Ruin Your Interests

I don't always have writer's block. Sometimes I experience writer's reluctance. It's not that I can't think of anything to write, or even that I'm reluctant to write, rather, it's that I don't want to ruin the ideas I do have. I have to imagine that, for those who don't write regularly, this may be a strange concept. 

Considering I sometimes struggle just to commit words to a page you'd think that I'd take the first idea that came to mind, so long as I could grab hold and run with it. Fresh ideas are also the most fulfilling to write, and that is where their magic lies. An unused idea can sometimes feel as though it has an almost indefinite shelf life so long as you keep it in your head. Of course, why would you keep a great idea in your head when you could splay it on a page? Well, for me at least, it's because I want to do the idea justice. 

If you've ever seen an excellent idea ruined by poor execution then you can probably relate. When writing about my interests, about the things I really care about, I naturally want to make them the best that I can. In writing about something for the first time there is a lot of zeal that sometimes doesn't return in the same way when revisiting a subject. And especially in the case of writing for an audience, such as with a blog where your first draft is frequently also your final draft, there aren't a lot of people who want to read six different reworks while you iron out the kinks. Of course I could also go ahead and do just that, since my primary focus is on practice and not audience. However, I like to consider this blog and No Book Unread to be simultaneous studies on both writing and marketing. (Although to be honest I really hate the term marketing and many of the words related to it for reasons I can explain succinctly.)

There are other issues with using an idea for the first time as well. The first time you write about a particular idea is when you'll be the most passionate, and often the most creative, at least for many revisions. So it can be tempting to frequently re-shelf an idea until you feel you are more proficient. Thinking on that now, that probably deprives me of a lot of ideal practice material. On the other hand, it also brings me to my next point. Writing about your favorite subjects can be very draining, especially because you want to properly convey your love of the subject. This typically results in two things; one, that you rarely feel satisfied with what you've written, and two, that you get bored with the subject and don't touch it for a while. That is, you run the risk of ruining your interests, even if only temporarily.

I should make some more attempts at working with my favorite subjects regardless, as the old adage 'How you practice is how you perform.' has proven true more than once. Writing isn't the only case in which I've kept my favorites 'in reserve', and in previous cases the things I didn't care for as much ended up being becoming what I was better with in the long run. Which just goes to show that if I really want to do my favorite subjects justice I need to practice them, which may mean botching them terribly. So, I guess that will be my first new bit of advice to myself, as well as the first new entry on my writing guidelines list. 

Note to self: Ruin your interests.

From Writing Block to a Block of Writing

Supposedly, the best remedy for writer's block is to just write anyways. According to the advice it doesn't matter what you write, or even that it is any good, the act of writing will clear away the block. The advice is sound, but it seems to me that it is more of a workaround than an actual remedy. Generally speaking, if you have writer's block you have one of two problems: a) You are bereft of ideas, or b) You have an overabundance of ideas. The idea behind writing anyways is that either you'll figure out what to write about or that you'll get some writing done regardless. So, even if you don't know what to write you might still end up with a nice block of text. The problem is that I feel the advice doesn't actual help with the actual issue.

Writing even though you are experiencing writer's block will still give you the benefit of having written something. The question is, does that writing benefit you? If all you're going for is practice, then sure, you gain a little benefit. If you were hoping for some quality content, however, I'd argue that you are pretty much out of luck. The best you might hope for are some good ideas or a few particularly good lines that you can transplant into something worthwhile. 

The thing about writing through a writer's block is that the problem isn't actually solved right away. You're essentially just breaking the damn so that you aren't still stuck the next time you sit down. If you'll excuse some bathroom imagery, it's like a stuck toilet. You can grab your plunger and jam it down in there. That will clear the block but you haven't actually achieved what you set out to do until you flush it all down. It's the same for writer's block. And on that subject, writing through writer's block is about as enjoyable as plunging a clogged toilet too. 

At its best working through a block can help you figure out what you actually want to write, in much the same way that doing anything when you're bored can help you realize what you actually wanted to do. At its worst though working through it can feel as though you've wasted an afternoon. Essentially, writer's block sucks. A writer writes though, and the advice to write something, anything, is still the most effective solution I've come across yet. If nothing else you are doing what a writer is supposed to be doing, even if the result looks like you murdered a dictionary. 

Raise Your Hand for For Robot Arms

Have you ever wanted to trade your organs in for 'upgrades'? Hey, don't give me that look, it's a valid question. Especially since the general consensus is that we are living in the future now it's something you might want to start considering. To clarify though, just so no one thinks I have some good offers on black-market kidneys, what if you could upgrade parts of yourself?

Perhaps it's because I've been playing Xenosaga lately, but the question has been on my mind. If you have even a passing interest in science fiction perhaps the question of body modification has crossed your mind as well. Supposedly, when the future arrives, we are likely to be split down the middle with indecision and heated debate over which is better: biological engineering or bio-mechanization. In other words, raise your hand if you want to be genetically enhanced super-human. Good, now for those of you who didn't raise your hands you'll be getting robot arms and possibly part of a super computer in your brain to help you dwell about your life as you lie awake at night. Last, those of you who opted for neither are part of the 'purist' group, you'll get to enjoy being overshadowed by all your peers who opted for either genetic engineer or robot parts. 

I kid. Sort of. There are some really smart people though who honestly believe that this is going to happen at some point in the future. I even watched a documentary called The Singularity which interviewed a scientist who believed man and machine would eventually merge. Perhaps he's not too far off the mark though, even if he was a bit over-optimistic on the timeline. Even now we are already using technology to prolong our lives, pump our blood, filter our blood, even to help us reproduce. Who's to argue that we won't eventually become the equivalent of elves, and beyond that, reach a point where it's only natural to seek body upgrades for quality-of-life.

To be honest I don't feel that I can really argue the point about whether or not the whole body upgrade phase will ever happen. I don't think it's a matter of if but when. Of course, I also believe that it's not going to be a matter of which but rather which first. Seriously, why choose sides in these things? I never understood the concept that machine integration and biological engineering were mutually exclusive in the long run. If you look at history, even relatively abrupt changes have a natural progression to them and this supposed Singularity, the merging of man and machine, doesn't have to mean that humanity abandons being human for functionality of being a machine. 

Ignoring the whole concept of Artificial Intelligence, for the time being, why can't you have some sweet robot arms but a bio-engineered power supply for said robot arms? Why can't you have computer aided logic as part of your brain and biologically enhanced reflexes? The future, to me, doesn't so much seem to be choosing a side but instead determining where you would fall on a scale. Certainly I think some people would be much happier just outright replacing some of their more finicky organs with some form of machinery  if they felt it would help them live more comfortably day to day, while others would prefer to 'keep their parts' as it were and just attempt to improve or remedy existing functions. Somewhere in-between there is also the whole nano-machines argument. While, strictly speaking, nano-machines are technically a unification of man and machine it seems to fall somewhere more in the middle, as the general concept behind nano-machines is that they are supposed to enhance instead of replace. 

When it comes down to it I'm pretty comfortable with either option these days. Robotic eyes? Sure, as long as I don't have to pop them out and clean them every other day. I'm lazy, and this is supposed to be the future damnit. When it comes down to it I feel like it's hard to lose your humanity just by swapping out a few parts. We humans are remarkably adaptable and pretty much anything we change will naturally become a part of us because that's just how our brain works. Now, when the day comes when we can trade our brains for digital ones, maybe then I'd think twice. Our brains are a massive part of what makes us who we are, so I'd have a hard time accepting the argument that transferring a copy of your brain to a computerized version is 'the same as you were'. Then again, I'd be surprised if we are able to create a computerized replica of the human brain in the next four-hundred years. 

Of course, there is one part that I especially dread with the coming age of human enhancement more than anything else. The emails. 'DON'T JUST ENLARGE YOUR TROUSER SNAKE, MAKE IT PREHENSILE!!!' 
You know it will happen, and it kinda scares me.

Don't Shoot the Mechanic

I was sitting and enjoying the weather, a perfect 76 degrees with a light breeze. I was lost in the middle area of another book, Dragonwing this time, almost oblivious to the world around me. 
"Your car is ready." 

I looked up from my book. I was in the waiting area at my local mechanic; the windows and door were open to take advantage of the nice weather. A warm breeze wafted through, I suddenly wished that I was still lost in my book. I walked up to the window 

"That will be $246.52."

I must have made a face because the lady behind the counter looked apologetic and said something to the effect of "Yeah, I know it adds up quick."

I experienced a mild sense of deja vu. Or maybe I was just overwhelmed by a sudden resurgence of memories. In either case this scene seemed to have reoccurred quite frequently over the last few months. This time it was tires and an oil change. Last time it was a new manifold for the exhaust system. The time before that one of the rear calipers decided it had had enough of my shit and ate through the break pads before moving on to the rotor, which made a lovely grinding noise, like a slab of granite was stuck in the wheel-well, for about a week before I could afford to get it fixed. I blamed the other rear caliper for being a bad influence, as it had screwed up only a few months previous.

To be fair our car, a Nissan Altima, serves us (my wife and I) well but it does seem to be about time for a few parts to be wearing out. The car is approaching 200,000 miles and runs like the day we bought it, but some of the other work-horse parts are starting to be phased out at this point.  This year it just so happens that there is a bit of a queue forming. If the trend continues we should have 1/3 of a new car by 2016. 

Back in the office of my mechanic I stared at the red number at the bottom of the invoice and punched in my debit pin a moment later, my lips a grim line. I still need the bearings in one of the wheels looked at, though whoever did the paperwork last time forgot to write down which one. I've also got a half dozen other big expenses due before the snow hits the ground a few months from now. I try not to think to hard about it, because somehow we always find a way to make things work and I haven't had to sell any organs yet, mine or otherwise. So there's that. 

The bill was stamped paid and I folded it neatly in three parts. I'll be tossing it in the glove box in a moment, as part of a service record history in case we ever sell the car (even though we probably never will). Meanwhile I fantasized about being able to work on the Altima myself, and occasionally taking a break by laying on the pile of money I was saving by doing my own work. 

I certainly feel I have the aptitude to do my own work. I have the trouble-shooting skills from working on computers for years, and I'm apparently competent enough that I managed to get a certification in computer repair, not that I've put it to use yet. So given enough time I'm sure I could learn my way around an engine. I can see myself leaning over an engine, covered in grease and dripping sweat into the organized jumble of parts beneath the hood. I've got my hand snaked down into the engine as I try and prize loose a corroded bolt, my muscles straining. Essentially, the complete opposite of computer repair; since your goal is to vehemently avoid dripping sweat on anything, any sign of grease is a cause for concern if not outright panic, and using much more than a golf putt's worth of pressure is a sign that you're about break something (unless you're installing a heatsink in which case the corroded bolt scenario still applies). 

However, I digress. That won't be happening any time soon, and I highly doubt at all. Learning to work on cars now would mean acquiring tools, dozens of hours of learning (in my experience about half that time is spent staring at something half taken apart with a mixture of despair and grim determination), and I'd still end up paying a good chunk of change for the actual parts. Better that I just stick to what I know, computers, and let the mechanics do their thing. Maybe someday I'll pick up enough mechanic's skills and tools to keep the basics of my car in order. For now though I'll have the satisfaction of keeping my computer running and the minor admiration that comes from the non-tech-savvy, who seem to regard anything relating to computers in the same way most people regard calculus problems, or snakes, or a calculus assignment tied to a snake. 

I latched the glovebox shut and started up the car. It was still 76 degrees out, a perfect day by most people's standards. I cranked my music and rolled down the windows as I pulled out of the lot. The car felt good. It's probably just in my head but the car always feels a little better when I leave. The new tires I had just bought felt like they stuck to the road better. The difference is usually subtle and I sometimes wonder if it's worth shelling out hundreds of dollars for. I need this thing to keep running though, the Altima isn't even paid off yet, though it's nearing that point. Still, the drive home is nice. I guess it's worth it.

At least that's what I'd like to say. There's got to be some point of equilibrium in which the concern over the money spent is canceled out by the peace of mind brought about by vehicle reliability. Right now the expense versus reliability scale is still skewed enough that it caused me to forget what page I was on. Clearly an unacceptable level.