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Joshua Alan Doetsch

~ Author & Scrivnomancer

Joshua Alan Doetsch

Tag Archives: swing state

Procrastination is the Perfect Drug

08 Thursday May 2008

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

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Tags

book of dead things, music, strangeness in the proportion, swing state, twilight tales, white wolf, writing

Neck deep in novel.

I’ve got less then a month to go and most of it (the new draft) to write. I picked up a lot of slothful habits that I’m having a bitch of a time trying to kill. But I need to. If I’m not productive, I tend to not sleep well these days…so writing and running and working out and writing…hopefully when the month is out I’ll have a book and be a bit thinner (all to earn the zzzzzz’s).

This pretty much leaves me a hermit until June 1st.

But I’ll try and pop on here, every so often, to surface…maybe a month of posts following the progress of a novel. It’s a novel for White Wolf. It’s a horror story…though I like to think of it as a love story on the other side of entropy. It’s about a very eccentric, absinthe addicted forensic pathologist, Simon, who meets a girl, falls for the girl, looses the girl, and then gets her back…one piece at a time (and he falls down a very twisted rabbit hole along the way). It’s called Strangeness in the Proportion.

By the bye, the reading at SWING STATE went really well. At first, I thought it wasn’t. It’s a loud and raucous place—nothing wrong with that…but I started getting the feeling, while reading my story from BOOK OF DEAD THINGS, that I was reading to an audience that couldn’t hear, and didn’t really want to. But…people started scooching up, people started complimenting, and as the Twilight Tales crew read further, we gathered more of them, and we read some more…only this time picking out the more lyrical, short, and violent/suggestive/funny/sexy pieces to read. I read my poem, “Poe Goes to the Singles Bar” and that seemed to be a hit. In the end, we sold as many, or more books than we have at quieter, more “attentive” venues, so I chalk it a success. Thanks for having us out Swing State!

Back to the novel…when I write, I like to make playlists for the things I’m writing, little (or big) soundtracks to my fiction. A lot of it is instrumental/mood music…but a sizable chunk has lyrics and sometimes lyrics help by adding images and words that help focus the project in question. I might make another post, later, about more of the music I listen to while writing this novel, but right now, I thought I’d mention two songs that I think sort of indirectly narrate the plot of the book (from different angels).

The first song is by my bestest friend, Torrie’s brother’s former band, Lucigen. The song is called “Cadaver”. The lyrics go:

strained stare in a new light
and a walk among the dead
in the moonlight
i know it’s strange but will you
try and realize this time
I could never paint you in memories
though I promised you my eternity
I could die with everything in harmony
with your golden eyed cadaver
falling over me

showering down on the window
leak the stars dust into your pillow
and I’ll whisper something
you will never know
forever these feelings will drift with me
all the currents will singe with your purity
and with the strength of a thousand antihistamines
and your golden eyed cadaver
falling over me

when do you suppose they’ll come after you
will they come for me
when they have recovered you
I’ll be the same as I was
when I endangered you
you’re a golden eyed cadaver
I’m in love with you



The second song is Nine Inch Nail’s “Perfect Drug”. Again, I can almost follow the plot of my novel by the lyrics:

I got my head, but my head is unraveling
Cant keep control, cant keep track of where its traveling
I got my heart but my heart is no good
And you’re the only one that’s understood
I come along but I don’t know where you’re taking me
I shouldn’t go but you’re reaching back and shaking me
Turn off the sun, pull the stars from the sky
The more I give to you, the more I die

And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you

You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug

You make me hard, when I’m all soft inside
I see the truth, when I’m all stupid eyed
The arrow goes straight through my heart
Without you everything just falls apart

My blood wants to say hello to you
My feelings want to get inside of you
My soul is so afraid to realize
Every little word is a lack of me

And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you

You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
(whispering)
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the drug, the perfect drug

Take me, with you
Take me, with you
Take me, with you
(continues in background)
Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, it’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, it’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces
It’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces
It’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, it’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces

But, I think, if we shuffle the two sets of lyrics together…we come to something that gets really close to a surreal plot synopsis:

I got my head, but my head is unraveling
Cant keep control, cant keep track of where its traveling
I got my heart but my heart is no good
And you’re the only one that’s understood

Strained stare in a new light
And a walk among the dead in the moonlight
I come along but I don’t know where you’re taking me
I shouldn’t go but you’re reaching back and shaking me
I know it’s strange but will you
Try and realize this time
I could never paint you in memories
Turn off the sun, pull the stars from the sky
Though I promised you my eternity
The more I give to you, the more I die
I could die with everything in harmony
With your golden eyed cadaver falling over me

And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you

You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug

You make me hard, when I’m all soft inside
I see the truth, when I’m all stupid eyed
Showering down on the window
Leak the stars dust into your pillow
And I’ll whisper something
You will never know
The arrow goes straight through my heart
Without you everything just falls apart

My blood wants to say hello to you
My feelings want to get inside of you
Forever these feelings will drift with me
All the currents will singe with your purity
My soul is so afraid to realize
Every little word is a lack of me
And your golden eyed cadaver falling over me

And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you

And with the strength of a thousand antihistamines
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug

When do you suppose they’ll come after you
Will they come for me when they have recovered you
Take me, with you
Take me, with you
Take me, with you

Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, its not as much fun to pick up the pieces
I’ll be the same as I was
when I endangered you
you’re a golden eyed cadaver
I’m in love with you
Its not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Its not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, its not as much fun to pick up the pieces

Tonight’s blog entry is brought to you by the largest word in the english language:

“Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis”

It’s a lung disease caused by breathing in volcanic particles.

Good night!

I Clubbed a Hobbit Inside Enya’s Uterus

29 Tuesday Apr 2008

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

birthday, book of dead things, epic poetry, mom, pottery, skulls, strangeness in the proportion, swing state, writing

My brother was playing World of Warcraft on his computer, running through some new level/location.  I noticed the game music as I walked by.

Joshua:  Wow…that’s pretty relaxing mood music for a computer game.

Nick:  Yeah…

Joshua:  It sounds…sounds like you’re inside Enya’s womb…

Nick:  Yeah…

30 in the Mirror May be Closer Than It Appears
So I’m 29 today (yesterday…it’s late).  I don’t feel panicky that this is the last year of my 20’s…I just feel vaguely obligated to be so.  I sometimes fear stagnation, of extinguishing.  But age, in and of itself…well…my freshman year of college, in my acting class, we had a make-up section and the final project was to make ourselves geriatric and I discovered one thing about myself that day…I’m  going to be one sexy-ass old man.

Thanks for all the well wishes, everyone.

For my birthday, my Mom wove her pottery-wheel magic and whipped me up a batch of coffee mugs, drinking cups and house plant pots decorated in smiley-muerte skulls.  It’s the macabre and motherly love all swirled together in the primordial embrace of earthen ware.  It makes me smile like the skulls.

Novel Deadlines, Horror Anthologies, and Epic Teachings
The deadline for my completed draft of the White Wolf novel is now June 1st.  It’s getting close.  I still have most of it to write.  I’ll likely have to disappear, for the most part, until June.

Several Mondays ago, I met with a few Chicago writers and talked through the seeds of what will be a horror anthology…but with an interesting method and progression of story to story, author to author (I don’t know what details I can say just yet).  I’m pretty excited about it.  We’re creating a shared mythology and setting.  I’ve already read the rough draft of the first story and things are progressing from there.  Sometimes after June 1st, I’ll get started on my story.

On Friday, I visited my friend, Genenda, who teaches high school English, and talked to three of her classes about poetry, some of its history, mythology, how storytelling changes when working with a known mythos, and how epics tie into todays media.  The kids were pretty good, many of them interested, a few asking good questions about writing, and even one asked me about writing epic poetry.  To top it all off, I got to read a story and a poem and perform some improv acting at an open mic at the local coffee shop…all lubricated with three, pre-birthday double-whiskey’s and cokes.  And Sabra sang the coolest version of a Brittany Spears song that I’ve ever heard.

Book of Dead Thing Event


Another Book of Dead Things event is coming up, this Friday, May 2nd.

8:00 pm at Swing State (a hookah lounge/cafe/gallery)
19041 W. Grand Ave.
Lake Villa, IL

Some of the Twilight Tales crew (including myself) will be on hand to do some live readings from Book of Dead Things.

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