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Joshua Alan Doetsch

~ Author & Scrivnomancer

Joshua Alan Doetsch

Tag Archives: self-doubt

Give your doubts a dismissal…with a bloody axe!

30 Friday Oct 2009

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

halloween, nanowrimo, novel, self-doubt, strangeness in the proportion, white wolf

Happy pumpkin season and witching hour.

Remember to follow the Ignus Fatuus glow.

And ask Stingy Jack for a lantern.

Once upon a time, I won a novel contest. Many and many a year ago…

And now that’s finally heading towards fruition.  My editor contacted me. White Wolf has given the go on continuity and such.  Time to dig out the current draft of the manuscript…shove it back into my head…

November, which is NanoWrimo month, will see me on my own novel scramble. I’ll be polishing about 100,000 words (give or take).  Conan dialogue writing by day and novel by night.

“All work and no play…makes Jack a dull boy.”

Thankfully I won’t have time to type that all over a page or on the walls or ceiling.  That never leads to anything good anyway. Though I can make pretty nifty faces threw axe-holes in doors. But I digress.

So.

Novel.

What’s it about?

Well, while writing twitter-sized micro stories (140 characters a story) I did manage to distill it down to six little sentences:

I met Jane D. at work. She tells me who hurt her. Her hand tightens around mine. She smiles. This is love. This is rigor mortis.

Also…going over my notes…I did manage to find this handy, sophisticated, visual-plot flowchart that outlines the many nuances of the novel.

That’s all for now.  Check back for more.  I’ll surface from the pile of writing from time to time over the month, to update you all on the gory particulars of an unraveling mind and a deadline.  Good luck on all of you participating in NanoWrimo.  Keep me updated.  I’ll keep you updated.  And we’ll all get out of this alive.

Deal?

Remember, carpal tunnel is the enemy.  Stretch!  Limber up.

And self-doubts are little imps best brutalized with pipe wrenches, chainsaws, and falling anvils that you create in your head.  It’s not enough to just say they’re dealt with.  You really gotta anthropomorphize them and imagine brutally slaying them.

It works.

Do it.

I want to start hearing you all comparing self-doubt kills of the week in bloody detail.  I want the kill counts to wrack up with the word counts.  Splatter those pages with gory ink!

Hurrah!

Semper fi!

Kobra Kai!

Do or die!

Go!

 

 

Colonel Mustard is a Pussy

24 Thursday Jan 2008

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ 22 Comments

Tags

beowulf, christmas, johnny law, karisa, self-doubt, sundance

Prologue:  dropping eaves

“Are you easily offended?”

“What?” the young woman said to the middle-aged stranger in line with her for coffee at the bookstore.  I’d gotten my coffee and was at a table, with my notebook.  I readied my pen…just in case.  I’ve learned to keep my eavesdropping radar up in public places.  One never knows when usable dialogue drops out of a stranger’s mouth.

“Are you easily offended?”

“I…no…I guess not.”

“Good.”  He smiled, encouraged.  “Did you know that a mouse ejaculates, on average, every five seconds?”

Bingo.  That’s a keeper.

Down to Business and Board Games in My Head

Hello, lovelings.

It looks like I’ve been away from the blog for several weeks.  Sorry.  It’s been a rough several weeks…kind of bad.  Well…that’s not totally accurate.  Most of those weeks have been good.  The holidays were fun.  I’ve forgotten a few resolutions on schedule.  Shits n’ giggles.  But one underlying aspect has been hard…

…the outline for my novel.  I’ve been drowning it it.  Consumed by it.  Sluggish progress.  Lots of staring at a screen.  Lots of feeling little and talentless and stagnating thoughts.  For some reason I’ve had a lot of trouble bending this to my will.  I was trapped in my room, trapped in a circle of thought, stagnating.  Trapped.

Don’t worry.  I fixed it.  I turned inward.  Got sensitive.  Introspective.  I went into my head, via mind’s eye.  I found the damaged soul fragment, a shard of me, one of my dimensions, the little, shivering, Insecure Me.  He jumped at my approach, jittering and nervous.  “It’s alright,” I cooed to my little soul fragment, “I’ve come here to fix it.”  Still sobbing, the little me, Insecure Me, let down his guard and walked towards me.  And then I blew his head off.  That’s right.

It was me.

In the library of my mind.

With the revolver (I lost the candlestick sometime in my teen years and I usually save the lead pipe for bashing in the skulls of inner demons).

Insecure Me fell to the floor.  I cleaned the mess.  I hid his body in a barrel of quicklime and when the police knocked at the door, there was no evidence at all—the perfect crime—ha-ha.

I know in this age of Oprah-wisdoms we’re instructed to tenderly reconcile with all aspects of our being.  That’s nice, as far as it goes…but sometimes, I think, it’s more helpful to commit brutal homicide on the little voices in our head that tell us we’re no good.

Fuck them.

Well now, catching up would take too long.  But here’s some random things that come to mind from the last couple months…


Another Saturday Night

I started the day out in a literary discussion, and ended it with my pants off at a party.

I woke up on a November Saturday morning, unusually early, and headed to Volo Bog.  Every month they have a “Bogs and Books” meeting where they discuss some book or another.  That weekk they discussed Beowulf (the epic and the recent movie) so I thought I’d stop in.  It was small and the age gap was big…but I think they were excited for some young blood I the discussion and I can hold my own in a mythology/folklore/epic discussion.  One of the women who runs the bog visitor center and the activities there was very excited to hear that I was writing a book (more specifically, that Volo Bog was featured in a chapter).  I had fun.  I haven’t had very many literary discussions lately.

That night, I braved the cold to Bloomington, to the every-lovely Karisa and ever-armed Johnny Law’s graduation party.  As it turned out…I was just about the only one to show in the vicious weather.  Even so, there was drinking and bizarre merriment and I really, really, REALLY missed seeing these folks (among others) during my purgatory in 7-11.

Gaze now, if you dare, at our eccentric fun:

Zombies Make the Best Girlfriends Because They Like to Moan in Bed

I was the go-between between Twilight Tales and Cafe Aeon and worked out a reading/signing for Book of Dead Things on November 25th.  I got to MC the show, read a story, and sign books…so it was all fun.  The Twilight Tales folk are now in love with Aeon.


Holidays

Christmas was fun and relaxing.  Saw the extended family.  I got a new bed…a water/matress hybrid that is as warm and comfortable as a blue whale’s womb.  It’s the first step in fixing my sleep troubles and it’s gone well.  Saw friends during New Years Eve.  Drank large quantities…played rock star…even lit some sugar over absinthe.


Sundance

So I just got back from the Sundance Film Festival. 

I’m very tired.  More on this later.

Night, kiddies.  In conclusion, remember to arm yourselves with those revolvers and lead pipes.  Self doubts and insecurities are everywhere.  They can even spread from person to person…so sheath those soul condoms and play it safe.

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