Happy birthday, little brother.

Last couple of days have been pretty unremarkable. Work on "The Trendsetter" is coming along, with only one foreseeable bump in the road ahead. Otherwise just a matter of sitting down, and getting it on the computer in real script fashion, and I'll be done.

I've been slacking on that, though, as I've been trying to prepare for Christmas. Past couple of days have been spent setting up an eBay and Paypal account, and just generally reading up on the best way to sell a shit ton of Swamp Thing comics. If Christmas comes this year for me, Santa won't be the bearded man who'll make it happen -- it'll be Alan Moore, and god love him, if anyone can save Christmas, it'll be him. Honestly, I imagine all this internet/e-commerce type stuff is supposed to come much easier to my generation than it has been for me, but it's my first time, so I'm trying to be gentle.

Justin has a new projected date for the finish on the comic [Re: Calamity Cash and the Town with No Name]. We're looking at February, most likely.

Someone I care for very deeply gave me advice a while ago, and I just got around to taking it. I told someone close to me about how I'd been feeling lately. I'm glad I did it, though its hard to call anything a success, as my friend is very action oriented, and I just don't feel like I'm ready to grab the bull by the horns yet. Sometimes I'm not even sure if my problems are really problems at all -- or if I'm just depressed and bored, and a lot of that would abate if my life could finally get in motion. It's a great secret to fiction that to characters in movement, bad memories and familial relations are only background, while it's the stationary characters that turn all that stuff into plot. I'm having very mixed feelings on the whole subject today -- thinking, not unrealistically, that the whole incident could have just been a "low" point -- and am just glad I have a few people in life who still care to listen, and will leave it to me if I want to dig all that crap up again.

Talked to Sam and Casey. Casey is picking up "Floaters," an idea I had back in college for a horror film that has a such an awesome premise I dare not speak it here. He says he did a whole first act for it, which is great, and there's a lot of promise in that little idea. I just hope he hasn't decided me working on it with him is a lost cause... I really like all the beats I came up with for it, and think it'd be fun to do. Sam, meanwhile, I tried bugging into maybe doing another comic, which she actually didn't shoot down for good, just for right now while she recoups from all this madness she's been going through as of late.

I miss them both, because they're two of my favorite people, and because of other reasons too. Casey because he's my boy, and I feel like I let him down by not being out there in LA with him right now, and I wanna make that up to him, plus I kind of want to live that dream with him.

Sam's more complicated. It's mostly because no matter what anyone else says, we made a damn good team as a artist/writer, and I honestly think that if she makes it, her work will be some of the best out there. But also, it's because after four years of a relationship, I do wish we had the chance to be friends again, and real friends, not just internet/aim, "I'll catch you when I can," kind of thing. Then again, some of my best friends I only see online, or talk to on the phone, so maybe I'm being nit picky.

Anyway, the reason for writing, even though I had nothing really to say, is that today is my kid brother Aaron's birthday. I say "kid brother" because now he's taller than me, and can drive. Pretty much rules out "little brother" in my book. Happy Birthday, Aaron. Seven years difference is getting less and less, the older you get on me. I know you're not reading this, but if you ever find my post, I love you, man.

Now I'm going to go try and catch a nap while my grandmother's cleaning lady is here. Never feel more in the way than then. Better to just be in bed.


P.S. And I don't think you're reading either, but if you are, it's been hard for me to restart "Mirth." Seldon and I just get too damn sad.

1 comments :: Happy birthday, little brother.

  1. Fortunately Edith Wharton seems to have polished up Mirth for you, though if you're like me, you'd like a do-over on that one anyway.

    That friend who listened to your feelings sounds like a jerk. Let's go break his thumbs.