Nothing much, really

Nothing much to say as of late. I have had a few disturbing dreams, but nothing to even remember, let alone write down.

I guess I started this blog to start my writing again. Ever since I was little I have had a sort of love affair with books. I can even recall when I was 4 or 5 and getting upset when a Sesame Street book was left on the floor for someone to step on and break the binding on. As a preteen I would check out books from the library based on the smell of the ink, I mean, yeah, I would read some of it, but I loved books and the older, the more I loved them.

I would say that my need to write might be based on my feelings about books. I wanted to be a part of that world in just another way. I would think about stories and would day dream about the adventures that person would have. I even came up with a pseudonym for myself so I could get some privacy as a famous author. Wolfric Wild. That is the only one I can remember and I created it during a time when I was obsessed with werewolves. I think I was 8.

So, this blog is helping a little bit. I can see myself writing a little again. I just get so frustrated because I know what a good book sounds like, I can't do it. Sometimes I have flashes of inspiration and it looks pretty good in print, but it is nothing compared to the great books. So I ask myself: Could I feel satisfied as a mediocre, even pulp, published author? Or, should I better leave it undone and be better off wondering what could have been?

I guess the only way to know is to forge on and see if I have the chops. I hope the Internet society can forgive me if I don't publish it on my blog. That seems taking it a little far. Maybe once I feel pretty good about a work and I am as finished as I will be with it...

Best Dream Ever (or at least for a while...)

So last night I had a great dream. I mean, yeah, it was kind of confused since at first I was on the lawn of my Jr. High School in the middle of America (well, within driving distance of the middle of North America) and then at the end of the lawn there was a lake/ocean. But other than those wierd little things, it was awesome.

So yeah, there were zombies. Not like the whole undead zombies but the modern, super-flu, infection zombies with crazy red eyes, so you know, it was scientific and possible. But who cares, I was made to kill zombies. And beside that, I had a sword. Yeah, a sword. Not as random as a shotgun but just as deadly. And since they are all sick and overheated (from a raging fever that makes them insane) their bodies tissues, mostly the epithelial and connective tissues, will start to degrade, thereby making it waaaaaaaaaaay easier to cut their heads off. Awesome, I know.

Plus we (I say we because there was people for me to save, of course) we escaping to a safe island in the lake/ocean. Turns out the island is a real place, Mackinac Island. Wierd, huh? You know what else is wierd? They don't allow cars on that island. Like, in real life. Only horses and buggies and shit. Crazy. Maybe zombies hate horses. Or buggies.

Sooooooooooooooo, now you know. If you are ever being chased by crazed, science zombies, go to Mackinac Island. Or my house. Or get a horse. But really, come to my house, I got the cure for what ails 'em.

damn zombies...