When I was younger I wrote short stories. I tried writing poems, but I couldn’t get past the feeling that I was just peddling bullshit trying to be “deep”. We all know what became of that experience. So I wrote short stories. Heck, from age 16 until well after college I even worked on a novel that still needs a decent ending. One of these days I’ll finish it, but I keep telling myself “I can be an author when I’m older and don’t look so good under hot stage lights“.

My stories typically did not take place in this reality. There were talking animals, spaceships, and unexplained phenomena (I never really wrote about “magic”). Sometimes I envy people who can write about this world. Even House of Leaves (affiliate link) is at its heart a story about human emotions and the fragility of our minds. The fact that a demonic house tries to eat people is more or less peripheral. In any case, I never really spent my mental vacations in parts of this world that actually exist. The real world always seemed so limited to me, as though it were a place where only lazy writers stuck around.

Then I tried writing for the real world. It’s not easy. In fact, when you have to stick to the confines of this reality you’re faced with a real challenge: Entertainment must be bound by plausibility. I’ve tried for a while now to write about “real stuff” like politics, economics, and relationships. I miss my robots.

I realized recently that in my quest to find subject matter that people can relate to I’d fallen into the same pattern that made me leave Contemporary Christian Music; I was confining myself. God does not confine me any more than this world confines me, but in narrowing my focus I create walls that only move inward over time. I’ve built my own Studio of Leaves and it’s getting tight in here.

I’m sick of reality. I need a vacation, a permanent one. I miss being weird. The last thing I need right now is to get real. I have real. I’m surrounded by real. Real tells me to improve my search engine rankings and mow the lawn. Real isn’t a destination, it’s the jumping off point. Real isn’t lazy, it’s just not for me. I want my talking animals and my spaceships again.

If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find them.

I’m no Ariel Hyatt, but I’ve been told I have some good ideas for using online tools as an indie musician. I mean, heck, I do this for a living. If something I do doesn’t work, I drop it like a bad habit and move on to the next idea. Is this list comprehensive? Hell no. In fact, I’ll probably have better ideas tomorrow. Right now, though, this is the best list I could divine. Here are some patterns I’ve seen over the years:
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For when you absolutely, positively must be killed in a soft-spoken acoustic way.

And following on the heels of I Just Want to Fall in Love, here’s another sneak preview of the upcoming Live at FWA 2010 DVD release. Now with more blunt force trauma!