That's me for you

It's weird. I am prolly the only guy who loves cooking, writing, calculating, filming, editing, computing, socializing, hiking & camping, scientifically researching, and religious pursuits. I have sooooo many things that I just love. I spent the last hour looking at recipes. I have a blog. I (I can't believe I am about to say this) sometimes enjoy math. I not only love filming/directing, I love studying from the greats. I get in a mode when I edit and I do things I never thought possible. I love computers (I know that isn't what computing means) and I could not imagine what would replace their spot in my heart if they were to just disappear off the face of the earth. I am a social tornado. I am no social butterfly because really that would mean I am graceful. More like a social duck. I am a social duck, but I love it. I have spent so much time living outdoors that I am just as comfortable sleeping in a windstorm as I am in my bed (though the bed is a lot less of a challenge). Then hiking…well if I loved hiking any more I would prolly have to drop out of school to satisfy my needs. I love science. Biology is my pride. Biotechnology is my favorite. I spend my free time pondering stuff like this. When I become famous for my writing, it will be a science fiction novel (then of course I will become famous for directing the film based on my book). Lastly, I have my religion, which is my life. Really, I love studying to become a missionary, which is what I will prolly do once I finish this post. That is what W.R. Duclos means.

 

To keep me going

I got some good quotes that keep me writing. like: 

"You fail only if you stop writing."-Ray Bradbury

That one is hanging in my room. Or:

"If there is a magic in story writing, and I am convinced there is, no one has ever been able to reduce it to a recipe that can be passed from one person to another. The formula seems to lie solely in the aching urge of the writer to convey something he feels important to the reader. If the writer has that urge, he may sometimes, but by no means always, find the way to do it. You must perceive the excellence that makes a good story good or the errors that makes a bad story. For a bad story is only an ineffective story.”-John Steinbeck

One more:

"Write freely and as rapidly as possible and throw the whole thing on paper. Never correct or rewrite until the whole thing is down. Rewrite in process is usually found to be an excuse for not going on. It also interferes with flow and rhythm which can only come from a kind of unconscious association with the material."-John Steinbeck

The best part is that it's like John Steinbeck and Ray Bradbury are telling me things that they've learned by being professionals and I already knew them. Makes me feel giddy. I mean manly.

Well I meet a person

I was asked to Morp two days before. I am the last minute option, apparently. I also hardly knew the girl that asked me. But I said yes because Megan Francis had already ruined my plans for the night by asking Trevor to Morp. That is how I met Sadie Dodson.
She is a spaz, sure. She thinks that the host of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire is the one who makes the questions. She also quoted everything possible in her graduation speech. She drew a picture of me (which is basically not the only reason I feel compelled to write this).
No but for realz, she is pretty great. I was peeved when we became friends because it was like two weeks ago and now she is graduated. Which really sucks. It was a good few days together and Morp was pretty amazing. You're jealous now. Sorry for having good friends.

She drew this. Pretty great, neh?

Also, I updated my book because, let's be real, the additions I made into my second edition at three in the morning was filled with typos and grammar errors and stupid things. I like this one better.

It's about time

Well, I have put it off long enough. I don't have any excuses. I really didn't want to put it off, but I ended up doing so. Without many more words, here is the beginning of my first novel:

IT WAS exactly 3:02:00 AM when James Campbell died. He was only twenty-eight when his schedule was through. He needed it, in the long run. He didn’t have family, really, and his friends were just as existent. At least he would get a unique way to go, rather than something depressing like an illness or something boring like a plane crash. No, he was about to go out with a bang, so to speak, because it was 2:59:00 AM and the timeline had a great ending written. Well, before someone changed it, anyway.

James, or Jim, was born in the backroads of Georgia, but he never considered that his home. His parents never cared for them while they were alive, so he was lucky he was only a few months old when they were tried and executed for first degree murder. He entered an orphanage and lived in the home of Henry Townshed, an elderly gentleman living in Glennville, Georgia, until he reached the age of eighteen. Mr. Townshed, Jim just called him Henry, raised twelve children over the course of Jim’s childhood. There wasn’t much order in the home, but for the most part the children behaved themselves. They all appreciated Henry’s kindness. 

Jim never really bothered with schooling. He studied books from the public library rather than going to the local high school. It wasn’t that he didn’t like learning, he simply found it too simple. It was hard for him to be stimulated by formulas he had memorized years before. Jim didn’t have any friends that he knew of. He mostly kept himself private from the world and the world let him be. While most late teen boys were looking forward to their careers, Jim really couldn’t feel interested in any one thing. His mind was too comprehending to be entertained by the careers that most longed for. Plus, without a high school diploma, he knew no college would give him the time of day.

He left the town of Glennville to find something. He never really had a plan and didn’t want to do something he knew he wouldn’t enjoy. So Jim travelled from city to city, doing odd jobs here and there for whatever cash people could spare. He lived in a world where the only constants were himself and the road before him.

His life seemed to be the world he had been in for ten years now: walk, take a bus, or hitchhike to the next town, get enough money for food and commodities, then continue on. Jim couldn’t settle. His world was simple. He knew what would happen. That is, until 3:01 AM.

It wasn’t uncommon for Jim to find himself running or jogging with nowhere to go other than forward. In the early morning hours where he couldn’t sleep, he would just continue on. That morning Jim was among the blue ridge mountains over near Tennessee. The mid-January cold hardly bothered him as the sky started a wet snow. On the road ahead of him was a large group of deer, but Jim wasn’t a threat to them. They could tell he was no threat to them. He was simply another deer as far as they were concerned. Jim stopped twenty five yards away to watch the majestic creatures move almost aimlessly, which of course, was right in line with the timeline.

* * *

Grant Ewell was going for a record. Grant wanted more than anything to get the tanker of gasoline to it’s destination and get home. His anniversary was only two days away and he still had to get to Washington D.C. before he could get back home to Nashville. He had driven through the night the day previously and was starting to do it again.  The longest for driving without sleep was 42 hours straight. So he was shooting to break that, not because he wanted to, but because he had to if he didn’t want his wife yapping at him for the next year. However, breaking the record wasn’t going to happen tonight. It was 3:00:56 AM when he realized he couldn’t drive anymore unless he got some sleep.

“Let’s just get around this corner before I pull over for the night,” he said aloud. It was helpful to him to talk out loud when sleep was threatening his mind. He had read that doing so would keep him alert. It didn’t work. He dosed off at 3:01:32 AM. The timeline was intact.

* * *

The snow picked up while Jim stood, watching and thinking. If he had a desk job, working nine to five, or even a job working on cars or something mechanical, this moment of sheer amazement would not happen. This was the best thing he could do with his life. Jim laughed out loud at his imagined picture of him being a telemarketer. It was just so far from his persona. The laugh frightened a few deer away. No, that wasn’t practical. He hadn’t laughed loud enough to scare that many, plus the ones that ran away were all the way on the other side of the herd. Something was wrong. Jim realized two moments too late. Around the bend came a tanker truck.

Grant awoke to the sound of broken deer under his tires, accompanied by the thuds they caused to the chassis. He had closed his eyes just before the turn. He was at an angle on the road, most certainly heading off the edge in seconds if he didn’t correct himself soon. Grant’s sleepless body mindlessly yanked the wheel to the left. The thoughtless actions resulted in the truck over correcting. Centripetal force threw the truck sideways, the wet snow lightening any friction the road would’ve caused. The truck, no less than fifty yards away from Jim, started rolling and then sliding, shooting sparks everywhere. 

Jim sprinted back from the accident but was hit from behind by something large enough to kill him, whether it be debris or animal. The instant the object touched him he knew something significant had happened. Not that he had much time to realize it before he banged his forehead on the paved road. The sky filled with flame and the mountains shook with the sudden explosion of the tanker of gasoline. Jim blacked out, his face in the asphalt, a large object pinning him down and crushing his abdomen. The last breath he would breath in this world was knocked out of him by the explosion that must certainly meant his death.

Yet it was 3:02:09 AM and Jim was still very alive. The timeline had been changed.

So that is the first chapter, fourth edition. I hope you enjoyed it. I updated it because the one I put on earlier had some sucky additions.

Near death and bird whispering

So after I went post happy Saturday, I went on a hike to my favorite area in the world, Indian Springs. Taft and I went up there. As we neared the spring, I noticed a rattler as big as my arm at its thickest point three feet from Taft and about a foot off the trail. Let us just say we booked it out of that area. So yeah, I came a foot away from almost certain death.
Today, I was trying to impress a girl (pretty far fetched, right?). Anyway, we started talking about the hummingbird feeder on my back porch. She was enthralled that the hummingbirds would stop flying to perch on the feeder. For some reason, this conversation reminded me of a story I was once told about my brother, Bob, and him holding a wild hummingbird. All I remember from the story is that he held his hand next to the feeder for a long time without moving and it landed on him. I hadn't much foresight as I said, "This will take a minute." I really didn't have any clue or even any hope that it would work. But sure enough, as the first hummingbird approached, it perched on my outstretched finger. I guess I am really impressive, but it really isn't a big deal. I didn't get a video and when I tried again for seven minutes while recording, I ended up with nothing. But I mean, ha. I am pretty proud of my ability to go headfirst into that. Good educated guess.
I will eventually continue writing the book that I am always thinking about on Friday. It just sucks because as the highest student in any of my teacher's English classes on the CRT (I aced it with 100%), it's hard to believe I have a C-. Actually it's not too hard when you know that my English teacher hates me. But we won't name names because I don't slander people.
School? Stupid. Next year will be better.
Also, this post has a lot of labels. It is just that everywhere.

First timer

For the first time in my life, while writing a paper, I cannot put down exactly what I am thinking. I mean seriously, I don't know what is wrong with me. It's like my mom not being able to cook amazing food or Shawn Spencer not being observant. It just doesn't, nor should not, happen. Weird.

Findings

Going through my past writings, I find that I usually hate what I have written in the way it is written because I now know better than I did then. But seriously, some of my posts are the funniest things I have read in a while. I just don't know why I'm not to this level yet (pardon the language, I think he's British, so maybe they are not really bad swears?).

I can be passive aggressive

I have an English teacher who I less than like. He told us to write a paper answering a question: How long does one wait before eating Peeps? He deeply implied that he wanted the focus to be patience, but he never expressed it, just implied it. I am such a snairch.

A Philosophical Journey Through and To Peeps

Throughout human history, man has strived for one thing above almost anything else: food. This quest, once it became a constant, transformed into a journey to find the most decadent flavors possible. Man found sugar, one of the most prized palette tantalizers ever to be consumed. Through thousands of years of refinement, mankind created a substance unbeknownst to the world: the marshmallow. A creature under extreme scrutiny, the lowly sugar confectionary sought a higher state of being. In the year of 1953 A.D, 1100 years after the birth of the marshmallow and 2800 years after the use of sugar in diets, the two products melded into one final definitive creation: Peeps. 

It has been stated that, although the candy Peeps is delicious in its own right, one must wait a certain amount of time to properly enjoy these heaven sent creations. To these soothsayers and concubines one must say, “Nay!” Since man first roamed the earth thousands of years ago, he has been striving for the ultimate of ultimates: the one delicacy to rule them all. Through the refiner’s fire only one treat has made it: Peeps. Why, therefore, should man wait another few days to enjoy the ambrosia that for so long stayed out of man’s reach? Who are we, the product of generations of struggling mortals, striving for this holy grail, who are we to hold our noses up for any longer than we must? In what world does this ignorance do justice to those who never had the opportunity to enjoy this manufactured goodness? Not the world where you would like to live. To the people who depreciate the value of instant sugar covered goodness, I say, “NO MORE!” We must immediately plunge into the heavenly velvet, the manna from heaven, in order to truly do justice to our ancestors. The instant that seal breaks, we must do more that sit idly by. We must take action. This is my plea. Amen.

Suckishness

Sorry this has been the most boring blog in the freaking world lately. I have not really had the time to write that I wish I had. For example, on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I was gone for fourteen hours. WIth the exception of 9 hours last night, I got a total of 15 hours of sleep. I have had math up the wazoo and it kind of sucks.

But I have had some good stuff in my life. I had an undying hatred for someone at the beginning of the week who I now love (not that I trust him, you can love somebody and still not trust them).  I also have been rocking it at work and tore apart more computers in two hours on Tuesday than I usually did all day when I started working there.

I also took a math test on Friday that I felt went really well. It was fun. Ha. Just kidding. Math is never fun. I made doughnuts (I don't like the other spelling, "donuts") from scratch on Monday. Devil's Food Cake and they were delicious.

I watched the edited version of IMDB's #10 highest rated film, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I have yet to finish it, but I really like it. Great acting, great cinematography, and great directing. Jack Nicholson is a visionary with some of the scenes he made up. But don't watch it unedited. I could tell a lot of editing was done and I would not watch it if I did not have AMC's editing prowess backing me up.

I also went to Washington D.C. and Nashville, Tennessee last week for spring break. I ate so much food last Thursday and Friday, I almost exploded. Thursday night I had the bright idea to go running after eating beyond a normal person's capacity. I went into the hotel exercise room which had a whole wall with windows into the pool area, where there were a couple of teenagers.
After a quarter mile, I felt as though my everything was going to die, so I wisely stopped running as to avoid exploding ribs and smoked turkey onto the carpet. As I sat and composed my stomach, I realized that the teenagers had taken notice of me. But, the only thing they had seen was me running at a leisurely pace for a quarter mile that resting for a long time. Needless to say, I felt like a spaz. Then for a reason unknown to any scientific proofs or religious revelations or philosophical discoveries, one of the girls waved at me. I made sure she was waving at me (it had to be me because I was the only one it could've been), then awkwardly waved back. Cool story.

There is this girl I like who I haven't seen for a majority of the past two weeks because of vacations and stuff. She is just the best. This is going to sound super cliche, but she brings the best out of me. With her beautiful expressions (seriously, I have never seen anyone else who cannot contort their face into an ugly look, but regardless of what she does, her face is always beyond perfect), she really makes me want to be as perfect as she is. I am so grateful for my friendship with her and would not trade it for anything (except maybe a flying DeLorean with a flux capacitor). Seriously though, best person award goes to her.

This has been my life for the past two weeks. I have had a great time and a horrible time. I have wanted to sing, "Hallelujah," and I've wanted to shoot a burro. But all in all, I'd say it was a worthwhile time.

P.S. Also, I started a novel that I will be sharing soon.

Agencies

I guess if I want to get published, I'll have to do it without an agent. For my second novel they'll be flooding my gates. I still need an idea for the first one, though.

Blog

I have had a blog for a year now. I've grown quite a bit since my first post but my blog hasn't changed very much. There are a few bloggers that have gotten extremely aesthetically pleasing, but mine has remained this way. To tell the truth, I like it. I keep it simple. I focus on one thing: the writing.
But throughout all of what I have written, I have seen a bunch of growth. I'm proud. Maybe I'll make a book. Probably not.

Sorry I am always writing about writing

I can't help it. It is too much fun. I think this is how Einstein felt about math. It really is my calling in life. Now if I could just get money for doing it.

So here is the thing about last year...

Turns out I skipped all of 2011 due to a rip in the time-space continuum. So I went back in time near the beginning of 2013 and lived all the way to about right now. I am going back to live my the rest of my senior year. Oh one more thing, I went farther in time and I turn out a really hot, famous author, so if your a girl and are reading this, I would definitely pre-order me. Seriously though.

Samwise Gamgee

Have you ever titled something with the intentions of writing basically anything but what the title implies? I have just done so.

Today I got home from school planning on finishing my math and English assignments and then going to see a cool kid open his mission call across the street. Eureka took mind and I would achieve almost everything but that. I ate two breakfast sandwiches and watched two episodes of what is beginning to be one of my favorite shows. As I started the third episode, I promptly fell asleep. I am really good at not doing homework. It takes a lot of work for a person to get this far in their education and still maintain a serious lack of homework done.

Another thing. Tuesday my ratio of sleep to awake was 1:5. It ain't very fun. Don't try it. Take my word for it. Yesterday I was running of a total of nine hours from the last two nights combined. Seriously I must be doing something wrong.

In less than twenty-four hours my entire life will be about 9! times simpler. Maybe even 10! times. I really hate school. I don't think they really care about us. I love people though. Thanks for reading my blog. I appreciate the support and feedback I get. Maybe someday someone will give me money to do this.

Everything is okay

I sure do enjoy my life. It is one of those times when you can't think of anything bad. I've been hanging out with two of my best friends, Trevor Ward and Kassie Hamilton. I have had the best week.

Here is my next week:

• Special Needs Sacrament Meeting tomorrow at 8:45 AM.
• No school after Tuesday
• I'm going on a date with the beautiful Lauren Miner. We are doubling with Trevor and his date, Megan Francis, and we are going to see our Curley, Taft Robinson, in the play, Into the Woods.
• I have something Wednesday. I'll get back to you on it. I forgot.
• Thursday is Thanksgiving. I sure do enjoy that November gem.
• Friday I don't have to avoid Christmas music. Seriously, we can avoid listening to that stuff until after Thursday. An entire month is plenty for any genre of music.
• Saturday I don't have school.
• Sunday is Sunday.
• Then back to school (but we don't think about that).

Another thing. You know how I want to be an author? Well, I got this book that a majority of high school students would mistake for a phonebook. It is not a phonebook. It is the 2011 Writer's Market, which holds every single publisher in the United States. For an author, it's pretty dang awesome. I decided I couldn't waste a resource like that, so I decided to do something. I am in the process of writing a short story which I will submit until it is published (probably in 2058). I am really excited. I will post the story, first draft, when I finish.

Needless to say, my life is going by perfectly.