lofty: Good. Now I expect progress reports every Monday and snippets of work in progress from time to time.

Me: But—

Mr. Lofty: — I’m the master here now. And now that you have the goals clearly defined and dates assigned there is not turning back. “Leeo—

Me: I get it.

*crap. Gotta skip the computer game and get to work.*


And so, as you can see, I’ve gotten myself in one hell of a mess. The only thing to do is write my way out of it.

So to recap with exact dates for reference.

1) Secret Project Phase One ready for handoff May 31st 2008.
2) Current working novel (Typhoon Rising) final draft and published by April 30th 2009.
3) My movie script will be in saleable form June 30th 2009.

Three dates to live or die for. And I don’t want to die . . .

. . . but most importantly I don’t want to hear Jim Carey in my head for the rest of my life.

Monday, April 14, 2008

rat scratch fever

not to belittle Ted Nugent (very cool album cover though), but our little male rats are outdoing themselves in the dominance game and giving any feline scuffle a run for its money.

Finding bleeding, half-dead rats in your cage in the morning is not a fun time. It would seem our two new pets have each grown a pair, so to speak, and the result is a battle to the death to see who will rule the nest.

Two rats enter, one rat leaves . . .

Or something.

So, for the last several days we only put them in together for a limited supervised time so they don’t off each other.

Very annoying to say the least.

Still, keeping them separate seems the only solution. Oh, and Feather, the original rat is getting a kick out of his hormonal pals and generally stays out of their way - except for sleepy time (80 % of a rat’s life it seems anyhow) when they are content to squash each other into a heap of rat limbs and hair. Feather is getting on in rat years and not up to these foolish games anymore and I can relate.

I’m hoping that this excess aggressiveness wears thin in a couple of weeks or less after they grow up a bit more.

But, looking toward the human animal kingdom for examples - I’m not so sure if it ever really wears off.


Oh, and this week is the last of the crazy time around the homestead, so next week should see me getting a little more practice in on my word smithing.

Friday, April 11, 2008

the hardest part

has got to be the waiting, but it is a tinge frightening at the same time.

I mean even though time for me (this excludes minute gravitational differences) is constant it can appear to drag (like when I’m at work) or fly (when I’m at play) or stall (like waiting to transition to work life part two).

What if I finally do escape only to sit at home stifled and staring at the walls? I mean that is the destination I am heading in, not the staring part but the at home part . . .

But if it’s the journey, then do I really want to arrive? The trick I believe is to make the endpoints only a part of the connect the dots picture of your life. Well, the journey to date has been far too much Midgewater Marsh and not enough Rivendell if you get my drift.

Still I have big plans for the short years ahead barring unfortunate events and will continue to develop loftier and cooler goals when those ones are met and/or exceeded.

It is said you should always have goals in mind anyhow, so you know where you are heading at any given point in time. And these can change, but change too often and you will be drifting instead of sailing, or something.

Anyhow, here are a few of mine.

1) Get my Post Apocalyptic novel published and available in printed form. I give myself until next August to get this done. Yup, you heard right. Of course it will be self-published, but still . . .

2) I want to get me one of those new Mustang GT cars as my retirement wheels . . .

3) I want to rewrite and finish my script and hand it off to somebody who can appreciate reading it over and maybe even take it to the next level.

4) Actually, all I really want to do is sing . . . Okay, scrap this one!

5) I want to wake up in the morning with a smile instead of a grimace.

Things are progressing nicely, but slowly.

As Tom Petty wails,

- the waiting is the hardest part.

Monday, April 07, 2008

o something

Oh, today’s blog post title refers to an obscure, but very funny (in my mind), line from a long gone sitcom. Let me explain briefly and you should get the show reference - Christina Applegate when asked “how do you spell off?”

Well, my life is sort of turmoily these days, but I’ve decided to try the ole - write-every-morning-thing - again and attempt to get back into the habit of it.

I mean, how can I call myself a writer if, well, I never write.

And I have added incentive now since I’ve entered into a challenge with somebody else (another crazy writer) to see who can get their first novel published first.

I want to win, you know, so I can strut about in his presence knowing who is the alpha writer in the pack . . .

Yeah, if you know me you know that ain’t true.

I’m taking the practical dogged approach to this. From June until November of this year I am editing the H out of my novel from last NaNoWriMo and then I’ll be writing another one this November - rinse and repeat.

Add in the insanity which is ScriptORaMo, or whatever it is called in April (not participating this year but will next year), and I should have my work cut out for me.

It is all necessary because before I know it I’ll be self employed . . .

A nice way of saying without a job and sitting at home hoping somebody will pay me for the work I think is worth doing.

And I have in the works (outside of writing) four very cool and fun activities planned over the next two years. Three are short trips and one is big including the whole family and even some friends. Since this is all in the planning stages I’ll leave off any details.

In fact you won’t know what they are or when they have happened until after the fact. I will be sure to blog about these fun times though after they happen.

And I have a promise to keep. My first signed published novel is intended for a certain person and it may be possible to hand it over to that person in person if I get it done on time. Talk about incentive there.

I can picture it now . . .

. . . ‘Um, well you see. You were to be the recipient of my first signed copy of my first published novel - but, um, since I am a lazy slacker who only dreams of becoming an author, um, you will have to take this signed napkin in lue of . . .


Oh, and you may have noticed that it is Monday and I have written a post.

Another “thing” I wish to keep up this year since “others” you know who you are Joe . . . have slacked off in the blog department.

I mean, there really are people out there who enjoy drinking coffee and reading other’s thoughts before buckling down to their mind-numbing cubicle hell-slave tedious inconsequential soul-sucking job activities . . .

Hell, I even read my own . . .

Well, not really.

I do write my own though - well at least when the gerbil writomatic wheel is on the fritz . . .