Winter word jam session.
Alana is one of my favorite people to bounce ideas off of when I’ve got writers block. We talked a bit about why everyone seems to get the impression that Bastian is a necrophiliac. [He isn't, I assure you.] The thing I love about Bastian is he was a victim of horrible, unimaginable physical and sexual abuse his whole life, and now he constantly craves control. So we decided that somnophilia isn’t out of the question for him; I think that’s one fetish that is arguably more about control than even sadism. Then again, necrophilia is about control too, isn’t it? Anyway. Bottom line: Bastian likes his girls with a pulse.
Yeah, Layla does have a pulse. That was the next thing we talked about. I don’t think she’s by any means the walking dead. She’s a living being, completely human biologically, but she is immortal; it’s not that she isn’t physically capable of dying, it’s that Sarasvati won’t let her die.
Alana asked me why I think Bastian is going to be so easily persuaded by Shaun to turn dark side. I honestly don’t have an answer yet. I don’t think he’s a bad person… I think maybe he’s always envied Layla her immortality and finally starts to realize that he really is drinking himself to death, that he’s already done so much irreparable damage to his body, and sees this as an easy way out. He’s probably too naive to see the repercussions, like she was when she was human and made the same offer. I don’t know which god/dess is going to, you know, “sponsor” Bastian. I’m definitely not going to limit myself to Hindi gods and goddesses. I’ll pick someone good…
Explosion.
Taking the Nephilm in a totally new direction.
I know it’s late in the game for that. Couldn’t care any less.
It’s going to be awesome.
[This is owing in part to the fact that, due to a huge computer networking failure, everything that I had saved onto the internet has disappeared. That's just one of the ten thousand reasons I write everything down on paper before risking it with technology, kiddos.]
Long time no write.
Got an offer for the Nephilim. Hush hush for now. I’m satisfied… not THRILLED, mind you, but certainly satisfied.
My dear darling friend Dwayne rang me up today and asked me if I was drinking again. Since I was about age sixteen, that’s how I dealt with my problems… by drowning them with whatever booze I could get down my throat. The last six months have been a little shaky and things are beginning to get to the maelstrom, so I guess he thought I’d be back to my junior alcoholic days. Wrong. I’m sober as a Jesus freak.
What the reason is, I haven’t a clue…
…Okay. I have a slight inkling of what it may be.
Shut the fuck up and don’t ask questions.
I’m almost done with training at my job; started making some sales calls today. Every person that called me for a quote ended up booking a cruise. Sure, it was just two bookings but still… I pwned it. Until my supervisor came up behind me and silently watched me over my shoulder. I do well under solitary pressure, but I become insanely overly self-aware and screw up when I know that someone’s watching me that closely. Still, wasn’t a bad day.
Oh. I’m practicing “leaving well enough alone.” It’s such a struggle. I like dissecting every little thing that happens. I can’t help it… I think that’s why I’m studying psychology. And sure, sometimes things happen that you do need to read further into. So I’ve just got to work on figuring out how hard I ought to think about what people say or what they do.
I need some goddamned chocolate.
Busy little bee.
I’ve been all tied up with the Nephilim lately. It’s going nowhere, I hate to admit. I like to postpone things and go around in circles. I like staring at the blinking little cursor and waiting for some brilliant inspiration to come to me. [It very rarely does.] And my mind’s been on everything but the story lately. Tsk tsk. I used to get so wrapped up in my stuff that it would take a crowbar to pry the pen out from my fingers… now it just takes a phone call.
I’m still pulling sixty hour weeks though, I assure you of that.
Today I’m chilling out with my baby cousin Donovan. He’s a couple months old. He’s always smiling and giggling, but then the giggles disolve into tears. It must suck being a baby…
Sweet Jesus.
Do you have any idea how much willpower it takes for me to get out of bed and go to work this early? There is nothing on god’s green earth that absolutely needs to be said at 8:30 am… it can wait until at least 10. I haven’t got any problem admitting that I’m lazy. Come on, do you think if I was capable of functioning before noon in a workplace enviornment I’d be working freelance? I’d have a 9 to 5 job and a steady paycheck. But where’s the fun in that? Better to work erratic hours, put in 310%, and get paid a pittance. At least my name’s attached to my work now…
Anyway, the Nephilim pitch is going okay. Nobody seems to easily understand the subplots. I need to make things just a bit clearer before final print… Dwayne and I are shooting memos back and forth talking about how to do it. He’s really good with stuff like that. And he hasn’t made a single sex joke all morning; that’s a personally record for him. 
I think the subplots going on with the characters bring really important depth to the story. It’s not just about angels and demons; the first time James read it he said it was like a theological riddle. I liked that, but I want it to be solvable.
I’m watching the last Narnia movie. It’s really distracting. I’ve hit the mute button on the telephone and I’m sitting on the bed in my pajamas. Teleconferences aren’t so bad afterall… just wish they’d consider us slacker, deadbeat artists before scheduling them…
