Journal 2

Vampires on tofu
I expect y'all have already seen me blabbing about this elsewhere, but in case you missed it, here's my write-up on Twilight: http://tinyurl.com/yk9ak88

Innocent when you dream
I'm in a very good mood right now. It's nice. Only real reason I can think of as to why is that I finished an article last night that's been hanging over my head for a month now. I don't think it turned out that great--it's passable, but not something I'm especially proud of. (It's probably not a good sign that a good half of the articles I'm writing these days, I get to the end thinking, "Ah fuck it, if it's bad they can edit." More than half, really.) But still, it's done. I still have six or seven other things to do by the end of the week, plus I've got the new Wheel of Time book to read by Sunday for review... but for now, sweet, sweet relief.

I said I'd talk about the waiting-for-a-publisher game, right? Well, here's where things stand now:

-Still waiting to hear back from S, the place that might be interested in publishing The Living as a young adult novel. So far, this experience has been a lot of tedium and vague depression, mixed with the occasional interjection of intense excitement. The S thing (I'm not sure it's kosher to name the publisher) is a microcosm of that. First they're interested in reading the book, then it takes them a couple months to finally get around to it. Then the editor who read it, P, "likes it," and brings it to committee. In two weeks. A month and later, I hear that while P is really enthusiastic about the book (which was great to hear), S doesn't have any place in their adult imprints. But they're starting a Young Adult imprint, would I want to be considered for that?

So, I get excited again--I had issues with YA, but I'm mostly over them at this point, because really, I just want this fucking thing published. Only, now that I've said yes, it takes two weeks for the new guy to get the book, and that was two weeks ago (ish) and he's still reading. It's been long enough now that I've kind of forgotten being excited. The wait doesn't mean anything either way, but it's weird to think, "Huh, there's at least one editor at a publishing house reading my novel who might want to buy it," and have that not really do much to me one way or the other.

-The agent isn't resting on her laurels, though. She's currently pecking away at TD (who she told me in this week's update may be "amenable," whatever that means) and T. T's actually trying to break into the zombie market, with a Pride & Prejudice & Zombies knock-off featuring Tom Sawyer. Seriously. So, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess my book is better than that one. Fingers crossed.

-There are a bunch of other places she's tried, and half a dozen who actually got the manuscript, but I think I've only been officially rejected twice? And in both cases, it was from people who hadn't read the whole book. (One guy looked at the sample and the synopsis and said there wasn't anything special about it. So, y'know, to hell with him.) I'm assuming that with the places that have the book but my agent hasn't mentioned, those are basically no go, but who knows. I figured this process would be excruciating, and it sort of is, but I didn't realize it would be this backgrounded. I have no idea if any of this will resolve soon. We could get an offer from S this week, or it could be a month of nothing before they tell us they're passing. I'm just glad I've got the AV Club job, because otherwise, I think I would've gone insane by now.

Awww poor me
Hey, I got to pick the book for the latest entry in the AV Club book club!

Hey, everybody fucking hates it! (It's Ghost Story, by Peter Straub, and re-reading it again, it does have a lot of flaws, but god how I dislike being put in a position where I feel like my self-worth is tied into some dead fucking novel.)

I have a great (second) job, but sometimes it really fucking sucks.

The little man must bounce
There's a gaming site that's running a contest for the "best videogame walkthrough," and I wrote up a walk through for a non-existent game. I have no idea if the post ever went through, but I wanted to make sure somebody saw it, because I thought it was funny. (And if the post never goes up at the site, I might submit this to McSweeneys, just to see.)

#Walkthrough

Rom Title: Fun With Bouncing
Real Title: Uncertain. Only twelve copies of the game existed long enough for a full play-through in the original format, and none of those cartridges, designed to run on a standard Atari 2600 system, had any recognizable language printed on them. Instead, the gouges and scratches suggested obscenities so primal they could only be implied. Chris Dahlen, popular gaming critic, has argued that even the assumption that the cartridges were actually intended for use on the Atari is a faulty one, suggesting instead dumb luck and sheer geek stubbornness is the only reason anyone would've thought to stick one in the machine and press the On switch.

Controls:
Atari 2600:
Moving the joystick moves the little man.
Pressing the button makes him bounce.
PC:
U: moves the little man up
D: moves the little man down
L: moves the little man left
R: moves the little man right
NE: moves the little man northeast
NW: moves the little man northwest
(note: "north" and all other compass directions are based on the position of the gamer, _not_ the position of the little man relative to the screen.)
H: the little man removes his hat
Y: the little man questions his existence
>: your shift key sticks
C: the little man drowns
{: you dog will whine for the next three hours. If you do not press the } key before the three hours are up, your dog will die. (If you do not own a dog, a cat will suffice. If you do not own a cat, DO NOT PLAY THIS GAME.)
B: the little man bounces

Gameplay:
(The rom version of this game, which is freely and easily downloadable across the web, like a piece of viral marketing so successful it can't possibly be intended to sell anything, mimics the original version precisely. It is not to be trusted. It is not safe.)
Once the game has been activated, the screen will be blank for ten seconds. A note will sounds, generally the D# an octave below middle C. A succession of colors flash across the screen--RED, RED, WHITE, YELLOW, TURQUOISE. The screen will take on a ghastly hue of rotten, festering peach. Your mother will call; talk with her politely for ten minutes, even though she's been dead for five years now.

When you get back to the computer or television, the little man will be waiting for you. He stands in the middle of your field of vision, an inch and a half high. He waits for you to move him, as he cannot move on his own. Move him left, then right, then left. He will be tired and sit down. Maybe you should eat something now. It's already midnight, did you even realize? You keep such odd hours lately. The phone rings again, but this time, do not answer it. There's no one calling that you want to talk to.

Eventually, the little man will appear sad. The graphics are primitive, pale blocks on rectangles, a jaggged circle head, an inverted brown T for a hat. But he will be sad, and you will know he is sad. That is the purpose of the game. You have to make him not so sad anymore.

Press the button (or B). The little man will bounce. He is then happy. Press the button again, and he will bounce again. And he will still be happy. While he is happy, he moves faster, and it is possible to change his environment. You can make the little man construct a house (there is no specific movement/button combination to make this happen. Somehow, it just does). Sometimes, a woman or man joins him on screen, and then smaller figures. Sometimes, the woman or man leaves, and takes the smaller figures. There are other changes. Some players have reported grand symphonies issuing forth from tinny, over-stressed computer speakers. Others will show you murky screen-shots of strange shapes and landscapes, and they will swear to you that it is art.

But through this all, the little man must bounce. Hours and hours of this. The longest recorded play session started in 1986 is still going on--there is debate as to whether or not the session is continuous, as two players have died mid-game, but the system is still running, and someone is always watching. But this is just you, in your living room, the first light of dawn coming in the window, scratching your eyes, your nose stuffed thick with the reek of drying sweat. You need to leave. It's a stupid game, there's no way to win, there is no score, and there's no clear sense of lasting accomplishment. It will not end. You reach for the off switch.

But the little man must bounce. You can't bear the thought of it--if you were to leave him, where would he go? Would he be left to wander the empty darkness behind your television screen, sobbing pixelated tears? God, it must be so lonely in there. His wife is gone, his kids have left him.

Press the button. (Or B.) The little man is then happy. And, for a moment, so are you.

If I were the man you wanted, I would not be the man that I am.
New Lyle Lovett album is pretty good. Gonna take a couple listens before I decide how much I like it, though. I've listened to a couple Dwight Yoakam albums this morning, too, and I'm digging them both. I don't think I'll ever go full country, but Yoakam does a great job putting smart lyrics with catchy tunes, and really, that goes a long way for me.

When I was in high school, me and my best friend talked about girls. Sometimes, it seems like that's all we talked about, although I'm sure that's not completely true. All that talk never really did much beyond pass the time (plus make sure we'd stay friends a long time), because as soon as I actually started seeing someone, I didn't remember anything we'd talked about. That's usually how it works, I think, with most serious discussion. You're not really learning anything so much as finding a way to pretend you have control over a situation that you don't understand. Relationships back then terrified, and the more we endlessly debated tactics, love, odds, the more I could ignore the dark, roiling center of things; the less I had to actually do anything, while still pretending I was engaged with the world.

This continued into college--I think it may actually have gotten worse in college--and then I gained the weight, and it was very easy to be attracted to people who weren't interested. I don't think that was purposeful thing on my part, but it worked out rather nicely, anyway. And now I'm 30, and I still like talking about it more than actually doing anything. But I dunno, it's still pretty scary. And considering that my life is generally one big ball of stress these days--too many articles to write, two jobs, and a novel that is in constant danger of maybe getting published--it's think about this, or freak out about other stuff.

What's strange, this time around, is that I'm more worried about losing things that I am obsessing over the possibility of gaining something. When I have a crush on someone, I generally decide the rules don't apply to me, that I don't have to worry about consequences, that I'm destined to be with this person and every other consideration is irrelevant. This is what got me into such trouble in the past couple years. People would say, "But that isn't really appropriate, you realize that, right?" And I'd go, "Sure!" and keep on planning, well, whatever in my head. I realized intellectually I should be careful, but emotionally, the knowledge had no meaning.

Only now, while I realize it would be good for me to just follow through and whatever happens, happens, I keep worrying about how I don't want to lose feeling comfortable at that store, and how nice it is to just have a short chat with MN, and is that worth risking? This could be the cost for getting something better down the line, take a normal rejection now, and admit that you're participating in the whole social scene. But just because I should pay a cost doesn't mean I really want to, and for once, that knowledge is more than just something I tell people so I don't sound so crazy. For maybe the first time in my life that I can remember, my desire to date someone isn't taking precedence over every other aspect of my life. That's pretty cool. Sure, it makes this incredibly terrifying, and I might end up chickening out after all, but I like that I can be attracted to someone, and not lose all perspective. Makes me hopeful, in a scary way. Like maybe all that talking did help, somehow.

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