Editor’s note: Due to a completely unrelated attack from the Ether Bunny, this column was supposed to run yesterday. It’s just as swell today, but if you’re looking for Michael Davis’s column, well, it was run yesterday. However, when you’re done reading this, go read Michael by clicking here. Thank you.
There are days when I hate writing, just hate it, and this day and this moment is one of them.
Why? Because nothing is working. Absolutely nothing. I have, as of this moment, five different versions of this column in the works including this one. I don’t like any of them. I’m presently reduced to writing about how the writing is not going well. Sad, Isn’t it? Not something in which I’m likely to get a lot of sympathy for, though. I mean, a lot of people have to get up and go into jobs that they may not care for. They do it day in, day out, week in, week out, month in, month out and so on. Maybe they don’t ever get to love their job. I mean, I make my living writing comics. That should be fun, right?
Not today. Today I’m in hell.
Most days I really do love what I do. I get paid pretty nice for it. I have a really quick commute, from the kitchen into the back bedroom, which serves as the office. We had friends who lived with us for awhile and, in the morning, I’d wave to them as they went to work and announce I was beginning my commute, too. And then I amble away. They recently allowed how they wanted to kill me at those moments. I knew that. It was part of the smug job satisfaction.
Of course, there’s a downside to it. With the office so close to hand, it’s sometimes hard to get away from the office. Let me also say that, at the moment, I’m not too crazy about my boss, either. That’s creates a problem because he’s there in the mirror every time I use the bathroom. The Bastard doesn’t give me vacation time, damn few weekends off, and increases the workload any time he can pile it on saying, “Sure, we can do that. Tuesday? No problem.” That’s the joy of self-employment and being your boss, folks – you got nobody to blame but yourself. Bastard.
The rational side of me says that days like this happen from time to time. It’s normal. It’s happened before. Just ride it out. The irrational, craze-o side of me says OMIGAWD, I’M DEAD! I’M NEVER GOING TO WRITE AGAIN! I don’t think anyone who is artistic quite understands how it works – how it is we’re able to do what we do. Most of us don’t want to know. It’s magic. Alchemy. If you question it too close or ask about it too much, it’ll all go away. Writers are a cowardly and superstitious lot.
Maybe a blood sacrifice will help. No, Mary won’t let me get close to the cats when I’m in this mood.
I know what I should do. Just – walk away. Do something else. Clean something. Fix something. There’s lots of things around here that needs my doing one or the other or both. Eh, I don’t feel like it. I’m the mood for squalor.
Go take a nap. This happens sometimes when I get a little too tired and cranky. Naps are great things. It’s your own personal time machine. You go to sleep now and you wake up a little bit in the future.
I don’t want a nap. I took a nap. It didn’t take.
The Bastard insists I sit here until I get something going. The bills aren’t going to pay themselves, mister. You write something or you sit there and stare at that screen until you do!
Ghod, I hate him.
I’ll fix the Bastard. I’ll go online. Eh, I’ve already been to all my sites. Three times. Nothing new. I hate my computer. It’s blocking me. I know it. Glenn, our computer guru, keeps telling me not to bang my head against the computer. It probably isn’t helping me and he says it really isn’t good for the computer. Stupid computer.
I do NOT have writer’s block. I do not I do not I do not. I’m just intellectually and artistically. . .constipated. Maybe my imagination is having Erectile Dysfunction. ED. Sidenote: what a stupid name for thatmalfunction. ED. Mister ED. Why not call it what it is – Limp Dick Syndrome? That’s what’s wrong – my creativity is having a Limp Dick episode.
I know, I know. . .too much information.
I can’t believe I’m actually thinking of sending this in.
Look, folks, maybe we just need to call this off for the week, okay? Let’s just say I wasn’t able to come up with anything due to a Creative Limp Dick Episode (CLDE). I don’t know what this is but it sure as hell isn’t a column. Maybe next week, okay?
Or we’ll run an ad for an anti-CLDE drug. MUSE – so that when the time is right, you’re ready to write.*
* Warning: if you have a writing frenzy lasting longer than four hours, contact your editor. You may be writing career ending drivel.
John Ostrander writes GrimJack: The Manx Cat, new installments of which appear every Tuesday here on ComicMix, and much of Munden’s Bar, new installments of which will reappear anon here on ComicMix. Both for free. His new Suicide Squadmini-series is out there from DC Comics, and his Star Wars: Legacy is out there from Dark Horse, both at finer comics shops across the galaxy.
John Ostrander started his career as a professional writer as a playwright. His best known effort, Bloody Bess, was directed by Stuart Gordon, and starred Dennis Franz, Joe Mantegna, William J. Norris, Meshach Taylor and Joe Mantegna. He has written some of the most important influential comic books of the past 25 years, including Batman, The Spectre, Manhunter, Firestorm, Hawkman, Suicide Squad, Wasteland, X-Men, and The Punisher, as well as Star Wars comics for Dark Horse. New episodes of his creator-owned series, GrimJack, which was first published by First Comics in the 1980s, appear every week on ComicMix.
I feel your pain. Perhaps you should look at something on TV that will spark your imagination. I suggest…eh…how about…you can watch…Damn dude, I feel your pain.
I have a list of comics industry people who hate me. People who wish I would just die already and never write anything else ever again.When I get blocked, I look at that list.Then I started writing again.Tony Isabella
You have a list? HA! ROOKIE! I have a BOOK of comics industry people who hate me. People who just don't wish I would die but have tried to kill me. When I get blocked I simply walk around the grounds of my vast estate while drinking tea with my pinky out. Then I pick one of those people at random, call them and scream "HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW…B I T C H?"Join me Tony and together we can rule the empire!! By the way I AM YOUR FATHER!
That’s the joy of self-employment and being your boss, folks – you got nobody to blame but yourself. Bastard.It's also nowhere near as much fun to steal office supplies.I don't even want to talk about the sexual harassment. I swear, if I grope myself one more time…And stop banging your head against the computer. If you break it open and let the magic smoke out of the computer, it won't work anymore.
Hey, both John and I have worked for you. Self-abuse is an improvement. I understand Mark Waid still cries himself to sleep at night from the terrors. Of course, John's used to self-abuse, being an ex-Catholic and all.
"I don't even want to talk about the sexual harassment. I swear, if I grope myself one more time…" DUDE!! GET A GRIP. Oh wait you have. DUDE, get a girl!!
Isn't it What a good WIFE she could be?Good wife – fine girl -Ahh, Another song stuck in my head.Sigh -Hmm hmm hmmm . .. Yeah Brandy used to watch his eyes when he told his sailor's story She could feel the ocean fall and rise, she saw it's raging glory . . .
When I can't write – I draw. When I can't draw I compose music. When I can't compose music I exercise. When I have not zee RED I use zee BLUE. But mostly I just goof off. (That's just to reinforce the impression that most people have of us creative types with short commutes.)
After reading this thread, I turned to doing some editing-stuff (Black Ice, actually) and it dawned on my that this is Friday and I had some deadline stuff to do. Now, that might not be much of a revelation to those of you who work in a real office, but for those of us who work at home, either freelance or in a virtual office environment like ComicMix, sometimes you lose track of the day of the week. For one thing, we tend to work seven days a week.At least.
It's not the day of the week that i lose track of — it's which week of the month it is. Which MAY explain the state of my deadlines.As I recall, Mike, it was you who once called me and informed me I was past deadline and standing in the funeral line.
I tend to completely forget about holidays. Now, since I spend so much time online, I love the few hours a week that I get to work on my art. You guys can see some of it at http://beadwork.mjlayman.com.
ED — This reminds me of Grim Jack.I just recently had a stream of unconsciousness from this past weeks Manx Cat.John (Gaunt, not Ostrander) had a trippy encounter with a big green caterpillar, sitting on some kind of Mushroom, and the ipod in my head started to play 'White Rabbit.''Go ask Alice' has recently sounded to me like Cialis.Now John writes about CLDE.So Clyde is a better name for limp dick syndrome than Ed?I don't know about you, but LDS makes me think of Star Trek IV.And Speaking of John Gaunt again – what does he think about ED, and LDS remedies, I cannot say I have seen any in Sweet Cynical Cynosure, but a man of advancing age might be inclined to try.OK I might not have writers block but I guess I few readers might wish I did.
I feel your pain. Perhaps you should look at something on TV that will spark your imagination. I suggest…eh…how about…you can watch…Damn dude, I feel your pain.
I have a list of comics industry people who hate me. People who wish I would just die already and never write anything else ever again.When I get blocked, I look at that list.Then I started writing again.Tony Isabella
You have a list? HA! ROOKIE! I have a BOOK of comics industry people who hate me. People who just don't wish I would die but have tried to kill me. When I get blocked I simply walk around the grounds of my vast estate while drinking tea with my pinky out. Then I pick one of those people at random, call them and scream "HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW…B I T C H?"Join me Tony and together we can rule the empire!! By the way I AM YOUR FATHER!
That should be:"Then I start writing again!"Oh, for an editing function here.Tony
That’s the joy of self-employment and being your boss, folks – you got nobody to blame but yourself. Bastard.It's also nowhere near as much fun to steal office supplies.I don't even want to talk about the sexual harassment. I swear, if I grope myself one more time…And stop banging your head against the computer. If you break it open and let the magic smoke out of the computer, it won't work anymore.
"I don't even want to talk about the sexual harassment. I swear, if I grope myself one more time…"Thanks for sharing, Glenn.
Hey, both John and I have worked for you. Self-abuse is an improvement. I understand Mark Waid still cries himself to sleep at night from the terrors. Of course, John's used to self-abuse, being an ex-Catholic and all.
I didn't have to worry about SELF-abuse. I was an altar boy.
"I don't even want to talk about the sexual harassment. I swear, if I grope myself one more time…" DUDE!! GET A GRIP. Oh wait you have. DUDE, get a girl!!
Ha! Remind me to introduce you to Glenn's wife, Brandy. THAT thought will keep Glenn busy for a while…
Now that I think about it I do remember that Glenn HAS a girl and I hear what a fine girl she will be. I mean is.
Isn't it What a good WIFE she could be?Good wife – fine girl -Ahh, Another song stuck in my head.Sigh -Hmm hmm hmmm . .. Yeah Brandy used to watch his eyes when he told his sailor's story She could feel the ocean fall and rise, she saw it's raging glory . . .
When I can't write – I draw. When I can't draw I compose music. When I can't compose music I exercise. When I have not zee RED I use zee BLUE. But mostly I just goof off. (That's just to reinforce the impression that most people have of us creative types with short commutes.)
After reading this thread, I turned to doing some editing-stuff (Black Ice, actually) and it dawned on my that this is Friday and I had some deadline stuff to do. Now, that might not be much of a revelation to those of you who work in a real office, but for those of us who work at home, either freelance or in a virtual office environment like ComicMix, sometimes you lose track of the day of the week. For one thing, we tend to work seven days a week.At least.
It's not the day of the week that i lose track of — it's which week of the month it is. Which MAY explain the state of my deadlines.As I recall, Mike, it was you who once called me and informed me I was past deadline and standing in the funeral line.
Yeah, I can be quite funny in the face of impending doom.
I tend to completely forget about holidays. Now, since I spend so much time online, I love the few hours a week that I get to work on my art. You guys can see some of it at http://beadwork.mjlayman.com.
Ah, nothing reaps in the comments like a meta-post! Fun essay, John.
ED — This reminds me of Grim Jack.I just recently had a stream of unconsciousness from this past weeks Manx Cat.John (Gaunt, not Ostrander) had a trippy encounter with a big green caterpillar, sitting on some kind of Mushroom, and the ipod in my head started to play 'White Rabbit.''Go ask Alice' has recently sounded to me like Cialis.Now John writes about CLDE.So Clyde is a better name for limp dick syndrome than Ed?I don't know about you, but LDS makes me think of Star Trek IV.And Speaking of John Gaunt again – what does he think about ED, and LDS remedies, I cannot say I have seen any in Sweet Cynical Cynosure, but a man of advancing age might be inclined to try.OK I might not have writers block but I guess I few readers might wish I did.