In December of 2009 I bought a journal (with my buddy Ryan aka Chef). My hope was to jam out ideas for the mythology and story structure of a novel. Well the novel became a series. Qualia is the first book it will be followed by The Seer, The Devourer, The Fall, Nomad and The Return. The Calling is the name of the series that these books are in.
I graduated from college (undergrad) March 2010 and immediately began looking for work and the pickins were slim as they say. So while I volunteered, took up domestic responsibilities (as the unwashed normally do) and looked for work, I also began the manic process of writer's possession. I couldn't stop writing Qualia even if I wanted to.
Qualia, the first book, is about Eden Monaghan. Eden is a 32 year old disgruntled retail employee that isn't very pleased with how his life has turned out. Eden awakens one morning and his life turns into a nightmare of visual psychotic delusions. What is proposed as a possible psychotic break becomes an awakening to ancient powers known as 'The Calling'.
The rest will have to wait for it to be published. I am in the middle of sending out queries and trying the old traditional route of publishing, but if that doesn't work I'm going to eBook Qualia and continue on writing the rest of the series. I am currently writing The Seer, chapter 2. Qualia is in its 5th draft, needed to put it down for a bit and write something fresh before I can edit further.
I am also editing my first novel, The Storm Before My Calm, with hopes of publishing a 2nd edition. Back in the day self publishing gave the author less control than it does now, and to be honest I was pretty hubristic back then and didn't properly edit my novel before publication. Now, almost ten years later, I have the opportunity to go back and clean it up. I have no desire to change the prose, because I wrote this book when I was 16 and this world, like Narnia to a Pevensie, is only accessible through the mind of a teenager. I have no right to go through and muck with my younger self's life, but I can make sure things are spelled correctly and give it a decent cover.
If you wanna check out the first edition it is available at amazon.com and bn.com ISBN 0595215599.
So this is my first real blog entry here at blogspot. I just stole my other blogs from their original homes because I wanted everything here in one place.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Stuff I like
Originally Posted: 7/24/2008 12:58 AM @ http://blog.slclifford.com/
Another thing I dig are shoes. Yea, go fuck yourself. I'm not talking about Air Jordans or Guicci or that other crap they talk about on Sex and the City, those are for people with too much fuckin' money. No, I dig shoes. I don't keep them pristine in my closet, I wear the fuck out of them. I had a pair of Vans (that I should have totally kept) from like 1994 and wore them for like 12 years. Now I didn't wear them to school or work the entire time, no the majority of it was mowing lawns and shit, but I kept them. I dunno what possessed me to throw those things out they were the perfect pair of lawn mowing shoes, they were always cool inside, no matter how long I wore them or kept them in the sun, they were ALWAYS cool on my feet. Cool like that coke I just drank, not cool like the World Industries tennis shoes I bought yesterday. Yes I love shoes. Hiphop, Skater, cool fucking Generation Y graffiti on them before ya buy them shoes. Vans, Converse, Airwalk, Sketchers, World Industries, Timbaland, I love shoes. And I wear them till they are torn, stained, the padding in them loose and scratching me through my socs. I wear my shoes, and I love them. Nothing like a sweet pair of kicks man.
I dig Coke. Not that shit ya buy at the grocery store or that horrible crap you get at fast food joints I mean *shiver*. I dig Coke hecho en Mexico in a big glass bottle that looks like it belongs in a desert gas station vending machine that charges a nickel and has a built in bottle opener. That's the coke I dig. Not because I'm nostalgic, because I was born in 1980 and coke came in a can, period. No, because it just tastes better. It tastes like a fucking hot ass day you spent in the yard pulling weeds the summer before your freshman year of high school and the hot chick down the street saw you sweating and brought you a cold coke in her daisy dukes and halter top, that's how it tastes. I dunno what they do in Mexico, but I wish they'd send more of their soda making/bottling expertise up this'a'way.
Another thing I dig are shoes. Yea, go fuck yourself. I'm not talking about Air Jordans or Guicci or that other crap they talk about on Sex and the City, those are for people with too much fuckin' money. No, I dig shoes. I don't keep them pristine in my closet, I wear the fuck out of them. I had a pair of Vans (that I should have totally kept) from like 1994 and wore them for like 12 years. Now I didn't wear them to school or work the entire time, no the majority of it was mowing lawns and shit, but I kept them. I dunno what possessed me to throw those things out they were the perfect pair of lawn mowing shoes, they were always cool inside, no matter how long I wore them or kept them in the sun, they were ALWAYS cool on my feet. Cool like that coke I just drank, not cool like the World Industries tennis shoes I bought yesterday. Yes I love shoes. Hiphop, Skater, cool fucking Generation Y graffiti on them before ya buy them shoes. Vans, Converse, Airwalk, Sketchers, World Industries, Timbaland, I love shoes. And I wear them till they are torn, stained, the padding in them loose and scratching me through my socs. I wear my shoes, and I love them. Nothing like a sweet pair of kicks man.
Dexter Season Four Ender
Originally Posted December 30, 2009 @ http://joneser.wordpress.com/
<Spoiler Alert, if you want to be surprised by Dexter’s season 4 finale, or any other part of the series Dexter, then don’t read this>
So yesterday I watched the last five episodes of Dexter Season four. What a wild ride this season was. Some history is needed here. Being a student of Psychology I was originally adamantely against watching a television show that sensationalized a serial killer. My wife and I watched the first episode over a year ago, maybe longer, and she was so grossed out that she made me shut it off. I can’t say that I wasn’t upset by it either, but I was willing to give it a go.
It wasn’t until I spoke with Gypsy, and then my Therapist/Mentor that I finally decided I could take a gander at this show. Let me now say that as a Psychology Student, this is a goldmine of Psych candy for us to ping pong in our brains, it is a must see.
So I fell in love with Dexter, the show, and I started to empathize with a sociopath. My training in this type of psycho-pathology is limited to two undergrad Abnormal Psychology courses, and a sprinkling of units in each of my psychology courses. So I’m no expert by any means (yet) in either Forensic Psychology or Clinical Psychology. So I’m not so sure just how accurate the show’s depiction of sociopathology is. I however know from my own experience as a human being, that nothing is cut and dry, nothing is as easy as a DSM diagnosis. Humans like to place things in easy symmetrical little boxes for understanding, but we are far more complicated than that allows.
So four seasons later I’ve witnessed Dexter’s little game, his juggle from sociopath to family man to forensic scientist. I have to say this season, more than any other, I was starting to feel the stress of his charade. I really felt like Dexter was going to be given a choice, an ultimatum, from himself, whether to be the Dark Passenger’s puppet, or to be Dexter the family man and finally give up the Dark Passenger.
As the final episode approached Dexter seemed to realize the error of his ways. He could not fence with criminals without collateral damage ensuing. His family, the one he finally realized he did love, was becoming the target of his cat and mouse games.
Dexter isn’t that much unlike Batman, or other Marvel/DC exlpoits into vigilantiism. However, Dexter gets off, feeds offs, and lives off of the hunter and then ritualistic kill of his criminals, which is where the line ends in the comparisons between Dexter and super heroes. Some would say that Dexter has done a service to the world by his exploits, others would condemn him as a sicko. I can say that it is definately an interesting thought, what evolutionary gain have we ever had from this type of DNA?
Maybe perhaps all those wars that needed fighting throughout history? Maybe some people are just built genetically to kill and to live to kill. Much of what we read and think about war is this noble crusade of sacrifice and discipline. Maybe it isn’t so at all. Nowadays I’d more than likely change the brutal berserker in the field chopping down enemies for his noble lord, to a government filled with cowardly bloodsuckers sending my generation to war in exchange for a shot at the American dream. That is a whole other blog I think.
So the real reason for writing this is because I’m still upset by the last episode. My disturbance in the last five minutes of the last episode just has been eating at me since I watched it. So much invested in Dexter, empathizing with Dexter, rooting for Dexter. I saw myself in parts of Dexter, his issues with fitting in, with trying to maintain a relationship, with trying to maintain social relationships that often end awkwardly.
I saw myself in him, because he was a married man trying to build a family while balancing his career, obviously I didn’t relate to the murdering stuff, but you get the point. And now I can’t seem to get the image of his baby boy being born in blood just as he was. To the lifeless face of his angelic bride dead in the bathtub, murdered by what can only be called his arch nemesis. They didn’t show it, but I imagine the terror she suffered, the panic of knowing her last moments would be felt wondering if her child would suffer the same fate she did. It breaks my heart. I wonder why they would write it this way, and then I realize it is really the only way for them to end the series without crushing us.
Now we are like Dexter even more. This tragedy leads us searching for a sense of peace. I find myself wanting Dexter to end it, to kill himself or get caught. For all the secrets and lies to come to the service, for everyone to know the truth. Rita was the one thing keeping us on the Dexter team, with a hope that someday she could change him, and they could live together happily ever after and ride off into the sunset. That somehow Dexter’s dark passenger would be defeated…that all of our dark sides can be defeated.
Dexter can never be the family man now. I just hope he doesn’t become a worse monster in his grief. I look forward to seeing how this all comes to an end.
In season four, Rita and Dexter are seeing a marriage counselor and she notes that Rita knew how Dexter was before she married him, and so therefore she holds some responsibility for her being in the situation she was in. It could not have been told to me in a more truthful way. I knew he was a serial killer from the moment I put the DVD into play, and now I only have myself to blame for thinking I could change him.
The Twelve Days of Winter Veil
Originally Posted December 30, 2009 @ http://joneser.wordpress.com/
The Twelve Days of Winter Veil
by
by
Revenos the Winter Veil Dwarf
On the first day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
A murky in a world tree!
my guild helped me to get
A murky in a world tree!
On the second day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!
my guild helped me to get
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!
On the third day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the fourth day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the fifth day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the sixth day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the seventh day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the eighth day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the ninth day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the tenth day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Ten gnomes o’ punting,
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Ten gnomes o’ punting,
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the eleventh day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Eleven Piccolos of flaming fire
Ten gnomes o’ punting,
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
my guild helped me to get
Eleven Piccolos of flaming fire
Ten gnomes o’ punting,
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!.
On the twelfth day of Winter Veil,
my guild helped me to get
Twelve Drums of War,
eleven Piccolos of flaming fire
Ten gnomes o’ punting,
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!!
my guild helped me to get
Twelve Drums of War,
eleven Piccolos of flaming fire
Ten gnomes o’ punting,
Nine elf chicks dancing,
Eight Brewmaidens Brewing!,
Seven tier pieces,
Six epic gems,
Five dps rings,
Four swift gryphons,
Three Mechanical Chickens,
Two turtle mounts,
And A murky in a world tree!!
Happy Holidays from EDL!
The Calling
Originally posted December 1, 2009 @ http://joneser.wordpress.com/
The title of this blog entry is a play on words. I have been thinking, conspiring, dreaming, living and exploding creative energy for a series of novels that begins with “The Calling”. Once I flesh more of it out (it literally has been playing in my brain for about three years now, so I make no promises about when this will occur) I will be posting exerpts, ideas, and information on the progress.
The reason that the title is a play on words is that I have been a writer since before I could read or write. I was always living out imaginary stories, then my mother would write my plots for me as I drew pictures or created collages to go with them. By the time we had our first computer I was filling up floppy disks with my words, and of course I am guilty of killing many poor defenseless trees through printed pages and filled notebooks.
I started writing my first novel The Storm Before my Calm in 1996, I was sixteen years old and in love for the first time. After six notebooks, that were passed around in the classrooms of my high school, I then went about writing up the notebooks into a computer manuscript. This process took me until 2001. Hundreds of pages, harddrive crashes, moments of insanity, and less than twenty rejection letters led me to self publish my baby. I have come to terms with The Storm not being “perfect”, it is what it is, and I could never write it again. It is a specific moment of my life and how I felt at that time, and it was and is a true telling of one boy’s passionate love for a girl and the drama that ensued. There will always be a special place in my heart for my little novel that could.
As time passed and I grew into an adult I realized that becoming a world class writer was going to take work and experience. Trying to get a creative writing degree turned into a painful exercise in what not to become, my creative writing professor. After an addiction and a realization that I had been suffering from depression for the majority of my life (post my mother’s death) I began my career as a Psychology student. As my journey continued I realized my calling was to help people, and that writing would have to take a back seat until I could procure my other calling which would allow me to support my wife and future family better than being a starving artist.
I am not surprised that now on the eve of my graduating from college that the creative juices are flowing again. My writing used to be manic and impulsive exercises where I felt at times I was possessed by a demonic muse that would not be happy until I typed out The End.
Now that I am older, more educated, and healthier, I am ready to write again. My buddy Ryan and I went shopping for a dignified old school journal, we picked out a leather one with one of those leather strings to tie it up. I’ve been writing in it ever since, deciding life stories of characters, dynamics of factions and writing out scenes that just won’t stop playing in my head like a record scratching over someone’s favorite song.
So as Eden Monaghan, my protagonist, finds his calling, I too am experiencing the comfort and knowledge of my calling(s) and the benefits that come when we realize just exactly who we are and what we are meant to do.
The creativity coming now, at this juncture, just shows that my demonic muse can be patient, but is ready to cash in my promise that once I was done with one calling I would pick up where I left off with the last one.
The reason that the title is a play on words is that I have been a writer since before I could read or write. I was always living out imaginary stories, then my mother would write my plots for me as I drew pictures or created collages to go with them. By the time we had our first computer I was filling up floppy disks with my words, and of course I am guilty of killing many poor defenseless trees through printed pages and filled notebooks.
I started writing my first novel The Storm Before my Calm in 1996, I was sixteen years old and in love for the first time. After six notebooks, that were passed around in the classrooms of my high school, I then went about writing up the notebooks into a computer manuscript. This process took me until 2001. Hundreds of pages, harddrive crashes, moments of insanity, and less than twenty rejection letters led me to self publish my baby. I have come to terms with The Storm not being “perfect”, it is what it is, and I could never write it again. It is a specific moment of my life and how I felt at that time, and it was and is a true telling of one boy’s passionate love for a girl and the drama that ensued. There will always be a special place in my heart for my little novel that could.
As time passed and I grew into an adult I realized that becoming a world class writer was going to take work and experience. Trying to get a creative writing degree turned into a painful exercise in what not to become, my creative writing professor. After an addiction and a realization that I had been suffering from depression for the majority of my life (post my mother’s death) I began my career as a Psychology student. As my journey continued I realized my calling was to help people, and that writing would have to take a back seat until I could procure my other calling which would allow me to support my wife and future family better than being a starving artist.
I am not surprised that now on the eve of my graduating from college that the creative juices are flowing again. My writing used to be manic and impulsive exercises where I felt at times I was possessed by a demonic muse that would not be happy until I typed out The End.
Now that I am older, more educated, and healthier, I am ready to write again. My buddy Ryan and I went shopping for a dignified old school journal, we picked out a leather one with one of those leather strings to tie it up. I’ve been writing in it ever since, deciding life stories of characters, dynamics of factions and writing out scenes that just won’t stop playing in my head like a record scratching over someone’s favorite song.
So as Eden Monaghan, my protagonist, finds his calling, I too am experiencing the comfort and knowledge of my calling(s) and the benefits that come when we realize just exactly who we are and what we are meant to do.
The creativity coming now, at this juncture, just shows that my demonic muse can be patient, but is ready to cash in my promise that once I was done with one calling I would pick up where I left off with the last one.
Apparently Everyone Has A Blog…
Originally Posted November 18, 2009 @ http://joneser.wordpress.com/
So I’m slightly depressed. Apparently facebook isn’t enough these days. Now I have to read my friend’s blogs to know what’s going on with them. I mean it is partially my fault. I hate using the phone, and I would rather spend most days at home due to my being in college with 16 units causing me so much stress and activity that I rarely have the energy for more than television viewage and video game playage. Speaking of which I should totally be working on a large project right now, but hey I should start a blog! I have stuff to say too…
However, I feel out of touch regardless of reading blogs and keeping up with everyone’s mytwitbookblog. The saddest part is that it all seems to be the same message. We all are trying to find our niche in this world, be it school, work, marriage, parenthood or religion. Just be kind of nice if we could all get together in a single room filled with smoke, drinking beer or coffee or something and just hash it all out. Who the fuck has time for that anyway?
I too am trying to figure out what exactly it means to be a man in this day in age. I often wonder if there is some greater purpose for me. Should I be working on this Psychology degree, or should I be writing the next great American novel? Should I be an activist for _____, God knows there are plenty of things nowadays to fight for.
Is Capitalism killing my country? Or was my country never truly the thing that I was raised to believe it was?
Most days I just want to hang out with my wife. We’ve been together for 13 years, since High School. She’s seen me through bouts of depression, joblessness, crisis of artistic block, and addiction. Through all of that she remains, and despite what sitcoms taught me as a child, the sex and relationship have done nothing but get better.
So I guess despite my feeling out of touch, since i live in this bubble named “college”, life for me is relatively good. That doesn’t mean I don’t get lost sometimes, I do.
So I guess now I have a blog too…so people can keep “touch” with me.
So I’m slightly depressed. Apparently facebook isn’t enough these days. Now I have to read my friend’s blogs to know what’s going on with them. I mean it is partially my fault. I hate using the phone, and I would rather spend most days at home due to my being in college with 16 units causing me so much stress and activity that I rarely have the energy for more than television viewage and video game playage. Speaking of which I should totally be working on a large project right now, but hey I should start a blog! I have stuff to say too…
However, I feel out of touch regardless of reading blogs and keeping up with everyone’s mytwitbookblog. The saddest part is that it all seems to be the same message. We all are trying to find our niche in this world, be it school, work, marriage, parenthood or religion. Just be kind of nice if we could all get together in a single room filled with smoke, drinking beer or coffee or something and just hash it all out. Who the fuck has time for that anyway?
I too am trying to figure out what exactly it means to be a man in this day in age. I often wonder if there is some greater purpose for me. Should I be working on this Psychology degree, or should I be writing the next great American novel? Should I be an activist for _____, God knows there are plenty of things nowadays to fight for.
Is Capitalism killing my country? Or was my country never truly the thing that I was raised to believe it was?
Most days I just want to hang out with my wife. We’ve been together for 13 years, since High School. She’s seen me through bouts of depression, joblessness, crisis of artistic block, and addiction. Through all of that she remains, and despite what sitcoms taught me as a child, the sex and relationship have done nothing but get better.
So I guess despite my feeling out of touch, since i live in this bubble named “college”, life for me is relatively good. That doesn’t mean I don’t get lost sometimes, I do.
So I guess now I have a blog too…so people can keep “touch” with me.
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