I don't recall the last time I was in a job that bored me so quickly. Sure, the days seem to float by faster than any other job I've had before, but when taking things day-by-day, they all seem to have this slow pace about them that's driving me nuts.
I honestly dislike having absolutely nothing to do for several hours and not be allowed to just sleep said hours away. I try to write stuff for Kanaverse or for Darkness & Stars (finally on Chapter 24, mind you!) when my required work is done and I settle into a restful state, but that only gets me through so many hours. Eventually, my mind tends to latch on to other things to keep it occupied, not the least of which is randomly reading articles on Wikipedia. For the time being, my employer's unwillingness to open up the chance for writers to go home once they've fulfilled their quota irks me a little, but it is something I can deal with. If nothing else, the long hours of nothingness tend to make me think about my own habits.
I've realized that I tend to write my best fiction at certain times of the day, but I get my most creative during those precious hours before I go to sleep and for the first few hours or so after lunch. Odd, that.
In other news, I've been reading up on my Kindred of the East. It has given me an interesting idea to work with, but I'm not entirely sure how far I can take the concept. It does strike me as a bit odd that no vampire-themed fiction has come into the market that takes the concept of a vampire and gives it a thoroughly Chinese or Japanese (or any other Asian country, for that matter) spin. I think I ought to give it a kick.
To close this, a video from YouTube:
And though I had slain a thousand foes less one,
The thousandth knife found my liver;
The thousandth enemy said to me,
'Now you shall die,
Now none shall know.'
And the fool, looking down, believed this,
Not seeing, above his shoulders, the naked stars,
Each one remembering.
--John M. Ford, The Final Reflection
The thousandth knife found my liver;
The thousandth enemy said to me,
'Now you shall die,
Now none shall know.'
And the fool, looking down, believed this,
Not seeing, above his shoulders, the naked stars,
Each one remembering.
--John M. Ford, The Final Reflection
The Asylum Director
- VIIIofSwords
- "The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn't require any." - Russel Baker
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment