So, day two and I’m still, mostly, keeping to myself. I had a brilliant chance for an Internet explosion with car troubles, but, Huzzah for a shut mouth. (and minimal cussing)
So far so good, sure, I didn’t have much spare time but a start is a start.
So, a lot has happened since the last post. My last secret project is on hold for a new secret project. I am very honored to be considered for this one, it’s pretty fantastic, and pretty HUGE. (There are no official details, which is why it’s secret)
Ten days ago I posted a picture of the moleskine that I was using for notes.
Moleskines make a writer a ‘real’ writer, right? RIGHT? The problem with those notebooks is the page count and binding. They are beautiful books but are slightly difficult and uncomfortable to scribble in when I am less interested in margins than I am in finish my thought.
So, I decided to give FIELD NOTES a go.
At 48 pages it lays flat with ease so I can write edge to edge as needed. (this is just as important as it sounds, trust me) I expect it will be less cumbersome when transferring notes. I’m a bit leary of writing without a flat surface so that may be a problem that I will cross eventually.
In the meantime this wretched semester is nearly an end, it’s made for a rough summer and I’ll be very glad when I’m driving home from my final. I’ve also picked up a copy of Harvey Pekar’s final work, NOT THE JERUSALEM MY PARENTS PROMISED ME, I am excited to crack into it. Eight more days, then I can summer!
First, let me blow the dust off this old thing. I had high hopes to use this blog more frequently than I have, but when school became much more intense I had little time for ramblings. I still have two and a half weeks before the summer semester convenes and I have been busier than I would prefer.
The one project I wish was taking the majority of my time has been suffering as well. I need to learn focus (and moderation). The project itself I’d rather not go into, yet, but I will say I have been learning a lot about my family, and about WW2. It has been exhilarating walking though the history that beats within my own veins.
Also, and unrelated, I am nearly finished with the great 2012 rewatch of TNG (one of my favorite annual events, Nemesis is playing while I write this).
I’ve also started a new tumblr, mindspacedumphole.tumblr.com, where I am collecting random sounds that I may not be able to download, for free if at all, and I don’t want to bog down facebook with a bunch of ‘What the…’ tracks. So check that out. It’s weird stuff that you should like, in my opinion.
Well enough of this, time for sleep.
Lois Beamish is a daughter, mother, wife, sister, grandmother and great grandmother.
Lois Beamish, to me, was Grandma, Gran and Sister.
Lois Beamish called me Jason, Jay, buddy, brother, occasionally I was Jason Randall, and “rarely” she called my by my full, proper, name JASON RANDALL BEAMISH GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE NOW.
Lois Beamish is love.
Lois Beamish is one of God’s creatures, she knows God’s love and shares God’s love.
Lois Beamish is a bad mamma jamma, if you were caught she will beat your ass.
Lois Beamish is telepathic, truth, if you did NOT get caught she will beat your ass.
Lois Beamish does not like curse words, unless they come from her own mouth.
Lois Beamish is beautiful.
Lois Beamish is deceitful, see Party Potatoes.
Lois Beamish is love.
Lois Beamish is the judge, the jury and the executioner.
Lois Beamish’s paddle is legendary, like Bon Jovi it has seen a million asses and has spanked them all.
Lois Beamish is fair.
Lois Beamish loves live, sailing, nature, her children and grand-children.
Lois Beamish is a singer, pianist and organist.
Lois Beamish allows her family to listen to whatever they want, even though it is all crap.
Lois Beamish is, right this second, enjoying a dinner with her parents, my Grandfather Les and my Aunt Sherry, they have all taken no thank you helpings, or will hear about it later (she is also feeding Honey under the table).
Lois Beamish is guarding the ice cream, everyone knows that they must trade in a clean plate if they have any hope for desert.
Lois Beamish loves dogs, and her dogs are perfect.
Lois Beamish does not leave anyone behind because she is always with us and watching, do not pretend she is not, remember, telepath.
Lois Beamish is many things that I don’t even know about.
Lois Beamish IS and will always be my Grandmother, and I AM and will always be better for it.
I love Lois Beamish
I’ve quite a few irons in the fire right now, this may will be a bit repetitive from the last post but it is now one more. I am now also cooking a sci-fi comic and that has me a bit excited. My problem is the same as everyone else’s, time. I have to finish my revisions for the Weaponizer story as well as those for my first story for the Whitechapel compilation as well as finish the first draft for the second tale (story is there it just needs a middle and end). All that and a busy weekend full of homework.
And now, suddenly, hope for a comic, the reason I want to write in the first place. Something must give, I just hope it is nothing (does it work like that?).
I have a lot of work to do between school homework and freelance writing, emphasis on free, and Club 100 continues to beat down my door to stop me from not writing especially when I don’t have the time. Yesterday I spewed 1100 words to finish a first draft, and I received positive feedback from the editor. But what do I write when I don’t have time for edits and additions and when I want to keep my brain fresh? Whatever I want is what, just spit words, gobbletigook, shlebametto, non-words. Bretrecoom fizzeltigig rama meritor. (I just insultedca mother.) A brown sheet covers what can only be described as a waste of time, keeping nothing warm and putting this waste to bed. Until next time when the words would be plentiful and of proper intentions.