Well, that was all well and good, and there will be time and cause later to continue yesterday’s happy train of thoughts, but I’m running with this whole cataclysm thing and gonna make spilled milkshakes out of spilled milk, or something like that.
I’m sure this is Phase 12 of the 189 phases I’ll eventually go through, dealing with the fact that the center of my known universe has imploded, but Phase 12 is fun in that it’s rife with possibility and optimism and that whole “Change can be for the good! Huzzah! Go Team!” type of Tony Robbins-isms. I think Phase 18 is “I’ll never find happiness in all the long days of my meaningless life”; Phase 53 is something like “You know, I’m never felt such a close association with Depeche Mode before…”; Phase 87 goes a little bit like, “Yes, going out 6 nights a week and pummeling my liver into submission is both a healthy and economically viable option to dealing with life events.”
But for now, Phase 12, and Phase 12 is good. In Phase 12 (or P12, as we say in the biz), you look at the metaphorical heap of crap you’ve been putting off for a long time and decide to jump into it like the big pile of metaphorical leaves that it is. Just make sure, if you’re ever in P12, to keep the jumping itself metaphorical, or you could land ass-first in something sticky. And that’s never ever fun.
So my personal P12 is gonna go a bit somethin’ somethin’ like this. I had started to take all of my entries and through them into Microsoft Word, since I can never be bothered to save them in the first place, which may be a problem, but this is P12, and as such, there are no problems, merely obstacles to be overcome. Like using passive verbs. Damnit. Anyways. After getting through all of the January articles, and realizing that that month alone produced 55 pages of 12-point Times New Roman text, I decided to tone down that endeavor, lest the ensuing book be called “Wading in War and Peace”.
So, instead, I in the interim have come up with what I hope is a more manageable, though still quite large, task. I’m going to try and take what I feel are the best of certain types of writing and combine those into what I hope will be 25-30 page mini-books. These won’t be for sale, per say, though they will sell me. Right now, I’ve got three categories I’m working around:
So here’s where y’all come in---feel free to suggest articles you feel are both applicable and non-sucky. I know what I like (see my “Best Of” page for samples), but if you’ve seen my wardrobe, you know my taste accounts for almost nothing. In addition, I’m gonna be humbly asking for some editing help---mostly in terms of spell-checking, verb agreement, making sure sentences don’t end in the word “the”…that sort of thing. I’m not going to be rewriting any of it, except to fix mistakes such as this. You won’t have to edit an entire 30-page manuscript…just an article or three, if you’re so inclined.
I’ll still be writing here a bit, but not daily. The P12 dictates that my energy gets focused in other directions. Directions I’ve been hesitant to fully invest in. I can see the path, but like Samwise on the edge of the Shire, I’m afraid to take that further step away from home. Then again, home isn’t what it used to be, so maybe it’s already stepped away from me.
In the end, I’ll be writing, as always, when the notion grabs hold, but these mini-books need to get done. I’m surer about that now than ever before. And in the end, I’ll have ready-made resumes, whether they be for “Rolling Stone” or “YM” or “Madame’s Mary’s Magazine of Pain”. Or just some PDFs I can email if you like your blogs like your OJ: concentrated and pulpy.
So, in short, I need your help. I ain’t too proud to beg. You’ve helped me all along, in that you’ve read and commented and validated what it is I love to do. And I can do these projects alone, but I’d rather not, all things being equal. So suggest an article, offer to edit one, link me on your blog, send me a virtual bowl of Cocoa Puffs, offer to be my sugar mama…any and all will be appreciated.
Ring in the new, sayeth P12. And acknowledging that need for help is a good way to ring out the hold. Hardly the be all and end all. But a start, nonetheless.
Posted by Ryan McGee at December 30, 2003 11:36 AM