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Brief writing exercises and thoughts on writing. Maybe the occasional personal musing.
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  Proud Member This is my writer's scratchpad. I use this space to scribble down some quick thoughts and images that appeal to me. The idea is that when I don't feel like working on one of my stories but still want to write, the incomplete "droplets" I form will get posted here. I have another (currently dormant) blog where I discuss politics, sexuality, spirituality, and whatever else comes to mind. It's called The Musings of a Confused Man  . |
| From "Blogging Circle of Friends " : If you could have personally witnessed one event in history, what would you want to have seen? You know, this is a hard one for me to figure out. For starters, I'm not sure I can pick a single event in history that I consider so important that I'd want to witness it. In some ways, I suppose I might like to see some of the early fights for LGBT* equality, such as the Stonewall Riots. The thought of watching a group of people who have been pushed so far that they decide to push back is somewhat exciting. After all, while not exactly a breeze, my life is a lot better because of what the Stonewall rioters and even others who pushed back against police intimidation through less violent actions did for all of us. On a similar note, I supposed I'd love be there for Rosa Parks's infamous arrest and subsequent trial. I often wonder if she planned on becoming such a civil rights hero when she refused to comply with orders to give up her seat. I find myself wondering if she ever had second thoughts as things progressed. In that case, I supposed I wouldn't just want to witness the events, but actually be able to talk to her about them, too. JarredH  Give me pen and paper and I shall create entire worlds and fill them with adventures. |
| From "Blogging Circle of Friends " : What are your pet peeves? The timing on this prompt is perfect. My car died on Monday night, so I've been walking to and from work and dealing with the stress of figuring out how to get temporary transportation while I get things together so I can get a different car. So grumping about all the things that annoy me sounds delightfully cathartic right now. So here come my pet peeves. Dishonesty. I spent a year dealing with someone who lied to the point where I suspect that there was a pathological basis for all his lies. As such, I'm extremely sensitive to dishonesty. The occasional white lie or something like that is something I'm willing to let slide. But if it reaches a point - and it doesn't take much to reach that point these days - that I start wondering if someone is lying to me every time zie says something, things are headed for trouble. It's not just outright and intentional lies, though. I also get annoyed by people who constantly delude themselves or even seem to have a complete lack of self-awareness. If a person's actions do not match up with what zie is saying - a huge example is somone who constantly complains about drama, yet seems to always create it or hang out with those who stir up drama - gets very tiring. I usually want to tell them to wake up, smell the roses (or more aptly, the fertilizer), and figure things out. Persistent lateness. This one is borne of having my parents for parents. They instilled in me the concept of being on time - or better yet, early - for every little thing. They taught me that if I had an appointment, I should give myself ten extra minutes of driving time, just in case something comes up. Sometimes, I confess I go too far and I've had to apologize for being a whole half hour early (this is especially true if I'm going someplace for the first time and am not sure how long it will actually take me to drive there). So when people are constantly late, it annoys me. I'm not talking about the occasional time when someone is five minutes late because they hit bad traffic, the baby threw up just as they were getting ready to leave, or some other thing that's out of hir control. But there are those people who seem to be five, ten, fifteen, or even twenty minutes late every single time. My time is as valuable as I am, and I'm usually left feeling that people who persistently fail to show up when we agreed we'd meet place little value on both. Strangers who contact me, but have nothing to say. This happens to me a lot of social networking and dating sites. A person (usually a guy) will contact me as if to strike up a conversation. Then, I realize that they really have nothing to say. All their responses are one or two word replies to anything I say. I don't mind keeping up my end of a conversation, usually enjoying it in fact. But I do wish that people who contact me put in their share of the effort. Maybe a tad more, considering they're the one who sought out conversation with me. People who think they are entitle to get something from me. Again, this is one I mostly run into on dating sites. In fact, I started a series of posts on my other blog about the topic. Some guy will contact me and tell me what he wants and never once stop to consider what it is that I want or why I should even be motivated to give him what he wants. I've gotten quite grumpy about it when it happens.JarredH Give me pen and paper and I shall create entire worlds and fill them with adventures. |
| From "Blogging Circle of Friends " : If you were going to be stranded on a deserted island, and could bring only five items with you, which five items would you bring? Who plans to get stranded on a deserted island? Did the tourists on the S.S. Minnow sign up for the "marooned tourists" cruise by mistake? This prompt makes absolutely no sense. Granted, that's fine with me. I'm downright fascinated by nonsense.  Okay, five items..... 1. A magnifying glass. I'm assuming that I can forage, hunt, or fish for food on the island. I'm assuming I can construct a simple shelter. But at some point, I'm going to want to build a fire. Actually, I'm probably going to want to do it multiple times. I can gather firewood, klndling, and tinder, but I need to have a way to start the fire. Matches can only be used once. Lighters eventually run out of fuel. And quite frankly, trying to start a fire from friction or sparking a stone against steel is hard. But focusing sunlight through a magnifying glass? I can manage that. Plus, I can use the magnifying glass to try and signal planes and such. (Not as easy as using a mirror, but hey.) 2. A knife with sharpener. I'm counting this as one item as a lot of knives are sold with a sharpening stone in a pocket of the knife's sheath. Again, I might need to cut something and trying to find or make "something sharp" can be pretty darn hard. 3. A book. I'm not sure which book I'd choose. Maybe Lord of the Rings just because it's long and such a classic. If I can claim The Magister Trilogy by C.S. Friedman as a single item, I might do that. I need something to occupy my mind, after all. You can only run through the jungle and pretend your Tarzan so many times. 4. A journal and pen. Again, I'm going to treat these as a single item. I want a way to keep writing and record my thoughts. Unfortunately, this is one item that will eventually wear out. So if I'm truly stranded for life, that'll be a sad thing. 5. A canteen or other container for water. I'm assuming I can find potable water or find a way to collect/make it. I need something to store it in, though. I actually had a different idea for #5, but I decided that declaring a man an "item" would be too objectifying. JarredH Give me pen and paper and I shall create entire worlds and fill them with adventures. |
| From "Blogging Circle of Friends " : Who is one person who makes your life better? I am going to have to go with this gal right here:  That's my cat, Precious. Yeah, some people might say I'm stretching the definition of "person" a bit. Hey, my blog, my rules.  I got Precious back in 2004 (give or take one year). I remember it was the month of March. About three weeks prior to me adopting her, I had to have my sixteen year old cat, Strype, put down. I had already decided I wanted another cat, but was waiting so that I had time to fully mourn Strype. In fact, I hadn't planned on getting a cat the day that I adopted Precious, as I had wanted to wait at least one more week. But that Saturday afternoon, I swear the Norns were conspiring against me -- on Precious's orders, no doubt! I was driving through town and I knew that I would be passing by the local chapter of the ASPCA. I figured I might as well stop and look at what cats they had and what the adoption process was like, just to give me an idea of what things would be like in another week or two when I was "ready" to adopt. I had already decided I wanted to adopt from a shelter in order to save a cat that might otherwise spend a tragically short life in such a place. I also decided that I wanted to adopt an adult cat (two years or older), since they were less likely to be adopted than a cute little kitten. But that all changed as I walked into the shelter and their small (20 foot by 20 foot) cat room and started peering in cages. There in a cage in one of the corners stood a beautiful dilute tortoiseshell kitten of seven months. I glanced at her paperwork and saw that her name was Alberta. She looked at me and meowed and I knew she was adorable. But I wasn't willing to admit she was my cat yet. So I continued around the room. I found a couple cats that were more in line with the age range I was looking at, but I just wasn't drawn to them. They didn't seem to be drawn to me, either. In fact, one of them actually hissed at me. I walked back to Alberta's cage and she stood and walked to the front of her cage to meow at me again. She looked at me with those beautiful eyes and informed me in no uncertain terms that she would be going home with me today. I knew I was beat, so I acquiesced. See? Cosmic conspiracy. Cats have that kind of pull, you know. I went out front and told them that I was interested in Alberta. One of the women squealed in delight and told me that Alberta had just arrived the day before and had spent most of that day riding around on the woman's shoulders. They suggested I go hold her, so I went back in the room and unlocked her cage. Sure enough, she climbed up on my shoulders and our bond was solidified. I went back out and informed them that I would indeed be taking Alberta home. "Just one thing. Can I please change her name." "Please do!" And so at that moment, Alberta became Precious. Yes, it's a Lord of the Ring reference. Let me tell you, some days she lives up to the reputation of that name and the object of pure evil it represents. I love her dearly. So I went home a week earlier expected with a cat that was a good bit younger than I had planned on. At least the gods let me have a tri-color cat, so some of my original intent was kept intact. The other part of my plan that was allowed to survive was my plan to rescue a cat. You see, Monday evening, I took Precious to my vet for her first checkup. She had a severe upper respiratory infection, so severe that it took a month and two different antibiotics to cover it up. Also, her first feline leukemia test came back with a false positive. Had she still been at the shelter when the URI was detected or if they ended up testing her for FeLV and getting a false positive, they would have had to put her down to keep either from spreading to the other cats. The fact that she got there on a Friday and I picked her up that Saturday before they did medical checks the following week means that she and I had a perfect window of opportunity to find her, love her, and save her. I'm not kidding about the cosmic conspiracy thing. The good news is that Precious did eventually get healthy and has been healthy for the eight years plus that I've had her. She's now a sweet and lovable little monster who loves to play and be independent almost as much as she loves to cuddle. Since she's gotten healthy, she doesn't like to be held anymore and she doesn't like to perch on my shoulders either. Though she loves to curl up next to me when I'm on the computer.  And she'll occasionally sit on my chest or side if I'm laying on the couch. Mostly, though, she prefers to cuddle next to me with just her head resting on my arm or thigh. In return for me saving her life, Precious has kept me sane. When I was in my twenties, I moved out on my own. I didn't do too well, suffered from depression (okay, the relationship from hell didn't help with that), and eventually moved back in with my parents due to health problems. I stayed with my parents until I moved from Pennsylvania to Western New York in 2005. When I moved to New York, I brought Precious with me. The first time I moved out, I left Strype at my parents' home. He had lived with them and his sister, Bear, for over a decade by that time, and the apartment I moved to (which was only thirty minutes from my parents home) didn't allow me to have pets. In retrospect, that left me much lonelier in my new place than I strictly needed to be, and I think that took its toll. When I moved to New York, I knew I had to take Precious with me. She was very much my cat and the two of us share a special bond, the kind that let's me actively call her to me 90% of the time and that keeps her within twenty feet of me when we go outside together. So when I moved, I made a point of looking for landlords that would let me have a cat. I found my townhouse, and Precious moved with me. She keeps me company on my loneliest nights. She cheers me up and leaves me feeling loved when I have a bad relationship experience. She makes me laugh when I see her attacking her own tale on the bed less than three feet away from me. If I didn't have her with me, the solitude would drive me crazy. Okay, crazier. JarredH Give me pen and paper and I shall create entire worlds and fill them with adventures. |
| Tara took several deep breaths, willing her mind into an altered state of conscience as Master Shane had taught her. As she felt her body melt from around her mind, she sent it outward, seeking out other souls to touch and exchange some energy, thoughts and feelings with. She came across one, which she perceived as vibrant and purple. She touched that aura with her own mind, and she noted as images of small children laughing came to her. She moved on, seeking out another point of contact. This time, a pale green aura loomed before here. This time, she touched it and immediately felt a mix of tenderness and arousal. She wasn’t sure if her astral form could blush, but she felt like it was as she pushed onward. She continued on, noting the feelings, images, thoughts, and other sensations that she experienced with each new contact. After several more such contacts, she suddenly felt as if she had gone cold. She looked around and saw that she was surrounded by a bleak grayness. From one direction, she could see several aura’s approaching her. They were black, something she had never seen. She felt her mind going numb as they approached her. She felt like she needed to get out of there, but could not remember how to move. It was as if these frightening beings had drained her of all thought and energy. She suddenly felt as if the whole universe had been ripped away from her. Her mind reeled and she opened her eyes. She was back fully in her body and Master Shane stood in front of her, a stern look on his face. She tried to ask what happened but could only gasp. Master Shane spoke, his voice rough. “That was very foolish of you. You wandered into the forbidden realm, despite my warning to mind your surroundings in the astral realm. Had I not been following your progress and yanked you back to safety, you would have been devoured by the Dark Ones for sure.” She hung her head. “I am sorry, Master. I got caught up in the beauty of the exercise.” He nodded. “That is the danger of such work, child. You were lucky this time. Hopefully your near brush with such a horrendous fate will help you learn to be more careful next time. At any rate, you should go rest. Your lessons are done for today.” “Thank you, Master.” She stood, unsteadily at first. When she was sure she would not fall over, she bowed to her teacher before turning to leave the temple room. JarredH Give me pen and paper and I shall create entire worlds and fill them with adventures. |
| From "Blogging Circle of Friends " : If you could be any age again for one week, which would you choose? I would love to be eighteen again, though I admit that I'd like it to last for more than a week. I started college as a freshman when I was eighteen, and I'd love to redo my college years over again. I suspect I'm a bit different than most people who would like to redo their college years. I imagine a lot of people would want to study harder, get better grades, and so on. Not me. I want to go back and properly misspend my youth. You see, I was way too much of a goodie two shoes. And what's worse, I was sexually repressed -- totally self-inflicted (though with the encouragement of my church and social upbringing, mind you). So I'd rather go back to college and an age where I didn't have quite as many adult responsibilities to truly enjoy myself. I'm not talking about orgies and drinking until I puke, mind you. (While I waited until I was actually 21 before I drank, I never considered myself straightedge or anything.) But it would be nice to be back at that age, fully out, and exploring my feelings and what it means to date and enjoy the company of other guys. In other words, I'd like to go back so I can learn what it means to be romantically and sexually involved with someone back when I was supposed to (or close to it) rather than in my mid-to-late twenties when I was dealing with (and learning to do so) what should've been "late teen drama" while trying to be a responsible member of the work force and paying all my bills on time. It's kind of hard to get all upset over drama and still keep the boss happy. In some ways, going back even earlier, to my high school days, might be a good idea too. But only if I can choose a different high school than the one I originally went to. Growing up in rural PA, there was a reason to stay closeted and repressed. But that reason went away when I went to college. I just didn't realize it at the time, or at least I didn't change my choices as a result. JarredH Our tears remind us that we're alive. Our laughter reminds us why. |
| I haven't done a Writing Quickie for today, and I don't think I'm going to. The good news, however, is that I've continued on with "A Change of Mind" [GC] today. I started a new chapter, "Second Date With Nate" , and am already over 1,600 words into it. I also added a new dimension to Curt's life, his enabling of Tina, who has a bit of a drinking problem and tends to rely on him a bit too much without giving back. And of course, he's reviewing his date with Nate with his friends. I also have plans on moving forward with the story arc with him supervising scenery and props artwork for the church pageant. I actually have a lot of ideas for this story and suspect I may have to cut a few of them as part of the editing process. Wouldn't that be a nice problem to have? To have too much and disjointed material that needs to be pruned out? I actually stopped when I still had plenty of writing ideas and steam tonight. I've actually made a conscious decision to do that from now on. I think it's often detrimental when I write until I can't think of anything more to write. I think it mentally exhausts me and leaves me feeling like I won't be able to continue. In contrast, I've been finding that if I stop while I'm still at a high point, I find that I want to keep writing and start anticipating the next writing session. I think that's an awesome place to be in. JarredH Our tears remind us that we're alive. Our laughter reminds us why. |
I lay next to John in our shared sleeping bag. The steady rhythm of his soft breathing told me that he was still asleep. I looked at his face, smiling at the the brown, unshaven stubble that peppered his cheeks, chin, and neck. I felt so warm, and I was loathe to step out into the cool air that filled the rest of our four man tent. I had to admit that John was right. While there were only two of us, the bigger tent gave us extra room that I had come to appreciate. I looked at the wall of the tent and could that it was bathed in light. I couldn’t tell the exact position of the sun, but I guessed it had risen fully above the horizon. I figured if it hadn’t yet, the dew would soon be fully burned off from its warm rays. I listened as a pair of chipmunks chittered. I guessed that they were running around the ground near the small pine tree that was about twenty feet from the tent. I decided it was time to get moving, as my bladder let me know it was experiencing discomfort. I took a deep breath and braced myself as I pulled back the sleeping bag and slipped from its warm confines. John stirred slightly as I pulled a pair of jeans over my boxers and donned a flannel shirt. I took one more look at his sleeping form as I unzipped the door to the tent and stepped outside. JarredH Our tears remind us that we're alive. Our laughter reminds us why. |
| Prompt from "Blogging Circle of Friends " : My friends and family love me. But they like me because . . . I think one of the reasons my friends and family like me is my wicked sense of humor. I can usually find the absurdity of any situation and find a way to laugh or joke about it. Plus I tend to be quick-witted and have a somewhat perverse (and perverted sense of humor), so puns, double tenderness, and snappy one-liners tend to roll off my tongue with relative ease and frequency. I also tend to be an insightful and compassionate person with excellent listening skills. I find that many friends find it easy to open up to me and share whatever is bothering them, knowing that they will find a sympathetic ear that's usually devoid of judgment or criticism. At the same time, I'm also pretty good at asking leading questions, inviting them to explore exactly what's bothering them and get a better understanding of why that is. JarredH Our tears remind us that we're alive. Our laughter reminds us why. |
| Note: All links in this blog entry are to GC or XGC stories. I enjoy writing erotica. I post it both here and on one or two other sites that are dedicated specifically to erotica and other sexual stories. I end up getting a lot of compliments on my stories, which I'm quite proud of. One of the compliments I've seen a bit lately is that my stories tend not to be too graphic or bawdy and tend to capture the emotional or sensual side of things. Granted, that's not true of my stories. Sometimes I do like just a blatant and detailed description of raunchy sex. But I also think that stories like that tend to get boring and redundant. To be honest, the actual mechanics of the various sex acts are quite straightforward and repeatedly describing them (or repeatedly reading descriptions of them) can get pretty monotonous after a while. This is why when I often write erotica, I try to focus on something besides (or in addition) to the basic acts themselves. A lot of times, I like to focus on the setup and consider how my characters find themselves with each other and getting amorous and/or frisky. This can be something sweet and tender, like in "Shower Love-making" [GC], or it can be something more blatant, like luring in a potential partner using a prop, like I did in the first chapter of "College Love" [GC], "Tastes Like Virgin" . I might explore how the characters feel about the experience, like in "Starting the Day Right" [XGC].The thing is, erotica is like actual sex itself. While the act can be highly enjoyable, it's usually the circumstances, feelings, and other factors that accompany it that tend to make a given experience unique and memorable. JarredH Our tears remind us that we're alive. Our laughter reminds us why. |
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