I Think Zombies are Ridiculous But….

I’m addicted to a little show called “The Walking Dead.” So remember the billion times I’ve said “never say never?” Yeah, well this is why. You just never know what will happen on down the road. Zombie apocalypses are highly improbable, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t fun.

Up to a few months ago, zombie stories seemed ridiculous to me. The very idea is just so implausible I can’t wrap my brain around it enough to enjoy the read. Then Courtney is all “There’s this zombie apocalypse show on Netflix called The Walking Dead and it’s awesome.” And I was all, “Mmm…I’m sure it is.” In my head I was thinking, oh great, now my kid is a stupid zombie fan. What has this world come to?

Although I dreaded enduring the damn show, I thought I better watch it to make sure there was nothing that would be inappropriate for her to be watching. So off to Netflix I went and I watched the stupid zombie show.

And I loved it.

Now a warning: Most parents may not feel this show is the best show for their teen to watch. There’s a lot of nasty grossness involved. No graphic sex or profanity, so far, but a lot of zombies eating people and innards hanging out. Yeah, disgusting but not…HBO. However, some of the “situations” are thought-provoking and can inspire some interesting discussions. I leave that with you. This parent lets her child watch it and we talk about it. So, there you have it.

Okay, that’s out of the way. So in the second season, a kid gets hurt and they have an interesting discussion. Do they save him or let him die? Of course you’re all like “Save him, of course!” but their situation is not so simple. You see, the world is turning into zombies. There are still people left, but they’re dropping like flies and both adults and kids live every hour, every minute, terrified that they’ll be next. So, is it best to let the child go knowing the fight is finally over for him, or do you save him, and give him a shot at what might happen later?

Hard question. No. I don’t have an answer.

The zombies in the show are nasty and mostly pretty cliché monster fare, but they’re consistent. They walk in herds, are attracted to blood, noise and pretty shiny stuff. Kind of like humans, don’t you think?

Now and then I pause and say, “Jesus, why am I watching this?” when something retarded and overly dramatic happens, but there I sit, chewing my fingernails with my heart in my throat. So, the writers of the show must be doing something right, or perhaps my brain has zombified due to stress and I’m just connecting with my kin on the screen.

Does this mean I’ll try reading zombie fiction? Maybe. I have in the past with disappointing results, but this show proves that the right writer can make all the difference in the world, so I might pick up something if I’m suitably tempted. Any recommendations?

What’s my point anyway? I always have a point. Well I do. I challenge you to read a genre that is something you’ve decided you hated. Not recently hated, but say a genre you long ago swore off because it didn’t appeal to you, pick up something like that. Ask friends for recommendations, blog about it like I am. The thing is, I think to say you’ll never read a particular genre because a handful (hell even a truckload) of writers failed to impress you is really only hurting yourself. If I’d decided that my hatred of zombie fiction was too strong, I’d never have found this kickass show, nor would I have had some really deep and sometimes funny discussions with my daughter.

Let us know if you do try something new, even if it takes you up shit creek again.

How to Procrastinate Like a Pro

I am the queen of procrastination. Not just in writing, but in every area of my life that requires me to stop fucking around and get to work. If there were an award for procrastination, I’d be the unbeaten champion. Why do I procrastinate so much? I work best under pressure. I am more productive when I have no time to do what it is I need to do. I don’t know why. It’s just how I roll.

For all you hard workers out there who haven’t a clue what I’m talking about, procrastination is when you put off till tomorrow what you could do today. Why? Hell, I don’t know why you put it off. Because you don’t feel like doing it? It doesn’t really matter why. It only matters that you do it. What you might not know is that there is some creative and psychological payoff in procrastination. Seriously.

Procrastination Pro Tip: For every procrastinator worthy of the title “professional” the making of lists is key. Lots of lists. These are well-intentioned because you definitely mean to get this shit done. The act of making the list is procrastination in itself. You know damn well what you’re doing. Don’t deny it. Once the lists are made, promptly lose them, so that later, when you’re getting ready to get shit done, you can procrastinate by searching for the list of what you need to do.

So the dirty dishes are piling up and the toilet is hiding a gelatinous blob of something from another planet, and maybe you’re on your last pair of clean underwear. You could set the laptop down and get it, I mean you’re not doing anything but perusing LitReactor and updating your Pinterest board after all, but they’ll be there tomorrow. The only time I worry about dishes is when I’ve run out of coffee mugs to be honest. Underwear isn’t a necessity. Going commando is in right now. And the toilet? Until the blob actually moves, it’s really not a concern. It’s more important for you to run that idea round in your head while mindlessly flitting around the Internet. How else will it come to fruition in the form of an outline?

Procrastination Pro Tip: Eat takeout on paper plates using plastic cutlery. No dishes. See? Perfect. Oh and dump a bottle of bleach in the toilet once a week. Alien blobs of fecal matter and whatnot hate bleach, and you can put off cleaning for another week.

Another important part of being a pro at procrastination is putting off organizing anything in your home that doesn’t benefit you immediately. So, piles of shit in the corners can stay there indefinitely as long as there’s no organic matter like last night’s pizza in there. Besides, you can practice your ninja skills by navigating your way over and around them. And we all know how handy ninja skills can be. Got piles of books on the floor, the table and in your closet? They’re inspiration. Leave them be. Papers, notes, bills, etc. are best left in the mess you first buried them in. You know damn well if you try to straighten that shit, you’re going to forget what you did with it when you really need it. A controlled chaos makes finding things easier, and also, sometimes a happy accident occurs and you find something you forgot you had. Just the other day, I found a book I’d scribbled some notes in about a story idea. It was in a pile of sheets and stuff in my “linen closet.” I was so excited that I bunched the sheets back into their precarious perch on the cluttered shelves and ran out to flesh out the idea.

Procrastination Pro Tip: Pay your bills online. This way, you don’t have to leave the house, which might prompt you to actually…ugh…run errands.

When editing is getting you down, don’t be afraid to take a short break on Twitter to cope with the stress of the utter shit you can’t believe you wrote. You can’t edit when you’re stressed or sad. Don’t even try. Besides, Twitter is part of the author platform. You’ve gotta tweet to be noticed, right? Just tweet your heart out, then go back to the document after you climb out of the black hole that is Twitter, and you’ll have the stamina to edit at least another paragraph. When you’re done those five or six lines, pat yourself on the back, close the file, and grab that book that’s winking at you. A paragraph edited is better than cutting your wrists out of sheer desperation. Am I right?

Procrastination Pro Tip: Reading is not procrastinating as long as you’re making note of what the writer did right or wrong. It’s actually working, if you really break it down and contort it to work in your favor. Reading helps you improve your writing. When you’re done, you’ll be that much better at what you do so you can edit or write that brilliant bit of prose with confidence.

Procrastinators seem to get invited to shit a lot. It’s ridiculous really. I mean, they know you’ve got a backlog of work, and yet, they invite you to NOT do it. Trying to sabotage you, that’s what.

Going outside is hard. Going out and socializing is harder. But friends and family get all weird and shit when you try to say no to an invitation, so here’s what you do: Hedge a little. Maybe say, “Oh I don’t see why not. I’ll see what (insert name of person you pretend has authority in your life here) is up to and I’ll let you know. Probably.” So you’re not technically committed. Those of you who are stupid enough to get caught up on the “my word is law” rule can breathe easier knowing that you never said you “would” go, just that you “might.” Then, at the last minute, get off the couch, pull up your soiled underwear and text or email them. Do. Not. Call. Them. Jesus, are you mental? Calling gives them the opportunity to guilt you with their “tone.” Don’t ever do that. Make up an excuse. You’re sick. Your significant other is an asshole. The dog has worms. Little Johnny got hit by a car. Whatever. Then, turn off your phone and lock the doors. Socialization averted. You can safely go back to watching True Blood reruns while contemplating trying your hand at paranormal erotica because Alexander Skarsgard’s ass is just so inspirational.  

Procrastination Pro Tip: By cancelling social outings and such at the last minute, you’re forcing your brain to be creative in coming up with an excuse. Over time, you get better and better, to the point that you can concoct almost anything. Always a useful skill for a writer.

Now, no writer ever gets better if she avoids writing all the time. It’s something we can’t afford to procrastinate about indefinitely. If you don’t write, well then you’re…not a writer. Am I right? Of course I am. But don’t feel as though you must be a slave to the blank page. Go ahead and turn on the Playstation or the Wii. Playing video games—particularly asshole games that make no sense and are fixed so that you can never beat the fuckers—improves your ability to convey emotion in your writing. How will you write it if you haven’t experienced it? Exactly. Think of the emotions you’ll feel: Guilt for turning on the game when you know you should be writing. Rage at your inability to press the right combination of fucking buttons. Despair when that deadline looms and yet you’re almost past level 7, and damn it, you’ve never made it to level 7 in your whole life. Panic when you realize it’s midnight and those edits are due back to your editor at 8am the next morning so you turn on the coffee maker and freak the fuck out. Ambivalence when you’re so goddamn exhausted because you stayed up all night to write something after your social networking ran a little astray, so you’re not really caring that the dog shit in the closet or that the cat shredded all the toilet paper in the house. Exhilaration when you manage to accomplish those edits despite your gaming marathon because you’ve got sleep licked. You don’t need that mortal shit no more.  You are a writing god.

Procrastinator Pro Tip: Never lack for tools of procrastination. It’s the worst feeling in the world when you want to do anything but write, clean, work, etc. but there’s no other option. Television, books, phones, Internet and even a nice cozy bed are all necessary tools for effective procrastination. You’ll need a mixture, because sometimes, you might want to procrastinate on how you’ll procrastinate, and to do that, you need options.

Also, your blog is the perfect pit of procrastination. In writing this post, for example, I put off showering, eating, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, writing assigned articles, and peeing. I am a professional. You can be one too if you tried less.

On Humor and Being Funny

I can make people laugh. I know this. I’ve seen evidence when my friends are all “Stop!” or “Have another beer!” because booze apparently makes me a downright fucking riot. I’ve seen it on my blog, on OFW, and in the feedback I get on my writing. I’m funny. But here’s the problem: I don’t know why.

Seriously, I don’t know what it is I’m doing that’s so damn funny, aside from being honest. I don’t try to be humorous, not consciously anyway, but somehow, people laugh at what I say and do. It’s a little unnerving to be honest. I’ve often been told I should write humor. Just humor. Nothing else. The advice is coming from a good place, and I’d like to introduce myself as a humorist or a comedian, but my gut says “Oh no, sweetheart. That’s a bad idea. You are not that funny.” And also, I like being serious from time to time, and I like books that have something to say. Funny doesn’t always do that.

And I am not so funny I could make a career out of it. Things come out of my mouth that, in my head sound very intelligent and not humorous, but once they’re out someone laughs and I nearly shit myself in shock. Sometimes, when I’m supposed to be sleeping, I’ll go over something I said and try to deconstruct it to find the funny. I never succeed in this endeavor and then I’m tired and cranky in the morning because I wasted valuable sleep time in my extremely self-absorbed ponderings.

If I don’t know why I’m funny, or what it is about my writing that’s making you all laugh, how can I sit down to make that a goal? Does any comedian know why they’re funny? Am I simply normal in that I’m shocked when people are like “God, you’re hilarious.” Should I be more like, “Of course I am you puny unfunny jackass.” What is the etiquette among comedians? Do you mention the funny or not? Do you act humble? I’m horrible at etiquette.

A friend said the other day that I write satire. I quickly Googled it. I have a grasp of what the word means, just not how it relates to writing, so shut it.

Satire, as a literary genre, takes depravities, idiocies, abuses, shortcomings, etc. and holds them up to ridicule, ideally with the intent of shaming individuals, groups, or society itself, into improvement.

A common feature of satire is irony or sarcasm. (I am good at sarcasm, although its effectiveness is rather hit and miss.) Parody, imitation, exaggeration, comparison, analogy, and double entendre are also frequently used in satirical writing. With satire the writer strives to first make people laugh, and while they’re caught off guard, you then force them to think.

Hmm. Is that what I do? Yes. I want to make people think. I’ve learned that coming out with both barrels locked and loaded is not the way to do that. In life, I’ve often coated my opinions and whatnot in sarcasm and humor to make what I’m saying more palatable to the recipient. Unless of course they’re fucknuts, then I coat nothing. You’re an asshole. No joke. No sugar-coating. That’s how I roll.

But still, I don’t dare call myself funny or comedic. I think perhaps because comedy is an art that I’ve always enjoyed, respected and in some cases revered, I can’t put myself in that position and feel as though I belong. Comedians have a special skill. It’s damn hard to make people laugh. Sure, we can all make someone laugh, but thousands? Pfft. Good luck, Chuck. Not gonna happen. It’s a rare person who can tickle the world’s funny bone. I am not that person.

So how do I apply my small comedic tendencies to my writing? Should I start focusing consciously on writing satire? Should I try to make you all laugh? Do I go and research that which is funny and try to apply this knowledge when I write? (You know I’ve already done that, right?) Or do I just keep trucking the way I always do and label whatever results whichever way seems right?

I know, the question of whether or not I should write humor…or already do write humor, shouldn’t be so difficult to answer, but it is. If I were to write “Satire” in a query letter, would that get a snort and a delete? If I leave it out, am I being inaccurate and thus ruining my odds of getting a request for the manuscript. What if you people are the only people who think I’m funny? Not that I’m assuming every one of you thinks I’m funny. I mean, some of you probably think I’m annoying as shit, and the only reason you still follow this blog is because like me, you haven’t figured out Blogger’s magical formula for unfollowing a blog.

I. Don’t. Know.

So I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing, and we’ll see what happens I guess. What about you? Did you know the genre you should write in straight off? Or did it take some experimentation to figure it out? If so, were you surprised at the results?