We Got This

I live in a time when my generation, and my children’s generation, will never advance–because there’s just too many of the generation before us that are unwilling to step aside and allow us the world.

I live in a time when the Presidency and the Press is a circus. We got this, though. I honestly believe we got this. When the frustration that this shit is happening in our day and age begins to abate, we’ll come back strong.

We Got This.

Prehistoric Porn

We’ve all seen the Woman of Willendorf, right? Knowing everything you do about the nature of humanity in our time, what the hell makes you think people were any different 26000 B.C.E. It’s pornography; it’s a doll to remind some hunter far from home that back in the cave, a person like this, waits. It’s a reminder to the one that has no mate, that this is the ideal.

Anthropologists can say all the shit they want about it being a Goddess, worshiped and revered, but let’s be real, who makes handheld fondle-able dolls of their deities? Perhaps the act of sex was religion onto itself. There were chub-dolls and penis dolls too. Of course, when a penis is found carved from rock, it’s assumed to be a dildo–human nature is recognized dead to rights, but a female doll…one so fat? It must be a higher calling thing because Neandertals weren’t a bunch of Bro-Mags, their brains weren’t intricate enough to replicate fondle-dolls to take the place of the real thing.

It’s porn. Prehistoric porn.

 

Discontent

My editing schedule is clear enough; I’m just not sticking to it. Instead of doing a read-aloud pass of Suffocation, Monday through Thursday, I’ve been doing copyedits on the series bible, a task that occurs on Fridays. Why edit it at all? The series bible will be free to all visitors of the Femitokon patreon, so edits are a requirement. If there’s misspelled words, and bad grammar there, why would readers subscribe to reading the series?

Twitter weighs me down. Again.

When I first started on twitter I had hundreds of followers–most of them were yaoi readers, people that read my comics, or industry types I considered friends. I shut that Twitter down over three years ago and began again with a new one, last year. BL readers don’t care about what I’m writing now because there’s nothing to interest them. I tell myself this, though it’s cheating those readers by assuming they have no interests outside of yaoi/BL. Shame on me.

The twitter I have now is about link-sharing writerly-things. My real job requires an on-call meeting every morning. The producer doesn’t like trust the showrunner, and we all (the entire writing team and script team) must suffer for it. I spend these calls reading various writing articles on whatever interests me. If I like it, I share it on Twitter. People that find my shares interesting either RT, or add me to a list, or follow me. It’s cool. It’s easier than doing “my writing process 101” blog posts all the time. I follow some great online magazines on Twitter, other writers whose work interests me, and some close friends.

I know that Twitter is supposed to be about gaining a following but the thing is, I did the online brand thing when I was writing comics. Small publishers expected it (and needed it), and I hated it. I don’t like the person I am when I’m a Twitter handle or a blog-site. I think it stinks that agents and publishers look to sort of online presence as a condition to representation or publishing. I get it, though. Readers today are different. The author is as important as the what they’re writing.

I’d love to live in a world where my work speaks for itself, where my fiction is my brand–but if I’ve nothing out there, so who am I do desire anything?

Progress

I’m moving right along, as work dictates.

Scripting ran late this afternoon. I couldn’t get into reading aloud the Suffocation manuscript. This is the last phase of editing for me, and I’m dragging my feet. I used the time I had to make edits on the series bible; ensuring links works, grammar is up to snuff, etc. I cannot put that final-reading off tomorrow, must do it–and hit the elliptical machine because I can’t ignore my health either.

Gratuitous cat photo – this is Lee Sama’s Bitch, What Do You Want? face.

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