A Splintered Mind

Throwaway ToDo Lists That Organize Your Day

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 17:16:46 PST

On those days that you wake up with a jetpack on and 20 minutes behind schedule, you don't have time to deal with elaborate todo list systems. Franklin Covey? Get Things Done? Obviously, those systems have their strengths, but they all require work & upkeep, something that can be thwarted by the flighty ADHD mind.

Most Organizing Systems Require Maintenance

The Franklin Covey system with its A, B, & Cs helps prioritize your projects, but requires daily review and reorganizing. The Get Things Done system also hopes to simplify your life by moving unimportant projects out of your mindspace, and only requires a weekly review. But the ADHD mind is often bored by meticulous systems, or more likely, meticulous systems are often destroyed by ADHD minds. Those minds have a fondness for distractions. All one needs is a day or two forgotten and these life lists become terribly outdated.

So it's a bad day at the office and an evening lost on Netflix then? Not quite.

Five Ways to Quickly Organize Your Day

I like the complicated systems to keep my life on track. However, I don't have time to get my life back into compliance with the system every day, so I need another system to fall back on. Since switching systems help keeps things new for me, thus ensuring greater success, here's what I do: I use a bunch of different Throwaway ToDo lists.

Piece of Paper
There is this thing called paper. You may have heard of it. You actually can scratch notes on it and stuff with hard sticks of graphite or ink suspended in tubes. I find them terribly convenient. Although they don't sync with the Cloud, or backup to my Mac, they do fit nicely in my pants' pocket.
White Board
Maybe you don't have a fancy one on your wall like I do, but did you know that you can pick a white board up at Walmart for as cheap as a buck? It might have Disney Fairies all over it, but hey! it's a only a buck. Jot down your list and hang it on your wall or toss it on your table—any place you'll see it. Unlike paper, it's reusable, which is something I like about them. They also don't get lost in the wash.
Note Taking App
Since I'm a happy geek, I have many note taking apps to choose from. Just open a new note and type away. Your list doesn't have to have a label anymore complicated than "Today" or "DO NOW!!!" or even "Untitled". Just write your MUST DOs down quickly and get busy working on them. Upsides? They sync to the cloud and can be backed up to your computer.
Simple ToDo List App
Not every ToDo list app out there provides multi-colored labels, stars, prioritized tasks, and can interface with the Borg. Some are pretty simple, indeed. Apple came out with a very simple one called "Reminder" last Fall that has so few features you'd think Steve Jobs banged it out one morning before taking over the world. Another is TaskPaper, which is a nice cross between a ToDo list app and a note taking app. You can create multiple lists and you just jot them down like you would on paper. No fancy settings. No bother to label, categorize, or prioritize. Cross things off with a swipe. I like it a lot. Upsides? You don't have to bother drawing all those fiddly boxes next to each item.
Use Whatever Is Handy
Lastly, sometimes a system just gets in the way. If you need to get busy working, but don't want to forget the important things, grab whatever you have on hand and write a list in it. Scrap paper, note taking app, voice memo, or even a video of yourself running out the door shouting a list of what you have to do. In a pinch, anything is better than relying on memory.

The important thing to remember about these solutions is that they are throwaway solutions. They aren't meant to last the week. They aren't meant to reorganize your life, though if you have an epiphany on the bus, by all means jot it down. You can always take the throwaway list and transfer it later to the fancier system that you prefer. You just need the list to help you get through the day without forgetting anything.

Moleskine for the iPhone is Overly Complicated

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 19:28:46 PST

Since I like jotting down notes on the go as opposed to just thinking of fantastic ideas that I later forget, I love checking out new note taking apps on the iPhone and iPad. I came across the Moleskine app a few months ago, but it languished in my "Prune" folder. I stick apps in there that I don't immediately connect with, but think that they might deserve a second, more in depth glance. Today I gave the Moleskine app a thorough look over.

It's very slick, even powerful. The GUI is clean and you can tell that the developers took time to release a polished app. There are lots of features. So many features. Maybe even too many features. I can label my thoughts, color them, give them nifty icons, geo tag them, and fiddle with the font size and color. I can even import photos, crop them, then resize them for insertion on the page. The words will actually wrap around the photo, which is a powerful word processor feature not found in most note taking apps. It's all very slick.

However, the app lacks the simple elegance of a Moleskine notebook. After all, what is a Moleskine notebook but a fancy collection of blank pages with a nice, hard cover, a cloth bookmark, and an inside pocket? This app comes across as too left brained and too corporate. It even prominently features a link to Moleskine's product catalog. That can be ignored, but overall, the Moleskine elements of the app are just visual embellishments. There's the slick opening graphic of a Moleskine cover, then you are presented with a list of notes. Creating a new note requires more tapping. Name it. Categorize it. Now what? Tap tap. Oh, we're finally in!

There are simply too many options in the way of writing. When I want to write in my real world Moleskine journal I grab it, flip it open to the last page, and start writing. There is no fiddling. This app makes me feel like an engineer laying out plans for a building before letting me in to write. It doesn't even open each note to the last page. You have to flip through to find it. No easy cloth bookmarks to mark your way. The text is not even searchable outside the app, so for me this is a deal breaker.

The notes are indeed pretty, but then you encounter the next limitation. How do you share them with people? Nevermind that the share feature is hidden away on a submenu, the sharing doesn't include the formatting. Sharing the note via email or even Facebook simply sends the text out into the world. If you had taken time to crop, resize, and layout a photo, wouldn't you want to share that effort as well? There is an entire culture of people on Flickr that do exactly this. They share their Moleskine pages down to the scribbles and side notes.

I feel that the iPad apps Bamboo and Penultimate do a better job of capturing the Moleskine spirit than the Moleskine app. Each notebook is visually represented, not given as a list, and they open to the last page you worked on. They even let you export the notebook as a PDF or graphic, preserving the look and design of your creation. Unlike the Moleskine app, you cannot type text, but the point is they are more Moleskine-like than the Moleskine.

The Moleskine app ends up being a lone, pretty island in a sea of note taking apps that I won't visit much. For what it does, you may enjoy it. You may like all that fiddly detail. It's certainly one of the slickest note taking apps I have used on the iPhone. A very powerful note taking app, indeed, but it's no Moleskine.

Like Rockets Pulling My Brain Apart

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 19:16:31 PST

I had a nice chat with a friend from Israel the other day. His life was on the up. He had a (well deserved) promotion at work. He also had a new addition to his family that pleased him and his wife to no end. He was busy and successful, and yet he was frustrated. He didn't have time to write anymore, and when he did have time, he couldn't stick to one idea.

I believe a lot of people have this very same problem. Their heads are filled with ideas, and when it comes time to actually realize these ideas, they flounder. Which idea is best? Which will capture their interest until the end?

I recently encountered this myself as I tried to think of what I should be working on this moment. It's a new year and I'm ready to commit to writing again. Ready to blog. Ready to write. Ready to live.

But what project should occupy my time? Should I tackle the rewrite of my novel? Should I begin a new novel? Is now the perfect time to write that winning entry for Writers of the Future? Maybe I should work on that middle grade detective idea I had, with each story being a short one listed for sale as an ebook, with a larger story slowly unfolding over the various stories. That idea has been niggling at the back of my mind a lot. Then there's that mushroom anthology looking for entries. They're paying only 1¢ a word, but you know how badly I like to write dark fantasy about mushrooms.

How ADHD affects me in this situation is that there is a pressure in the mind when decisions are complex and difficult. It's an uncomfortable sensation. Without realizing it (and this is the magical ADHD part) my mind is off thinking about something else, as if decision making is Teflon coated and impervious to ADHD focus. Since I need to come to a decision eventually, I decided to analyze the process so that I could describe it better. I believe the problem has to do with feeling things too intensely.

When I have a handful of choices to select from, each one gives me a burst of emotion—as if each idea has a rocket strapped to it pulling me at full force in different directions. I want to do them all but can't do them all, so I get stuck in a loop waffling from one idea to the next or I avoid the decision altogether. It can be overwhelming.

The solution for my problem may be the same solution for yours, however. We simply need time—dedicated time to give the problem its full due attention. Not every decision is easy to make. And some options are so close to each other it is hard to see which is better. Sometimes there is no better decision. We just simply have to pick one and move forward.

I've decided to work on the kid detective short story and give myself until February 9th to complete it. Then I will finish the rewrite of my novel. Then I will begin a new one. See? Wasn't that easy? And it only took me four weeks to do it.

Hold Tight. I'm Moving Things Around.

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 12:03:43 PST

Just a quick note to let you know that I started importing old blog entries from my Posterous blog (http://douglascootey.posterous.com) into A Splintered Mind last night. You may see these entries show up as "new" in your RSS feed. I'll also be moving the new entries from douglascootey.com over here. I hope you enjoy reading them.

I'll be doing a bit of tweaking behind the scenes over the next few weeks. Some of this will show up in the RSS feed as well, especially when I reorganize my blog tags. I have over 40 different categories. Maybe that's too many? I don't know. You'd think I had ADHD or something and was constantly bored. At least I'm not like Neil Gaiman who makes up new ones on the fly with each entry. Can you imagine what his tag list looks like after ten years?

I'm thinking I will reduce my blog categories down to a manageable nine, with an extra "Stuff" getting everything else. What categories/tags would you like to see to make things easier to find? So far the top three will be ADHD, Depression, and Writing. I'm open to suggestions for the others.

~Dˢ

iPad Sketch #3: Two Pumpkins For Pumpkin

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:24:18 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

The Importance of Routine, or Why I Will Not Research "Terra Nova" Any More Today

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 13:09:32 PST

Again it is Wensday and I am looking at the sands of the hourglass piling up against me. My shift starts in a few hours, so of course this was a perfect time to get distracted researching whether "Terra Nova" was renewed for another season or not. I was depressed; I needed the distraction. Right?

I've been working on a review of Apple iOS 5's Reminder program. I've run the app through its paces and come up with a list of strengths and weaknesses. Unfortunately, I've been swamped with life, work, &c. and found myself missing that self-imposed Wensday deadline every week. When was the last time I wrote here anyway? 1998? I can't recall.

So, obviously I'm not writing. What have I been doing?

Right now I am dealing with the disappointing news that my Christmas employment comes to an end next Friday. Apparently, my kids' schedule limitations were a factor. I've worked something out with my former wife and updated my availability, but the few scant jobs have already been offered to the lucky few. I don't really stand much of a chance now. This could be a blessing in disguise. So much exposure to random strangers is giving me a cold every other week, and I've been so busy working and recuperating that I haven't had much time to think forward to my future. Working in retail shouldn't really be the only event on my horizon.

Well, I've been thinking about my Depression lately. I'm divorced. I'm celebrating my birthday this Friday without my family of 23 years. I'm laid off. I'm lonely. My bosses are twenty years younger than I am (and trim & beautiful in all the ways I am not). I can't drown my sorrows in my favorite Cream o' Weber eggnog because Darigold bought them out. And my kids have the Wii with them at their mother's. These are truly tough times.

Maybe it's time to live for ME during the two weeks I don't have the kids instead of surviving as a zombie. Maybe I need to blog and write and draw and create to help offset the crushing disappointments of my life. After all, just because I can't watch Wii Netflix from the comfort of my couch, should that be a reason to stop living? If I'm not careful I'll end up watching all ten seasons of Stargate SG-1 again.

So for now on I will post something on Wensday whether it is an in-depth post or not. Even without photos if I have to, as I am doing today. With ADHD, we need structure and routine to stay productive, even if our distractibility fights at that structure. This becomes difficult when we, the distracted, must provide our own structure, but since the alternative is low self-esteem due to gross unproductivity and wasted years, I'd rather bite the bullet and plod along. Already I can feel a small shift in my mind as I forced myself to do this today instead of twiddling my thumbs metaphorically before my shift started.

Routine creates habits, and habits, more specifically the good ones, help us offset our absentmindedness. Without structure, we can do a lot worse than spend twenty minutes researching TV shows. We can flit from distraction to distraction for hours and piddle away our precious time.

One way I enforce structure is with a barrage of alarms on my iPhone. The same calendar is shared on my Mac and iPad, so all three devices start booping, beeping, and humming every time I have an event come up. It's overkill, but it helps keep me on my toes. How do you like to rein in your distractibility and establish a routine?

Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing progress over at @DouglasCootey. I also explore iPhone photography with Instagram as douglascootey (peek). And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well. I've been quiet on the social networking scene lately, but I expect that to pick up after the holidays. Lucky you.

Hidden in the Fog There Is Promise

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:24:09 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

A thick, milky fog rolled in tonight from winters past, burying my apartment complex with sudden mystique. There is something about a cold, December fog that adds mood to humdrum landscapes. Perhaps it is the way everything is hidden in patches of silhouette and light, and buildings, partially revealed, take on the air of shapes that aren’t quite entirely in our world. It gives my mind nourishment for the imagination.

I look upon my night in wonder, but inside I am harrowed up and troubled. If you had told me I would be working at Bigbox Bullseye at 44 years old, I would have thought you were being needlessly cruel. I had big plans for my life. I was going to shake the world to its foundation. Who would pursue a world shaking career in retail?

Plenty of people, apparently. My job is filled with dozens of friendly, busy people who dart about making the Bigbox Bullseye a magical place for all its happy guests. Each guest service lead seems to have the codes for all produce recallable at the tip of their tongue. I’ve managed to remember the code for bananas. It’s 4011. You should examine one sometime. Somewhere in America a group of important people decided these things long ago.

On a busy day there might be ten of us cashiers manning the front lines. With so many disparate schedules, however, it is difficult to establish meaningful relationships with these co-workers. Only one cashier is let off to take a break at a time, and the lunchroom is filled with quiet, tired employees catching their breath before heading back into the fray. I imagine over time the camaraderie will come as we see each other more and more. Already two workers who I felt would sooner plunge a coat hanger into my eye than say “Hi” to me were suddenly friendly to me today. I can only hope that I fare as well with my managers and make the cut to stay on beyond Christmas. I dearly need the money.

Yet all of the work I do brings in such small, but tidy, piles of cash. And with the divorce leaving my kids in pieces, and my life cluttered with 23 years of detritus, and the worry of grabbing every extra shift possible to generate funds for Christmas, I haven’t had much time for writing. I’m pulled in too many directions, including Depression which grabs ahold of me a lot more than I would like.

Truthfully, I am out of the habit of writing. I will have to start with a small goal again—a meager 50 words at the very least—to train myself to justify and squeeze writing time back into my life. After all, isn’t that what I would like to be paid doing? Not bagging groceries?

To make the job more in line with my writing goals, I take mental notes of the people I encounter. There is such a wide variety of people that pass by me every day. Right now the trainwrecks stand out, but I imagine in time I will begin to learn new ways to describe regular folk. They all have something unique about them to immortalize as a character in a book.

The trainwrecks share one thing in common: they generally ignore the cashier. In a way, I suppose, I am part of the fog, obscured in my red and khaki outfit as part of the cash register. They hold the most alarming conversations in front of me. Here is a jewel I heard the other day:

Today a sallow faced guest flashed her new engagement ring to her friend and said, “Would you think that a stone this large was real coming from someone as poor as he is?”

“A fireman’s salary…” replied her friend apologetically.

“Yeah, a fireman’s salary. He used his savings to buy it,” she said and sniffed, as if his sacrifice was embarrassing to her. Then she dropped her hand, bored of the subject, and gathered her goods.

I simply smiled and wished her a nice day. Too bad I could not rescue her fireman fiancé from the fire of her snarky heart.

I won’t soon forget the mother who took her boy Christmas shopping for his own presents. “No! You can’t touch that! That’s for Santa to bring to you. Shhh!” His heartbroken wails still echo in my mind.

Mostly I notice physical characteristics, like the lady who’s eyebrows looked more plundered than plucked, or the girl yesterday with dark long hair, porcelain skin, and a most tiny nose jewel that enhanced her beauty instead of distracting from it. Her large, deep brown, almond shaped eyes made her look like Princess Jasmine and I felt as if I could wring my shirt and shuffle my feet like Goofy while saying “Gawrsh, lady. You’re perty.”

In the end, I hope to have a greater appreciation for the beauty of people and their wide diversity. I realize now how flat my characters have been, and I look forward to bringing them to greater life in the near future.

As I watched the fog crash into my building in eddies, I enjoyed the moment. I could actually see the fog swirl and billow, but now I realize I could have been writing instead. It is hard to feel too guilty about taking time to notice the cool mystery of a foggy December evening, though. As long as I sit down to write about it, each experience will make my writing skill that much richer.

Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing progress over at @DouglasCootey. I also explore iPhone photography with Instagram as douglascootey (peek). And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well.

iPad Sketch #2: Pumpkin's Gone Horribly Wrong

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:24:02 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

Monday Musing: Donuts on the Mind

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:23:55 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

Life2.0 has been full of interesting twists and turns. The latest is my Christmas stint at Bigbox Bullseye, which starts tomorrow. It's not glamorous, but it will help me update my job history with something contemporary while I rethink my options. Oh, and it will help me pay bills and buy boxes of Christmas cheer, something to be smiled upon, I'm sure.

And now that “Get a job. Just any job.” has been checked off of my list, I can move onto the next item: School or not? I decided “not” for now. It needs to be a means to an end, not the end itself. After that was “Art or not?”, but that one may have to wait.

You see, now that my ticking disorder has subsided, I'm feeling the urge to draw again. Unfortunately, the years of ticking damaged my skill. I would need to retrain to get my skill back to a professional level. So deciding to pursue illustration is not an easy decision. Is it something I really want to do, or is it just a distraction? Don't I want to write? Can I do both? Considering I have ADHD, doing two goals at a time may not be possible unless I'm laser focused and full of energy.

Now that I have a job to replace the one I lost last October, I can relax a bit and direct my attention to the bigger picture. Any goal I pick should be my main goal. It should be my life. Otherwise, it might as well be a hobby if I'm not going to pursue it seriously. Whatever I decide to do will determine the path I should follow. I need to ignore the urge to go back and right the wrongs of my life by completing the things I never finished. That is polluted water flowing under a very worn out bridge. What is more important is deciding what would make me happy going forward, then tailoring my life to make that possible.

So much to decide. And that is actually rather exciting.

Today's writing exercise is a quickie. Take a look at the picture and write three sentences about what is going through the mind of the person looking the donuts over.

The donuts looked like they had recently escaped an oil change in somebody's garage, but the Boston Creme called out and said "Pick me! I have a date with your waist." Cal found himself weakening despite the filth and grime. Was that anti-freeze by the cruellers?

Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing progress over at @DouglasCootey. I also explore iPhone photography with Instagram as douglascootey (peek). And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well.

A Rose By Any Other Name…

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:23:48 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

iPad sketch in Bamboo Paper.

Oh yeah! I'm supposed to be writing or something…

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:23:37 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

I've noticed I'm not getting much writing done lately. Instead, I'm moving things on eBay, filling out job applications, being sick. It's been a party.

I'm surviving by hocking collectibles on eBay. It's not making big bucks, but I'm paying the bills. Mostly. And at least I'm keeping the minivan filled with gas. Of course, "filled" is relative. It's actually more like "at least I'm keeping the engine from sputtering to a stop," but if you pretend that 10% is 100%, then that tank is brimming over the edge with gusto.

Aside from being down for obvious reasons, and it being the beginning of Winter Depression for me, I did have a bit of a setback the other day. I took my blood pressure and discovered it was 183 over 118. I hear that's bad. My dad was so surprised when he heard the numbers that he jumped a bit off the couch. So I've been working on reducing stress, breathing easy, and enjoying life.

Consequently, even though I came up with a great idea for NaNoWriMo, I've decided it isn't something I will participate in this year. Just a wee bit too much stress. It seems my family life is always far too hectic to allow for such dedication. And so it is again.

But what about writing? I have to admit that I miss it. With my life being in such disarray, I haven't justified time to sit and imagine for fun. But I believe that I have an answer. It's been a while, but perhaps it is time to revisit my Distracted Writers Club idea. I've had a year or so to work on it and find its strengths and limitations. I think I'll roll out a new version of it on Monday, just in time for me to find something to busy myself with when my kids leave to spend the next two weeks with their mother. When they return in December, I will begin training them again to allow for my writing time, and I'll have two weeks without distraction under my belt to give me a bit of momentum.

And there's the writing update. Except for one thing. By Monday I will decide whether I am rewriting "Sneaker's Secret" or starting fresh with a new idea. I'm leaning heavily to the new idea. Not just because I have the attention span of a hyperactive fly in a meat store, but because a brand new project in a brand new apartment might be just what I need to help me be a brand new me.

And there's my answer, right there. I begin anew.

~Dˢ

Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing progress over at @DouglasCootey. I also explore iPhone photography with Instagram as douglascootey (peek). And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well.

11 Ways To Embarrass Yourself. Just Add ADHD.

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 08:00:09 PDT

Nothing messes up routine like moving, and when I threw in the end of a long-standing relationship on top of it, my routine was in tatters and my ADHD was out of control. So much of my life was in disarray. But don't worry. At least I got an exchange.

One of the most important goals for me in setting up a new home was to eliminate old items from my previous marriage. Unless I had a strong emotional connection to that errant towel or kitchen utensil, I didn't want it around. It wasn't that they were tainted and evil; I just wanted to start fresh.

Starting fresh can be expensive.

For the first six weeks, the girls didn't use the shower in the bathroom attached to their room because we couldn't afford shower curtains for it. We shared the guest bathroom's shower. One night last month I finally had some money set aside for furnishings. I took them to Bed, Bath & Beyond to pick out their shower curtain.

They bickered over the same three curtains for one hour. I thought I was going to go mad.

When we finally made it home with shower curtains (and new bed sheets), it was late and my brain was fried from a very long day. Imagine how frustrated I was when I discovered only 11 shower rings came in the set of 12. ELEVEN! I was so irritated. My friend was waiting to go to a movie with me at that point, but I promised the girls I'd set up their shower.

My friend drove me back over there and I demanded an exchange for a new set. They asked me if I had miscounted. I took a deep breath to not bite their heads off. Miscounted? What do they take me for? An idiot? And so I got my exchange. We missed the movie, but I left that store with my head held high.

The next day I found the 12th ring attached to a bit of package on the kitchen counter under a towel by the KitchenAid Mixer.

The first thought I had was "Oh, no!". The second was "What the heck is this doing over here?", followed by "Who put this here!?" Then my last thought was "Oh. It was me." You see, the scissors were in the kitchen drawer, and I used them to snip open the package and free all "12"…except for the one on the underside that I left attached and under a towel for some reason.

The shame is that I forgot about it for three weeks until last weekend. It's a bit late to pop on over to the store and say "Oops!"

Embarrassing.

I'll probably call the store in the morning anyway, especially since my friends will read this blog and give me a hard time about it. Preventing this sort of ADHD faux pas is difficult. I was convinced that there were only 11 rings in the package. My mind boarded that train of thought in Boston and couldn't get off until Albuquerque. In the future I'll dig all over the apartment before assuming something is not included. That's what I would have done in my previous home.

It's funny how so many of my coping strategies have been turned on their ear in this move. I look forward to a stable routine in the near future. I certainly would like to avoid further humiliation at the BB&B.

What type of events disrupt your routines and play havoc with your ADHD?

Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing project over at @DouglasCootey. And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well.

Monday Musings: Excuse me, Mister. Where can I hide a dead body?

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:23:30 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

Let's pretend it's Monday…again. Time for a creative writing exercise. Take a look at the picture and write a paragraph or two. No theme. No limits. It can even be pulled from your own memories. Let your imagination go wild for a moment. Today I'm going to write about a real story that happened to me the other day.

Since moving to my new apartment, I've been walking around wondering where I'd stuff a dead body. In the garage? Under the stairs? Beneath a pile of wood chips at the end of the parking lot? Each place seemed too mundane and uninspiring. I needed a creative location that would help me push away the doldrums and get deep into the nitty gritty. I needed a place that would avoid detection and misdirect the police.

Late September the perfect place came to me after they closed the pool off for the winter. There it was; right in plain site. But how much time would it buy?

Weeks passed as I pondered the macabre deed without any ready solution. How could I find out if it would work without making people suspicious? Then one day last week I decided on a whim to query the janitor as he helped me with a keycard issue.

“I have a gruesome question for you. If somebody were to hide a dead body underneath the pool tarp, would it remain there until Spring? Do you ever have reason to lift the tarp and look underneath?”

His eyebrows shot up into orbit, and there was a wide & wild panic to his eyes as he studied my face, trying to see if I was serious. I assured him that I was, and that I was merely curious. I smiled to allay his concerns. All was perfectly normal.

With a small bit of coaxing, he let me know that aside from checking the traps, they never touch the tarp until it's pool season again, sometime in May. I had my answer! Now I could proceed.

As I continued on my walk with a cheerful stride, I didn't let the janitor's bemused looks darken my mood. In my mind, I now knew how to get rid of my victim, and how to frame it on somebody else using the seven month buffer between the deed and when it would be discovered. My mind was racing with the new possibilities.

But the janitor knew, too. Something would have to be done about him. Hopefully, he'd wait to read the story I was writing before he called the police.

~Dˢ

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad while riding a unicycle and gargling peanut butter.

Monday Musing - Sunbeams

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:23:23 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

Since this is a creative exercise, let's pretend it's actually Monday. Then let's pretend this isn't a picture of Earth. Describe the picture in a paragraph or two.

There we were, fifty years strong and finally making headway in terraforming Mars. Even Grandma's Black-eyed Susans could take hold in the brittle Martian soil and spring forth with life without help, though Grandpa said those things could grow anywhere. Then the idiots on Earth decided to "dial down" the sun to stave off Climate Change.

Nobody at the UN would listen to our cries for reason. No, they had a consensus. And so they nuked the sun.

Grandpa says that if the sun doesn't recover soon, all that will be left on Mars will be Grandma's Black-eyed Susans to mark our passing. But he said not to worry. The UN knew just what to do to fix things. They had a consensus.

~Dˢ

(Photo taken with Hipstamatic on an iPhone4)
Sent from my iBrain

Is it supposed to do that?

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:23:15 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

Oops. I'm sure my domain resolving to a Google error page was not quite what I set out to do. I just need an electronic monkey wrench and some virtual dynamite to get it all worked out.
~Dˢ

Sent from my iBrain

Update: FIXED!!

Moving Bits & Bytes

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:23:08 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2.

I've decided to leave Posterous. It wasn't meeting my needs. With the inability to moderate comments, and the latest domain name hiccup that inexplicably took my blog offline, I figured I'd just return to Blogger where my socks were already hanging over the fire.

It'd be just as easy to repoint my blog here as it would be to tinker around the domain innards and get Posterous up and working again. I'll leave the old blog up for a while at douglascootey.posterous.com; there were some great comments made on my posts I'd hate to lose. Otherwise, it's all five bars from here on out at my new location.

So, hold tight. With NaNoWriMo around the corner, I plan on posting in this blog a bit more often. Life2.0 needs a kick in the pants, and maybe a new novel is just the ticket. It'd be much better than a new lover, or even a puppy.

~Dˢ

Omigosh! I'm Late! Wait, No I'm Not!

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 19:34:20 PDT

“It is a painful thing to look at your own trouble and know that you yourself and no one else has made it.” ~Sophocles

That is sage advice, and advice many people should be open to, but I, perhaps, have taken that advice too much to heart. Sometimes adults with ADHD are so used to making mistakes that they assume fault when it's not theirs. That's what happened to me yesterday.

As I retired to bed, I knew I had to be up in the morning for an appointment. That's what my calendar told me, after all. I never remember those things; that's why I write them down. So off to bed I went.

I wish I had slept well, but I didn't. When the morning came around I was comatose and unable to move. I could hear the alarm going off—I could even snooze it—but I wasn't aware enough to realize what time it was.

Snooze.

Snooze.

Snooze.

An hour and a half later my mind turned on. Ohmigosh! I've got fourteen minutes to get ready and across town. And up I shot like a rocket, whirling around my apartment like a whirling dervish in socks. Only after I was in my minivan, four minutes late and booking it down the road, did it suddenly occur to me, "Hey, they never gave me a reminder call about this appointment. Do I really have one?"

Turns out I didn't have one. But they had just received a cancelation, so suddenly I did have an appointment and could I try not to be too late? Great.

Once I had arrived, I learned that originally I did have an appointment at that time, but they thought I had canceled it. Or something. Seems somebody cancelled all my appointments when I cancelled one a few weeks ago.

And for a moment I blamed myself. Fortunately, not for a very long moment. I suspect it was the guilt at waking up late that put me in the wrong frame of mind.

I'm so used to being late and therefore at fault. Here I was doing them a favor, and I still blamed myself for being late. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but feeling guilty is something that I am far too comfortable doing. It is likely wrapped up in that whole adult ADHD with low self-esteem thing I've got going on. It's as much a part of me as my great hair and yellow, spaced teeth.

But should it be?

I'm increasingly of the attitude that not all things that go wrong in my life are my fault. And although there is great polite civility in being easy with the apologies, there is also damage that can be done to interpersonal relationships at work and out when one is too ready to assume blame.

I don't have a ready solution for it yet, but my mind is working on the problem. Since I'm at the beginning of Life2.0, I don't believe I want low self-esteem to be one of my attributes anymore.

What do you think? Adults with ADHD get used to making a lot of mistakes. Some of them either become jerks who never apologize or become milksops who always do. As much as I don't want to admit it, I lean more towards milksop than jerk. Are you like me and apologize too much?

Some People Find Psych Meds Harmful. Stop the H8.

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 12:04:36 PDT

I received an email last month that came at a low time in my life. It was just the burst of sunshine I needed. I write to express myself, but I also write to be read. It's always nice to know that somebody is out there reading. It is even better to learn that something I wrote touched their lives in some way. This email was from a reader who appreciated my voice out there warning of the potential harm of psychotropic meds (Wary of Psych Meds? Here is My Personal Experience with Them). That is why I feel strongly that the email I received needs to be shared with others. Perhaps it will touch them the way my original article touched her.

It is very important to remember that not all people who struggle with mental health issues find solutions at the pharmacy. Some of us fall within that group where the meds have no more effect than placebos. Some of us fall within the group where they cannot afford to buy meds. And some of us are in that other group where side-effects counter any benefits that medications have to offer. Personally, I belong in all three groups at the moment, but usually I simply find psychotropic meds useless or harmful. That is why I find alternative methods to alleviate Depression and ADHD's burden.

Belonging in any one of those three groups earns a person instant membership in the "Mental Health Pariah of the Week" club. Take a stand and tell others dealing with Depression or ADHD that you can't use meds because of the side-effects, and you will be barraged with accusations, insults, and lectures.

Oh, you just need to keep experimenting until you find the right dosage combo.

You're just one of those stupid Scientologist idiots!

You are irresponsible! Think of the poor example you are setting!!

Good luck with that, loser…

It is sad that you are in such denial. I hope you can get help before it's too late!

You don't have real [Depression/ADHD/whatever] if you can manage it without meds.

And on and on and on. That last one is particularly offensive and hurtful to me. A more stunning display of clueless audacity you cannot find in the mental health community: online diagnoses by reading blogs

Folks, there are more experiences out there than those defined by our narrow lives. Each of us is different. If there has been anything I have learned by writing this blog for seven years, it is that my experience is not the same as somebody else's. We must learn to allow some people to need meds, and some people to not need them. We must especially learn to allow some people to find psychotropic meds dangerous and harmful. Then we need to stop forcing our limited experience onto others.

I write to reach those who cannot pop a pill and find relief. They still need help managing ADHD or Depression. They shouldn't be made to suffer because they can't drive on the anti-depressant highway, or wear the proper ADHD suit and tie. There are viable alternatives, like Cognitive Behavior Therapy and reams of self-help books, to help them without the dangers of side-effects. If my strong words are not enough to convince you to back off, read Erika's:

Dear Douglas Cootey;
I just stumbled upon your blog today, and was a bit surprised to see your page concerning psychiatric drugs; unlike most mental health bloggers, you had not written a piece on the importance of compliance and taking medication, you had written one on the damage of taking them. When I finished reading it, I couldn't help but simply stare blankly at the screen, stunned into silence. You may or may not read this; however, if you do, I want to thank you for speaking out. You not only send an important message - that medication-free recovery/regained functioning can be done - but also let others with similar damage know they're not alone. You've let me know I'm not alone, certainly.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder I with psychotic features, or, if you listen to some doctors, Schizoaffective Disorder back when I was 13. I was also at various points labeled with generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, ADHD, borderline traits, and so forth. Without any doubt, I was in awful place and ended up being hospitalized twice within four months, with an intensive outpatient program in-between. I received therapy once a week from my psychiatrist (surprisingly enough, he gave it - in fact, he prefers it to drug therapy and bashes his field for over-medication). Of course, I was also put on pharmaceuticals: an anti-psychotic (Zyprexa, then Serequel), a mood stabilizer (Lithium) and an antidepressant (Paxil).

To cut a long story short, in less than a year, I had gone from a healthy adolescent to a scared girl suffering spasms/tics and Long QT syndrome (a heart condition that can be fatal and was causing symptoms - which it usually doesn't - that were interfering with my life). My doctor did wean me off of them; however, the withdrawal process left me experiencing seizure-like events (spasms accompanied by cognitive symptoms, moments of absence/blanking out, etc), balance problems, memory problems and other cognitive effects. That was quite some time ago and, though I have healed some, the heart condition and many of the neurological ones have become chronic.

I have tried telling this story so many times; but each time, I have been attacked by those in the mental health community - both patients and professionals. They don't want to hear it or, if they do, they become defensive and throw insults. During the weaning process, I was active on a message board for psychosis sufferers and, when I announced I was going off, I had other members saying that I was going to relapse, that this could never work, that I was just going to end up back on them, and was accused of being anti-psychiatry. A few months later, a member actually messaged me with the comment, "So, are you still lucid?" The answer was yes, I was, and more stable than ever before. My life has since continued to improve and I am about to start college where I will pursue a pre-medical curriculum; I hope to become a psychiatrist, so that I can stop what happened to me from happening to another.

Anyways, thank you again for sharing your story. I only wish that I had a place to do the same. Those of us who have been harmed have experiences that are important to hear. If they are not heard, things may never improve.

Erika

Thank you for writing, Erika. And thank you for letting me share your email with others.

Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing project over at @DouglasCootey. And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well.

8 Links That Will Change Your Life

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 20:47:27 PDT

As my week comes to a close, I thought I'd share a few links with you to read over the weekend. They may even change your life. What? Too much? I don't know what to say. "Links and Stuff" just seemed so boring.

Anyways…

I've been busy over at ADDaboy!. You might find a few of these interesting:

When Megan Fox and ADHD Collide

Warning! Depression is Dangerous! Or Something…

SpongeBob SquarePants Makes Kiddies ADHD?

Stick It to ADHD Forgetfulness!

ADHD: Of Mousse and Men ☚ My personal favorite of the month.

You Can Control Your ADHD Impulses And Avoid Stalker Charges, Too!

I've also wrote a bit about where my writing is at over at my other blog, Absentminded Author:

Cleaning House; Cleaning Life

In the meantime, I just realized I haven't posted my ADDaboy! audio clip this week. Or was it due last week? Shoot.

Lastly, I came across a blog that was a reply to something I posted the other day. I thought it was a great post by a new blogger, One Man's War On Depression. Go on over and check him out:

Broken hearts and fragile minds

Enjoy your weekend!

~Dˢ

Cleaning House; Cleaning Life

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 18:58:12 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v1.

First, a confession:

I love black licorice.

I know this may come as a shock to some of you, but I felt that I needed to come clean on this. Boy! Does that feel good to get off my chest. Now I can mention the insignificant things in passing without breaking a sweat. Who cares that I'm now divorced, don't tic as much anymore, and hanging onto life with my fingernails and a smile when big things like my secret candy fetish can finally be exposed to the light and shown to the world?

Oh, it's not a secret? Dang.

So, after getting dumped after 23 years, I have nothing but black licorice to keep me company, right?

Well, that's not entirely true. I have joint legal and physical custody of my girls, and I switch off with their mother every two weeks. This was a sudden development (July 31st), so I've not had a lot of time to prepare. My now ex-wife left a week after her announcement, and the kids stayed with me. This is my first week without them…ever. I've been the custodial, full-time parent for 19 years. So it's been very hard and quite an adjustment. But I'm doing alright.

Alright, I admit it. I'm super discouraged. I might as well come clean on that as well. I loved my wife, thought the world of her, looked forward to living together with her for time and all eternity, and I have no idea how things got by me like this. It's not as if she hasn't tried to ditch me before, but I really did believe we had worked things out this time.

As a full-time parent, I put off finishing my degree and I didn't seek jobs outside of the home. I was saving us thousands on daycare costs and needed to be available to drive the girls around. So now that I need money, I have only my meager disability payment and child support to survive. It's a pretty dire situation.

However, I'm keeping myself busy by misplacing my flab (I've lost 13 pounds since July 31st and don't know where I've put them. That's 28 pounds lost since last year. I'm so irresponsible!), and by working for HealthyPlace.com. I've resurrected ADDaboy! and I also work as their TV & radio show producer, finding guests for them to interview. (Got a mental health story you need to share? Contact me. My first TV and radio interviews occured this week. I have no idea how well they went because I forgot I could listen in on the shows live. Yep. Mr. High Tech over here.

It's a small job, but it will help me get by. I'm also trying to unload things on eBay. And maybe, just maybe, I might be able to get some freelance work now. We'll see. The divorce was such a shock to my system that I haven't had a major ticking episode since July 31st. I believe turning my sleep schedule around has helped that drastically, and then there is the belief I have that the Lord has blessed me in no small part. Whatever the reason, I haven't needed a crutch or even a cane in almost 8 weeks. That's pretty miraculous to me.

So what does this all mean for my writing? Well, first I have all this time now on my hands. Some of it has been wasted being depressed, devastated, and discouraged. Sorry about that. I'm so weak, I know. But I've been asking myself "Who am I? What am I going to do with my life?" There are so many distractions in my world. When should I write? What should I write? I realize that I need to clean up my online life to focus it in one or two directions. Twitter, Facebook, Google+, blogs, old web sites. There's a lot out there that I've done over the past sixteen years on the web. It leads me in too many directions.

Today I decided to retire most of cootey.com. I have it forwarded to this blog now. There are a few pages I may keep up for the fun of it. Or I may delete them. I don't know yet. That site was old and outdated anyway, but it was up and representing me whether I wanted it to or not, so I've felt for some time I needed to do something about it. But what? Art? Writing? Work? Do I even need it? I'll figure something out.

And now that I'm writing ADDaboy! again, what the heck am I going to do with A Splintered Mind? I don't know. All of this is both intimitading and exciting. My whole life is in front of me. Half of the time I'm still a Dad, but the other half is now all mine. What I do with it going forward will help shape me as the man I want to be.

My Mum told me last night that she was proud of me for making lemonade out of lemons. I don't know about that. I'm just trying to survive. With some luck, I'll move from surviving to living. Then maybe I can feel I'm getting somewhere. Until then, I have house cleaning to do both online and off.

I can do this.

On Heartache and Depression

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 15:26:01 PDT

Something happened to me over the summer that I never expected: I became a divorced dad.

It's hard to say exactly what went wrong without airing dirty laundry. I'm OK with you seeing my dingy socks, but I'm conscientious about you seeing my Spiderman Underoos. I also don't think it's fair or respectable to cast my ex's undies to the four corners of the earth. Let's just say that there was a profound breakdown in respect and trust, and the rumors of my alliance with the Lord of Evil are exaggerated. Hopefully, that's vague enough that nobody will take offense.

Well, there is this LIST out there I may one day talk about. I hear it's pretty big, details my crimes against humanity, and requires a forklift to move about. If I ever get a hold of it, I'm sure it will provide material for this blog until the end of time—or make me scratch my head and wonder why anybody would spend so much time making a list of thousands of things I've allegedly done wrong instead of helping me fix things.

At any rate, I slipped into the deepest depression of my life last May. I didn't know it at the time, but that feeling of hopelessness I had was caused by my marriage dissolving like fizz in an opened bottle of pop. Truthfully, my ex-wife has been waffling between happily and horribly married for ten years, and with the encouragement of peers and family she made the announcement on July 31st that she wanted a divorce.

I tried as I did in the past to save things, but this time as I prayed for help I knew that there was no help coming. She had made her choice. I then made the choice to finalize the divorce as quickly as I could manage with no recriminations and acrimony. I still gave her opportunity after opportunity to rethink her decision as I worked with a mediator and clergy, but she was resolute. On our 23rd anniversary, we were in a lawyer's office signing papers. I got the minivan and the Kitchenaid mixer. She got the old apartment with its heaven-like fiber optic internet connection of transcendent speed. We have joint custody of the kids. That's the biggest win—for all of us.

After 19 years of being the full-time custodial parent, saving us thousands of dollars in daycare costs, but with no finished degree or recent job experience, I could go off on a tirade about injustices and betrayals and anger and GRRR and ARGH and WHYOHWHYOHWHY, or I could focus on the things she felt I did wrong and the things that I agreed with her about, but what I choose to share is how I'm keeping myself from being suicidal, and how I'm separating being sad from being depressed.

Step One: Keeping Busy

I may be home alone in my apartment today as my kids spend the next two weeks at their mother's, but I am surprisingly upbeat. Not having-a-great-time-wish-you-were-here upbeat, but more like not-ready-to-die upbeat. It's a notch above despair, but I'll take it. I am now blogging again for HealthyPlace.com over at ADDaboy!, and I also their TV & Radio show producer, finding interesting folks for them to interview. The first person I found is being interviewed right now. It's challenging finding people who aren't terrified of being outed because of mental health stigmas, but I know in time I can make this work well. I'll also be doing some freelance work for them if things work out, and I have my book that has patiently awaited my renewed attention.

Step Two: Maintaining Good Sleep

Being without the kids since Sunday has punched my sleep schedule in the gut, but I'm done being winded and am prepared to retire to bed early again tonight. I discovered that I never truly tried to sleep. I would get bored and wander off to find something to do. This time, I have made rest a priority. Eliminating sleep deprivation has made a profound difference in my life.

Step Three: Allowing Myself To Be Sad

Hey, I got dumped after 23 years of love, forgiveness & sacrifice. It hurts. A lot. It hurts worse than when my brother died. I hurts worse than anything I have ever experienced in my life. You think maybe I'm going to be a little sad that my best friend no longer loves me? You bet. And I do myself no favors by denying those feelings because of a misguided effort to prevent Depression. Sadness is a response to tragic or disheartening events; Depression is an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and misery that pulls my heart to the grave. Sadness invites comfort from others; Depression compels me to drive others away. When my thoughts are tainted with hopelessness and dreams of death, I know they are induced by Depression and I fight them off. When I pine for the marriage lost and wish things had turned out differently, or even burst into tears, I know it's a response to the tragedy I'm living through. I allow it to happen.

Man, I haven't cried this much since my parents wouldn't let me watch the Red Sox compete in the American League pennant game in 1975. So stoic for so many years, and only now has the water works started to trickle and stop again. August was a wet month.

Step Four: Thinking Forward

I can't do anything about the past. If I did anything wrong, epiphanies and insight can only be so useful. I try to learn from my mistakes and move on. Dwelling on the past with "If ONLY" thoughts will only cause pain. I can't change the past. I can't change the past. I can't change the past. But I can change the future. That's where I am focusing my energies now. I have a new apartment, and I have strived to make it a home for my girls. I worry about them, and I worry about making money and that's it. Once I succeed at surviving, I will focus on living. And then maybe planning again. I'm giving myself time.

In all of this turmoil, there are a few upsides. With no money in the bank, I have a balanced bank account. I've lost an AWFUL lot of weight. I have a new pair of pants. My home is neat and tidy without any kids running around. I may have finally overcome my lifelong fixation with blondes. And I understand pain so well now that my writing is bound to show increased depth. We'll see.

For now I am simply looking forward to having my girls here again, and maybe have enough dough to take them out for a treat—maybe even smile again. Sadness will be a constant companion for the time being, but Depression doesn't have to be. Too many little hearts are counting on me.

And now you know. Welcome to my Life2.0.

Experimenting with a Wacom iPad Stylus

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 18:58:04 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v1.

Sent from my iPad, polished with moonbeams and unicorn tears.

Google+ App for the iPhone Arrived, and My Focus Left

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 18:57:54 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v1.

In the back of my mind I know I am supposed to be doing something very important. It niggles at me like a midge around my nose, but I swat it away. My afternoon has been spent preoccupied with the Google+ app for the iPhone.

Notifications in sync with the web service, sharing photos finally from my camera roll, huddling with strangers in warm circles, notification badges letting me know when something's been updated… It's been a geek's paradise.

There are a few reefs to navigate on our way to Paradise Island:

We can't reshare any items, making this social networking app almost useless for social networking.

We can't copy text from other G+ posts in order to quote or share with others

We can't tag people with a + unless they are in our Address Book, as opposed to our G+ circles which would be arguably more useful, thus further severing social connections.

We can't re-edit posts. (People such as myself need a magic eraser to redo most mistakes in life because we make so many of them.)

Lastly, the "Nearby" timeline is jumbled up. Oddly, a post from 18 days ago will be followed by a post from 30 minutes ago, followed by a post from 3 days ago, followed by 5 days, 2 hours, 10 minutes, 4 days, etc. If you like to see your local social networking history served to you like Scrabble tiles dumped on a board, then Google+ is for you. If you were hoping to find out what's going on around you right this very moment, it is less than helpful. The jumble isn't any different than what users of the mobile web interface see, but I had hoped that was due to poor GPS support through the browser. Now I know differently. It's very beta.

All in all, though, I can see myself using the service more now that I can share photos with it. It's snappier than the web version, and offers more features, but I will likely only use Google+ when I'm at my Mac in my studio. The lack of resharing means G+ will only be a platform for self-broadcasting for the time being and I already do that with my two blogs, two Twitter accounts, Facebook, etc. Wow, that sounds pretty pathetic, doesn't it?

At any rate, I can't see myself abandoning Facebook as others have done, or deleting my blogs and pointing my domains to my G+ homepage. The service is a geek's paradise only for the moment. Others will find their way to paradise. Then there will be billboards, and scooter rentals, and traffic jams. If you are on G+, drop by http://gplus.to/cootey and toss me in a circle. Give it a name like "Obviously Distracted From Important Matters". Say "Hi." We can be distracted together.

Meanwhile, there's that midge again…

~Dˢ

Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing over at @DouglasCootey. And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well.

At a Colorful Crossroads

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 18:57:43 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v1.

I've spent the better part of today working on my novel's storyboard. I have to admit that I am bored senseless rewriting my story on tiny little index cards and sticking them up on a wall.

I've been aware for a few weeks that the tedious nature of this process was sapping my enthusiasm, yet I pushed on mainly because I don't like to allow boredom to rob me of happiness. That, and I'm stubborn. Truthfully, though, I haven't worked as regularly on my story as I had planned. My 16 year old was off being a nanny for somebody else and summer with a 12 year old and a 9 year old usually meant I was quite busy. I also started wondering if there was a better way to storyboard.

Today I determined to finish chapter six ― The Chapter That Refused To Die ― and make a final decision. Either I was going to finish the storyboard and make it work, or I was going to decide I was wasting my time.

After a few interrupted hours, something came to me. I realized I didn't need a visual overview of the story. I just needed a quick way to mark up the text to determine where descriptions, dialogue, or action were distracting the reader from the plot. A little bit of research later showed me that Scrivener, the app I already use to compile my story on my Mac, could highlight text in the colors I wanted, do it quickly, and let me edit the story as I went along. However, there was no app that could do all that on the iPad, my chosen writing platform.

If I output the manuscript as an ePub file, I could highlight and annotate in iBooks on my iPad, and edit text on my iPhone. So there was a portable option, but it was less than ideal. With two viable solutions, I forced myself to finish chapter six' index cards (because it was personal), and decided to ponder my options.

In the end, all this storyboarding was in essence rewriting the story on index cards when I could have been directly working on the second draft instead. I'm a visual person so the color cards worked well to help me rethink the story, but they were discouraging me from pressing on because the process wasn't any fun. It was such tiresome work that my brain would leap out of my ears for self-preservation. I don't regret my time spent doing this because the story needed the work, but I do wish I had thought of a better way earlier. I would have spent less time chasing after my own mind.

In the meantime, I've come up with some great ideas to fix the story. All I need is to highlight the text according to my color scheme. Then I can see when certain passages are slowing down the story. Is there too much description? Too much character developing dialogue that doesn't push the story along? Too many alternating slow description blocks with action blocks interrupting the flow? Not enough concrete details, etc? The first six chapters of my story were a mess anyway, so now I can see what needs tweaking. The rest of the book should be a lot easier to correct with the new method – especially if I can manage to not lose my mind.

Let Me Tell You a Storyboard

noreply@blogger.com (Douglas Cootey) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 18:57:35 PST

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v1.

For the past few weeks I've been working on storyboarding my first draft. I thought, "Hey! I need a way to see my story's pacing visually." At first I thought I would thumbnail the entire story just like Pixar would do, complete with stick figures in action sequences.

Then I had a good laugh. Yeah, like I want to put off the second draft for the next year as I meticulously illustrate every scene. You don't think I could really just stick figure it, do you? Yeah, I can see the blood, sweat & tears now as I render each frame dramatically, using models as references, inked by brush, maybe some color…

Then I thought I'd just use index cards. I became much happier with that thought.

I use red for action, yellow for dialogue, and green for setting and description. I'm looking for red/green/red/green combos that show action scenes rudely interrupted by wonderful tracts of descriptive prose. I dislike reading books where the action is interrupted by flashbacks, character backgrounds, or hyper realistic settings detail that stops the action dead in its tracks and forces you to slog through paragraphs of detail.

If you followed me on Twitter, you know that Chapter Six — The Chapter That Refused To Die — was a problem one for me. I even split it into chapters 6-8 and it is STILL too long. It's also filled with red/green/red/green combos of beautiful prose that kills the action as effectively as an 18 wheeler in the path of bicyclists.

I can also see that the first chapter is heavy on description and sparse on dialogue. Lots to fix before I begin the 2nd draft and get the book in the hands of eager readers.

It's a laborious process which I'm very glad I'm doing. Being a full-time dad, however, without his 16 year old built-in babysitter has meant that I haven't had much writing time this Summer, so the storyboarding process has taken too long. I hope to finish things up next week when she returns. We'll see.

~Dˢ