I hate making these lists. There is much argh to go around. It drives me nuts trying to think of five simple things to talk about. I have a very dense life. You’d think there would be some subatomic explosion behind my eyes with the chance to list five random things. Instead, there is a great room of nothingness, like an existential movie about space travel.
- We’ve been watching Penny Dreadful on Netflix this last week. What a messed up show, and I write about monsters for a living. This show doesn’t pull any punches with its horror elements. You’re constantly exposed to blood, bile, and entrails. You’re locked in an industrial Victorian-era London with grimy shadows everywhere, and echoing coughs of consumption. I never thought I would say this, but there is too much horror. You’re given no sunlight. No positive energy. No comic relief. The show is a masterpiece, except you are disgusted by its honesty. It was almost like the medium was trying to forget about itself too much, like television is trying to ignore that we get to see the death up close just like the characters.
- I wrote a piece about trying to find the answer to my depression last week. I called it No Face. It was a sort of spontaneous write. I really just wanted to talk about a meditative technique I’m using to keep my depression controlled, but not cured. In my essay, I of course go very dire and share that I think my depression has no cure. The only thing I can do is try to focus on what I have control over, and accept the chaos inside my soul. It felt good to write. You can read it HERE.
- I think one thing that draws me to writing is the urge to want to find the perfect sentence. The one line that is left undisputed in the great hall of language. I want the one line that’ll be sent to aliens half-a-cosmos away. I think what is even more crazy about the perfect sentence is I might not even realize how great it is or anything. The audience gets to decide. The mystery over what your words will really do once they enter the world is one of the ways I feel alive.
- I am really amazed by how children’s shows manage to discuss horrible themes and tragedies. My twins love the movie Hotel Transylvania 2, which is ridiculously relevant because it is about a boy who has heritage from two cultures, and each tries to take ownership of him with complete disregard to his feelings. If you took away the cartoon monsters and fantasy setting, you would see a tale about racial or cultural strife. You would get a story about how an individual is crushed by two sections of society. I guess the purpose of children’s stories have always been to make pain more palatable. The witch in the woods with a smile on her face.
- I’ve been having cursed dreams recently. They take place in modern settings like grocery stores and streets. Something always seems odd about them though. The streetlights look stretched and silent, like they were oil paintings in an art gallery. Nothing looks real, not even the shadows. When I dream of the grocery store, the store is completely dark. The coolers and fridges are the only things that keep their lights. They flicker, then go on and off. Eventually, they all dim and I’m left with just one square of white light in a dark warehouse. There is something in the blackness around me. Something is hunting me there, but I don’t know what.
Thank you everyone for reading and supporting me. Remember my books are on sale for 2 for $20 at my store. I pay shipping as well. Have a great week.