The 250: An Experiment

After a painfully long hiatus from this blog, and something like a creative dry spell, I’m geared up about writing again. But not just in a perfunctory, “I should write something” way, no, I want to kick start my creative juices by pulling a stunt, by assigning myself a task that will get me thinking like a writer again.

My recent career meanderings have called into question whether I have any right to lay hold of the title “writer”, and while I’m pretty sure that the jury is (and will be) out on that point of order for a while yet, I can certainly do what I can to settle the question in my own mind. To that end, I’m resolving to write two hundred and fifty words a day for the next 30 days. It may be on this blog. It may be on Houstonist. It may be elsewhere on the web. The only exclusions are message board posts, Tweets, and Facebook content, all of which are taking up a large degree of my attention lately and subsequently making me a little stupider with each 140 character missive. On the upside, this experiment should make my Twitter more interesting, too.

Two-fiddy isn’t oppressive. Heck, it’s taken me a hair over two hundred words just to set this up to this point. All told, it’s 7500 words; roughly the length of a decent short story. Which is exactly what I’d like to start writing at some point as soon as I can think about writing fiction without breaking out in a cold sweat. Baby steps, people.

So that’s the manifesto and the goal. The carrot that’s mostly for me moreso than you. (Sorry) I’ll post links to stuff that I post elsewhere, maybe on a weekly basis or something. So keep your RSS well primed, because I’m gonna spam it for the next few weeks.

This Was Supposed To Be Coherant

But when you start off the week with a migraine, your ability to put together anything that even remotely resembles a cohesive narrative definitely suffers. So what you’re left with is another rambling blog post about nothing in particular, but everything in general. Which, I suppose, isn’t all bad. So here we go:

- I need to write here more often, if only to remind myself what it’s like to write in first person. Having to use the royal “we” over at Houstonist is like nails on a chalkboard at times.

- Not that I’m complaining about Houstonist, mind you.

- Thanksgiving was nice in a “good grief, how’d I get so tired?” kind of way. When your compass points to Conroe and Katy and points in between all weekend, with precious little chill time, you end up longing for Monday if only to get out of your damn car.

- Not that I’m complaining about Vesper, mind you.

- December looks about as busy, but spread over a longer time period. Which is good, I guess. After spending the past couple of years celebrating my birthday in a pretty laid-back fashion, my birthday falls on a Monday (free beer at the Saucer!) and the lovely Miss McNamara is planning something delicious. Should be fun.

- Not that I’m complaining about my birthday, mind you. (I have no idea how long I can keep this up)

- I’m seen as something of an authority on baseball within my social circle now. How crazy is that? Sure, it seems as though I’ve got a stronger handle on what the Astros are doing this offseason than Richard Justice does (does he snuggle up at night under a blanket with Chris Burke’s face on it? and does that blanket swing at bad pitches like it’s going out of style?) but I’m hardly a real expert. Unless….*runs to see if he can interview Ed Wade*

- Not that I’m complaining about the Chronicle’s sports coverage, mind you. (actually I am. this whole conceit dies here.)

- One of these days, I’ll actually interview a band or person on Houstonist that I’m not friends with, or where I have no previous connection. Until then, time to review Monica Pope’s new restaurant!

- I found my ticket stub from the Explosions In The Sky show in March (!), and that got me to thinking about the shows I’ve seen this year. Here they are, as best I can recall: Mute Math, Explosions In The Sky, The Hold Steady (with Illinois), Okkervil River, Guy Forsyth (3X), Trout Fishing In America, Junior Brown, The Avett Brothers, Girl Talk, Nickel Creek (2X), Zookeeper (2X), Ethan Durelle (2X), Two Tons of Steel (2X), The Church of Philadelphia (2X), Hollywood Black, and last but not least, Meryll. Throw in Asylum Street Spankers and possibly This Will Destroy You to finish the year, and the hits outweigh the misses (Bloc Party, Spoon, etc.) by far.

- New Favorite Nickname: Mr. Tummnus. This one will be nearly impossible to top. Especially when it’s delivered with the lisp of a 9 year old.

- Why oh why can’t we get these in the States?

Ok, that’s enough rambling. I will update more often because we are tired of we.

Notes on a Weekend

Yet another filler post. Sue me. It can’t all be cavorting with professional athletes around here.

-Sometimes answered prayer looks completely different than you imagine it would. Sometimes having every expectation turned on its head is the best thing in the world. Sometimes it’s best when you’re not heard at all. When hesitant eyes become comfortable hands, and fears become safety, something truly amazing is happening. And sometimes a good weekend is just a good weekend.

- On the heels of the recommendation of their music a few posts back, The Avett Brothers are coming to Houston on November 3rd. They’ll be playing small, outer stage at Meridian, which should be appropriately claustrophobic. Be there for a foot-stomping good time.

-Great. Now that Astros season is over and the Rockets are still in pre-season, there’s not a single Houston sports team still playing that I really know much about. Don’t tell anyone at Houstonist, please.

- I’ve been to LaPorte twice in the past week, and I may be going again on Wednesday. I keep expecting to look at the passenger seat of my car and see Dante sitting there, recording my descent drive.

-Divine Reserve no. 5 is the best beer St. Arnold’s has ever made. It’s like espresso with 10% alcohol.

- Is this a job or a support group for web junkies like me?

All esoteric nonsense aside, I’ll post something legitimate at some point in the future. But I’m not making any promises.