So here’s the fear. That I don’t actually have anything else to say. That I’ve run out of feelings and imagination. Or that unless I save it up I’ll use it all up and then have nothing later.
Which of course is total crap. There’s always something eventually, some inspiration to follow through on. I just hate the dry times, they make me worry. And I have way too many other worries right now to add anything else to the pile. Especially where work is concerned.
The thing is, I just always want things to work out before the credits roll. Like all those eighties movies and television shows I grew up with. And it makes me a little jealous of millennials. Since their birth, things have been more real in the visual entertainment sphere.
Now don’t get me wrong. It isn’t like I think everything we see on reality TV is real. Or that the gritty “truth” style movies aren’t an imaginative exaggeration of a real-life type of situation. I’m not an idiot.
But, when compared to what my generation grew up watching, I get a little pang of envy for how much more raw and honest dialogue has become. Situations. Lack of force-fed sugary goodness. That, sometimes, there isn’t an answer after 30 minutes, or 2 hours, a whole season, or even a trilogy of movies.
See, my generation had shows like Family Ties. Where democrats and republicans may not always agree but can live in harmony under the same roof. Or the classic Growing Pains where it only takes a laugh and a smile to deal with how much of a screw up your son is.
And let’s not forget movies like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off where we never have to see the repercussions of what happens when your so-called best friend forces you to skip school, take your dad’s pristine collector car out and, after getting home safe and un-caught, you decide your best course of action is to trash the car. But it’ll all be okay because the script says so.
Don’t forget, after all, Ferris didn’t get caught. He was pretty much the only one who didn’t.
My generation of pop culture fiends were shown that the kids were always smarter than the bumbling idiot grownups.
Well now I’m the age of all those bumbling idiot grownups and have come to realize that in this age of technology and world connectedness, the kids are smarter than me now. And do you know how fucking irritating that is?
The younger generation has found a way to take what’s available, AKA: everything, and use it to become these clued-in, whip-smart people. The people my generation wanted to be when we were their age.
But the reality of my generation’s half-hour comedy is that nothing in life can be solved in 30 minutes. The dork sophomore never ends up with the hottest, coolest, richest senior in school.
Which really doesn’t matter anymore because the Ducky’s of the world know so much better how to take care of their ladies.
But I digress.
Because that’s a post for another day.
For now I’m going to spend my time working on my own mash-up. My own ability to read, research and extrapolate the info available to me to craft some cooler, whip-smart characters.
And if I get bored, writer’s block, or a total lack of inspiration, maybe I’ll write my own eighties-esque story. The one where the sophomore obsesses over the senior and they don’t end up together.
But it all still ends up okay.
• • • • • • • • • • • EDITOR's NOTE: As of November 2015, shit is gonna get real. I'll no longer focus on my pitifully visited blog for new writers, every freaking blogger has a blog for new writers and I'm tired of trying to muscle my way into a club where the snacks already ran out. Because, what's the point? Instead, I'll be back here and focused on bringing you the most random of the inner workings of my head as well as sharing short fiction pieces in my newsletter. Sign up, read them, bookmark this site...or whatever other call to action I'm supposed to use in this situation.