Finality

I'm not entirely sure what to do with myself.

This is more than likely the last time I will write in this apartment.  Oh, I might make some notes here and there over the few days we're still here, but as far as actually sitting down at my computer and writing, this is probably it.

Given that writing has ultimately dominated my life, and that I am, by my very nature, melodramatic, this all seems very important.  Since that's the case, I'm having trouble deciding what, exactly, it would be appropriate for me to write tonight.

Right now I'm downloading episodes of MTV: Unplugged.  This is mostly due to the the 20th anniversary of the release of Nirvana's "Nevermind."  I spent the weekend listening to Nirvana's entire library which, of course, involved their "Unplugged" session.  And it made me wonder if I actually had digital copies of all the episodes of "Unplugged" that I had watched back in the day.

Turns out, the only one I have is by Pearl Jam.  So I went digging for R.E.M.  And then Soul Asylum.  And that's what I'm doing right now.

For the record, the unplugged version of "Somebody to Shove" is pretty sweet.

I have a couple of short stories and at least one book in the works.  But apparently I've decided that the best way to leave this apartment is by blogging.  I can't argue with that.

I mentioned to Nicole earlier that it looks like we just moved in.  There's nothing on the walls.  The shelves are empty.  All but the essential clothes and kitchenware have been packed away.  The cats are thrilled to have so much space in the closet to sleep, not knowing that it's a precursor to days of torture for them as we drive them six hours north and introduce them to a new home.

My normally cluttered desk is disconcertingly clean, save for a small stack of paper, my headphones and MP3 player, some bills, my wrist braces (which I should be wearing) and my Cleveland Indians hat.

Now I'm really digging this R.E.M. unplugged.  Lord knows I could devote an entire blog to this band, now that they've called it quits.  That reminds me that I should e-mail my brother, which in turn reminds me that I should e-mail my grandmother, not to mention my parents.

I have a strange affection for endings, made all the more stranger by the fact that I have such a hard time coming up with them.  These are important moments.  This is the time to take stock, the time for quiet reflection.  Ending a chapter means starting a new one and I am a fan of both.

I think I'm going to go work on that book now.  I should probably go out the way I came in: fighting the good fight.

And so it begins...

Los Angeles Part 5: Why You'd Want to Live Here

Somehow, when I wasn't pay attention, Los Angeles endeared itself to me.  This has been something of a shock.

There was a point, roughly two years in to my stay, that I thought about moving.  I'd spent two years in Atlanta before heading west, so two years seemed to be a good run for a city.  Besides, I'd always felt some kind of strange kinship to the Pacific Northwest.  I began doing research on moving to Seattle.

Then I met Nicole, and since Nicole works in the entertainment industry, she needed to stay here, so I stayed here.

Strangely enough, over the next seven years I found a lot to really like about this city, and even a few things to love.  Oh, I'm not saying I didn't find plenty of reasons to dislike living here, because anyone who tells you they love everything about Los Angeles is a filthy liar.  But I'll admit that I've grown surprisingly attached to this town, and for the strangest reasons.

For example, there's something appealing about living in a city whose baseline creative output can best be described as below average.  I'm not saying there aren't some works of genius coming out of the City of Angels, but let's face facts: Hollywood generally produces crap.  And it all comes from Hollywood.  The television shows, the movies, and the books by celebrities or people who know celebrities -- it all comes from the same place.  But the fact that this town regularly produces awful material is oddly comforting, as if the bar is so low that someone like me can jump it.

There's also something appealing about living in a town that exists to monetize creativity.  I realize that might sound awful, but ask anyone who engages in any kind of artistic endeavor, and they will tell you that actually making money from what they do seems incredibly daunting.  And I know that there are a lot of sharks in the water in Los Angeles, but there's also a system in place, a mechanism that can take a project and find a way for people to pay for it.

Combine those first two points and you have a city where you can come up with a really crappy idea and make a ton of money off of it.  It really lends itself to a rags to riches fantasy.  Because of this, of course, everyone and their dog walker has an idea, a screenplay, or a head shot.  The disregard for quality by much of Los Angeles is counteracted by the sheer volume of people trying to cash in.  In fact, if I lived in any other city, I would probably be less hesitant to refer to myself as a writer, but here I don't like the connotations that such a title brings with it.

There's an entire class of people here that are "creative professionals," a title that baffles me because I have a hard time reconciling that those two ideas are compatible.  I suppose this is more a reflection of my own creative process than anything else, but still.  To live in a place where you're surrounded by people who make a living being creative (regardless of how good or bad what they create might be) is pretty exciting.

And, honestly, living among such a diverse group of people is just as exciting.  Our building is made up almost entirely of twentysomethings and older Russians.  I've interacted with the people from dozens of different countries, endless background, and various orientations, socioeconomic statuses, and political views.  I have never lived in a place as diverse as Los Angeles and I doubt I will ever live anywhere that comes close to matching it.

Combine those last two points with the constant rhythm of this city, the drunks stumbling down side streets when the bars close, the ghetto bird shining its light down upon as, the parades for pretty much any occasion, even the crazy homeless people who yell inspired, otherworldly poetry as I walk past them.  Los Angeles is sensory overload of the best kind -- the kind that makes you want to create.

These are the things that I will miss about Los Angeles itself, at the least in the broadest terms.  I'm sure the specifics will come out in the near future.

Dude, What the Hell?

Where oh where have my regular blog updates gone?  The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind.

Aside from being out of town for the holiday weekend, I have a surprising amount of non-paying writing to do.  I'm also suddenly busy at work, which cuts down on how much I can get done during the day.

So what the heck am I doing with myself?

Well, in a week or two the "Unrequited" eBook will be available pretty much everywhere.  I will, of course, keep you posted on that one.

I'm preparing for a virtual book tour.  Basically, a bunch of blogs that do book reviews are going to post reviews of "Pray" on specific days.  Some of them also ask for guest columns by yours truly and possibly interviews to boot.  So that's a whole thing, as you can probably imagine.

And I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I've been more involved with writing about comics.  I've met a few nice, talented creators recently who have been so nice as to show me some work in advance and ask for my comments.  I've also been chosen to co-write the What Looks Good column on Comics Bulletin which I'm really excited to do.  It's a new venue for my comic book ranting and raving!

I've got this other thing which I've been making mysterious comments about that isn't a HUGE deal, but is incredibly appropriate for me.  I'm sure I could probably talk about it, but I'm waiting until everything is signed off on so I don't jinx it.

Also, it's short story season once again!  The vast majority of literary journals are connected to universities in some way, shape, or form, so September 1st has become the defacto start of short story season, when schools are back in session and accepting submissions.  Given that I've had nearly as much success getting short stories published as I have getting books published, this is always a challenge for me.  So it's re-write and submit over and over again.

Finally, there's the new book I'm currently working on, which requires more world building than anything I've ever written before and, in turn, is really slow going.  It's difficult, because I know this book can be great, to the point where I'm almost scared I'm going to fail it.

Needless to say, all of this has left me little time for blogging, but I'm going to try to get back to it.  And, today's my Friday, so I should have time, yes?