Risen from the grave

Short version is I really, really, really didn’t want to abandon this blog – I feel a certain attachment – then someone suggested that I really needed to continue it for reasons that are either quite astute or absurdly aggrandizing, but worked for me.

So, there you have it. One indignant, diva-worthy exit. One return. But, man, seriously, it’s tough when the escape from a job gets tainted, however slightly, by the most irritating parts of that job. It’d be like a waiter getting asked to bus a couple tables while he’s out playing pool or something.

Pardon the dull analogy, I’ve just really been craving a game of pool lately.

I figure what I’ll do though (with the blog, that is. I think I know how to handle the pool issue) is just leave the snotty comments up. See I’d been deleting them as a sort of, “I choose for these things not to exist in the Byroniverse” kind of way. Instead? I’ll let the “Yur a fag” type shit speak for itself.

That all being said, thank you to people who wrote in kind comments about not quitting. I hope you come back! Isn’t that just sweet, sweet irony? I’ve probably vacated the few people who read this and like it, but the snarkers will stick around faithfully. We’ll see.

As long as I’m thinking about students – one of my students gave me a story and asked me to read it and make comments. Now, that sort of thing happens all the time. Usually, however, I say no for the following reasons:

1 – Way too busy. Lame, but true.
2 – 99% of all creative writing is awful (especially mine), and the odds when dealing with new writers goes up to about…oh…whatever the statistical likelihood is of the moon getting full again.
3 – When critiquing writing, I don’t respond as a teacher (“Some good ideas here! Work on…”), but as a writer (“Cut this part. And this. Oh God, definitely cut this. Actually, do you have a lighter?”). I can’t help it. Part of the sick, masochistic, weird fun of writing is how really bad most of it is. If you can’t acknowledge that (especially when it’s your own), you lose perspective. But it’s unfair to be, you know, honest with writers just starting out.
4 – It’s a huge commitment that could be focused on one’s own work. Frankly, asking someone to edit your work for free is considered a faux pas among most writers I know. Of course, these are students, and new writers, so they naturally don’t know that, but editing takes, Christ, days if it’s a substantial work.

But I didn’t say no. Hm. Weird. Wasn’t bothered by the request, nothing. It’s a vampire story. Of course. I’ve written a few of those myself. One was pretty cool. Called “The Dying of the Light.” I wonder where that is? Maybe I’ll dig it up (ho ho) and post it on the little story page. I think I haven’t updated that in about a year.

I say ‘of course’ because the vampire fantasy is like standard issue to most adolescents. I had my whole vampire lifestyle pretty well planned out. How I’d feed. Who I’d change to be my concubines. The revenge fantasy on that slope-browed fuck who picked on me all the time was especially delightful. Good stuff. Good stuff.

Anyway, apparently I’m being reborn, vampire-like (or, if you prefer, pastel-wearing-Christian-who-doesn’t-seem-to-blink-often-enough-like). Writing this, critiquing a student’s work and, if this writing is any indication, incapable of maintaining a linear train of thought.

I must feed.