H. Dean's Blog: Meanderings, page 4
July 23, 2013
I hate writing
Every night when I go to bed and turn out the lights I review the things I have written. New ideas spring forth for stories and how I want to write my stories. Phrases, words, story arcs - they are all there in my head. Next day, when I sit down to write them down they evaporate into thin air and I find myself struggling for how to put my ideas on the printed page.
I really hate writing. But I can't stop.
I really hate writing. But I can't stop.
July 13, 2013
Long Time Coming
Okay, in the past year and a half I got tied up in a stupid online game I have sworn never to play again. The damned thing not only sucked away my time but it killed my writing. For those interested in getting things done you should never, ever, ever play Lord of Ultima. It will destroy your life and leave you destitute.
Now that that is out of my system I have managed to get another story done. If all things go as expected it should get horrible reviews. I say that because it seems as if my more outlandish and extreme stuff gets good reviews, while the more "normal" stuff tends towards average reviews, at best. My latest is a "normal" story, over all.
For anyone who cares, I will get a link up soon, and I hope to be more of a participant in other things here.
H Dean
Now that that is out of my system I have managed to get another story done. If all things go as expected it should get horrible reviews. I say that because it seems as if my more outlandish and extreme stuff gets good reviews, while the more "normal" stuff tends towards average reviews, at best. My latest is a "normal" story, over all.
For anyone who cares, I will get a link up soon, and I hope to be more of a participant in other things here.
H Dean
December 23, 2011
Christmas at Ground Zero
The Republicans are saying "Merry Christmas" and the Democrats are saying "Happy Holidays" and the Jews are saying Happy Hanuka (even if they can't agree on a spelling) and the atheists are saying "Happy Winter Solstice" and the Jehovah Witnesses are shaking their fingers.
Meanwhile, the Republicans are claiming there is a war on Christianity, the Democrats are saying we need to remain open as to whether or not there is a god because they don't want to offend anyone, the Jews are speaking on a language no one understands, the atheists are posting billboards affirming there is no god and the Jehovah Witnesses are knocking at our doors so they can wag their fingers at us.
Tis the season for a war of words.
I say we go back to celebrating Saturnalia - a rousing holiday marked by gift giving, debauchery, drinking and a rousing sacrifice. And I know just who to sacrifice.
Meanwhile, the Republicans are claiming there is a war on Christianity, the Democrats are saying we need to remain open as to whether or not there is a god because they don't want to offend anyone, the Jews are speaking on a language no one understands, the atheists are posting billboards affirming there is no god and the Jehovah Witnesses are knocking at our doors so they can wag their fingers at us.
Tis the season for a war of words.
I say we go back to celebrating Saturnalia - a rousing holiday marked by gift giving, debauchery, drinking and a rousing sacrifice. And I know just who to sacrifice.
November 4, 2011
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving will soon be upon us all and with the holiday comes the wonder of food. Thanksgiving food, to be exact. Foods for which I have a lasting and heartfelt distaste, disdain and downright hatred.
It started when I was a child. This is when most of our adult phobias, hatreds or odd reactions start. They start at childhood.
I was sitting at the table. Adults filtered in around and sat beside me, across from me and several chairs away. The table was filled with food and the the people sitting round it would soon be, as well.
These were not my friends with whom we dined. These were friends of my parents and there were many. At least twelve people sat at the table and each was filled with complements for the varying dishes that varying friends had brought along. There was Lori's dressing, Marie's stuffing, Bill's cranberry sauce, Kathy's candied yams, Rosie's flan, Mom's turkey, mash potatoes and gravy, Angie's green bean casserole and several other traditional Thanksgiving dishes. It all looked so delicious. Everyone said so.
We all got to eating. I had a couple slices of turkey breast, a couple dollops of mashed potatoes and a glass of milk. It was all I wanted.
"Hey, H. Dean," someone called. Yes, they called me H. Dean as a child. "You didn't have any stuffing," Marie said.
I kindly informed her that I do not like stuffing.
She kindly replied back, "That's because you haven't had my stuffing."
"At least try it," she said. My mother chimed in with the same command and in an instant there was an unwanted, unwelcome dollop of stuffing on my plate.
A few moments alter there were other comments. Bill noticed I didn't have any cranberry sauce on my plate.
"I don't like cranberry sauce," I told him.
"That's because you haven't tried my cranberry sauce," he said. "Just try some." Mom agreed. Dollop on my plate.
In short order I had a plate full of shit I didn't like. Candied yams, flan, green bean casserole and other hideous things filled my plate. I hated it all.
Then came the wonderful surprised exclamation from my mother some half hour later. "Why, H. Dean, you've hardly touched your food."
Unfortunately, no matter how I tried, I was forced to eat the lumps of horrible tasting foods whether I liked it or not. Then, to add insult to injury, my parents had me help them clean the dishes afterwards while being told me how upset they were at my behavior - at how I insulted Bill, Marie and the rest when I reacted negatively to their food.
To be sure, I was angry as they. My arguments went nowhere and I was stuck with the same repetitive Thanksgiving horror every year until I was about sixteen. At that point I refused to give in to the 'You'll like mine' crowd. I merely reminded them that I didn't like it last year or the year before or the year before that. "Did you add a new ingredient?" Of course they had not. "Then why would I like it better now than last year?" They were annoyed but they shut up and I didn't have to eat their vile concoction.
I'm having a tri-tip for Thanksgiving. It will be cooked in my smoker over hickory and apple wood. I will cook it for about four hours. It will be rare. It will be juicy. It will not have cranberries, yams or flan. I will not eat green bean casserole and I will not eat anything I dislike.
If you are visiting me and if you bring a dish over to my house I will thank you. But if I tell you I don't like a particular dish...if I say I do not like the main ingredient in your dish...choose your next words wisely. I am six feet four inches tall, fast, armed with WMD, suffer from post traumatic thanksgiving syndrome and I hate the phrase "That's because you haven't tried my (whatever)."
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
It started when I was a child. This is when most of our adult phobias, hatreds or odd reactions start. They start at childhood.
I was sitting at the table. Adults filtered in around and sat beside me, across from me and several chairs away. The table was filled with food and the the people sitting round it would soon be, as well.
These were not my friends with whom we dined. These were friends of my parents and there were many. At least twelve people sat at the table and each was filled with complements for the varying dishes that varying friends had brought along. There was Lori's dressing, Marie's stuffing, Bill's cranberry sauce, Kathy's candied yams, Rosie's flan, Mom's turkey, mash potatoes and gravy, Angie's green bean casserole and several other traditional Thanksgiving dishes. It all looked so delicious. Everyone said so.
We all got to eating. I had a couple slices of turkey breast, a couple dollops of mashed potatoes and a glass of milk. It was all I wanted.
"Hey, H. Dean," someone called. Yes, they called me H. Dean as a child. "You didn't have any stuffing," Marie said.
I kindly informed her that I do not like stuffing.
She kindly replied back, "That's because you haven't had my stuffing."
"At least try it," she said. My mother chimed in with the same command and in an instant there was an unwanted, unwelcome dollop of stuffing on my plate.
A few moments alter there were other comments. Bill noticed I didn't have any cranberry sauce on my plate.
"I don't like cranberry sauce," I told him.
"That's because you haven't tried my cranberry sauce," he said. "Just try some." Mom agreed. Dollop on my plate.
In short order I had a plate full of shit I didn't like. Candied yams, flan, green bean casserole and other hideous things filled my plate. I hated it all.
Then came the wonderful surprised exclamation from my mother some half hour later. "Why, H. Dean, you've hardly touched your food."
Unfortunately, no matter how I tried, I was forced to eat the lumps of horrible tasting foods whether I liked it or not. Then, to add insult to injury, my parents had me help them clean the dishes afterwards while being told me how upset they were at my behavior - at how I insulted Bill, Marie and the rest when I reacted negatively to their food.
To be sure, I was angry as they. My arguments went nowhere and I was stuck with the same repetitive Thanksgiving horror every year until I was about sixteen. At that point I refused to give in to the 'You'll like mine' crowd. I merely reminded them that I didn't like it last year or the year before or the year before that. "Did you add a new ingredient?" Of course they had not. "Then why would I like it better now than last year?" They were annoyed but they shut up and I didn't have to eat their vile concoction.
I'm having a tri-tip for Thanksgiving. It will be cooked in my smoker over hickory and apple wood. I will cook it for about four hours. It will be rare. It will be juicy. It will not have cranberries, yams or flan. I will not eat green bean casserole and I will not eat anything I dislike.
If you are visiting me and if you bring a dish over to my house I will thank you. But if I tell you I don't like a particular dish...if I say I do not like the main ingredient in your dish...choose your next words wisely. I am six feet four inches tall, fast, armed with WMD, suffer from post traumatic thanksgiving syndrome and I hate the phrase "That's because you haven't tried my (whatever)."
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
November 1, 2011
Stupid Characters
Been writing a new story. Well, it's not really new, It's been in the works for the last month. The tale originally went one direction and then the damned characters wouldn't cooperate. The tale changed directions, I made out a new story outline and then the characters changed the story's direction again. Now, the characters in question are female and have a terrible sense of direction because they steered the story into a damned cul-de-sac.
Women!
Women!
October 31, 2011
Reviews
I recently received a review for two of my stories. This is something that is always quite welcome and I want my readers to know how much I appreciate such things. Thus, I you can count on my response to any review offered, good or bad. My one request is that you be constructive with your criticism. I want to know my failures and my successes. The only way I can improve is with such comments. So please offer more than a "This story sucks" or "Great story".
For that matter, should I read an author's story here I will offer a review. Though I do tend to avoid stories by authors who write a similar genre to my own. Also, if you want a review, please ask me. I will gladly read you story (given time) and will always offer constructive reviews whether I like the story or not.
H Dean
For that matter, should I read an author's story here I will offer a review. Though I do tend to avoid stories by authors who write a similar genre to my own. Also, if you want a review, please ask me. I will gladly read you story (given time) and will always offer constructive reviews whether I like the story or not.
H Dean
October 27, 2011
Cheers
"Let's have a cheers"
I heard it on some show the other night. I heard it another show a few days prior to that. It's this sort of thing that makes me want to throw my television in the fucking dumpster.
Has it really come to this that people don't know that they want to have a toast? Are people really that fucking stupid?
For those too stupid not to say "Let's cheers" I suggest you look up the word "cheers" and then look up the word "toast". And if any of you ask me to have a "cheers" with you please don't be upset when I beat you about the head and body with a bottle of wine.
I heard it on some show the other night. I heard it another show a few days prior to that. It's this sort of thing that makes me want to throw my television in the fucking dumpster.
Has it really come to this that people don't know that they want to have a toast? Are people really that fucking stupid?
For those too stupid not to say "Let's cheers" I suggest you look up the word "cheers" and then look up the word "toast". And if any of you ask me to have a "cheers" with you please don't be upset when I beat you about the head and body with a bottle of wine.
October 14, 2011
An Advert Whilst I think of something clever to write
Anyone curious about my writings - before wishing to pay for the few stories I've published with BDSM Books: http://www.bdsm-e-books.com/store/h-d... should check out my personal asstr page at: http://www.asstr.org/~H_Dean/
Beware, this is not for the feint of heart. Most of my stories tend to be rather graphic and, while erotic, do not reflect standard BDSM Romance. So, have at it if you can take over the top erotica.
Beware, this is not for the feint of heart. Most of my stories tend to be rather graphic and, while erotic, do not reflect standard BDSM Romance. So, have at it if you can take over the top erotica.
