The Blog In Yellow

It's called that because my dreams are inverted. In this dream, I had the goal of being a dishwasher but I end up working for a TV or Movie set. The director is this strict but understanding woman who reminds me of the Devil wears Prada or something. She's tough on her crew but understanding towards me because she knows I'm autistic. I duck into the set when they start filming a medical horror drama. There's this glowing goo like from the Reanimator films that the head actress is using to fight the doctors. She becomes my girlfriend later. The director hires me to work on set and I take the job. Later, I go out to take out the trash and this guy keeps poking me with a stick. I end up fighting him with tai chi because its the only exercise I get. Later on I return to the trash area to pick up some litter and some people help me out. And of course, because it's a dream, there's zombies in it. But I'm chalking that up to the director making a zombie film. Overa...

Yesterday, I gave my first review of a short story. It was amature and not in a bad way, but in a way that told me that the writer hadn't written a lot yet. I gave my two cents and earned two points. Not enough to get my work posted but enough for a start. I wonder if I can do more. The problem is that I need A LOT of feedback to grow and it seems like this site only has three to five reviews at the most. Maybe I should spread out my search. There's also FIVVER which will connect me with professionals, but I have to pay. You always have to pay. And there's no guarantee that my work will be published. I look at the better works that people have put out and it feels like there is a gap between my location and them. I'll try my best to push forward.  Moving on, today was a bit different. I found out that the biggest problem writers have is to give themselves permission to be bad. At least with the first draft. I'm so glad that it's a common problem but I wish someo...

This is a warm up. I'm going to write this and then work on the first chapter of Cain. I've found a site to post my work. I'm hoping this takes some of the sting out of the inner critic. I'm feeling him today. Right now I'm on the phone with my psychiatrist asking about an open time. Looks like...we've got it all worked out. She's hoping a medicine change will help my mental state. Maybe I should stop writing for a while and see if my mental health gets better.  Before that, there's a few things I wanted to write about. I was thinking about The Shining again and I found a chapter that struck me. I don't know why it struck me but my mind was thinking about areas where Jack was being misogynistic towards Wendy. There's a scene around the middle fo the book where the three of them are snowed in the Overlook. Wendy and Jack have had a bit of an argument after Danny went into room 217, or 237 if you're talking about the movie. The book never tells...

Ive got something important for tomorrow. I need my rest.

I tried something different. I tried listening to God like the Perfected By Blood people, that my mom listens to, suggested. I got a...I dunno, vision, of a dead catepillar. Not a good sign. I told my mom about this and she suggested it was a form of resurrection. Yesterday, I spent the day at my folk's place while my laundry was being done. I went out to eat chips and salsa with them while waiting for the drier. I told watched a few videos of Perfected By Blood and I got a thought about a dried viver bed where my caterpillar laid. Eventually, the river of life came back to the dried area. On a whim, I looked up "dead caterpillar" on my phone and it told me that it's likely that the bug is in the process of changing to a butterfly. I hope that's the case with me. That I'm changing, not dying. That made me feel better for the first time in a while. After lunch with my folks I came home and took a nap. I had plenty to bring in from the car so I was tired. I thin...

Am I feeling better? I have access to new ways of learning the writing process. There's a bunch of free online videos and plenty of books to read. But I haven't been doing much with those resources. Do I really want this or do I think I want this? Writing...writing takes a lot out of me. It's like scraping the bottom of my soul and digging up things I didn't want to see. My folks keep telling me that I'm young and that I have time but I'm almost thirty eight and I haven't published anything yet. Not that I think anything I've written is worthy to be published. So why don't I go back and work on the other stuff? Because I don't want to, that's why. If I'm honest with myself, my work is okay but not great. At least not yet. That inner critic is a coward who keeps my dreams at bay. Speaking of which, I had at least five great dreams last night, stuff that I thought I could use for a book or something. But I forgot all of them. How is it that...