Wine & Writing
As far as talent, I’d like to boast that I have good role models. Raymond Carver, Charles Bukowski, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Truman Capote, etc. However, their habits aren’t the best to emulate. Now that my first episode pitch is complete, I’m focusing on my fiction. In the past few hours, I’ve smoked a whole pack of cigarettes and drank an entire bottle of wine while sitting in front of my computer, writing the second draft to a short story that I wrote in one of my notebooks a few days ago. The writing is going well and I’d like to continue, but I haven’t slept yet, and I have to be at work at nine o’clock tonight. The three additional bottles of wine will have to wait, because I’m going to need some sleep before work. As far as smokes, I’ll have to wait until my next paycheck, just like everything else that requires my money.
Every time I get into a mode of writing, something pulls me away. Like work, for example. One of the many reasons I quit my last job was so that I could write day in and day out. An unwise choice on my part, because soon after, I realized that I had no money for smokes and booze. What a ridiculous state of mind I was in at that time.
I’ve never read any blogs before. And when I started this blog, I really had no idea what the hell to do. Sure I knew the point of a blog, or rather, the accepted purpose of a blog. That is, to talk about yourself with the expectation that somebody, somewhere else in the world, would give a shit for some arbitrary reason. I feel like I’m blogging too much, almost three times a day it’s been. Yet, I’m trying to make this blog known, and I’ve noticed that the more posts I make, the more people visit this blog, and I guess that’s a good thing. So I’ll keep posting random shit that I find to be interesting, if only to myself, and keep watching that line graph of blog visitors rise. Maybe somebody, somewhere in the world, will find all of this jargon interesting.