There's no two ways about it. I am capricious. Every few weeks I have a new plan for what I want to do. I can't stick to anything.
Honestly, these posts should just be updates about what has happened, not what may. I have no idea, really, what I'll be doing in a month.
So what has
I suppose there's some
conformity to prior plans.
I am still working on Stellar Stories Vol. 1
. Much as I like a little proofreading and getting things in order, I am truly reaching my limit. But what must be done, must be done. A small excitement is that I have hired an actual illustrator for the cover. I still did the overall design, but getting real art will be nice.
And my plan
is still to release the book sometime before the release of Cirsova's Fall issue, to capitalize on my story being the cover story.
But there has been a big distraction. It was my own fault. My collaboration with Misha Burnett had been idle for a year. That bugged me. So I contacted him to get it going again and he agreed. Over the next few weeks we finished the novella. It's quite
good, and a bit unusual. Misha came up with an idea to get it out to the public and we are pursuing that, but who knows what will happen.
And as for my own unfinished stories? What are my priorities right now?
My standard for prioritizing has been: "What if I got hit by a truck tomorrow?" What simply must
be finished? But that standard has been oddly debilitating. I recognize that writing is work, but writing just to forestall the nonexistence of a story
is truly just work
. Whether or not it's frivolous, I'd rather be writing for fun.
The sixth Hamlin Becker story — the likely finale — excites me in all that I want to accomplish; but by golly, I'm not in the mood
for it. Same goes for the second Hak Iri story. Never mind my poor, moribund novel The Remnant
. Those are my top three Get-It-Done-Before-the-Truck-Hits-Me and I just don't care.
So what am I going to do next? Who knows. Come back in a month or two and I'll tell you what I actually did.
I never got more than a few pages into The Lord of the Rings
. I thought the movies were, in the end, boring. Over the years I have acquired a lot of cultural knowledge about Tolkien's intent and craft and, thus intrigued, I have always wished his work would simply attract me, if only so I wasn't the odd man out among my fellow odd men out.
Well, I'm still not planning on reading the book, but on a whim I bought the extended edition of the movie trilogy, and... it's not boring. It may be an unremarkable thing to say, but Lord of the Rings
needed the miniseries feel of the extended films. Even though I had never read the books, the theatrical versions had seemed a collection of steps, of scenes, of highlights from something greater.
Now, I have no idea if the extended versions truly represent the books better (aye, there's still no Tom Bombadil, haha), but they at least represent the movies
better. There is an epic feel at last, and somehow the human (hobbit, elf, whatever) moments are better grounded.
The "Arts Community"
There are many reasons I did not become an illustrator or painter. Oh, I had the talent. I truly did. I just needed the development.
But I couldn't stand the artists
They're such a degenerate bunch. And even when I was a teenager, I felt it in my bones: These people aren't right
. And as I aged, I wondered why art should arise from such a sorry lot of people. True enough, most of their "art" is, as I often say, Art with a capital F. Even so, why were — why are! — the "arts" so populated with leftists, deviants, and perverts?
The leftists, deviants, and perverts like to pretend that it is only their kind that can even create art; that of course they dominate, because they are necessary. But I have realized something else, something not really that profound but worth remembering.
The leftists, deviants, and perverts have no other home
. The "arts community" arises because its denizens revile the true
communities of family, neighborhood, nation, and church. For them it is all about the alternate family
, the family that has nothing to do with parents and siblings. The artists who are not
oikophobes nor freaks blend with the population of the normal world. The "arts community" is just a trap in a greasy drain.
Even then, it does seem that LDPs dominate the production of "art." This is an illusion. Among LDPs there are genuine artists, just as there are among the rest of us, and no more than among the rest of us; but the genuinely talented LDP sets the tone for the "arts community," and that community is profoundly
We do not have a multitude of LDP artists; we have a handful of such artists and a horde desperately mimicking them. The lowly LDP needs affirmation from his alternate family. The NPC is as much a reality in the arts as in politics.
And, of course, as far as "dominance" is concerned, the "arts community" actively suppresses, or seeks to appropriate and corrupt, any non-LDP art. Their
family, not yours, is all and only! They revile that which birthed and nurtured them, and us who represent the communities they have forsaken.