3 a.m. ramblings

No particular theme to this post. I just need to keep myself awake so I can get ready for my early work day on time.

I suppose I could have gone back to bed after the cat woke me up. But I didn’t. I transcribed an email interview that needed to be done, then worked on critiques for a charity anthology that I’m part of (a project that is taking a much longer time than originally anticipated). Then I realized that if I went back to sleep I wouldn’t even get that much sleep. So here I am.

I could be working on the mockup of my husband’s cosplay cloak, but I just don’t think I should be handling scissors and sharp pins right now.

No blaming the cat today. I had the option of going back to sleep. Maybe I still will. Maybe not. Will one hour really make that much difference?

I could go to the apartment gym. Work on the stairmaster thingie. Or the rickety exercise bike. But I have a long day ahead of me, and I’m not sure I want to work out this morning. Plus, it’s fucking freezing outside this morning. Literally–32 degrees Fahrenheit. With snow. It may not be a long walk to the gym, but it’s still too long to be outside in that mess…even if the snow here is laughable for someone who’s lived in Ohio for a few years.

There’s the option of taking my shower early, thus waking myself up by scalding hot water. I hate getting ready too early, though. Early, yes, but not two hours before I have to leave for work.

So many choices. So little motivation to do any of them.

Fanfiction: Devotional or Uninspired?

Yesterday’s post had to do with the strange phenomenon of “shipping” when it comes to fictional characters and worlds. Today, I follow that up with a post about fanfiction, which is basically fans writing “episodes” of TV shows, movies, comics, etc.

My first question is this: Why fanfiction? Sure, some are just little short stories depicting something the fan wishes had happened on the show/in the comic/whatever. But some are epic, novel-length works about their favorite characters and worlds. It boggles my mind, because if you have enough imagination to write a novel, why not create your own world and characters? Why piggy back off of someone else’s characters? Is it really just to show your devotion to the show? Is it to make real the things you wish the show writers had put in there?

I admit, I’ve only written one novel, but I can say without a doubt that it’s my own novel. I didn’t base any of the characters or situations on something I had seen in someone else’s work. I took a character of my own making and created a cast that revolved around her.

Now, I’m not saying that I’m “better” than a fanfic author. That’s not what I’m saying at all. What I’m trying to say is, if you have that much creativity inside you, why not use it to create your own world? Maybe even write a novel that gets turned into one of your favorite TV shows or into a movie. You could have fanfic written about your original idea. Wouldn’t that be even more awesome? To be the origin of fanfic, not a perpetuator?

I don’t know. I could certainly write fanfic if I wanted to. I’m a terrible worldbuilder, so theoretically if I just snatch up someone else’s world and fiddle around with it it should be easier. Then again, I’m also selfish and narcissistic. I want something that I made. Something that wrote from my imagination. I want to be able to say, “I did that. I created those characters. I wrote the plot. Me.”

Sure, my plots might not be the most original. How does the saying go? Something about how no idea is truly unique anymore. Every story has already been written, and it’s only a matter of the spin you put on it. In that case, isn’t every story fanfiction? Every vampire story a fanfic of Brahm Stoker’s Dracula? Every tragic love story a fanfic of Romeo and Juliet?

Who knows. What I do know is that fanfiction is yet another area of fandom that I don’t fully understand. Why ship things that don’t exist? Why write from other peoples’ ideas instead of creating your own?

I may never know.

Sailing Away

Ships. They pull in and sail off, come and go.

And some of them make absolutely no sense.

I’m not talking about your average boat. I’m talking about relationships, specifically in books, TV shows, and movies. People see two characters who they feel should be together, and boom! A ship is born. It’s the biggest thing in fandoms lately, and it shows no sign of stopping.

The ships don’t even have to be characters that are in a scripted relationship. Sometimes they’re between characters that don’t have any romantic chemistry. Sometimes they’re even incestuous.

Why do we ship? Why do some fans rabidly defend their ships, often to the point of full-on fan wars? I mean slur-slinging, trash-talking, hate-mailing wars, all over fictional characters that may never have been in a relationship to begin with.

It’s a strange phenomenon, one that I don’t fully understand. At times I can see the chemistry that creates a fanborne ship, but for the most part it’s beyond my comprehension. Why invest so much energy in a fantasy world, especially one in which the thing you fantasize about doesn’t exist? Some fans even write fanfic (fan-authored fiction–a topic for another day, perhaps) or fanart (fanfic for the artist set) depicting their favorite ship.

I suppose I’m something of a purist. If the characters are written as being in a relationship, fine. If they’re written/played as having chemistry, okay. But non-canonical, non-romantic couplings that don’t make any sense? That just doesn’t jive with me. I don’t even like canon relationships without some sort of romantic vibe there to spark a ship.

The rabid nature of shipping also baffles me. You take a relationship that isn’t established and defend it to your dying breath. Friendships can be made or lost due to fandom ships. Is a fictional relationship really worth that kind of cost?

I, for one, don’t think so. I think shipping could theoretically be fun, if taken as the make believe that they are, but certainly not to the extent at which people are willing to go lately.

If your ship leaves the dock and sets sail, for the love of all that’s holy, just let it go. Don’t get in heated fights with someone you don’t even know over a fantasy. It’s not worth it.

Early to Bed, Early to Rise

Man, I’m old.

I went to bed last night at 2100–9:00 pm for those non-military/non-medical types. New Year’s Eve, and I cut out three hours before midnight. Where did my youth go?

Don’t get me wrong; the early morning hours sometimes help me to concentrate on things like writing and catching up on the non-day-job things I need to do. I’ve grown accustomed to the mornings where I sit and listen to music by the light of the computer screen. I don’t necessarily like getting up this early, but I do like that I can still get things done.

I think about my younger days (even just a few years younger), and I’m reminded that as I age my tolerance for partying decreases significantly. Sure, I’ll go out to dinner or movies with others. I’ll socialize at Phoenix Comicon (and this year, Dragon Con). But going to bars? Clubs? Wild house parties? Those are things of the past for me. And I’ve learned that I really don’t mind this.

I don’t know if it’s true what they say about wisdom accompanying this thing called aging. I’ve wised up to the fact that partying just doesn’t hold any appeal to me anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m wise. Far from it, I think. I still make mistakes–often the same ones repeatedly–and there’s a lot about life that I still don’t know. I have a lot to learn, which I guess is a good thing. In my opinion, once you stop learning things life gets pretty boring. What’s left after you’ve learned everything you can? How do you keep your mind sharp?

In the past five years I’ve gone from a night owl with chronic morning grogginess to a person who routinely wakes up before 4:00 a.m. and almost immediately starts doing something. That “something” may just be messing around on the laptop, but it’s still different from my pre-morning mornings, when I would sit up and wash my Ritalin down with an energy drink or two just to be able to function.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve stopped the Ritalin and replaced it with Adderal (Ritalin quit helping as well as it used to), and I still drink energy drinks or Frappuchinos, but I don’t need them the second I wake up like I used to, and I even forgo the caffeine if I feel awake enough to make do with water or lemonade or some such thing.

Yeah, I’m getting old. Tired all day, awake at nothing in the morning, going to bed early…but I’m still young, too. I can pick up new hobbies, I can write new things–I’m still able to grow and keep on trucking. So I guess I should look at that as a good thing and not try to obsess over the relative age. So I’m older. So I don’t live the exciting night life. So what?

I’m going to get up, get moving, and get things done. I’m just going to do them earlier.

Not everyone likes the same things as you (and that’s okay)

It happens. You get excited about something that you love, and you want to share it with the people you know. We’ve all done it. But what do you do when the people you care about don’t care about the same things you do?

Nothing. You don’t do a damn thing, and I’ll tell you why: because they have every right not to like something, just like you have every right not to like something that they like.

It’s called diversity. When people hear diversity, they think of things like race, religion, and gender (most often you hear about it in the context of the workplace), but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about human beings in general being a diverse people. We are each one of us unique, with our own likes and dislikes. No one thing, no matter how great it is, is going to make everyone happy. No book, TV show, recipe, political view…not a damn thing can do that. And that’s okay.

We live in a society where like-minded individuals congregate, which is great, but even like minds do not necessarily share all of the same likes and dislikes.

We are individual. We are unique. We are human.

And that’s okay.

Tears Unshed

I hate mental illness sometimes.

It just fucks everything up. I’m fine one minute, then sad the next. For no fucking reason. And it sucks.

There’s nothing that happened today to make me down, but since I’ve gotten home from work it’s started.

I feel hopeless. I feel like it’s never going to end–never mind that I don’t know what “it” is or why I want “it” to end. Don’t start freaking out though; I know that “it” isn’t life. I want life to keep going on. I don’t want that to end. Just…something.

It’s the usual depression symptoms. Loss of interest in the things I like to do. Withdrawal into myself. General malaise. It’s actually quite boring. I’m bored with depression. Go figure.

I’m just over it. Sick and tired of it. I need to kick my own ass into gear. Bust my chops. Smack myself upside the head and tell myself to quit whining and do something.

If only I could find the energy to do all that.

Mockingjay: Pure Entertainment, or Cautionary Tale?

So by now, I’m sure you’ve heard of the Mockingjay movies, as well as the first movie, The Hunger Games, and the sequel, Catching Fire. These movies have definitely caught fire in entertainment, marketing, and product lines, but is the message being lost?

I’ve both read the books and seen the movies. I know the differences between the two, and some of the more glaring differences are bothersome to me. The movies don’t have Katniss getting her iconic Mockingjay pin from a friend she didn’t even know she had in District 12. They don’t go into her fear of having children because she doesn’t want them to have to face competition in the Hunger Games.

These are two minor changes, but they are powerful messages that need to be conveyed. The symbol of the Mockingjay wasn’t something Katniss picked up in a marketplace; it was given to her by a friend, a precious commodity to Katniss in the harsh conditions of District 12. Her fear of having children was a powerful message, a sign of the desperation of the times. Being afraid to have a child because that child might have to compete in a battle to the death with other children? That is an enormous weight to carry, and to gloss over that is to do the books a great disservice.

Another thing that disturbs me is that the message of the story is lost in the commercialization of the films. We–I’m speaking primarily of Americans–have become complacent in our current political system. We protest, we gripe on Facebook, we post political memes and quotes…but what do we really do about it?

Now, I’m not suggesting full-on rebellion like in the books. I’m saying that we need to consider the situation we’re in. Sure, our political system has worked for a couple hundred years. Yeah, we had that Civil War in there, but y’know, we’ve been pretty much status quo for a while. Are we really operating in the right system right now, though?

You have basically two parties that are diametrically opposed. “Debates” become arguing sessions where nothing is accomplished. And don’t even get me started on TV coverage of politics. Ugh.

Our political system is a hot mess. Do I know how to fix it? Hell, no. I don’t get involved in politics because not only do I admittedly have only a basic understanding of the system, but also because I don’t fully agree with either side. I’m neither right nor left, black nor white, light nor dark. I’m in that grey area, that middle ground where I don’t feel strongly enough about any of the hot button topics to raise up my voice and speak out. And if I did, who would listen? My Twitter followers? My few Facebook friends?

Politics and social media don’t mix well, I’ve found–and yet I’m writing this blog post today. Why? Because I think we should do something. I don’t know what; I’m not smart enough for that. But maybe, just maybe, someone who is smart enough will read this and say, “Hey, she’s got a point. We don’t have to keep the system we have just because it’s what we’ve done for a couple hundred years.”

“Well, AJ,” you might say, “what exactly do you want us to do?” I honestly don’t know. I want us to not bitch about stupid things. I want us to be open to different ideas and different beliefs. I want something more.

Is there an “ideal” political system? Is it worth it to upend the current one only to wind up in a worse situation? Who knows. I don’t think the ideal political system has yet been found, because if it had someone somewhere certainly would have the common sense to say, “These people have got it right. This is what we need to do.” And then others with common sense would say, “Yeah, good point. Let’s do the thing.” And we would all do the thing, and world harmony and all that jazz.

Yeah, I know that’s not going to happen. Maybe some day in the far, far future, but certainly not my lifetime. And that sucks.

Inadequate

I see those around me

So successful, so confident

With interesting stories and interesting lives

I see their triumphs and their accolades

They rise up

And I stay stagnant

Nothing new, nothing remarkable

Just me

Safe, boring me

Where is my life going?

What am I doing that is special?

Even my accomplishments are trivial

The few things I can name as my own

So small, so insignificant

A tiny speck of space dust

In a universe of stars

The Simple Things in Life

A tasty lunch. Good music. Playing with a toy on a string.

Wait, what?

Okay, let me start over. The idea for this post came from watching my cat, Rory, playing with his newest toy. It’s a little fuzzball with a bell that’s connected to a stick by a thin metal wire (we have learned not to get a regular string toy–he chews through ribbons and satin strings), and it is apparently the most entertaining thing on the planet.

It got me thinking about the things that have made me happy today. I had a half day at work, which was nice after many recent weeks of overtime. I had a nice sandwich for lunch (after spending several minutes staring into the fridge trying to figure out what I wanted). I’m listening to my favorite playlist on Google Play. It’s not much, but it’s enough. I don’t need anything fancy, really.

I wish I realized this more often. I often complain about my work schedule, about writer’s block, about all kinds of things. I forget about the simple things that give me joy.

I’ll have to remind myself of these little things more often. The holidays are coming up, which usually means thinking about gifts and food and all that fun stuff. In recent years, I’ve been more concerned with what to get other people, but I still spend too much time thinking about what I want. Part of it is because people are asking me to come up with ideas–they’re thinking about what to get other people, too. But do I really need to do that? Can’t I just be happy with what I have and save my own money to get the things I want?

Maybe that will be a new New Year’s resolution. Enjoy the simple things more.