An Introduction

I hadn't noticed it until a month ago, but there is a giant difference between the numbers six and seven. On September 9, 2010 - exactly one month from now - I begin my twenty-seventh year of being a person. I don't think I can say "mid-twenties" anymore. Cue quarter-life crisis.

I'll admit, twenty-seven is pretty much nothing. Given the exponential progression of technology, I'm looking at a good six, seven hundred years on this planet. But to have been given twenty-seven years and to accomplish nothing at all that I'm proud of, that's not okay. I can't forgive myself if I don't change that.

When I was growing up, I had three dream careers. I wanted to be an astronaut until I found out they did more than float and take pictures. I also wanted to be a veterinarian. If all had gone as planned, I could be doing checkups on those dogs they send into space. My timeline's a little off on that one, but I'm assuming you know it was a joke. If you didn't, go back and read it again. Notice how it changes with this new knowledge.

There was, though, one dream which persisted. I wanted to be a writer. In fourth grade, I wrote a story about a rabbit who, over the course of one night, developed very large muscles and general anthropomorphic capabilities, broke out of its cage, and shot its owner. Admittedly, there were some plot holes, but I consider it a success.

That was my first real work of literature, and I've come up with giant piles of ideas since then but not much in the way of words actually being on paper. I have a plan to change that and, with a little luck and self-sold justification, to successfully validate my own existence. Four steps. All to be completed before my twenty-seventh birthday. This is the moment for which years of procrastination have been preparing me.

One. Hand out résumés, hand out writing samples, talk to employers. I don't care how awesome it makes me look, I do not want to wear an apron to work anymore.

Two. Write a screenplay. I've actually already taken a screenwriting course in which my work garnered a fair bit of praise, and I'm enrolled in another which starts a week from today. I've got the outline of my script pretty well figured out, and I will have a finished first draft for the class to workshop. I will also ignore ninety percent of their suggestions. My apologies.

Three. Perform stand-up comedy in front of a live audience. I'm going to need an open-mic night or a comically desperate club owner.

Four. Write a novel. I'm sure at least half of you have noticed the title of this blog. I'm also assuming at least two people have read this. My plan here has less to do with creating worthwhile literature and more to do with just forcing myself to write. As far as that process, I find myself too often hung up on making everything as perfect as I can on my first pass. As such, I feel I need to take myself in completely the opposite direction.

I will write one chapter every day for thirty days. If I skip a day, I will not finish before my birthday deadline, and I will be very, very sad. As of now, I do not know how this story ends or unfolds. To keep it interesting for both of us, I will try as best I can not to think too far ahead. I realize this is a terrible idea. It'll be like those Choose Your Own Adventure books, except I'll be the only one choosing, and you'll just have to pretend. Every chapter will be in its first draft state and will be left as is, even if I think of something later that I really should have put in. I'll try to tie up all the loose ends, but I'm pretty sure we're both going to be disappointed when this is over. The point still remains, though: I'll have finished a novel. Kind of. I predict a majority of the chapters will be one page long. I'll also do my best to post updates on how everything else is going.

Please, enjoy my awful book.



Edit ... from the future!: Now that everyone in the screenwriting workshop has a link to the blog, I feel I should clarify that the "I will also ignore ninety percent of their suggestions" line has everything to do with me and indicates nothing about what I think of you.

Hell, Dave's got more writing experience than anyone I've ever met, he's got co-writing credits on a film pulling in festival awards, he's got a real-life imdb page with trailers and everything. And still, in the first class I took, not only did I ignore his suggestion to change the opening credit sequence in my screenplay outline, I left it in exactly the same form for the updated outline I turned in a few weeks later - just to rub it in his face. I'm just stubborn like that, but I still very much appreciate any feedback anyone has ever given me, and I especially appreciate any feedback I may get in the future that doesn't start with the line, "I know you're not going to listen to me because you're an ass, but..."