Gallant is about a quarter of the way finished. It’s over five thousand words long so far, which means that this story may unseat Dallas as the highest word count short story so far. Dallas was almost sixteen thousand words, and by definition, that makes it a novella, not a short story. However, in my haste to get some trusted opinions on the work done so far, I handed it off to my two roommates. One of them liked it, but the other had probelsm trying to identify a major plot point. As a writer, not properly expressing a major plot point is not necessarily considered to be good. In fact, that’s really bad. And when questioned, it turns out the other roommate did not get it either. I had to actually explain the point, and then suddenly it all made sense to them. Unfortunately, this has put something of a major dent in my writing, because now I’m perplexed on how to properly illustrate in a subtle fashion without giving it away or spelling it out for the reader. But it seems that I may actually have to write out exactly what happens so I don’t completely lose the reader, because if they don’t get it, they might as well stop reading altogether and move to someone else’s story.

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Last week, I faced down something I have not faced down in a really long time: a threat to end a life. Now, for those of you who know me well enough to remember, I really dislike it when others, in a very serious vein, start showing a complete disregard for others’ lives as well as their own. Talk about suicide and depression really get me going on the overall value of life in general. I can accept a certain level of humor about death, but when the reality of someone talking about just ending it is understood, then it’s no laughing matter. I don’t think I’ve met a single person who doesn’t feel similiarly. With that said, let’s talk about people who say they’re going to commit suicide, get people involved, only to find out it was just a cry for attention.

I have no respect for anyone who plays with people’s emotions like that. I was in a position to witness the amount of pain caused, the tears shed over this possibility and the subsequent depression that comes along with hearing one of your friends go off somewhere and actually count down to their own demise, then turn around and play as if it were a joke. This is no joke, when I’m having to comfort someone else because of their utter thoughtless and inconsiderate behavior to such a degree. It’s one thing to be standing over a ledge, but it’s entirely another when you’ve convinced someone online that you’re going to end your life over a really stupid reason, and they’re now trying everything possible to prevent it. And all this person did was to call attention to himself to see who cares about him enough to stop him… that is just bullshit.

He hasn’t even bothered to apologize for his actions. Is it no wonder I treat him with complete disrespect?

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There’s been something of a deluge of web-based comics out there lately. It used to be really cool when it was just UserFriendly and perhaps only a handful of others. And I recall exactly how cool it was to read Megatokyo for the first time ever waaaay back in the day. But then you suddenly had these utter craptacular excuses for webcomics like Okashina Okashi and that one comic that looks like Colorforms mutilated by crayolas and made to dance around for the barest minimum amusement. Or, you have these really awesome story-based comics like Avalon or Cool Cat Studio, only to find out that either the artist is incredibly lazy or plays tortured artist and gives up. My wrath knew no bounds when Legace gave up Cool Cat Studio, I was so disappointed by the sudden lack of weird sexual tension between seven people working at an art design company that I about stopped reading web comics altogether. I know it sounds ridiculous, but when one gets used to reading deep threads like that, one cannot help but start to form emotional attachments to it. I guess that’s why I love romantic comedies or just romantic stories in general.

I still read UserFriendly and Megatokyo religiously, as well as Angst Technology. And then there are my guilty pleasure comics, like Sinfest, Sexy Losers (formerly known as the Thin H Line), and now Something Positive. I caught the URL on AnimeMUCK in the Abcb from Ukyo, who just mentioned that she thought that day’s installment was rather amusing. And I have to say that going through every comic in the archive has given me new hope for the future of web comics and the quality of material. Finally, we have a no-holds-barred social comic that literally fucks with you. Sexy Losers tends to do that, but you kind of have to admit that it’s not as subtle as the humor in Something Positive. SP will not only own you, but if you’ve got problems with laughing at the twisted humor that has so far resulted in a pink boneless skinless cat, and a naked midget… then don’t go read this comic. Otherwise, I suggest you put aside a couple of days to read through the mini threads and the one shots, and simply have a good time.

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It is a truth universally acknowledged, that if one smacks his head against the brick wall of writers’ block, he or she should take a break from writing until the muse returns in full force. Otherwise, writing is much like pulling teeth without the use of the proper instruments or anesthetic; incredibly slow and painful. I had been pouring myself into the project of The Quarterdeck Breed, and for four parts, it seemed as if my muse had vanished. It could have had something to do with the approaching holiday season, or perhaps some other personal distraction that I was pulled away from the keyboard so often and just was unable to realy put my heart into my writing. Part Five (Excelsior) was beginning to turn out like the above ill-advised dental procedure, and so I started working on Part Six (Fearless). Getting into the various mindset for each character and situation was beginning to take its toll on me, and the time I thought I had to put into the writing began to evaoprate through December, when I suffered from a bout of tonsillitis. But then, as I was looking through my hard drive and searching some of my older stories that had been left behind in my pursuit through The Quarterdeck Breed, I came upon a half-written short story about a Defiant-class corvette that had lost its captain in the first four paragraphs. It was called Untitled #16, and I knew right then and there that I had found my Part Seven (Gallant). I know it may seem a little odd to work on Part Seven before Part Five, but the truth is that this story is beginning to write itself. I love it when stories write itself, the characters speak and I just put it all down on paper for others to read. That’s how the end of January McKenna came through and it is also how The Face of the Smiling Vulcan began and ended, without a single rewrite or edit. When the wrods flow out of me like blood and splatter into a coherent story… that’s just awesome.

Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. Where in the hell have I been for the past two months? There have been no journal entires since the end of November, and here we are clear into the middle of January without so much as a few phrases of what’s going on. In the middle of November, I sort of started getting myself into a complete contradiction of my New Year’s Resolutions, specifically resolution number five. I beleive that it’s a part of Murphy’s Law, that once you resolve to avoid emotional entanglements, they tend to find you. Perhaps it’s something about the confidence one projects when he or she decides that they don’t need a significant other in order to be happy. I do not honestly know what it could be. Point is that a rather remarkable young woman of my friendship made herself known to me in a more emotional light through not-so-subtle means, and after some soul searching and weighing the risk, I decided that… what the hell. You really only live once, and I’m just not going to play hide-in-my-shell simply because I’ve had some pretty rough relationships in the past. The whole point at experiencing that kind of pain is to make you stronger and to try and not make the same mistakes that you did before. Now, things aren’t really perfect, but I’m enjoying a bit more confidence than I had in the past. I will say that I’m definitely happier than I have been in a long time, and that’s all that matters.

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