Day 3: Hello Lover

This blog is still in its infancy and already my mind has been more on writing than it's been in a very long time.  I'm loving it.  It's like we're dating, or rather, back together again, me and Writing, and I find myself anxious to be together during the day.  So much that I'm typing this from work (shhh).  So here I sit in the back of the classroom on my lunch break, stealing some minutes with my ever-returning old flame.   

I've been working on a new short story, and being that I work with kids, my days are often spattered with inspiration for this particular story, if only for character development.  In fact, it was recent observations about a couple of kids that inspired the story idea to begin with.  These observations coupled with my fascination with the human brain are working together to cultivate a dark little story fed daily by certain behaviors, sneaky little moves that only happen when the teacher isn't watching.  Luckily for the teacher who isn't watching, kids are fairly predictable and what's the saying?  I've got eyes in the back of my head; reflective surfaces also work quite well.  The psyche is a strange creature, and one with multiple personalities, I believe.  If you give any credit to Freud, we've all got a primitive, self-centered pleasure seeker constantly at odds with both a realistic impulse controller, the authority on the socially acceptable, and a model good guy, the moral compass and keeper of standards.  How can something we're all born with go in such radically different directions?  How can one child bully in his grade school years, then grow up to be a successful businessman and beloved father, while another does the same thing and ends up imprisoned for heinous acts of torture?  Fascinating.

Did I mention how anxious I am for the new season of Dexter (Showtime) to start already?  This show has a fascinating subject matter, and exists because of writers who have the ability to create a monster with whom the viewer actually roots for.  Sorry about your screwed up life, Mr. Serial Killer - why don't you go ahead and chop that guy up; it'll make you feel better.  Sounds sick, I'm aware, but the kind of writing that can actually cause a person of arguably sound mind and character to pull for the immoral monster in the middle is damn good, and certainly has my respect.

So is my central character another Dexter?  Not exactly, but he may run in similar circles.  We'll see how it evolves.

(Seriously, as much as I may momentarily agonize over not knowing what to write about, I feel fantastic when I'm done.  It's kind of like I just had a secret rendezvous and I'm still buzzing from the contact.)