Tag: writing

Finally Settling In My Own Mind This Potential Zendaya Thing

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

Now, let me be clear — I don’t think I ran into Zendaya a strip club on a very listless Monday afternoon. But, just for my sanity, I have had to kind of game out how it would be possible if that was the case.

And here’s what I have — if she was there, it was for a role, or potential future role she was thinking about. And she saw me as nothing more than an extra. That’s it. It just so happened that a person with a novel ran into her while she was pretending to be a stripper.

But I still refuse to believe it was her, even though the young woman I sat next to — and saw on stage — sure did, in hindsight, look a whole of a hell like her.

Anora & My Novel

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

My novel features a pretty big chunk of scenes that involve stripping and that has made some early readers blanch. This has upset me to the point that I’ve decided to go through and rewrite big portions of the novel to make it a bit less spicy.

But just having stripping in the novel to begin with will turn some people off, obviously. And, yet, I feel a little bit better that a stripper movie, Anora, has become popular. It makes me feel maybe it’s possible for me to have stripping in the novel and people still be willing to read it.

I am only slowly beginning to get out of my doldrums when it comes to writing a novel in the first place. I just have to believe in myself. I have to accept that even if I write the novel I want and it’s a success, I’m just not going to get the context for success that I have hoped for.

I can feel myself slowly — slowly — begin to feel better about working on a novel, any novel. I think I’m also going to work on the scifi novel that I have rolling around in my head, just so I can have a back up.

I keep saying that, then don’t do anything.

Slouching Towards Dystopia

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

It seems possible that we’re just going to collectively give up and tune out Trump’s hellscape this time. I know I definitely feel like doing that myself. I feel like just shrugging and working on something, anything than anything that will force me to dwell on Trump.

Of course, the danger is that the ship will finally sink and the cold waters of tyranny will come and get ME.

I don’t know what to tell you, though. It’s time for me to stop staring out into space and actually do something. I continue to dwell on leaning into the scifi element of a new version of the novel just to raise the stakes, if nothing else.

I Spoke Too Soon

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

Traffic on this site — that I can see, at least — has gone to near zero just as fast as it spiked. I don’t mind, too much. This site has always been more about writing longer things out of habit than anything else.

Yeah, I get it.

So, lulz, I don’t mind if no one reads this blog at all.

Though, as I’ve said before, I have a feeling a lot goes on with this blog that I can’t see for some reason. So, it could be that there continues to be a lot of people reading this blog and I just don’t know about it.

Whatever. I really need to stop moping so much and start to get back to working on my novel. I’ve really felt out of sorts the last few months and I just can’t be in neutral forever.

I have to do something, anything creative. I have a sold novel or two in me, I just know it.

Yours Truly According To ChatGPT

Week One Into Trumplandia Redux: This Sucks

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I still can’t focus. It’s been just about a week since Trump won and I don’t quite know what to do with myself. What I should be doing is working on the newest version of my novel, but, no I’m writing aimless blog posts and listening to Charlotte Gainsbourg.

It’s just really difficult to focus for some reason. I’m struggling to do anything other than just stare out into space at the moment — no matter what I’m doing. But I do have a few really good novel ideas in my mind that I need to work on.

I think tomorrow — the actual one week anniversary of this shitshow — I’m going to buckle down and start to do some creative work. I think some of my inability to do anything comes from a lot of abstract fears — I just don’t know how bad things are going to get with Trump.

As such, I’m spaced out.

My fear is, of course, that things are going to get just as bad as I’ve been ranting about for years now and, before you know it, Trump is going to be using Red state National Guard units on Blue states and I’ll be on the lamb because my life will be at risk.

I *hope* things don’t get that bad, but you never know. And that’s the fear — that things *will* get that bad. Then what am I going to do? Those are some dark possibilities that I struggle to figure out the endgame to.

Moody Blues

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I continue to just tune out from the news. It’s just not worth it. And if I was engaged I would just even more depressed than I already am. I’m not yet medication-strength depressed, but I fear I’m getting there.

And, yet, because I know the specific source of my depression, I think I can avoid slumping into a full-bore clinical depression because I live in a fascist state now.

The biggest issue is that I know that even if I wrap up a really good novel of some sort in about a year, I will be so old that I’ll be a “success” just as a lot of other “normal” people are thinking about retirement.

That sucks and kind of puts a damper on my interest in much of anything going forward. But there remains a chance that Something Big might happen that will throw my life up in the air and I’ll be rushing North as the country collapses into chaos.

Hopefully, of course, that won’t happen — but it could.

I’ve been listening to “Cigarettes After Sex” a lot and it’s the exact band for this moment in the nation’s history. I have been listening to the group’s music all the way through on Spotify and it makes me feel a lot better.

And, yet, I have to continue to acknowledge to myself that this is who we are — a majority of Americans want a fascist state. I don’t quite know what to tell you about that one.

Once More Unto The Breach (Again)

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

The numbers are not on my side. I live in poverty, I’m bonkers and I’m old-ish. So, even if something happened out of the blue to make me some sort of a “success” it would all happen in the context of it happening when most people are thinking of retirement.

And, yet, you have to have hope. You have to have something to think about when you’re not thinking about how the only people who seem to read your blog are haters, stalkers, or FBI agents about to push you out a window once Trump is in office (sigh.) (I’m aware there’s at least one actual nice person who reads this blog on a regular basis, but that’s the exception, I fear.)

You have to believe, you know? You have to believe in something, anything to keep you going.

So, once I finally shake off my existential dread that I’ve been feeling the last few weeks, I’m going to throw myself back into writing at least one novel.

Locked In Creative Neutral For The Next Little Bit

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

Well, I’ve finally reached total creative lockup when it comes to doing anything of note while I wait to find out who will be the next POTUS. All I can do is just stare out into space and wait.

It sucks.

My fear is, of course, that we won’t know who the president is going to be for months and THAT will keep me in my current state. Or we know that Harris has won, but Trump flips out and somehow manages to provoke the Proud Boys into doing significant political violence around the country while we lurch towards Certification Day.

Anyway, I have vowed to myself to start working on my novel(s) again on Wednesday morning. I can’t be in neutral mentally, emotionally and creatively for the months it might take to figure out who POTUS is going to be.

Just About Time To Get Back To Work On The Novel

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I don’t quite know when it’s going to happen, but very soon, I’m going to throw myself back into working on the novel. And it might not just be the passion project. It might be the other novel(s) I have rolling around in my mind.

I don’t know when it will happen, but it will be soon.

I’m beginning to grow restless and I need to be productive. It’s only because of a very specific set of circumstances that I have this particular situation in my life and when things change — as they inevitably will — I would prefer not to look back with regret.

I may start work on the novel tomorrow.

Now, of course, there is the looming election I have to deal with. I hope — hope — that no matter who wins that I won’t have to deal with some disruption in my life that forces me to end my work on the novel. I don’t think that is going to happen, but I am worried that something will.

I could be a domestic political refugee before it’s over with, the way things are going. But let’s hope not.