Posted in General Thoughts

Pam and Tommy

I generally try not to be that person.

I try to take in whatever media I’m digesting and evaluate it on its own merits without any outside factors playing a role.

With that being said I tried watching the Hulu limited series Pam & Tommy. If you’re under the age of 20 or been living on an island, under a rock for the last 50years, the show chronicles the events involving an extremely intimate tape of Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee and his then wife Pamela Anderson of Baywatch and Barbed Wire fame. Said tape was stolen by a disgruntled electrician (it was in a safe he stole) and eventually ended up online. It was an embarrassment for our metal couple but the brunt of the humiliation landed squarely on Pamela because that’s the world we live in. Oh, I’m sure Tommy cringed a bit in the beginning but he was getting rave reviews about the size of his drum stick so I’m sure his personal fluster ended quickly. It was the talk of the town. There were lawsuits and litigations and all kinds of law stuff but in the end the tape was free to roam the Information Super Highway for all to see.

Fast forward to 2021 and it’s announced that Hulu is producing a limited series about the event starring Sebatian Shaw and Lily James. Stories begin to surface regarding the real Pam and Tommy’s feelings on the show. Lily James and the showrunners Robert Siegel and D.V. DeVincentis said they reached out to Pamela but she did not respond (file this under No Shit Sherlock). This show was going to happen with or without her or Tommy’s consent.

And therein lies my issue and where I become that person.

Regardless of how the actual people felt, regardless of the fact that the 2 people at the center of this did not want this show to happen, that didn’t matter. And watching the show, for me, made me an accomplice. This isn’t a story about someone over coming the odds. This isn’t about shining a light on an injustice. This isn’t about showcasing a tragedy that people may not have heard about or even know much about. This is about 2 people, a married couple, having sex on a boat. Its about a couple being humiliated and ridiculed simply because their loving making was shown to the world. It’s a show that reignites their trauma. Like the release of their sex tape, their consent was taken away. I’m not going to finish the show and I won’t judge anyone who watches and enjoys it, this is just how I feel.

Posted in Films

Straw Dogs (1971)

I still can’t get it out of my mind.

I’m still debating after a few days whether I like it or not.

You’re probably wondering what I’m talking about (or not since the poster is the first thing you see.)   I am talking about the 1971 Sam Peckinpah film Straw Dogs.

This was one of those pieces of celluloid that has been on my to watch list for a looooong time. I like Peckinpah films. The Wild Bunch and Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia are 2 favorites that require me to stop whatever I’m doing and watch whenever they’re on. I like The Getaway and The Ballad of Cable Hogue. Peckinpah was a seminal filmmaker who could seamlessly go from bloody shoot’em ups to quiet interoceptive character pieces. He used a number of films to explore the concept of masculinity and what it means to be a man. He, himself, was a complicated man who suffered from drug and alcohol issues which made him a nightmare to work with but even his lesser films have a bit of engagement that warrant viewings.

Straw Dogs is probably his most controversial film and after finally seeing it, I understand why.  The film stars Dustin Hoffman as David Sumner, a mathematician who, after securing a grant, moves with his wife Amy played by Susan George to her father’s house near her home village In England. Right from get go David is not a welcomed person in this town. He either gets glares or is ignored completely. Amy’s ex makes moves on her and later on is hired to help reroof the garage at her father’s place by his friends. So this piece will have spoilers so if you’re interested in seeing this.

STOP.

RIGHT.

NOW>

Ok back to my piece. The biggest controversy is Amys’ rape. There are actually 2 rapes that occur. The first is perpetrated by Amy’s ex Charlie. She initially declines his advances but he doesn’t take no for an answer and slaps her around, he then tears her clothes off. The eye-opening aspect of this is that during certain periods of this assault she seems to be enjoying it while simultaneously repulsed by it. She is a neglected wife. David is busy with his project and at times is completely annoyed with her. Even when he’s down for some lovin, he kills the mood by taking off his watch and setting his alarm. He removes even the minimalist of spontaneity.  Charlie, while being a monster, shows his carnal desire, something that has been lacking for her. She knows this is wrong in every way but at the same time she has been missing the feeling of being desired. It boils down to the fact that sometimes a woman wants to be fucked. Damn the romance, just take me. Even Charlie, at one point, realizes what he did was wrong but that doesn’t stop him.  And look, just so we’re clear, Charlie should have stopped the moment she said no.

Fellas when she says no, you stop PERIOD.

Just as Charlie and Amy have finished, he looks up and sees his friend Norman Scutt pointing his rifle at him and motioning him to move aside. Amy is unaware of what’s happening until it’s too late. What ultimately became consensual with Charlie, becomes full blown rape with Scutt while Charlie holds her down. Its grim and gruesome. It’s also another look at masculinity, Why did Charlie let Scutt do this? Why didn’t he stop him?  Charlie is the polar opposite of David; he’s a big beefy boy who doesn’t seem to have a problem handling himself but yet he almost cowers when Scutt arrives (and yes he had a gun at first but he put it down eventually).

  Then there’s the character of Henry Niles, a mentally ill man who may have been inappropriate with a teenage girl(s). The town despise him and his brother has to always keep an eye out to make sure he isn’t doing anything lascivious.  Later on, though, the teenage daughter of Charlies uncle sets out to seduce him. They disappear together and her brother let her uncle know she went off with him. The Charlie his uncle and the friends set off to find Henry and, in the process, Henry freaks out and accidently kills the daughter. Henry stumbles out of the fog into the road where David and Amy, having just left the church social, run down Henry. They take him back to their home. When the mob finds out where he is, they come to claim their prize but Dave is having none of it and the siege begins. And this is where things fell apart for me. I knew the basics of the film. I knew there was a rape and I knew David would “man up”. What I didn’t know was that David finally growing some balls and going full Home Alone on these cretins, had nothing to do with Amy’s rape. She never told David what happened so what I thought was a rape revenge film is just them protecting a murderer (they don’t know for sure but we do) who also may have been child molester. I was floored when that revelation hit me. During the attack, Amy repeatedly tells David to let them have him and for the most part I was in agreement. I had no clue why David was hell bent on keeping this guy safe. At one point Henry starts attacking Amy. David stops it but treats him like a child who tried to stick a fork in the socket. Its wild to watch. In the end, most of the mob is killed so David leaves his wife in the house in the middle of all that carnage and drives Henry back to the village, probably stopping to buy him ice cream.

This is mean, nasty, visceral, misogynistic piece of 70’s cinema. It felt like Peckinpah was trying to work out some female issues he was having.  There is not one likeable character (ok maybe one character) but that’s’ not an issue for me. I don’t have to like the people in the film to enjoy it. Just make it engaging and entertaining in some way. I can’t argue that I was engaged but I don’t think for the right reasons. The town is ugly, the people are ugly, the attitudes are ugly. I mentioned earlier that Peckinpah films are studies in manhood. This film is the thesis paper written in blood and spit. Some people may accuse me of judging this film with 21st Century sensibilities. To a certain degree they ‘re not wrong. I just turned 50 and if my thoughts and sensibilities haven’t changed since I was 20, then just leave me in the wilderness to die because that’s just pathetic. But I also can enjoy a film despite its problematic elements (talk to me about 16 Candles for example). I love 70s cinema; the grit and the honesty, the feeling of freedom those films invoke. But also, I think this film felt extreme for 1971 and it still feels extreme in 2022. Maybe that’s where it succeeds; that it hits that raw nerve 51 years later.

I don’t know if I like it. I don’t know if I’ll ever have a definitive feeling one way or the other. There are things I love and things I hate about it. Things I admire and things I’m repulsed by. Good or bad, this fascist work of art as described by Pauline Kael hooked me, got under my skin. I won’t recommend it but I won’t stop you either.

Posted in Uncategorized

The Ballad of 2020

If you’re reading this congratulations you’ve survived 2020.

Pat on yourself on the back, take a bow, smoke’em if you got’em and all that.

It was a dumpster fire of a year and no matter what you needed to do to get through it, you deserve a medal.

2020 was the Donald Trump of years; an embarrassing, anger inducing, jaw dropping shit show. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, it got worse.  But for each teeth gnashing situation that would rear its ugly head, there was those who stood up and tried to do good. For every idiotic non masker that screamed about the trampling of their rights, there were 10 masked people, Lone Rangers if you will, that shamed them and showed them the error of their ways. For every racist group that showed up to scream about the marginalizing of white people, there was a rainbow collation of people that showed the only race that matters is the human race.

But with all the nonsense that 2020 threw at us, we, as individuals, looked to find ways to bring some sunshine to the overbearing numbers of dark clouds.  The amount of tasty baked goods I saw from first time bakers was astounding. The sounds of music coming from first time musicians was emotional. The scarfs and hats coming from first time knitters was amazing. We all did what we could to survive. I didn’t bake or knit or create music, no I just watched films and TV. I gorged on comfort shows and films from my past, marveling at what held up and what may have had problematic elements. That was my way of coping with the world around me. So no matter what got you through this Hindenburg level disaster of a year, the important thing you made it to the other side.  

Now it’s the first day of 2021. Any reasonable person knows that no changes will occur within the first month (although there will be those watch tappers muttering under their breath where all the miracles are) But the one thing 2021 brings right from the start is hope.  A new year feels like a clean slate, like someone pressed the reset button. And while in reality life and time just moves forward, there is a renewed vigor that gets people excited about the future (granted that vigor dissipates after February but hey lets appreciate it while it’s here). 

Things have changed, the world we live in has changed, and society has changed. The old norms are no longer the norms. It’s time to adapt to this new reality and create new norms. Don’t hold back, make that music, knit that scarf, write that piece. Let your voice be heard and drown out the negative noise that this outgoing President has allowed to flourish. The 1 in 2021 means it’s the first step toward a better world, and while we may stumble, we keep moving forward.

Posted in Uncategorized

My Own Private Ghost Story

Since 2020 is a garbage year and Halloween is being shelved because we should all stay safe I figured it would be a good time to recount a little personal ghost story.

I think it was 2004, my best friend and I were living together. One Friday night we had plans to meet with friends. I, unfortunately, had to back out as I had to work in the wee early mornings.  I bid my friend a fond farewell and told him to give everyone there my love. Since I was a responsible adult I went to bed at the geriatric hour of 9pm. At about 11:30pm I awoke to the sounds of muffled laughter and people running up and down the hallway of our apartment. I groggily got out of bed to say hi because even as a sleepy head I can’t help but be a social butterfly.  When I opened the door, the place was in complete darkness and there was no one around. I stepped further into the blackened hallway but there was nothing, no one, not a single soul. I was confused but I also thought “probably a dream that was so intense I thought it was real” yeah that was it.  So I went back to my room and went to bed

An hour later I heard the same noises, especially the people running up and down the hallway.  I got up and went to the door but I stopped myself from opening it, instead I crouched down and peeked through the opening at the bottom of the door. I saw…nothing. Again it was pitch black. I saw forms and waves but the ones you usually see when it’s dark almost an inky blackness. I was really confused. I thought “that cannot have been a dream, especially the same one in the same night”. I heard the noise 2 more times. The giggling, the running it was all insistent but for the rest of that evening I just stayed in bed.    

Now fast forward 2 weeks later. My downstairs neighbor’s parents are in town from England. We are very close to them so of course we go down on Sunday evening to say hi and hang out. During our visit this exchange occurs

Neighbors’ mom:  By the way what was all the ruckus going on at your place last night?

Me: What do you mean?

Neighbors’ mom:  Why were you guys running round upstairs?

(My best friend and I look to each other in confusion)

Me: What time did you hear all that?

Neighbors’ mom:  I would say about 11 maybe midnight

(SLIGHT PAUSE)

Me: We didn’t get home until almost 3am.  

Neighbors’ mom:  Are you sure?

My bestie and I nodded in unison.  There was dead silence.

Portrait of scary female ghost walking in the hotel corridor. Concept of Halloween horror

Posted in General Thoughts, TV

Aquaman: The Rodney Dangerfield of Superheroes

One night, as I was scouring Youtube, I decided to relive my youth and check out the opening theme songs to the classic Superfriends cartoons. As I watched, I realized that, even though he’s one of the main stars on this show, Aquaman gets the gold medal for being the least respected superhero.

Here’s Superman, about to lift a rocket and toss it into space. Look how he lifts it with the greatest of ease.

And then to add to his machismo, he pushes the rocket into the farthest reaches of space. Hopefully no one was inside, but hey he’s Supes and that’s what Supes does.

Then we come to Batman and Robin; frightening evil doers and kicking much ass. Well, Batman is kicking ass, Robin is all tied up like male damsel in distress but I’m sure he got a few licks in. No matter, we see some heroics happening here.

I

I feel bad for Robin so I’m adding this action shot so he looks fairly heroic and ready to bust some criminal booty or maybe they’re both jumping into a pool, who knows.

Next, Wonder Woman is showing her badassery by swinging her lasso while on top of her invisible jet.  I mean, that act alone should win her all the Tough Guy competitions until the end of time.

But is swinging a lasso on top of a plane enough for our Amazonian Princess? NOPE. She has to go the extra mile and lasso a friggin dragon. I think it’s a dragon, look it’s a monster and it’s huge and she’s dragging it behind her plane, probably taking it back to her place so she can have it mounted like that Marlin your Dad claims he caught off the coast of Australia but really bought at a garage sale and is mad because the button is broken so it can’t mouth the words to Bad to the Bone.

And finally we come to our guest of honor, the cause of this blog post; Aquaman. Is he battling a sea creature? Is he fighting Black Manta? Is he going toe to toe with mutated carnivorous gold fish?  Not even close. All he’s doing is entertaining the audience at the 1pm show at Sea World while committing a blatant act of animal abuse. Look at him waving to the crowd like he just performed a triple lindy while the dolphins look completely unimpressed.

When a guy wearing a leather jacket, jumping over sharks is cooler than the King of the Seven Seas, you seriously done messed up.

Posted in Films, General Thoughts

I Heart 80’s All Over

I am a child of the 80’s.  I grew up watching a lot of TV and film. And I mean A LOT. Not only would I gaze in wide wonder at the glowing box that presented my favorite pieces of eye candy like Duke of Hazzard, Different Strokes and Buck Rogers, my father also took to me see films in the theater. Every Sunday he would make pancakes and then it was off to the flickers to see Superman Man 2, The Black Stallion, The Secret of Nimh, and so forth. I would occasionally do revisits of the more classic films like Poltergeist, The Empire Strikes Back or Raiders of the Lost Ark but I started listening to a podcast that started my path to not only re-watching some of the 80’s films I loved as a child,  but also the 80’s films that fell way under my radar.

                                I happen to be on Twitter when I learned about a podcast that reviewed films from the 80s; year by year month by month. I was intrigued and I immediately went to their site 80sallover.com and was quickly introduced to the team of Drew McWeeny and Scott Weinberg.  I don’t’ remember which one I started with but I was hooked from the start. I was entranced by Drew’s rapid fire analytical thought process and his encyclopedia level knowledge of film.  I was hooked by Scott’s comedic timing, his laugh out loud segues and his passion for a film that still holds up or a film that he was irritated by. And it wasn’t just about films, these guys let us in to their lives at times. I loved hearing how Drews’ kids reacted to a particular film or hearing about the outpouring of condolences toward Scott when his beloved cat died or the time I got chocked up listening to Drew get teary eyed while telling a story that was connected to Starman. I loved how they owned up to mistakes and the fact that from this time forward I will no longer be able to hear The Gap Band’s Oops Upside Your Head without thinking of the show. After a while they weren’t just hosts, they were friends. Friends that I had the honor of hanging out with and listening to them speak intelligently and hilariously about 80’s films.

                                The goal was to watch and review every film from the 80s no matter how obscure. That task seemed so monumental but every 2 weeks they came out with new episodes. Add that they had a Pateron page (the only pateron I ever subscribed to) that had bonus content like interviews with Steven E. de Souza, Lea Thompson, Nancy Allen, Barbara Crampton and Bill Hader just to name a few, it makes you wonder when they found time to sleep or have their own lives. But after April of 1985 dropped it would sadly seem that reality came crashing in. They announced they were putting the show on hiatus to try to figure things out. I was surprised they were able to keep that schedule but it was completely understandable that they would need a break. But 3 months later the sad news broke; 80’s All Over was no more. The time and cost was just too much for 3 guys (God I almost forgot producer Bobby). Reading the letter they posted on the site I could almost hear all 3 guys’ collective hearts breaking. You know that they wracked their brains trying come to a solution. Trying to figure out how to make this work but in the end it just couldn’t be.

                                I was happy to hear that the episodes would still be on the site (although the Pateron page would have to close down). I turned the show on to a few friends who also became fans (after a week of listening one friend showed me his Amazon cart and yeah it filled to the rim but not with Brim but tons of 80’s movies). And while there won’t be any new episodes I still want to bring this show to the attention of people so they can feel the enjoyment I felt. I want to thank Drew and Scott for reminding me, for informing me and for making me love the 80’s all over again.

Posted in General Thoughts, TV

Thoughts on the Zone

I seriously am enjoying the new Twilight Zone. It has the creepy vibe and strong commentary on current events like the original but with an updated gloss. But with that being said I do have a few quibbles that I need to air out.

The Swearing

I’m not a prude and I appreciate a good F bomb now and again but man it’s been pretty relentless on the show. During A Traveler the F bomb was dropped twice in the same scene. It just feels excessive. Just because you can do it doesn’t mean you need to do it all the F@#Kin time.

The Run Time

Seriously some of these episodes could use a bit more editing. The 1st episode, The Comedian clocked in at 55min and you felt each minute click away. Scenes felt like they were padding even though I know they don’t have a specific run time they need to hit. A Traveler (yes again) which ran for 51min could have lost the first 10min and it would have been perfect.  Replay was the only episode past the 45min mark that didn’t drag or feel like it needed a little trim.

The Host

I know this one is controversial and it stings a bit to say but man, I’m just not digging Jordan Peele as the host. He’s a great actor and a brilliant filmmaker but for some reason I’m jarred out of the show in the beginning when I see him. Maybe it’s because I’m so used to seeing him doing comedy that I feel he’s about to do a sketch when he pops in. But I would feel like this about anyone who isn’t Rod Serling. There’s a reason why most of the Twilight Zone narrators are just voice over.

Those are the major (or minor) issues I have. Oh the whole I think the show, so far, has been a worthy successor to the original and I think Rod would be proud to enter this Zone.

Posted in Films, General Thoughts

The Ladies Talk the Black Lagoon

I follow a lot of writers and people in the entertainment industry in general  on Twitter. That strange little platform can be a haven for the most hellish parts of the internet. A place that truly embodies giving a voice to everyone including the lowest pieces of gutter trash this side of Satan’s anus. But if you can wade through all that crap you can find some truly shining diamonds. I stumbled on Anya Stanley (@Bookishplinko) when she started contributing on Birth.Movies Death which led me to her website (anyawrites.com) and opened the flood gates to her amazing writing on BMD, Dread Central and Collider. She tackles horror topics with a keen analytical mind and a pure childlike joy that is infectious. Her twitter feed is both engaging and hilarious.  Then I started seeing some writers retweeting a woman named Mallory O’Meara (@malloryomeara). I had no clue who she was at first and then I went on her twitter feed and learned she had written a book called The Lady from The Black Lagoon. The titled alone hooked me as I’m a fan of the classic Universal Monster movies thanks to my mom who is a huge fan of those classic monsters. So when I learned what the topic was, I started following Mallory so I could keep abreast of when the book would arrive. She also has a great twitter feed. Full of funny day to day stories and also great insight.

                                Well the book finally hits the shelves; I bought it and read it in a few days. I loved it.   Part biography on Milicent Patrick who created/designed the Gil Man for Creature from the Black Lagoon but who’s credit for such a contribution was pretty much Thanos’d out of existence.  It’s part detective story as we go along with Mallory on her journey learning about this the woman behind the monster and overcoming the road blocks and brick walls she encountered  and righting the injustice of her lack of inclusion in the annals of creature creators.  It’s also part personal account of what it’s like to be a woman in the entertainment industry in general but more specifically being a woman in the horror community; showing us that while things have improved, women still have a long way to go. All these elements are effortlessly woven together. Everything flows so well without any jarring “what does this have to do with anything” moments. A lot of bios can be a bit dry (I read a bio on Ben Fraklin and I had to drink 25 glasses of water just to get through chapter 1) but this Lady is fun and engaging and informative. You feel the same joy Mallory felt when she discovered new info or when she saw a note written by Millicent or seeing her picture for the first time. The words she uses capture the emotion and you feel as if you are right there with her, you want to high five her. It’s a great book and highly recommend it.

                               Mallory starts her book tour and I found out that, not only will she be speaking at a library not too far from me, but it will be moderated by Anya Stanley. So two of my favorite writers in one room (as Randy Newman said “I love LA”) you bet your Gil-Man ass I’ll be there. I love hearing filmmakers and writers speak about their craft and the projects they’ve worked on.  I love hearing about all the glorious highs and the frustrating lows. I get to the venue pretty early as A) I’m terrified of being late B) traffic can move like molasses flowing upward and C) I didn’t know how crowded it would get.  Getting there early allowed me time to go and hang out in the library. I forgot how much I love roaming the aisles, looking at book spines from shelf to shelf. I love how quiet it is.  We’re all there for one thing; to appreciate the calmness of this environment. It’s here that I start working on this piece and I got to admit the beginning was easier than I thought. I usually write in my room but there are distractions; TV, the internet and so forth. I purposely do not connect to the wifi and I allow myself to be swallowed up by the auditory isolation. Everyone is in their own world and now I being building mine. Time clicks down and the show is ready to start so I pack up and head to the meeting room. It’s a good size room about the size of your average classroom, table up front for our honored guests. They have snacks; water, iced tea, cookies. While the other patrons being to shuffle in with their smiles and nods and their soft spoken hellos, I’m staking out my little spot.  It’s a mix of old and young folks, all with the same joy the book and the author brought them. . There is one couple who have personal knowledge of Milicent Patrick and when I hear their story, regardless of not knowing Mallory personally, I know she will be very excited to hear it.  Mallory arrives first and then Anya. They take their seats and Mallory regales us with what made her interested I this topic and Anya throws out questions that add more color to an already interesting story. The back and forth was great. Here are two writers who know their stuff and are having a fascinating back and forth.  There was a Q&A afterwards that went a lot better than I had expected (I’ve been to Q&A’s where people ask questions for things that were already answered, they use it to plug their own projects or they ask profoundly dumb things like someone asking Paul Verhoeven if he ever saw Schwarzenegger take roids Ugh)   At the end Mallory signed her book (I had her sign mine and a blu ray booklet from my Universal Monster collection) and I had the distinct honor of exchanging some words with Anya who was so nice and just so down to earth who I also had sign my booklet.  I know I said something silly because I was nervous (I get that way when I interact with people who are extremely talented) but my brain is blocking out that area like some traumatic event. All I have is the wonderful memory of meeting two extraordinary talented writers who were also extremely nice and completely engaging who were genuinely happy to meet the fans. Not all meet ups are good but this was pure gold.

Posted in General Thoughts, Writings

The Composer

When I was 12yrs old I wanted to be Indiana Jones. While my friends bought the Valley Girl film music with its totally tubular sounds, I religiously played the soundtrack to Raiders of the Lost Ark. I loved the film and I reenacted scenes in my room. Being able to listen to the music made my play time feel that much more authentic.  I didn’t bother to learn who made the music until later, I just cared about making sure I hung on to the edge of my bed like Indy hung on to the edge of that truck. Over time the name John Williams became more prominent in my life.

If there is anyone who I can say created the soundtrack to my childhood it’s Mr. Williams. It was over many years that I learned he had created the themes and scores for almost all of my favorite films; Jaws, Star Wars, E.T., Close Encounters and Superman just to name a few. Hell the guy did the theme song to my favorite show Lost in Space. I became in awe of his accomplishments and I wanted to learn more. He became my gate way drug, introducing to me other film composers; Bernard Herrmann, Jerry Goldsmith, Basil Poledouris.  And it’s those giants that opened me up to the classical works.

It all started with John Williams. His collaboration with Steven Spielberg is iconic. Spielberg movies on their own are amazing, but add a few musical notes by this legendary composer and they become extraordinary. When Mr Williams shuffles off this mortal coil, so will my childhood. But his music will continue to inspire me and I cannot thank him enough for opening me up to a world that I may not have found on my own had I not wanted to be Indiana Jones.

Posted in General Thoughts, Writings

Here we go again

I’m trying to figure out what to write.

I’m trying to get this blog going in some way. Trying to find the direction I want it to go.

Do I stick with films? Do I talk about other thigs like books and TV and music?  Do I branch out and just talk about what’s on my mind like politics, pop culture, and my own feelings on all kinds of things. Do I just create a fictional narrative like a multi part novella that might get people to come back more than my idiotic ramblings?

Ugh I just don’t know.

But I think that’s a good thing. I know I’ve done this several times. But then I get frustrated and give up for a bit. I sit and stare and muse and rack my brain trying to come up with A) an interesting topic and B) an interesting way to present said topic. So I throw up my hands and just binge the latest Netflix drug of choice.

But I have a clean slate; I always do. I can write I want and have no restrictions. I don’t have anyone to impress except myself and I’m my own worst critic. This is the time to experiment. This is the time to try different things and sees what sticks. This is actually a more exciting time because I can try any style and see what my and the audience reactions would be.

I always tell people that the beginning is the best place and find your voice.

So, once again, I sit and stare and muse but I’m not going to get frustrated. I’m not going to distract myself and I’m not going to give up. I want to put something up at least once a week regardless of the topic. I want it to be a habit, an addiction that when I don’t put something up I get hives or the DT’s. I was going to wait until Jan 1st but ugh that’s so cliché and why wait.  So here we go…

(3hrs later. Netflix: Are you still watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina instead of writing? Me: Sadly yes)