Fear, focus, and the future. Here, C.M. Humphries writes about whatever.
I just thought it would be useful to update my writing style according to 750words.com. More to come tomorrow.
Overall, it seems that I finding myself a little less self-important, which may be due to my Spanish classes or other recent events. However, you might notice that I am getting more positive. That seems weird for me to even care about being happy/optimistic, but I find it very important that I learn to show my optimism than to just think about hope. Have no doubt, though, that I am still sarcastic and cynical. And according to the charts, I am angry as well. Maybe this is the kind of angry that wants light a fire under someone's ass, so to speak. Maybe I want to burn down the world just so I can save. Or maybe I am just anxious to continue working on Excluded so you guys can all read the novel. Finally.
I believe the next two charts can speak for themselves. I would like to mention, though, how my concerns have become less about death. Now the anaylzing system used for these charts has its limitations. If I use words that relate to death, or the word death itself, it things I am worried about death. For instance, this explanation would read as me being worried about death. However, happier words reflect mentality as well as other emotions.
My point: Should a horror writer be losing concern for death? Something worries me there. Have no fear. I will continue to scare you. Or rather, I like to just interest you, the reader. If you escape into one of my novels, I consider that an accomplishment on my party. I am not here to revolutionize the world. But as long as I am still writing, that will probably happen naturally. "I will trend-send and mentality bend you." (Name the quote without Googling it.)
No, this certainly isn't about the recent box-office hit, featuring Michael Cera. And by the way, even if you despise Mr. Cera, you might want to check out this flick. It's quite amusing and unique. Definitely worthy of its three stars, but none more. Originality's only two-thirds of the battle.
Mailman at the door--hold on!
Weird. My apartment has this slot in the wall for mail to come in, which in nature is very 1970s. Every time he slips mail through the slot, I jump out of my uncomfortable hotel-furniture chair out of fear for my life. But no, no one is breaking in. Not in the slightest. Just slipping mail into my home. He could probably break in this way. I should leave out the details before anyone with ill-will reads this. My buddy Mr. Wildwig wonders if you can piss in my house. For the record, you can't. Halfway through, I've installed a hacksaw.
Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, myself versus the world.
I've been trying to keep up with 750words.com (I'm failing) and recently I've discovered some interesting stats about my own writing. It takes your writing, breaks it down, and tells you your state of mind, reused words, etc.
For this blog, my interest is my emotional state of mind. It takes your emotions and compares them to that of the world. So according to 750words.com, the following are my emotions compared to several other thousand people:
I could have told you this, but apparently I am more affectionate that the rest of the world. Hear that ladies? I'm an affection straight male, also know as a demon. Sorry, though, I'm taken and happy with it.
Okay, I'm a little egotistical. I mean, that's a gimme, right. You're visiting C.M. HUMPHRIES.COM right now. Go figure.
Weird, their happiness colors remind me of McDonald's fires. I mean, fries. Although if McDonald's sold fires . . .
Anyway, I digress. I think this system is bogus. Do I really seem so unhappy?
Ha, at least I'm not that anxious. Wait, is being anxious a good thing? Does that mean I have nothing to look forward to? Huh?
This isn't so bad. Unless they are saying that I voice my opinions and emotions too much like a prepubescent, heart-broken girl. Then they are assholes. I'm a happy guy.
Just because I write horror doesn't mean I hate the world.
Oh, Jesus-titty-fucking-Christ! I AM NOT A DEBBIE DOWNER. Seriously, which bar is really mine? Someone please comment on this blog and tell me that I am not such a little bitch.
Do you see that? My bar could eat the world's bar. Are they really trying to tell me, based on the sort of stories I write, that I am at 25% (or whatever the fuck percent that is) sadder than the entire fucking world? Next thing they're gonna tell me is that I curse more than the entire world too. Mother fuckers.
Okay now . . .
According to this, I cuss way more than I get laid.
You know what, to hell with this blog.
(To the guys and girls from 750.words: You know I'm just clownin', dawg.)
Fear, focus, and the future. C.M. Humphries talks about writing, horror, and whatever.