Early morning thoughts on a holiday monday

The day I want you to shoot me and plant me six feet under is the day I begin failing to see the logic behind doing stupid shit.

I’m constantly enjoying life because of the stupid shit. It’s the stupid shit that makes me grin when I’m all alone.

I was up at 3:15 to do a sunrise scooter ride with some friends up to the top of Mount Cypress, so we’d see the sunrise and have a nice early summer morning ride.

It’s 8:10 am and I’ve just smoked up. I’ve been up for five hours now, have ridden 80 klicks on my scoot, had coffee on a mountaintop, saw a black bear, saw my first grouse bird, did some time exposures of the city splayed below the mountain, and now I’ve edited two pieces and I’ve just begun watching Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas.

Who says slackers can’t be productive, huh?

The movie’s hard for me, because although I like a few parts of it, it largely seems a charicature of the book. I can’t for the life of me figure out why the movie grates me like it does. Gilliam’s a genius. I adore Johnny Depp. Benicio Del Toro’s always impeccable, and Hunter Thompson? Where do I begin?

So, what’s not to like? Something. It’s too shallow to match that book. The book’s laden with drug-induced antics, but it has some tragicomic things to say about the American dream, too. There’s a reason it will stand the test of time as one of the greatest American classics of last century -- because it’s a great book.

So, watching the movie has me thinking about true writing, great writing, and how the reason so few great books translate well to screen is because it doesn’t matter how great you are at setting scenes, you can’t begin to capture the feel and the mood conjured by an author really in touch with the world around them.

That said, when my article was slammed last week, the main criticism was that I was telling too much and not showing enough. He liked my transition, wording, yada yada, but I wasn’t “showing” the details.

And he was absolutely right. It’s really awesome as a writer to get honest, straightforward criticism. Know why? No one fucking gives it to you.

Everyone always fawns and gasps at your brilliance, but no one sits there and says, “Well, weak points...” unless we beg for it. I’d love to get more honest feedback that incorporates my shortcomings. I want to get better and better at this until the day I die. So I need to know where I’m going wrong.

Now I’m writing something for my other site where I’m required to tell the whole story through only four of the five senses. The sense lacking? Sight. Changes the game tremendously.

The challenge really has me excited from an art standpoint. It’s a big challenge, trying to pull this off, because I’ve absolutely not been “showing” things in my writing. I’m very one-dimensional that way -- now.

But I used to be far more in touch with that ability. I wrote some pretty gripping fiction back in ‘97-’99, when I had grand designs about writing a novel. Writer’s block hit, and I guess when the creativity came back, the awareness of the senses was still out to lunch.

Anyhow... Hunter Thompson.

I’m writing something new on Hunter. When it comes to writing influences, he’s at the top of the list, and not the drug-addled Thompson (which I also love and clearly have been influenced greatly by) but the astute and passionate political observer he was. When it comes to political observations in the 20th century, Thompson was at the pinnacle.

My piece on him is “in progress,” which is to say it’s stagnating at a breaking point, but something I expect to overcome -- especially if I get high enough, considering the inspiration. But the piece is about his impact on me as a writer, and why, because of him, I fear ever getting successful.

It’s a very selfish piece, very self-indulgent, but then, it’s conveniently my blog. Love how that works.

So, this is my stupid morning on a stupid day filled with stupidity. God bless it.

Oh, so it’s 8:23 now. That gives you a little understanding why my pieces are so rambling and train-of-though-ish. I usually just have a massive brain fart and I type fast, and PRESTO. Instant post! It’d be awesome if I ever started putting some thought into these things, but that might require real work.

God forbid. Happy Monday, kids.