i missed you. then why do i feel like not writing any more for a long long time. i think the world is doing one of those lets see if we can spin completely upside down right now. the pope witnessed breakdancing, clint got on stage and said i know i dont look like sean penn… but i am, and the hot babe in average joe made out with the good looking guy who didnt even know what a romance novel is.
i put up the first few pages of lick today and parts of it make me very very happy and parts scare the shit out of me. my natural reaction is to just say fuckit and not do it but i did that with blook 2 and some people wanted my ass. there was this study a while back about perfectionists and winners and most winners it turned out were not perfectionists and the study was done on quarterbacks in the nfl and many of them won because they werent afraid to fuck up, they just went for it, warts and all, they didnt allow the little (or big) things stop them from going forward.
and when you look at guys like our current president (not pictured, sadly) who if he was any other decent person would look at the state the planet was in when he stole the election and look at the state of the planet today, and the decent person would probably apologize and step down gracefully. a perfectionist woulda probably shot hisself right in the head. but winners, and i hate to say it, but dumbshit sure does find a way to win, winners hang in there and keep slugging away even if the only person who benefits from their bs is them.
so lick will launch at halftime of the superbowl for your asses, as planned. even if it isnt exactly what i want it to be.
how could it be more like i want it to be? you could write for it, for starters. and by you, i mean you.
you know who you are.
work wasnt so bad but i wasnt feeling it all day. im not sick, i can feel the disturbance in the force, maybe tomorrow we’ll figure out what it is, was, whatever, but my truest called tonight and she told me to go for it, clipper girls cousin called tonight and told me to go for it, and raspil iverson the designer of the lick blog wrote something so normal and so perfect for lick and i put it on the page and it didnt look perfect but it will do for today but it was the writing.
sometimes its nice just to read normal words from a normal person about normal things
and thats better than people trying to be all flowery and writer-y or any of that.
she told the story and got out of the way and it was great.
and if theres one thing i want to do from lick is help people understand that theres lots of ways to write well and the best way is their way as cheesy as that sounds its the truth and another thing i want people to learn is that even though we call it a world wide web, we are completely separated in most cases. and now is the time to have a greater cohesiveness if we want.
its like a playground with a thousand basketballs and a thousand hoops and everyone is shooting freethrows,
my invitation to you is to play together
just a few times a month.
women of the web, if you’d like to write something for lick, now is the time. wednesday at 10pm pacific time is the deadline for the first edition of this new thing. if i didnt contact you personally please dont be put off, i contacted very few people personally. i wanted Lick to be something mostly wordofmouth like buzznet and friendster and that super visual x that was going around last weekend in hollywood.
you can fictionalize things, you can factualize things, you can write about things that youd never think youd ever write down let alone email to someone, and you can also write about normal things that interest you.
whatever you do, write. write like its ok to write. write like todays the day and if you want write like whatever it is that you write will touch someone, even an undercover vigilante helicopter pilot who secretly just wants to direct.
i love you faceless rockstars of the worldwideweb. im glad to be back and if anything inside my head whispers to me that i should stop i will just think about my hero ray rayner who was there for me every morning growing up.