Posts Tagged ‘writing

02
Apr
13

Farewell To Summer

By SlickTiger 2 Comments
Categories: Being Slick
Tags: , , , , , ,

Rainy_Day_by_kioneeI had the rainy day blues yesterday and I loved every minute of it. From the moment I got up around 9am to the moment I sat down to write this just before sunset, it felt like I was living in a cloud.

I don’t think the day could have been any more perfect. Normally when a day like yesterday rolls around, you have to go to work and it’s all dark and shitty and you WISH you were chillin’ at home.

Well, yesterday we all got our wish. This thick cotton-wool mist rolled into the city bowl and thousands of Capetonians did what we do best in winter, stayed the fuck home and hibernated.

The seasons are definitely turning. There’s a winter chill in the wind as summer fades and the sun rises later and sets earlier.

Time is tearing like a racehorse around a track, tearing up the turf in a frantic sprint to an indefinable finish line that could come at any time.

For me, the end of summer carries an added weight because the next time it rolls around, beaming down through perfect blue skies, I’ll be a dad.

 

 

I’d like to say that things have magically turned around over the past three months and, as J-Rab and I approach the middle of her pregnancy, we’ve somehow managed to change our prospects and are taking home a salary the three of us can live comfortably off, but sadly that’s not true.

The good news is that I’ve stuck to my guns when it comes to banging out the novel that’s going to save us. I’ve nearly got the first two chapters out, it’s hard going but nothing in this life worth having is easy so I’m just going to keep on keepin’ on, getting a little more out every day, slowly slowly catch a monkey.

The thing about being a writer is that the stories in you claw relentlessly toward the light, squirming and fighting to get out of your head and into other people’s.

So in a way, this novel will be written whether I like it or not, all I have to do is sit down and physically write it, a task which any writer will tell you is easier said than done.

 

 

In the end of the day, it’s a bit like klapping gym though. You can make a million excuses why not to do it and a million excuses why it’s not working, but unless you do a little as often as possible, you’ll look like kak and NEVER get the belters!

You can be sure of one thing though, when it’s finally written, if it gets published, ALL of you motherfuckers are getting a signed copy because without you and this site, I don’t think I would have developed my voice as a writer to the extent that I have.

So I’m ploughing on, a boat against the current, bidding the final days of summer farewell and preparing for the approaching winter, the 30th one I’ve faced.

Wish me luck Winking smile

-ST

06
Jul
10

Truth is

By SlickTiger 7 Comments
Categories: Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , ,

If you had to ask most people what really makes them happy, they wouldn’t be able to give you a straight answer. “Different things, being with family, hanging out with friends, going to new places, trying new things, meeting new people…” that’s probably what they’d say.

Me, I’m wired differently from that. Sure, I like those things too and of course the feeling of being madly and passionately in love, the company of good friends when life is shit and you just want to be around someone you don’t have to put on some kind of act for, those things mean a lot to me.

But if you asked me what makes me happy, what feeds my soul and makes me fucking come alive I’d tell you straight, it’s writing.

Words are everything, whether they’re spoken, sung, whispered or written. They’re so deeply entrenched in everything we do that we hardly stop to think just how fucking powerful they are. Take language away from us, the ability to communicate our thoughts and feelings and we’re back scratching in the dirt, hunting animals with sticks, dumb as mud.

What I feel on most days, if I had to be totally honest with myself, is a deep dissatisfaction with what I’ve landed up doing for a living. I shuffle into an office looking like my mom dressed me and sit down in a cubicle farm so quiet, all you can hear is the sound of people typing.

Here I spend hour after hour trying my hardest to please every fucking person I come into contact with while secretly all I’m hoping for is someone to get up on a boardroom table one day, in the middle of some big important meeting and at the top of his or her lungs scream, “THIS IS ALL BULLSHIT!”

Truth is I dug myself into this hole. Me. I did it. And now, instead of making a living doing the one thing I truly love and am good at, I’m fading away, turning milky-white under the fluorescent light, the best fucking years of my life wasted, an hour at a time, working my ass off for other people.

So what do I do? I blog. And somehow it makes me feel better because every post feels like I’m clawing my way, an inch at a time, out of this hole and towards something better.

I haven’t been posting lately. I’ve let life kick me squarely in the guts and rolled over like a fucking pansy and felt sorry for myself.

Well, fuck that. When life gives you lemons, you take those lemons and you fucking throw them back as hard and as fast as you can and you tell life ‘FUCK YOU’.

The Tiger’s back and he’s fucking angry and ready to fuck some shit up.

And yes, THEM’S fightin’ words 😉

 

 

-ST

12
May
10

Kill The Pig! bash him in!

By SlickTiger 6 Comments
Categories: Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , ,

In my day dreams sometimes I crash-land on a desert island with the people I work with and somehow we all survive it.

 

 

I watch everything unfold in my head, the initial shock of the crash slowly being replaced by child-like wonder as we take in everything around us and start exploring the island and building shelters and forming friendships based not on some manufactured hierarchy, but rather who can actually protect and lead everyone.

Sooner or later though people would start to argue and get bitchy about who gets to boss who around because we’d be getting hungrier and wilder with each passing day.

I think at that point I’d probably strike out, fashion some kind of weapons and go hunt for weeks on end, picking my way through the jungle, learning how to move without sound, learning how to track animals, learning their patterns.

I’d get dirty and cut and scratched and bitten. My hair and beard and nails would all grow and I’d shed weight until my ribs stuck out like xylophone keys and I could put my hands around my waist and nearly touch my fingers together.

 

 

At night I’d burrow into the forest floor and cover myself with earth and leaves and lie there, humming half-remembered songs and having long and intense conversations with no one in a language that only vaguely resembled English.

Nothing would matter anymore except food and water. Those two things would consume my every waking thought and the status reports and brainstorming sessions and seminars and client expectations that used to guide and govern me would fall away completely and be replaced by the stark and terrifying reality that I was finally in control of my life.

Ironically I’d probably wish for my old life back. That’s the funny thing about humans, we are totally incapable of handling the freedom we are given. We design all kinds of social structures and institutions to get rid of that freedom at all costs and then complain that our lives feel controlled and dogmatic.

I’m not sure how the day dream ends. Maybe I eventually do kill something and I take it back to share it with everyone back at the shelters and they welcome me back like a returning hero.

Maybe it goes the other way and I stay in the jungle for a good, long while, trying my damndest to forget everything about my life and letting my mind unravel completely until I become nothing more than a drooling animal, ruled completely by instinct and base desire.

I guess it all depends on whether or not I can get over whatever it is that’s dragging me into the jungle and actually start writing worth a damn again.

Hahahaahahaha! Fuck.

Easier said than done…

-ST

08
Dec
09

Loving the haters

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Uncategorized
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When I started down this road, about 3 months back, I can honestly say I was a different tiger entirely from the slavering beast that now sits facing my laptop screen.

 

 

Back then I was full of wonder, hope and was known on occasion to fart rainbows. Being a blogger has changed all that and I’m all the better for it.

One of the biggest problems writers face is that they are far too over-critical of their own work, often to their own detriment. In a way this is a good thing because otherwise just about anyone who could wield a sentence would be out there, guns blazin’, firing off a whole load of codswallop (love that word, say it with me, codswallop) and defending it with the time-honoured cop out, ‘Well like this is just my opinion you suck.’

Oh wait… I think I just described the internet…

But anyway, my point here is writers are precious. They’re a quiet and secluded bunch who hang out in dark corners at parties scribbling mostly unintelligible purple prose on cocktail napkins only to leave two hours later, blind drunk and alone.

 

 

And it is for this reason that I would encourage any wannabe writer to start blogging. Blogging is the single best way to a) Find your voice as a writer and b) Interact directly with your audience.

Think about what a difference this simple function of blogging would have made in the lives of millions of struggling writers throughout history. It’s an incredible moment when you fly right out there, post the most crazy-assed shit you can possibly muster, and instead of being greeted by general disapproval and criticism, receive positive comments from complete strangers who understand 100% where you’re coming from.

 

 

Of course, there is the other side of the coin where you post what you firmly believe is an excellent post, worth of some kind of literary award, and some fucking mouth-breather who doesn’t even understand the basic rules of sentence construction and punctuation jumps in there and in his best rhetoric responds with, ‘YOUR A TURD!!!! LMFAO, PWNED!’

This too is a good thing, because if nothing else, it should serve as a reminder that you are far better than these people in every conceivable way. Don’t climb in there and throw shit back at them, you’ll only get your hands dirty.

Three months ago a negative or overly critical comment felt like a death-blow to me. The voice that speaks to me inside my head (that sounds like Humphrey Bogart) would read the comment over and over again to the point of obsession. Then I would go out, get good and drunk and punch the first person who looked at me funny.

 

 

It was a crash course in growing the fuck up and I’m glad I went through it. Now when I write something that sparks off a few dozen comments about what a jerk I am, I really enjoy it.

It means that I’ve shaken people up and that’s never a bad thing. You gotta love the haters because they shout louder than anyone else out there on the interwebs and get you famous twice as fast.

It’s a sad fact of life but notoriety sells because, like they used to teach us back in Journ 101, if it bleeds, it leads.

And to quote one of my favourite movies of all time:

“This is blood for blood and by the gallon. These are the old days, the bad days, the all-or-nothing days. They’re back! There’s no choice left. And I’m ready for war.” – Marv, Sin City.

Words to live by 😉

-ST