The Road to Becoming a Writer

My Writing So Far

2010-06-02T19:12:00.000-07:00

So I've been a freelance writer now for 4 months. It hasn't been easy, and the pay has...well, it sucks, but I'm really starting to think I'm making some headway. I say that because I recently accumulated enough jobs to create a writing resume. I guess I could've made a resume before, but it would've had a lot of white text.

Here's my accomplishments in the last 4 months, and how I able to landed them.

6rounds: This was a huge moment opportunity for me. It was my first professional writing job. It was the first time I got paid for writing. For anyone in any arts, your first paying gig is the most important one there is, no matter what the pay or the exposure.

DebbieHartzman.com: I landed this job shortly after 6rounds. Once you get the experience, the other jobs start coming. Thankfully, this allowed me to start supporting myself financially without flipping burgers. I had to learn more about web design and financial planning than I imagined, but it was well worth it.

Thiszine.com: An up and coming literary magazine that recently accepted one of my creative short stories. No pay, unfortunately, but it's nice for someone to go "This is good enough to attach our name too."

So...that was the first four months. I hoping the next eight will bring even more opportunities.

Some fun images!

2010-05-21T17:38:00.001-07:00

The Death of Grammar

2010-05-20T14:47:00.000-07:00

I'm a big fan of biographies. I love history and I find the best way to learn about it is through personal figures. The horrors of war can be glossed over unless you're able to anchor yourself in a real person. The impacts of technology can be lost unless you see how it truly impacted the average person. Also, I'm a geek for famous historical figures. The men who exemplified good, evil, and everything in between.

The one thing I find fascinating about these biographies is how people used to write. The books are filled with flowery prose and perfect grammar. And these aren't all formal letters or letters between lovers. Most of them are not scribbled to friends. When was the last time you sent or received a letter that can be quoted hundreds of years from now. The emails I get often look like:

'Sup,

Hahaha, you were blackout!So, bar, tonight?

Kk

When did we lose that love and respect for the language? Grammar has fallen to the waist side with the younger generation. It's seen as less as a tool and more of an encumbrance. You can get your point across eventually, so why bother memorizing and following all those stupid rules? It amazes me how many people don't know the difference between there, their, and they're, or its and it's, or comma splices. I mean, I like comma splices! I believe they should be grammatically okay (and I will debate you to my death if you disagree) but I know not to use them. Ask most people and they have no idea what they are.

Ah...that's my rant. I'm a lover of language, so maybe it's just my button. I'm sure artists feel the same way about digital printers or something.

Until next time, watch your split infinitives.

Your friend,

McGonz

Careers

2010-05-06T23:30:00.000-07:00

I'm a big believer in constant growth. We teach our children that this world is a mysterious, exciting place, with more to learn and more to experience that you can dream of. Yet, somewhere along the way, even though we're still teaching the lesson, we no longer believe it. I think it has something to do with finding the almighty career. When you have a job, a shitty, soul crushing, if I do this one more day I'm going to take a bath with the toaster, job, you're future is still so brilliant. You're present is terrible, but it's only temporary. You have plans, you have schemes, you have hopes, you have goals. You may not even be one of those people who know in their guts who they are and what they should be doing, but that doesn't matter, because you can do anything. You can quit that shit job in the middle of your shift, leave the country, find something wonderful and new. You may never do it, but you can. And then you get the career. For most people it won't be a doctor, or lawyer, or police officer. It will be a career you never wanted to do as a child, that no child would ever want. It's in an office, dealing with the minute details of a company that really no one gives a flying fuck about. But it has great pay, good benefits, vacation time, and it seems...fine. It gives you all the things you need and all it wants back is half of your soul. Not even the good half. Not the half you use to feel love and compassion and wonder. Just the half with the passion. How often do you need it in real life anyways? Is it more important than a house, a new car, a vacation every year?

I'm a writer. It is in my marrow. But I am extremely human. If I find the career that isn't writing but will take care of me, I would take it. And I would lie to myself, saying I can still write, that it will still happen. But it won't.

So here's too shitty jobs at shitty restaurants until I find that career that won't take my soul.

Your friend,

Kris McGonegal

How's TWoP Going, McGonz?

2010-04-29T23:18:00.000-07:00

Why, thanks for asking, reader! I have begun my TWoP sample. It's going to be a recap of Nip/Tuck's pilot episode. I thought that it was a good choice for a few reasons:

A) TWoP doesn't currently cover Nip/Tuck, so I wouldn't be stepping on any toes.

B) The show is cheesy as hell, so it's perfect to rip on.

C) I've watched most of the series, so I know the characters and general theme pretty well (hint, everyone's as an asshole, there is no theme.)

I know the likely hood of me getting a job from this is slim. Maybe impossible. But you don't know. Maybe they'll be blown away. Maybe they'll keep me on file and offer me something down the line. It's a dream that I can pursue, so I might as well.

I've been reading a biography on Einstein, and found that he didn't get a job for years after he finished college. I got a job within a couple of months. Now, I'm not comparing myself to Einstein, but if I was, at this stage of our lives, I'd be winning. I just need to change the world in the next couple of years to keep that up.

Your friend,

McGonz

Today is the Day I Officially Became a Freelance Writer

2010-04-26T18:20:00.000-07:00

Well...doesn't the title explain it all? I've been published. I wrote something and am going to get paid for it. Yay! Yay, yay, yay! If you want to check it out (and I know you do) here is the link.

So...what's next for a fledgling writer like me? Do I rest on my laurels? Well, no, because I'm still poor as hell and one freelance writing job isn't going to pay for much. Now that I have some experience under my belt, it's time to get a little ambitious. TWoP ambitious. I'm not sure how they do there hiring, and I'm sure it's not from people just randomly sending emails and samples, but I'm going to do it! I've been a fan of TWoP for years, and a constant poster. There are quite a few writers over there I admire (if you haven't read something by Jacob, Sara M, or Demian, you haven't live) and to join those ranks would be amazing. So, starting today I'm going to work on the funniest, groin grabbingly amazing sample I can do. Wish me luck.

And 6round.com , you are awesome.

Your Friend,

McGonz

Life as I Understand It

2010-04-21T18:10:00.000-07:00

Alright, I wasn't too descriptive with my last post. I do have a job. It's at 6round. I'm writing posts about social media and the culture it has created. Check out my article about making friends online. It will change your world! Or, you'll find it kind of interesting. One of those two.

If you've been reading my blog, you know that I'm a fan of American Idol, and a devote Worster. Tim Urban! I am currently watching Idol Gives Back. Is there anything closer to hell on earth? I mean, it's nice that they're helping disadvantaged children, but 2 hours? 2 freakin hours? Do young people watch this and not fall asleep out of boredom? I mean, it's depressing, the performances are terrible (I'm looking at you Alicia Keys) and the shit we actually care about (who gets voted off) gets squeezed between George Lopez and Jonah Hill. George Lopez and Jonah Hill! That is what ugly death looks like. McLovin was a long time ago, Jonah.

Alright, lets get real for a moment. Relationships. I am getting frustrated with them. Call me crazy, but meaningless sex doesn't have the same thrill it used too. Yet, as a 21 year old, try finding another 21 year old who wants to do anything but have meaningless sex. Dating sites are huge for people my age, but I'm worried I'm never going to find that special someone. I'm too young to think like that, you say? Well, you're right. Stop being so uppity.

I swear to God, if my friends keep dragging me to clubs to "find" someone, I'm going to have a fewer friends. Do you know who likes clubs? Young girls. Do you know who doesn't like clubs? Young guys. Ask 10 guys, and I bet you 9/10 would rather sit in a pub with some friends, have some draft beer, and maybe listen to a band. One day, I will destroy the club industry. No clue how I'm going to do it yet, but I'll get there.

So that was a barely coherent rant. Thanks for reading it!

Your friend,

McGonz

I Got a Job!

2010-04-18T14:59:00.001-07:00

It’s the day I’ve been waiting for. I got a job! Two jobs in fact. One is a crappy job job that will pay the bills and suck out my soul. The other is a writing job. It’s writing posts for round6.com.

Not too much to say. Just going to celebrate.

Your Friend,

McGonz

Sample 2: A crash

2010-04-14T00:28:00.001-07:00

History is a strange beast. Many people ignore it, finding the lessons of the past to be irrelevant to their day to day lives. What these people don’t realize is that the phrase “history repeats itself” isn’t just a fun saying. It’s a fact that the world has witnessed and suffered through time and time again. A lesser known aspect of history is that it has a sense of irony and a sick sense of humour.

This sick sense of humour is present in the Polish Air Force crash. For those of you unfamiliar with the tragedy, on April 10th a plane was carrying basically the entire government of Poland to Russia. Some top officials included the President of Poland Lech Kaczynski, his wife and First Lady Maria, the joint chiefs of staff (army, navy, air force) the president of the national bank, head of the National Security Bureau, three deputy parliament speakers, the Polish foreign minister, and many more. In easy terms, an airplane killed a government.

Why were these people all together and why were the headed to Russia? That’s where history’s twisted humour comes into play. They were all headed to Russia to attend an event that marked the 70th anniversary of the Katyn Massacre. The Katyn Massacre took place shortly after the Soviet Union invaded Poland in World War 2, and left over 20,000 people dead. The government officials who were trying to respect and remember one of Poland’s greatest tragedies ended up involved in another one.

In sheer cost of life the event may seem trivial to some. There were only 96 people on board. In terms of death caused by an airplane crash, that doesn’t even crack the top hundred. But anyone who was alive when President Kennedy was assassinated can empathize with the Polish people today. No one alive on that day will never forget where they were or what they were doing. Neither will the millions of Polish people around the world forget April 10th, 2010.

Another tragedy of the crash was that the Polish government was trying to thaw relations with Russia. Even though the Soviet Union, and with it communism, fell over 20 years ago, the wounds are still raw and open between the nations. It is difficult to forget what Russia did to Poland in World War 2, even if Russia was under a different name. Instead of healing the wounds, salt has been sprinkled on them. Conspiracy theorists are quick to latch onto the fact that the plane went down in Russian air space. The grieving need to blame someone, and the country that has wronged them so many times is an easy choice.

Although it may not feel like it to the average North American, the world has changed a little bit. In what ways and how it will effect everyone is still to be seen. History has dealt Poland a horrible hand. Today, lets grieve for them as we would our own president’s death and hope that one day they can forgive.

Sample 1: An Idol's Decline

2010-04-13T22:51:00.000-07:00

There’s something addictive about American Idol. How else can you explain the 20 plus million people who tune in every week? Sure, people sing, and that’s entertaining, but the quality of the singers is usually far below what you can hear by simply turning on a radio. And on a results show night it’s nothing but an hour of shameless product placement and waiting to see who gets kicked off. You could easily find out the next day without sitting through the Idol’s Ford Focus commercial, yet 20 million people sit glued to their televisions, waiting to see who stays and who goes. I don’t blame them. I am an Idol addict. The fun isn’t so much the singing, but picking a couple of favourites and watching them win out against the people you don’t care about or the people you don’t like. And before that you get to watch deluded people try out in the auditions, and later a hundred teens come close to bare knuckle boxing each other during Hollywood week. But this season, something is just not right. Idol is in decline and in a big way.

For starters, the quality of singing is low. Not just “I’ve heard better,” but “I could do better.” The majority of the performances sound like bad karaoke. There are contestants on the show, like Andrew, Katie, and Mike who obviously have no chance at a career and shouldn’t have made it past the top 24. For years you could expect to tune in and watch some pretty good performances. But this year it seems like only one contestant, Crystal, consistently brings it. The rest stay entrenched in mediocrity while sometimes falling into horrible territory. Bad performances are fun at the beginning, but by the top 12 (or top 11, 10, 9) you expect the best of the best.

Not only are the singers off, the judges are too. Lets face it, Randy has never been that useful. His shtick is “yo” “dawg” and name dropping. Only 1 out of 10 comments are understandable, and 1 out of 20 useful. He’s best ignored. But Ellen. She was going to fill the shoes of Paula. She was going to be the new fun judge, and not in a drunk drug addict way. But she’s not. It seems like she’s barely there. Her advice is worse than Randy’s and her jokes are weak. This season has ruined her. Don’t get me started on Kara, who personality seems to consist of stupidity and awfulness. And Simon. Poor Simon. Some people are conspiracy theorizing that he’s torpedoing this season, but I just think he’s completely given up. It has been 9 years, and his last group are being outshined by the kids of Glee.

I’m still an Idol addict, but I have had to find news ways of being entertained. I’m a part of Vote for the Worst, which intentionally votes to keep the worst contestants in the competition, teaching them if they let the bad ones through, we’re going to keep them in. Still, I miss the days of being blown away.

Creation Myth

2010-04-10T00:15:00.000-07:00

I've always been fascinated by the various creations myths in the world. There's something so...awe inspiring about them. They deal with emotions that we don't even have names for and reflect back so much about ourselves.

I guess the most popular one would be genesis. Adam was in paradise, got lonely, God made Eve from a rib in Adam, she was tempted by the snake to defy God, and they both were thrown out of paradise.

What strikes me as beautiful about the Adam and Eve story in the loneliness. Not the loneliness that Adam feels, but the loneliness God must have felt. How long was he alone before he decided to create everything? How desperate for a companion...a friend, he must have been if he created the whole universe for one little man.

I believe for any creation myth to feel real, it must have that sense of loneliness. If it doesn't, why are we here?

Just my thoughts for the day,

Your friend,

McGonz

My writing

2010-04-07T21:22:00.000-07:00

I decided to put up a sample of my writing up. I'm a big fan of fiction. I mean, I love fiction. I believe the world would be a better place if everyone read We Need to Talk About Kevin and a life without Stephen King isn't a life I want to lead. But I'm not posting any of my fiction right now. I'm posting a piece of work I'm quite proud of. It was a feature I wrote in college and got an A+ on. This was big for me because it showed me that I wasn't just a fiction writer, but an actual writer.

Hope you enjoy it,

Your Friend,

McGonz

My heart beats quickly in my chest, my face flushed with anticipation. I am anxiously waiting in a grassy area which is caught between a busy intersection and a small forest. Although the night is cool with a nice breeze coming in from the west, I can already feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. Cars continuously roar pass, so I move behind some trees, blocking myself from the street view. I hope to God nobody finds me like this. I breathe in deeply and mentally prepare for what I’m about to do: I’m going to learn how to ride a bike.
I am a twenty one year old man, and before this night I have never sat on a bike before. At least, I’ve never sat on a bike that wasn’t attached to the floor and designed for exercise. That may seem ridiculous, but it’s true. During my childhood, there was no need to learn how to ride a bike. All my friends were only a couple of doors down, our street the social hang out. There was nowhere I wanted to go that my feet couldn’t get me to in 30 seconds. Of course, one day that changed. I moved and I grew up. My world grew, and was no longer limited to the Stacey’s house down the block, or the big tree one road over. There were malls, and movie theatres, and friends’ houses with pools, all miles away. A bike would’ve been the perfect means of transportation, but it was too late. I was twelve years old, and riding around with training wheels would’ve been humiliating. So I walked everywhere, taking the ribbing from my friends, and tried not to think too much about it.
And I haven’t thought too much about it, until tonight. I borrowed the bike from my cousin, not telling him that I intended to learn to ride for the first time, and that the odds that I was simply going to roll out into the street were pretty good. He assumed that I was actually going to go somewhere on it, and asked me if I had a lock. I lied and told him I did, again not telling him that I would be lucky if the bike carried me a foot. The bike is a hideous shade of yellow, the middle over taken by rust that is slowly starting to creep out to both ends. The numbers on the gears were worn away, I hated it at first sight, but took comfort that there wasn’t much I could do to hurt this piece of garbage. It was also very low, which seemed like a good idea, since it would make my inevitable trips to the ground less drawn out.
I wait for the next car to pass, and then begin. I put my right foot on the right pedal. The bike wobbles, but stays up. So far, so good. I lift my left foot and immediately fall to the ground. I pick myself up, trying again. This time I won’t be so bold as to try for the pedals. I raise my right foot an inch off the grass, breathe deeply, and raise my left foot. The bike tips over, but I’m prepared, stomping my foot down. Unfortunately, the back wheel slips in some mud and I immediately fall to the ground.
I keep this up for about 20 minutes, without any success in reaching my rock bottom goals. Although I’m becoming increasingly frustrated, I’m not surprised. Balance and coordination has always been a moving target for me. I come in just under 6 feet 4 inches, and spent most of my teenage years waking up to find I had sprouted up again. Finding my balance in everyday life was never completely easy, and finding my balance on a half inch of rubber seems impossible.
I fall once again, this time into a pine needle. I pick needles out of my sweater, happy for the break from yellow monster, and its seat that has lost most of its cushioning a long time ago. I have to admit, it’s beginning to look slightly hopeless. On a list of people most likely to successfully learn to ride a bike, I would probably fall somewhere at the bottom, just edging out a well trained cat. So why do it? Why waste a night bruising my leg and scratching my arm to gain nothing but the stares of complete strangers as they drive past? Maybe because I don’t like the idea of not trying something because I think I’m too old. As I age, things are going to change, and they’re going to keep changing. Will I shun the new because I will be embarrassed to learn what someone half my age can do with ease? Will I stay set in my archaic ways while everyone around me excels? Will I spend all my time walking to my friends’ pool when I could’ve been there long ago? Will I do all this just to save myself some embarrassment? I hope not, but it’s hard not to argue that I already started on that part early.
I get on the bike once again, and slowly lift my feet off the ground. This time I don’t fall, I just tilt to the left. I take a breath, straightening myself up. I’m kind of doing it! I’m not actually riding a bike, but I am sitting on one, which is a big step. In my excitement I put my feet down. I lifted my feet again, hoping it wasn’t a fluke. It wasn’t, I had found my balance on a half inch of rubber. I dared myself to put my put my feet on the pedals, and to slowly start pumping. I move forward, the grass breaking under my wheels. I am exhilarated. I’m not sure what to do, so I start hitting the little bell on the handle. It lets off a couple of weak tinkles and breaks off, landing beside the bike. I turn to look at, and immediately fall to the ground.
This time I don’t care that I’ve landed on my already bruised leg, or that the sorry hunk of metal is once again lying on the ground. I rode a bike. Even thought it took my twenty one years, and I didn’t even go a foot, I road a bike. I pick it up, smiling as I walk it home. I will never be a cyclist, never enter a bike race, and probably will never even ride a bike down to the corner store. But that was never the point. The point is that I did something that I was sure I could never do.

Human Evolution: From Hunters to Fatties

2010-04-06T18:44:00.000-07:00

I'm reading this fantastic book right now. It's called The Third Chimpanzee by Jared Diamond. It's about how we evolved from weird looking chimps, to hunters and gathers, to farmers and finally...whatever you want to entitle modern humanity. Consumers? Anyways, the book is mostly concerned about charting our evolution and finding animal precedents for some of our "unique" and strange behavior like art, drug abuse, language and genocide. It's all rather fascinating, but what I found more fascinating what Diamond didn't write about: our devolution along with out evolution. If you stripped us down and compared us to our hunter/gather ancestors, we lost something along the way. Mostly muscle mass.

I guess this my long, rambling way to say that I have to start dieting and exercising again. There are few prospects in the world that excite me less. Once you get into it and your body gets accustomed to the abuse it isn't so bad, but the first few weeks are always hell. And even though modern life has given us so, SO many advantages, it sorts of pisses me off that without a conscious attempt most of us could sit on the couch until our skin melds with the fabric. Is it really a sign of advancement that we all become the humans from Up?

I'm on the lucky end of the spectrum, since I'm 6'4, and unless I start consuming 10,000 calories a day the worst I'm going to get is a couple of love handles. Still, when we have products that allow you to eat without taking your hands out from behind the blanket, how many years until we're all just blobs weighing down the health system?

Wow...that was a rant! Anyways, guess what? I'm a little bit in demand as a writer. Nothing official right now, but a couple of nibbles that have got me pretty excited.

I will keep you updated,

Your Friend,

McGonz

Stood ups and Vote for the Worst

2010-03-31T20:55:00.000-07:00

Alright, I know, I know, I haven't written in a few days. Because I like to add something personal to my blogs, I will tell the truth. I got stood up on Saturday. Have you ever been stood up? It fucking sucks beyond description. First you have the initial stage where you are all excited and nervous. Then you get a little worried because it's getting close to the time you are supposed to meet and he still isn't here yet. Then you slowly go into denial, saying "he's just a little late, he's just a little late." And finally, you have the realization that no matter how long you wait, he ain't comin. Dante never wrote about the circle of hell for people who stand their dates up. It's an eternity of sympathetic stares and telling the waiter no, you are not ready to order yet.

Anyways, enough about my pathetic life. Lets talk about Americans' pathetic lives. Do you watch American Idol? No? Wonderful. Breed! Do it now and do it often. We need to spread those genes.

If you do watch American Idol you either A) know that it's the worst of America wrapped into a two hour long show, but find it funny or B) generally care about the show and its contest.

If you are in the B group...ugh.

If you are in the A group, welcome! Pull up a chair. Have you been watching this season? It is a fucking train wreck. Randy Jackson's desperation for attention had left him barely human, Ellen is slowly realizing what horror she is now a part of, Kara's search for a personality has been heart breaking, and Simon is already at the coat check. It's wonderful.

And the contests! Crystal is actually good. She maybe the best the show has ever had. Or she just may be okay and we don't realize it because the other contests suck SO bad. Except for Tim Urban. Tim Urban is a gift from God. He has circled all the way around from awful to amazing. He can barely sing and he knows it. He's nothing but a hot body with inexplicable hair and he's taking America by storm.

There's this site, Vote For The Worst, that, with the help of teen girls and gays everywhere, has kept him safe and warm. Vote for Tim! This shows a joke, so why not laugh along?

And now my writing. No news yet. And this is not a situation where no news is good news. No emails, no calls, nothing. You know what, fuck it. Until I get some news about my writing, I'm not going to talk about it anymore. It will just be more long, rambling posts are irrelevant pop culture. That's what we all want anyways.

Your Friend,

McGonz

Date Night Tommorow Night

2010-03-26T18:37:00.000-07:00

Woot, I got a date for tomorrow night. Someone's going to get some! Someone's going to get a little lucky!

Well, that might've been a little inappropriate. Lets get back to my writing. I'm sending out my two Canadian Writer's Journal entries on Monday. That's kind of exciting.

Lets talk about an issue near and dear to my heart: how hard it is to meet guys, especially in a not overly large town. I mean, where do you meet people? Through friends? The pool of gay guys in small towns is pretty small. The likely hood of a friend knowing another gay person your same age is pretty slim. A bar? God no. Gay bars are just the worst. Night clubs are just the worst. Pubs aren't so bad, but unless your gaydar is finely tuned you are in for an awkward. I met my friend on plentyoffish.com. I got lucky.

So, wish me luck.

Your friend,

McGonz

Good day

2010-03-25T00:18:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those really fulfilling days, work wise? I just did. I didn't get a job or hear back from any magazine, but still...it was good. I finished my Writer's Journal story, polished up another story, and sent out, what I think, is an excellent sample piece for Product Wiki.

I know I was a downer with my effort shock post, but there's an upside to that. When you forget about the effort and the future and all that may or may not come with it and enjoy what you're doing in the moment. I think anyone with a passion can relate to that. Maybe you'll never be signed to a huge record label, but when it's you and that guitar, do you care? When you see yourself in a painting, do you care that it may never hang beside Van Gogh?

Not much else to say. Just a good day.

Your friend,

McGonz

Effort Shock

2010-03-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

If you've never visited Cracked.com or read David Wong's blog, than you are missing out. The specific post I'm talking about here is Effort Shock.

I agree with almost everything he said and find myself going through the same type of "shock." Something about our modern culture makes us believe that with a enough effort everything will just fall into our lap. We learn that we could be president one day if we just try hard enough. Innate intelligence and more importantly, luck, rarely enter the lessons we teach our children. We don't tell little Johnny that no matter how hard he tries, no matter how hard he works, he may just end up average. We never tell little Sarah that she has limitations and she should try to stay within them.

Should we tell our children this stuff? No, of course not. But it doesn't make it easier when you find out that no, life has no guarantees. The universe may smile on you one day or it may ignore you forever.

I'm working hard, I really am, and I will continue to do so. But I'm also scared. I have no net. I thought I would go into the world and be a writer and that would be that. I knew I would have to pay my dues, but it never really occurred to me that they wouldn't be paid back.

So I keep going forward, because every once in a while you get really lucky. No one ever became the president by not trying.

Your Friend,

McGonz

Descriptive Language

2010-03-21T14:06:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if I have an interesting little tale to start off this post. Hmm...

Anywho, the goal for today is to work on my descriptive language skills. I find that is the weakest part of my writing, and the part I struggle the most with. I can write dialogue like a motherfucker, but when it comes down to describing a field, not so great.

Yeah...not much going on today. Same old thing. I'm hoping tomorrow is better.

Your friend,

McGonz

HeavenSkyy

2010-03-19T21:24:00.001-07:00

Well, I'm published. Kind of. I found this cool new website, kind of like a community blog, where you can post any kind of writing and have people comment on it. They also have some contests. It's not the New York Times, but it's still pretty neat, and hopefully a couple of positive comments will stop me from getting to discouraged. You can find it at heavenskyy.com.

I'm on my second draft of the short story I've been writing. It can only be 1,500 words, so I've adopted Hemingway's Iceberg Theory. Obviously, I'm no Hemingway, but I've actually been enjoying the constraint of the word count. It's interesting to think more about what you don't want to say than what you do want to say. He did say Baby Shoes ("For sale: baby shoes, never worn.") was his best work.

My short story is about a woman banished from a wonderful place. We don't know why. The story follows her leaving and the realizations she has. I realized today a lot of my fiction revolves around loss. Whether it be the loss of home, death, or a estranged friend. It's kind of weird. Also, my stories are never very happy. But I find that less weird. I mean, fairy tales are bullshit. There is no happily ever after. I don't mean to be emo, because that's not who I am at all, but I've always found that true happiness is short lived. Which is should be. I mean, what is happiness without struggle? What is sleep without ever being awake. God! I sound like I just took philosophy 101. Not to be a tool, but I think a lot of life is bittersweet. And that's enough rambling for me.

So, the weekend is here, and as a poor unemployed bastard that means very little.

Have one one me.

Your friend,

McGonz

Mao

2010-03-18T20:18:00.000-07:00

Aw...spring is here. In mid March...which is a bit strange, but who are we to complain? I've decided that I'm going to quit smoking, start jogging again, and get into sick shape. I kind of want to look like Tim Urban from American Idol. God...that body is fucking amazing. I wouldn't own a single shirt if I looked like that. If I could vote, I would vote for him. I mean, he sucks, but my lord. And the hair! Anytime my hair gets to long I look homeless.

Anywho, the reason my title is "Mao" is because I just got done reading a fantastic biography: Mao The Unknown Story. I would highly suggest it to anyone with even a mild interest in history or modern day China. It follows Mao (the man who brought communism to China after World War 2) through his life as a peasant boy to his lonely death. He is responsible for the death of an estimated 70 million people, which makes him, in sheer cost of human life, worse than either Stalin or Hitler. Now, the book is being fiercely debated, with some people calling it rubbish. I don't know, I checked out some of the numbers, and while the authors do state the higher figures in their estimates, every event they record is completely true. I think the problem for a lot of people is the tone the writers take. It's unabashed hate. Which...worse than Hitler. I don't care if the man is still worshiped in China (which makes China pretty damn scary) he was a monster.

Wow...that was a huge block of text. Lets move on. With no writing yesterday, I decided to go full steam ahead today. I've applied for a non paying job, a paying job, and am still working on my entry in the Canadian Writer's Journal short fiction contest.

I'm kind of excited about the non paying gig. I've submitted a short story that I feel is pretty damn good, but no one seems to want to publish. I don't know, maybe it's the case of loving your child so much you don't realize he's been sniffing glue. If it's not published, I'm publishing it here. Someone, somewhere has to love my glue sniffing baby like I do.

Alright, back to work.

Your friend,

McGonz

A Day Without Writing

2010-03-17T19:38:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if it was the McDonald's I ate, or the left over McDonald's I ate later, but I'm just not feeling the writing today. I know you have to keep at it, but...eh, anything I would write today would suck anyways.

So if I'm not going to write about writing, what am I going to write about? Huh...

Lets just call today a wash.

Your friend,

McGonz

50 Great Short Stories

2010-03-16T23:35:00.000-07:00

Has anyone else read the book 50 Great Short Stories? I know this is almost blasphemous, but I am really not impressed. Maybe it's because I have trouble appreciating the stories in the times and social setting they were written, but The Garden Party, The Standard of Living, and Brooksmith are completely meaningless to me. They're well written, but I can't identify with any of the characters or the settings. If nothing can be taken away from a short story, isn't it now dated and archaic? I hate to speak for everyone, since many people might love these stories, but to me the only reason these are considered great is because they've always been considered great.

Wow...weird tangent. Anyways, the writing life is going good. I sent away for a job today and I'm hoping this will be the one I hear back from. I have a feeling it won't though. I'm putting most of my hopes in a short story contest as my big break through. I'm thinking if my huge, 11 page story gets rejected I might just put it on here. It's not the idea place to be published, but at least it's out there.

I'm always feeling my way around blogging. I've spent the last hour trying to figure out how to check how many visitors I've had to the site. Right now it would only be me, but hey, maybe interest will catch on. I have to tell you, Google Analytic is a bitch to figure out.

Well, no big plans for the week, other than writing. Also, no big news in my life. Hoping this start looking up.

Until later,

Your Friend,

McGonz

Another Monday

2010-03-15T16:05:00.000-07:00

Ah...Monday, when the gainfully employed march back to their offices and when the unemployed look ahead to the week ahead. Is there a job in the near future? Where will it come from? The questions Monday brings.

I did find an ad for a social media enthusiast/tea enthusiast. Kind of strange pairing, but I think I would be somewhat decent at it. I know social media, obviously, and I know tea. I actually know a shocking bit about tea. Also, I know morse code. There's a distinct possibility I'm not very cool.

But I'm also looking for a real job i.e. somewhere you go for 8 hours, do something menial, get payed very little. It looks like I'm back in the fast food services. I thought I had escaped when I got a job at Cole's bookstore (best job ever), but I've been dragged back in. Student loan payments are coming up, and I feel like watching the Amazing Race won't pay for them.

I found out that no one in my family reads my blog. I also have no followers. So here's to you, the hollowing darkness of the internet!

Your Friend,

McGonz

Lost Friday

2010-03-12T18:55:00.001-08:00

Alright, lets get one thing straight: Lost is the most amazing show this earth has ever seen. If Lost was a religion, my ass would be in that church every week. I got my dad and his girlfriend hooked tonight. They lost (ha!) their minds when they found out Locke used to be in a wheelchair. I can't wait to see their reaction when Ethan shows up? Bam!

Lost is also great when you're kind of depressed. The search for a writing job isn't going great. I was expecting the rejection, but I wasn't expecting how hard it was to find jobs to be rejected from. Ninety percent of the jobs want a resume sent to them. Which I get...you want to hire someone who has a clue what they're going. But how exactly do you find a job when you need a resume and you feed jobs to build a resume? I think that's a Catch-22. I don't know...it's been five years since I read that book. Was it good? I can't remember if it was good. People say it's good.

But I'm not giving up. You don't need a resume to enter a writing contest! My dad is looking over my story that I'm going to submit to a literary magazine, and I'm going to start on the Canadian Writer's Journal short story contest. I'm not sure what I'm going to write about yet, but I have a feeling there's going to be a likable protagonist who meets some obstacles and becomes a better person for it.

Until than...Lost. And a generous amount of wine.

Your Friend,

McGonz

So It Begins...

2010-03-11T20:51:00.000-08:00

I've never had a blog before. I guess it's sort of like a diary, except the entire world can see it. So...not so much a diary.

Anyways, I'm 21 years old, Canadian (and damn proud of it), just out of college, a man,a gay man (and damn proud of it) and currently unemployed. I started this blog because I want to chronicle my journey becoming a writer. I guess so in the years ahead I can look back and see how low I started. Or laugh about how foolish I was with my hopes and dreams. There's a 50% I'm going to end up managing a McDonald's. Maybe that should be higher, but I'm an optimist.

They say everyone in the arts has to pay their dues. My dad is fond of telling me his KFC story, which is about how Colonel Sanders went to a thousand restaurants to pitch his deep fried chicken. He heard a thousand nos before he got one yes. It feels like this story isn't overly true, but it is inspiring after the 12th rejection this month.

To be fair, I don't have any place to whine yet. I haven't been at it very long, and while I threw a wide net concerning what jobs I would take as a freelance writer (horoscope writer and porn site reviewer were in there) I can't be too discouraged I haven't head back yet.

Tonight I'm going to finish my second to last draft of a short story I'm sending to a literary magazine. If anything comes of it, my readers will be the first to know (I think it's basically just you, Mom.) And this weekend I'm going to get wine drunk with my best friend Melissa and bitch about guys. They are the worst.

So, you know, wish me luck in my writing and drinking.

Your friend,

McGonz