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some old bullshit

I Love Writing

I really do. Always have done. Wanna hear about the process? Sure you do.

I was mowing the lawn. See, I don’t sit down and think of something to write. That never works. I’m mowing the lawn and I think of something. Not something to write, just something. A phrase or word or scenario or a sound or just something that is something. I think of something and I know it’s a thing.

An example. I thought of a literary battle between me and the other short story writing bohemoth, BJ NOVAK. It was just a thought. Be funny to have a literary battle in front of a crowd. It wasn’t a great Idea, if I’m honest, but I didn’t ask for it. Anyway, the initial idea isn’t important because it’s just a reason to start a story. The thing might never end up in the story. But it’s something. You’ve gotta have something.

So I’ve thought of something, that’s good. Something that’s a thing. A thing that could lead to writing. So I go and write it immediately, right? Before I forget? No. I don’t do that, the opposite in fact, I just stop thinking about it. That’s the process. I don’t want to know what happens yet, not before I’ve written it. If I knew how it was going to end up I wouldn’t write it, where would the fun in that be? Sure, I might forget it completely but I might not. That’s the risk. I keep mowing the lawn, the shitty, patchy fucked up lawn but later on I’ve got half an hour. I haven’t completely forgotten about me and BJ Novak going at it. That’s good. I haven’t been thinking about it, either, but I haven’t forgotten it or thought it’s a completely worthless idea. It’s stuck. That means it’s got a chance. I fire up the computer. I’m not sure what’s going to happen. Is it going to happen at all? I’m kinda of stressed. Nervous. I just don’t know if I can do it. Like before I go for a run. Before I go for a run I’m never sure I’ll be able to do it. When I can run I’m always a bit surprised. It’s the same feeling.

Where do I start?

Well, I’ve got to interact with BJ Novak in the story no matter what happens. So I’ll write about how I approached him and somehow we’ll get into a battle. I don’t know how yet. Wanna keep it nice and short so let’s start there! Interacting.

“How do you clean your floor?”

Where the hell did that come from? It’s good though, a bad joke. Sets me up as being a dick immediately. Nice start, this might go somewhere. We’re at a party, so obviously BJ will have somebody with him. I can see the room. It’s pretty dark but I don’t feel the need to mention it. People can imagine a literary thing. I’ll have somebody with me. Carol. Man, she’s ugly. Poor Carol, I’m horrible to her but on the upside things are going well. BJ’s being polite but I’m being a dick. I’m always the dick. How the heck is this going to turn into a sort of rap battle but with short story writing? I hope it does. I’ll find out when I get there. I’m still bothering BJ. Trying to wind him up so he instigates it in a way that isn’t stupid. Come on BJ! Instigate a battle! Hmmm, it’s tricky, it’s not really happening so instead I have BJ just sort of demanding one. Out of the blue almost. I can’t really explain why such a preposterous thing is happening. I hate that but if the rest of it is just slightly absurd without being ridiculous it might work. I’m not convinced though. It’s going a bit stupid. Need to funny it up. And to top it off now I’ve set myself up as writing another story. In the story. I’ll need two stories. Jesus. That one about Goldilocks I keep trying to rewrite without success? Is this its time? No because I’m kind of writing this story now and I’m never going to be able to think of another one. I only had one idea, this one, and this one’s half-baked. Maybe I’ll think of something as I’m writing about how long my computer is taking to come on. And BJ is writing a story too. Haven’t mentioned him for a while. I’ll say something about the people behind him. God knows what his story is going to be. I’m still writing about the computer that won’t come on. Shit, there’s a referee. That makes sense. Gotta be a time limit and that helps me out because this is going nowhere fast. Fuck it, as soon as the computer comes on I’m going to have it go off. Mine does, if it’s not plugged in. It’s real life, baby, but it’s also deeply unsatisfying. At least I don’t have to finish the Goldilocks one this way because I haven’t thought of a thing for that one. I hate this story. Leave it as a draft? Give it a few more lines.

Ha, it went off, the computer, now I’m fucked. And Novak’s finished. What now? Am I going to have to write a story for BJ Novak too? No chance. Couldn’t even write one for me. This isn’t going anywhere. Ah, I’ll see how it ends. Save it as a draft and then maybe fix it one day. There were a couple of good bits but it’s turned well stupid and I can’t end this. They love Novak’s story, the crowd, of course, because I’m always the dick in these stories. Be weird if I won. What did he write anyway? It’d be on the floor, he’s been carried out. I know, I’ll just put that he wrote this thing, be kinda post modern. Cut and paste a bit of the first bit and… fuck it, that’ll do.

Now to go back through it and tidy it up. Justify the text. Try and spot as many of the typos as I can…

There are good bits in it but the ending was a bit lame. The actual battle wasn’t as exciting as I’d hoped either. Wanted more interaction between me and Novak. I kinda lost him in the second half. Ah, shall I post it? Fuck it, I’ll post it but date it a few days ago so it appears further down the page. Not make a big deal about it. Yeah, posted it. Is it any good? It kinda hangs together. Does it? I’ll text Simon with the link. The chant of Write Write Write Write was good. It was probably on The Simpsons.

Shit, he hasn’t replied.

He normally replies pretty quickly. He’s trying to find something nice to say about it.

Fuck.

Why did I write that?

Shit, he’s replied. I look at the text message ready to reply that I was only joking and that I know it was shit. Hold the phone! He loves it! He thinks the ending was clever!  What a dickhead! Yeah, it was pretty good, wasn’t it. It was good. I read it again and this time I like it. Find a few more typos. Heh, it’s pretty funny! Yeah, I get told I shouldn’t laugh at my own stuff. Why not? It’s just like enjoying a sandwich you’ve made. Is that wrong? To enjoy a sandwich you’ve made? Fuck no. You wouldn’t make a sandwich you didn’t like, that would be mad. I read it again on my phone and spot a few more typos. I can only see typos when I read it on my phone.