Bad Shakespeare Takes Ireland: School's Out for Summer

The really weird thing about traveling somewhere… anywhere… is that when you first arrive, it’s not only filled with possibilities, but there is that one moment of dread. I don’t mean it lasts forever, but whenever I get off the plane one of my first thoughts is “Wow. I’m going to be here for X amount of time. (This is usually filled with an amount of time.) How will I make it the whole time? Did I bring enough stuff?” It happens when I go away for three days, and it certainly has happened on this trip, when I went away to Ireland for a month.

Now, the feeling never lasts long. Like I said, it’s quickly replaced with “hey, here’s a fun new thing to do! Let’s go do it!” And then I run off, usually until I remember that I should probably pick up my bags from customs. Fun times. 

Then there’s the reverse feeling, and it hits about this time. Ladies and/or Gentlemen… I only have about five days left here in Ireland. Less, actually. And I can’t believe the time has gone by so quickly. As I type this, we’re all sitting around, waiting for the breakfast room to open so we can go eat before our final class. When class is over… well, we’ll probably all go to a bar or something, but at some point tonight we’ll pack up our stuff for a second to final time, and then tomorrow WAY to early - not that I’d complain or question the wonderfulness of Professor Lister, who hasn’t graded us yet - and head off to Dublin for our final adventures, which includes the Writer’s Museum, the Yeats Exhibit, and the Jameson factory!

Quick note: The Jameson factor may not be a school sponsored trip, but I believe most people are going, and I’ve unofficially named myself the teacher on that particular leg of the trip. I’ve not yet informed Doc Lister of this. 

This trip is primarily a school trip, which means that most of our time was spent inside a classroom. That always adds a layer of routine to the trip, which I think is important. Once you have a routine somewhere, it makes it real, it makes it more like you live there, rather than just visiting. We get up. We go to breakfast. (which is nice since it’s free, but not as nice as when we were in Kulmurvey house) then we go to class.

At this point, I’ve spent my time writing two pieces, one the 26 page start of a novel called “Mars Kaplan Saves The World” which is a reworking of Mars and Kaplan Save the world, whereupon I threw out all of the characters and a good chunk of the plot for what I used in Nanowrimo. And I’ve written a memoir piece. Since it’s a workshop, the 9 other people in the class have done the same thing, which means I’ve also READ a bunch of pieces from people, including the fastest 30 pages I’ve ever read on a piece that was so good, I almost ate it out of sheer jealousy at this writer’s talent. 

I throw this in because I have been active on Instagram and Twitter, posting pictures of all of our fun, so it can get lost that we came here to hone our skills as writers. We did this as a legit class, trying to better ourselves as we would in any other class. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the pubs or music festivals, but yes, we are working hard. And today marks a great achievement. We’ve done over 90 hours of class at this point. Today is the final moment, the time when we can relax, and fully enjoy the few final days in Ireland…

It’s been a good trip. I’ve made some connections that I didn’t think I’d make, quite frankly. There’s one Graduate Student on this trip. Guess who? Guess how easy it would have been for me to essentially spend a month alone, but no one let that happened. And I don’t know if I can let anyone know how grateful I am that happened. 

So, that’s way too much smarm for this early in the morning. Let’s head off to class, and then, to whatever Dublin has to hold for us! I’ll post a proper goodbye to Doolin… especially the Doolin Donkey… later. I just can't believe it's almost over. 

Bad Shakespeare Takes Ireland: How We Write

I suppose I should talk a little bit about why I’m here in Ireland, other than to grace it’s fine drinking establishments and historic sites with my presence, thus giving important context to future historians about why I wrote about it so much in my future memoirs. (They’ll want to know a lot about me during this transitional time before I’ve taken over the world.)

I’m here for a writing program. A Creative Writing Program. You see, back when I was beautiful, I wanted to be a writer. Unlike my other plans that fell through when I was no longer beautiful (and achieved true gorgeousness) I still want to be a writer. It’s one of the reasons why I started this blog, and why I keep trying and failing to do NANOWRIMO, and why I watch so much Cartoon Network. That last one may be unrelated, but I’m going to go with it because this is my Blog, and if you want to make up silly reasons you should have your own blog.

The program is run by Lisa Lister, who’s beauty and intelligence is matched by the fact that she has not yet given me a grade for the class, because it’s not done just yet. The people in the class are busy writing away, fiction pieces and memoirs. It’s also run by Irene Graham, who I’m pretty sure knows just about everyone not just in Ireland, but planet Earth, as she keeps dropping nuggets about meeting people like “Tom Cruise” and “U2” but only back when they were in their Joshua Tree Days. I half expect a folksy tale from her about meeting a young man named Barry O’Bama, and that she just knew one day he’d be going far.

The past two weeks focused heavily on story development, something Michael Bay refers to as “what?” This week has kicked into high gear as we have started turning in work. Because, I’m so handsome and wonderful (and I signed up last) I decided to go first in my fiction piece, a reworking of something I tried to do for Nanowrimo which is now entitled Mars Kaplan Saves the World, and is about that, Mars Kaplan. Saving the World. It’s about 8000 words long so far. Some of them are pretty good words. 

Now, what comes with turning in the work is the workshop, whereupon everyone will read your beloved first draft, and let you know what needs to be fixed.

I think of it like a home inspection for a house. When you get a home inspection for a house, the house itself could be carved from granite, brought up to code, and even have some features installed that don’t yet exist, like replicators and transporters. but the guy doing the inspection is going to look at that one light switch that doesn’t turn anything on because it’s secretly hooked up to a garage door in Japan, and let you know how the entire house could, hypothetically burn down if there manages to be a Godzilla attack at the same time a Cloverfield Monster is attacking America, and you flip that switch. 

Workshopping is a little like that.

Your readers (all good) will hold a mirror up to you work, in which you’ve held up a mirror to society, (which is a lot of mirrors) and tell you why it’s great for about twenty minutes. Just as your ego hits that apex that means you’ll not be walking out the door so much as buttering up your inflated head to slide it out the door, they start in on what “needs work.”

The thing is, as much as you can joke that the “needs work” is difficult to hear, it’s the most important part of any workshop. Any good reader (and this class is full of some fantastically wonderful readers. And they don’t read my blog, nor do they grade me, so this isn’t just sucking up, this is pretty genuine. Imagine that from a blog that’s mostly about robots) will tell you what doesn’t work, because they WANT SO DESPERATELY for your piece to work. They want you to go out, write the next great American Novel. Only a jerk will try to get you to write the next great Canadian Novel. (And there are no jerks in this group. Except that one cat who joined us for a little bit. Scam Artist.)

I did survive my first round of Workshopping. I got some great feedback, mostly in the “hey, double check your grammar, dude” type way, which is important, because I’m pretty terrible at double checking my own grammar, as anyone who reads this blog knows. I’m pretty good at double checking Kelsey Grammer, who is a beloved actor but has very little to do with writing. They also had some great story notes, which is a reminder to make things universally beloved, like Kelsey Grammer, instead of just Michaelly Loved, which is also like Kelsey Grammer. I guess he does have something to do with Writing.

Anyway, the experience is wonderful. I’m looking forward to the next week and a half (is that all I have left… that’s a LOT of pubs… I mean, writing institutions… to hit up before the end of the day) as the rest of my time here unfolds. I’m looking forward to further developing my writing, which is why I’m here.

Bad Shakespeare Takes Ireland: Writing in Galway

So far, we’ve experienced all the many different weather patterns that Ireland has to offer. From gray and rainy to sunny and all the way back to rainy again. It’s like a cycle that keeps repeating. yesterday was nothing short of incredible, particularly with how warm it got… people were actually laying out in the sun! I didn’t think they did that in Ireland so much as it was a joke that we all are supposed to just hang out in bars. 

The writing program is interesting. It’s definitely not what I expected. I mean that in the best possible way, mind, you we’re busy learning different ways to access our writing, and figure out which characters we’re writing for. It’s certainly unlocked something more in me as a writer. I’m starting to figure out more about what I’m trying to say. It’s more like when I was younger, and I used to write all the time. It’s made me a lot braver.

For instance, one of the characters in my book is a man trapped in the body of a cat who works in middle management. Well, the cat works in middle management now that he has the brain of a cat. Before, I don’t know I would have been brave enough to lead off with that character, particularly because he is such a unique character, and one of my wackier inventions. But for some reason, I felt very comfortable talking about him, naming him, and putting him on paper and announcing it to the class. I like that idea. 

We are also accessing our ideas more through different kinds of art, like drawing. When was the last time you just sat down and drew? And you’re not an artist (like my mother.) A lot is taking me back a little bit. I guess the whole thing is like that one quote I like “To be successful you must be as serious as a child at play.” Writing is a lot like play acting, you get to play pretend and create new worlds. Pretend you’re a scientist or a knight fighting evil demons or something like that. 

Other than that right now, Ireland is Ireland. It’s amazingly beautiful. As I’v said before, we’re right by the beach, so I’ve been taking full advantage of heading down there when I can to sit and write. Galway is pretty amazing, full of cute little shops that are just too much fun to walk through. 

It’s been an experience, and it’s only been three days. Looking forward to a lot more.

Bad Shakespeare Takes Ireland: Reflections of Galway

When I left for this trip, I was very aware that it was going to be different than my time in London. Firstly, my time in London was a very specific time and place… nothing could duplicate it. Secondly, the programs are different. Theatre is reflective, but is very much a focus on a visual narrative, and how we react to it. And it’s very clear I won’t have that guide while in Ireland, I’m going to have to find that for myself.

The place we are located is near Galway Bay, so there’s a tiny beach near our apartment. And yes, we have a whole apartment this time, which is nicer than the shoebox in London. Of course, that’s very much because this is Ireland and that was London, and while nice London is on those list of cities where it would probably be better if you paid in gold bars instead of actual cash. So, we have this nicish apartment where any of the appliances might fail at literally any minute, and none of us are still sure how to use the washing machine. But it’s there if we want it!

Galway is a nice city. It’s small, while at the same time feeling huge. Part of that may be because I haven’t quite gotten my bearings just yet, which means just one wrong turn and I don’t really know where I’m going. But that’s part of any travel experience, even the smallest cities seem huge until you are ready and adjusted. Then even someplace like London feels like home. This place is already settling in to be like home. There’s a bar that I’ve found that I really enjoy. We have a grocery store where we’ve stocked up in those products that we need, and then those that are sorta like what we have in America but aren’t quite. (Frosties, anyone? They’re GRRRRRRRRREEEEEAAATT!)

And the people here are amazing. I’ve been here three days, and all three days I’ve managed to strike up a conversation with random strangers that are quick to tell us where to go, what to do, and what we should be seeing. It’s incredible. It’s an amazing feeling. Especially in a place like this that’s not really near a big airport and only accessibly by two hours by car or bus from the major airports, it would be really easy to have a tougher time meeting people. But even yesterday when I got turned around, someone was quick to ask me if I knew where I was going and point me in the right direction. The bar I went to; the owner made me feel like a regular after only a few minutes. 

I’ve always associated Ireland with a type of magic. Maybe its just the fact that it’s an Island, or the fact that I was’t really sure I’d ever get to come here. At least not on a trip like this, where it’s not “run around and see everything.” That’s what I like about this particular trip that’s focusing on my writing, it’s allowing me to be more reflective, it’s allowing me to be able to sit back for a few minutes and think about things a little bit more. It’s a nice feeling.

Overall, so far, I love it here. There’s a feeling to the air that’s a little bit different. It’s hard to describe. It’s just something that I feel as I walk around, or that I even look outside. 

I’m really interested in seeing what else this trip has to bring. Right now we’re only starting.

It's Going to Be Ok

Hey, you.

Yes, you. Who’s currently curled up in a ball with the full body hazmat suit, sitting in your closet slowly waiting for the world to end in either a fiery ball of melty goodness, freezing to death, or intelligent apes.

I’m talking to you.

I wanted to let you know… it’s going to be ok.

Yes, I know that the news seems bad right now. We’ve got diseases that people are so misinformed about they are avoiding restaurants. There are wars. Terrorists. Shootings. Action figures in Toy Stores aimed at adults that might make kids… I don’t know, try pork pie hats? And let’s not forget it’s election season, so if you’re watching any of the attack ads it seems like you have a choice between voting for a the guy who eats babies and the woman who sacrifices bunnies to her evil god. 

But I’m telling you, it’s going to be ok.

It’s easy to get sucked in by the terribleness of it all. After all, the large headline or breaking news isn’t: “Millionaire gives away fortune to fight disease.” It’s: “Panic over Ebola momentarily interrupted by mass shooting.” 

I know I’ve gotten sucked in by all of it, and It’s stressed me out a little bit.  I know it’s affected some of the posts here on Bad Shakespeare, and even some of my interactions with people in my life. Which is why I wanted to take a moment to remind everyone… it’s going to be ok.

I’m not saying there aren’t problems. What I’m saying is that maybe take a few minutes before you start stocking up on tattered leather jackets as you fear we keep moving more and more towards Mad Max Times. It’s not that bad. The Walking Dead is a TV Show, not a sign of future things to come. You probably won’t have to put down your best friend who’s been bitten by a zombie. You won’t have to fight past the massive hoards of people for that last, previous vial of water to help bring about the world. You probably won’t have to live through Waterworld. By that I mean the movie. Seriously, now THAT was a disaster. 

Yes, bad stuff happens. Fortunately, for all the stories where something bad happens, typically it’s followed up with something good. People pulling together to help each other out. It’s not always obvious, because the big story is all about how that thing that happened is going to kill us all, but trust me… there are people there who are willing to help you out.

And yes, there is outrage. Some of it is justified. Some of it can wait until later. Don’t get sucked in by getting angry at literally everything, including things you can’t control. Sometimes, it’s important to let it go, relax, and just focus on the good.

It’s really, really important to focus on the good. For instance…

They are currently working on a 3rd Bill and Ted Movie. That’s right, Keanu Reeves is once again going to return to the role of Ted Theodore Logan, the role he was born to play.

Benedict Cumberbatch is still a thing. 

There are hundreds of books you haven’t read yet. Pick one up. Today. 

Next week starts Nanowrimo, which means on this very blog you’ll be able to read YA High, a satire of Young Adult Novels, on this very website! 

There’s a group of people that dress as superheroes and go visit sick kids in hospitals. They do this with their spare time.

Speaking of sick kids, WWE Superstar John Cena just visited his 400th kid for Make a Wish. 400th. Even though he’s getting too much of a push that’s holding down some of the other talent, that’s amazing. 

The weather is getting colder, which means pumpkin spice stuff is about to go away, and we’re about to be inundated with peppermint stuff. Peppermint. Everyone’s breath will be so fresh.

Here Comes Honey Boo Boo was cancelled, thus raising the bar. I mean, it’s a little late on this, but come on.. it’s a start. 

Bill Murray is still around. Bill. Freakin’. Murray. How can you be sad in a world that features Bill Murray, America’s Drunk Uncle?

Look, I know it can be bad. And I know it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be getting any better, but remember it’s the New’s job not really to bring you hard hitting coverage of what’s going on, but rather to sell ad space. Giant headlines that are basically devolving into “We’re all gonna die” sell better than “Hey, don’t sweat it.” And then their are bloggers, think piece writers, and whatever who’s job it is to make sense of these things, and they don’t always have the best “research” plans. Most of the time it goes back to using the caps lock and making you afraid enough to read their next exciting piece.

So, everyone… relax. Take a few minutes today to sit outside. Go grab some greasy piece of death that you enjoy eating, and eat it. Turn of the television, computer, whatever, and go read a book, play a video game, watch a movie that has nothing to do with the perceived terribleness outside. No matter how bad it gets, remember: we live in a world that has given us a SECOND sequel to Dumb and Dumber. Now, at that point, doesn’t that mean that pretty much anything can happen?

Life is short. Stop sweating it. 

Please Stop Being Afraid of Stupid Stuff

“I like the cover," he said. "Don't Panic. It's the first helpful or intelligible thing anybody's said to me all day.”

-Arthur Dent, Hitchhiker’s Guide To the Galaxy

There’s this book I really like called Tricky Business by Dave Barry. It’s about these criminals on this boat and there’s a heist, and I’m not making this up, it’s hilarious. But there’s a subplot where this boat with the criminals off the coast of Florida is hit by a hurricane. Every once in a while the plot meanders back to a news crew covering this hurricane. At first, they get news that a boy has been struck by lightning. So they send a news crew out, who are promptly killed by the storm. Then another crew is sent out, and they’re killed. This continues until the killer storm has killed only members of this news crew, who have dubbed it a killer storm because they were the only idiots (other than the criminal idiots on the boat) who have been killed by the storm. It’s funnier than I’m making it sound, but I’m making a point.

In case you’ve managed to avoid all television, websites, newspapers (kids, ask your parents) and various people on the street wearing gas masks that aren’t actually huge fans of Breaking Bad, we’re in the midst of a epidemic. It’s an epidemic that has killed at least one in the US, and has infected another. That’s right… it’s Ebola. The disease that is a legitimate threat in West Africa and such movies as Outbreak, but in the US has infected and killed less people than Taylor Swift has dated and written songs about.

Keep in mind, I’m not trying to downplay the very real threat that Ebola is in West Africa, where they don’t have the resources that we do here in America. What I’m trying to point out is… everyone stop with the panic. Please.

This always happens. Something occurs, and then people lose their minds over panic, despite the fact that in order to get Ebola, you’d need to have constant contact with the bodily fluids of someone already showing symptoms, and it can be cured by such things as “washing.” But before this, it was respiratory virus that everyone has forgotten about because they’re busy saying we need to block all flights and seal off all our borders because three hospitals have mistaken the flu for Ebola. Which isn’t a death sentence.

This is the second post I’ve written about it, but today I want to focus on something a lot more deadly than a disease that isn’t airborne and might spread as far as Texas: fear. We live in a culture of fear, and it’s going to have to stop. Mostly with idiots panicking over nothing.

I try to be polite a lot of the time, but I’m going to say it here: idiots. Panicking over nothing. 

For me it really hit home when people were protesting the doctors who were diagnosed with Ebola after going over to West Africa to help people. They were brought back to the US, where we have the resources to help these brave people, but some people that couldn’t be bothered to get off the couch for any good reason, decided to start the panic train.

Everyone… calm down. Good Old Bad Shakespeare is here to tell you that it’s all going to be ok. And if you’re worried that it’s not going to be ok, just know this: It’s going to be ok. How do I know this? Because it is.

We need to stop being afraid of stupid stuff. Giant headlines that proclaim our doom, only to not come into fruition, then they’re replaced with bigger headlines that once again… proclaim our doom. We need to stop turning to the loudest screaming heads or “experts” that know nothing. Yes, I’m aware of the irony that I’m writing this what with all my knowledge of Ebola coming from research and not my degree in English with a concentration in Theatre. But hey, if CNN can get a sci-fi novelist as their “Ebola Expert” then why not me?

There are so many other things that people can concentrate on right now that doesn’t involve a disease that’s largely contained and if you manage to defy all odds and actually get, you’re probably not going to die. In fact, I’d recommend if you do manage to get it while at home, watching the screaming heads proclaim our latest doom, take a few minutes to buy a lottery ticket.

Some fear can be good. The fear of that dark cave helped our ancestors eventually discover if they took this fiery substance into it, it would be warm and bright. Fear of dying alone eventually invented match.com, so that’s not entirely bad. Fear of not knowing who the best Star Trek Captain was (it was Sisko) invented the internet, which in turn allows me to publish my completely unqualified opinions.

But some fear is bad. Fear that’s used to sell you crap you don’t need, or fear that is being used to generate website clicks or sell newspapers for something other than making pirate hats and then annexing Jerome’s cubical in a spectacular coup. That was a fun day. But you can’t walk around afraid because some website decided they were going to make their top story about a “possible” case of some disease that later turns out to be false, they just publish that story smaller. 

Stop being afraid of things that don’t matter. Stop being afraid of things that aren’t really that scary. Relax. Go be afraid of things that really might kill you like cats, or dark wizards. Never underestimate when the Dark Wizards are finally going to make their move. I can see them now… plotting…

        

Writer's Block is really Something Something Something...

Some of my loyal readers may have noticed that posting here at Bad Shakespeare has been a bit… spotty lately. Disloyal readers may not have noticed anything, and can come back when I talk about their favorite topics, which may not be this particular post. I normally try to keep to a Monday/Wednesday/Friday type posting for the main reason that why not. Posting here lets me write pretty much whatever I want whenever i want to post it, and it allows me to stretch my writing muscles which should be stretched.

This of  course, doesn’t include my weeklong tribute to all things Summer Movie Season, but that was being written during the entire summer. Movies I liked would get the top spot (like Lucy… I loved Lucy but it didn’t fit in my criteria) or movies would crush my soul. Like Transformers. In fact, most of it was written to the point that when I made my favorites post, I really just had to do one tweak, and that was switching Begin Again and Guardians of the Galaxy, trying to decide which one I liked more, and ultimately Begin Again lost because of it’s lack of wisecracking CGI animals. 

That’s neither here nor there. I’ve tried to blame my lack of posting on school, my usual awesomeness, or the lack of wisecracking CGI Animals in my life, but it’s been more sinister than that. My main problem lately has been crippling, horrible, writer’s block. And I’ve had writer’s block in the past. I’ve even talked about writer’s block in some past posts, and that usually it just took some time away, but this time has been bad. Like, so bad it was difficult for me to read, because I was unable to keep the characters straight in my head. 

Yeah. That bad.

I’d sit down and face off against the blank paper. We’d spar for a few minutes, where I’d come up with some witty, hilarious line. Then I’d spin something off of that. Then doubt would sneak in, and let me know that everything I wrote was pure weapons grade craptonium, and that shouldn’t be posting, and does it really matter because only about 12 people actually read this blog anyway.

I tried to argue it’s 13, because I was under the impression that readers come in baker’s dozens, but Doubt didn’t care. Doubt is as mean as it is sneaky, trying to wrestle control of my thoughts. Then I’d eek out a few jokes about something, and I’d delete it, and hope that no one noticed that there was no Bad Shakespeare fo the day. 

Writer’s Block is tricky as it is cruel. You see, I don’t like to write heavy, dramatic pieces on this blog. I will, but I generally try to keep it light. If you want to read heavy, dramatic pieces, just Google, “The News” and chances are (once you get past the part about what Huey Lewis’s band is up to nowadays) you’ll get something nice and heavy. It kind of sucks out there nowadays, and people don’t make it easy to lighten anything up, because again I don’t know if you noticed, but people do their best to make things worse.

Let’s take for instance, something that should have been light and a pretty much a puff piece for any day of the week: Apple introduced a new iPhone, pretty much like it has every year since 2007 (in fact the one year it decided to wait a few extra months most of the news stories were “Where is the new iPhone?”) and a new wearable piece of technology that’s pretty much a watch but with the ability to do more than tell time. (but still can’t send you back in time, or order a pizza to your direct location with telepathy. WHERE ARE THE FEATURES WE WANT, APPLE?) 

People tended to go into two camps with this. On the one hand, there were people that looked at the space-aged Star Trek Technology and said, “pretty cool.” Then there were the others who felt that if you purchased this particular piece of equipment, you were king of the idiots and THEIR phone was so much better and somehow anyone else purchasing a damn phone somehow made their decisions less important in life. It’s a phone, everyone. If you want one, buy it. If you don’t, then don’t buy it. If someone is forcing you, at gunpoint, to purchase it, go call the police.

I don’t know why, but things like this have been affecting me lately, and it’s been harder to write and be happy as I watch and pay attention to this, and it gets me down a little bit. I’ve tried ignoring it, but even if you go watch funny cat videos, it’s soon inundated with people claiming that dogs are better.

It’s just been difficult for me to get past that lately. I know I shouldn’t let it bother me, it just has.

Of course, then you’re in a death spiral, because you’re already kinda bummed, then you start to wonder if you were ever really that good, you go back and read your earlier stuff from before you matured as a writer, then you start to wonder even MORE if you suck, then that blank page gets scarier and scarier, and you just don’t post anything.

I’m trying to work past that now by pretty much typing whatever comes into my head, and trying to push past this crippling writer’s block. (Hence the two paragraph segue about people who are way to invested in a phone, and have become jaded about something even the James Bond writer’s didn’t think about. THE HEIGHT OF HIS PHONE TECHNOLOGY WAS IN HIS CAR, PEOPLE!) 

I’m hoping on posting more. I originally thought of cutting back because of school, but that’s not really the answer… it’s a retreat. I enjoy writing Bad Shakespeare, and I enjoy trying to be funny. But this little bout with writer’s block is really bad. It’s dried up everything in my mind right now. And it really needs to be gone, since I’m an English Major and 90% of what I do is write. The other 90% is reading. (You read that right. They’re both 90%. Some people feel a need to correct things that are clearly jokes.)

The thing with Writer’s Block is that the more and more you try to get rid of it, the harder and harder it holds on. You can’t escape it, like so many dinosaurs in a special zoo that is supposed to be safe but really isn’t once things go haywire. And then you try to get to the helicopter, but then you’re surrounded by Velociraptors and it’s not until the T-Rex shows up that you’re really safe. 

Sorry. Went really Jurassic Park there for a minute.

In any event, the best way through all of this is straight forward, and to post stuff that makes me laugh, and not really sweat the small stuff. And it’s what I’m going to keep doing. Because eventually, I hope to be writing for a living, and I can’t let something like a little Writer’s Block stop be from becoming the next big thing. 

Why We Write

I couldn't find a good picture, so here's Moe attacking Neil Gaiman

Recently, a website that I frequent had an intriguing headline. “The Bleak State of American Fiction” the headline on the A.V. Club boldly declared, as part of their “For your Consideration” series. For those who don’t want to read the website, the “For Your Consideration” pieces are basically essays that talk about some idea in pop culture that the writer wishes to discuss, like the trajectory of Kevin Spacey’s career. No. Really.

Naturally, I was intrigued by this headline, despite being burned in the past with some of these “For Your Consideration” pieces. While the A.V. Club has been an enjoyable website in the past, sometimes the pieces can lean a little bit towards... let’s just say the “hipster.” Basically if you’ve heard of it, it’s going to suck, according to them. If you haven’t, then it’s going to rock. And if you haven’t heard of it, but are starting to, then they’re going to sell out and you’re totally going to hate it again.

Oh, and they really hate Family Guy creator/singer/director/Oscar Hoster Seth MacFarlane. Like... a lot. I’m all for reviews, but at times they just seem mean.

The article about the “Bleak State of American Fiction” turned out to be little more than a stealth review of MFA vs. NYC, a collection of essays about how being a writer sucks. (That’s what I took away from it.) The book (and in a way, the writer of this essay) ask the question “writers write. But what do they do for money?” And then basically the writer sums up the book as saying there are only a few avenues to really get published these days, they all suck, and anyone looking to get into writing should probably pick out which cramped little hovel they want to live in as they’re fed peanuts to churn out what they want.

It’s a bleak stealth review of a bleak collection of essays. 

Also, quick side note: I’m not sure why they didn’t just review the book, but it may have cut into the two books they’re lucky to review a week as well as their allotted weekly MacFarlane-bashing.

The thing is, the essay ignores the fact that it’s never been easier to get published than today. Advances in digital media allow blah, blah, blah. I started writing that sentence and I realized just how much it’s been said. You can publish anything you want on Kindle, even fan fiction. Even steamy, erotic fan fiction based on a young adult book known for how chaste and anti-sex it is then it gets picked up by a major publisher and turned into a series of three books, then a movie. Even this blog wouldn’t have been possible a few years ago, but here I am, publishing on the web. It’s quite the glamorous setup I have here. And I’m grateful for all my readers, although I’m not exactly at Stephen King levels of readers just yet (maybe the early years) but my fan base is growing and I’m going to continue to post until it’s no longer feasible, or at least until my Supernatural/Gilmore Girls mashup fan fiction gets picked up by a major distributer. 

Fingers crossed!

Writers write because we have stories to tell. Writers write because we can’t imagine a world where we’re not putting words on paper, even if they don’t make sense, or we’re just trying to justify how a movie with a talking snowman somehow secretly tells kids how to worship the devil. (Leave. Frozen. Alone. Crazy. People. That’s another post. One I already wrote, but I feel like I need to re-write, because people are still crazy.)

Truth is, I’d write this blog even if I had just one reader, because in my soul I’m a writer, and that’s what I do. I’m going to continue to write out stories, even if they don’t get published, because that’s what I want to do: write my stuff. And I’ll continue to make fun of Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey because one is a book series about an abusive relationship, and the other is the porn version of that abusive relationship for people that don’t want to feel like they’re reading porn.

I dislike essays like the one I read on the A.V. Club. It’s the anti-writing essay, which is ironic since that essay is in fact, being written by a paid writer for a pretty well known website (As seen on the Simpsons.) But it seems to push people away from the simple act of trying to become a writer. I may never get paid for a word I write. But does that take away my need to write? Does that take away from the words I’m writing right now? Does that take away from my almost pathological need to post at least three pieces of writing a week?

I may never be famous for my writing. (I still think I will be. I’m on this side of the dirt, there’s still time.) But I’m going to keep doing. And I would encourage people to ignore the essays, written by paid writers, and continue to write. Hell, write even if it’s bad, because why not? You enjoy it. And you never know, one day you may end up hitting that deal if the right person reads your stuff. Also, you may not, but it allows you to work on that Supernatural/Gilmore Girls mashup fan fiction to your hearts content.

This is the Story of a Blogger that Wanted to be More of a Writer...

the time of this post, it is October 1st. Normally I do them a week in advance, but I was all thrown off by wanting to get my Breaking Bad finale analysis up in a fair amount of time. We may discuss it more in the future, but at this point I think it’s time to just let Breaking Bad rest and marinate with it’s audience. I stand on my statement that it’s like fine Shakespeare... extremely satisfying to see the bad guys end up in chalk (thanks for the phrasing, Thug Notes!) a little difficult to think about the destruction that reigned down, but right now I need time to think about it more. I plan on writing up a lot more about it down the road, when I have time to really watch it as a whole story.

Here’s the thing about Breaking Bad... it inspires me. Not to get a porkpie hat and start cooking up an illegal drug (ok... maybe the porkpie hat. I think that would make me look too awesome.) but to write. I also feel that way about Arrested Development. Both are finely crafted shows about people who’s behavior is kind of despicable. Both focus on the importance of family. Both use foreshadowing, flashbacks, and symbolism to tell it’s tale. Both feature a bald man who’s intentions are very ambiguous... but that’s all besides the point, this is a post about inspiration and doing something with it, not how Breaking Bad is like Arrested Development, only one goes the comedy route, the other dark tragedy, much like A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a parody of a Shakespearean play, down to including a funny version of Romeo and Juliet at the end, then having one of the main characters directly address the audience. 

Moving on.

As you can probably tell from this blog, I enjoy writing. I enjoy coming up with little worlds. I made a promise to myself at the start of the year, this would be the year that I finish a novel. As some long time readers may recall, last year, I attempted to take part in NANOWRIMO... the way the hip kids talk about National Novel Writing Month. Unfortunately, my plans got derailed at the start of the month because sometimes plans get derailed it happens. But I thought about it, and I really regret not finishing what I started.

So, this is to announce that in one month, Bad Shakespeare is going to go dark with zero new posts about the topics I love: Teaching, Education, Science Fiction, Literature, New Books, Breaking Bad, Arrested Development (I’m really going to have to write up that post now)... no new posts. If you recall last year the plan was to report at the end of each month the progress made and what I where I was going, while posting bits and pieces. Of it. I won’t be doing that this year.

This year, I’m going to be posting my 1500 words a day live, to Bad Shakespeare, as I write. That may mean that it’s not going to be the best novel, and some of it may involve going back to doing rewrites, but it also means exposing the innermost workings of my imaginary world to you. Which also means about 30 new posts for the month of November. I’m toying with the idea of changing the name for the time being, briefly, to the title of whatever I’m working on. 

Why announce it? And why announce it now? I’m announcing it now because it’s a month away... I need to prepare. And I’m announcing it here to keep myself accountable. Back when I was beautiful, I had a dream. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to write a novel. Not even a the Great American Novel (but not as low as the Great Canadian Novel) but one that entertained people. And I let a lot get  in the way of that. So, no more. I talk a lot about carpe diem, grabbing life by the throat and doing something... so now I’m going to do something about it. Let’s do this thing.

In the meantime, I hope to bring you all of the regular posts I usually do, with maybe a little information about what I’m planning to write. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to email shakespearebad@gmail.com with them. Or post it directly to my Facebook page. (and like it. If I get four more likes, I win a free toaster. I think.) 

In the meantime, I need to start working on my Breaking Bad/Arrested Development crossover fan fiction...

On Losing Contests, Kevin Spacey, and My Marxist Views

So this whole writing a lot is kind of new to me.
   
    Well, not the writing-writing part. I’ve always loved writing but I’ve been a bit shy about showing it to anyone. (Note that this is probably the last time that I will ever write the words “shy” and “I” in a sentence.) Writing things for me has always been easy. I’ve forgotten more stories I “meant to write down” then I’ve probably ever read. But putting myself out there has always been difficult. I find what I write amusing. And compelling. And kind of handsome. So when I do put myself out there, I’m really putting myself out there.

    As you know, I recently entered a Washington Post humor writing contest. Well, I can now officially say that I entered a Washington Post humor writing contest... and failed. I did not win. Actually I probably could have said that a few weeks ago, but I was holding on to every sliver of hope that any minute they’d say, “surprise!” But alas it was not meant to be.

    My brain has been a wild rush of emotions. Yes, it was a small contest, but it was kind of a big deal. I mean, I put on an air of bravado, but I really am guarded when it comes to my writing. I write my thoughts, but not ALL my thoughts. At some point if I did that I would be Kevin Spacey in Seven. I also don’t share all of my writing here on this blog. I fell that the blogger-bloggee relationship needs to have some air of mystery.

    The thing is, I feel kind of good about it. I mean, not in my glib Marxist view. By “Marxist” I of course mean Groucho Marx’s famed line, “I don’t want to be a part of any club that would have me as a member. Which Marx did you think I was talking about? I lost the contest. But, I entered a contest to lose. I don’t know I would have done that had I not started this blog.

    Of course, now it’s time to start moving on. This contest is done, now it’s time to find another one. And another. And another, until I’m good enough to win them, or until my random musings aren’t just on the internet, but across the world. And maybe it’s time I start sharing more of my writing on this blog.

    Stay tuned, America.

Of Heroes, Meth Kingpins and Banned Books

   Normally in this spot you would be seeing Breaking Bad Shakespeare Friday. I’m going to keep that up, not to worry, my friends, but I will be taking two weeks off. Why? Because tonight I’m doing something uber fun, and we need to discuss it. And because next week is Banned Books Week. Obviously, I’m going to be all over that.

    But tonight... tonight my friends, I’m going to see Neil Gaiman speak at George Mason University. I want you to take a moment to think about how important this is for me. Imagine your favorite writer. Now imagine you’re going to see him speak. That’s how important that is for me. (Wait, I guess that’s not to hard...)

    Neil Gaiman is the first writer that I felt was writing just to me. Obviously I know that he wasn’t, there are no hidden messages in it that tell me exactly how I am going to live my life. (this isn’t the Harry Potter series, folks) What I mean is that Neil Gaiman was the first writer to put out a book that made it seem as if someone was writing specifically to my tastes. I remember reading “American Gods” and being blown away at the scope of it all. This isn’t a book. It’s a giant experience that encompasses so many different concepts but tells a coherent story that everyone can enjoy. I can’t explain it any clearer than that, so I hope it makes sense.

    Do you remember the first time you heard your favorite song? Do you remember how you wanted to play it 90 times in a row to make sure you remembered every word, every note? That’s how I felt the first time I read “American Gods.” Then I devoured “Good Omens” the funniest book I have ever read in my entire life (About the end of the world). Let’s not get started on “Neverwhere”, “Stardust” (the book is better... the book is ALWAYS BETTER) and back issues of “Sandman”, because this post will be longer than the books themselves when I discuss how much they mean to me.

    That’s why I can’t wait to hear him speak. I’ve seen videos, read his interviews, etc... but his writing means something to me. I can always point to some part of his books and get something out of them. I can always find a quote that is relevant to something I am going through. He is one of the reasons I have started writing as much as I have lately... because this man is a hero of mine.

    So, tonight, I get to see my author in action. It’s going to be an epic experience. I honestly can’t wait to see what he has to say. Sadly, he will not be signing books, so I will not get to meet him, but to be in the same room as him, absorbing his words life is going to be an awesome experience. I look forward to sharing it with you.

    Our next exciting adventure, my friends, will be Banned Books Week. The fact that we have this week makes me sad.

    Breaking Bad Shakespeare will return in two weeks for our final three installments: Jesse Pinkman, Walter White, and where the show goes from here to achieve Maximum Shakespeareanness.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt Stars as a Bike Messenger who... TO THE MULTIPLEX!

     There is a movie coming out that I am certain will blow all of your minds. Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Seen in Inception, Dark Knight Rises, and other movies not directed by Christopher Nolan.) plays a bike messenger that picks up the wrong envelope, and is chased around New York City. Every trailer I have seen demonstrates that this movie has the potential to be my pick for the movie that I am looking forward to more than any other this summer, because it is going to be bad.

    As loyal readers of this blog may have guessed (or non loyal ones. Or people that have casually seen me on the street) I love movies. I can’t get enough of them. I just love the smell of the popcorn, I love the previews, I love the uncomfortable seats. I just love the entire experience of going to the movies. I especially enjoy summer, when it seems like they release roughly two million movies into the theaters. (Three-fourths of those being remakes, sequels or remakes of sequels.)

    But at the end of the summer, there’s a very special week that I look forward to more than anything. It’s the last big weekend of the summer. Not Labor Day. Generally studios save their decent movies for big holidays or the start of the summer. (Or at least try. We all remember Speed Racer.) But the end of August is when movie studios generally release movies that are... let’s say less good.  Every once in a while they end up some surprise sleeper that’s decent, but for the most of the time, we won’t mince words, they suck. But they suck in an awesome way.

    Let’s look at Premium Rush, the movie I mentioned. This movie was clearly filmed several years ago, way before JGL (As they call him in the movie biz... look at me all going Hollywood here! Just like the real Shakespeare) was as famous as he was now. He hadn't been in any of his Nolan movies, and was known for doing Third Rock from the Sun and a few arty flicks. And it’s clearly been held off. Which means it is going to be just awesome. I simply can't wait for this.

    I love movies like this. You need to just shut off your brain and accept it for what it is. I can’t really describe how much I look forward to it or how it makes me feel. I enjoy the other movies, yes. Look at what I wrote for The Avengers back when it came out. But I walked into that one with impossibly high expectations that they easily met. But let’s face it... a movie starring someone that has been getting a lot of buzz over the past few years that is being dumped in August... that’s not The Avengers expectations. That’s barely the first Hulk movie expectations. (The arty one that got us into the mind of a giant green wrecking ball. Hulk Smash. That's what Hulk does.)

    So why am I looking forward to it if I have such low expectations? Because art is all around us. And sometimes the art of a “bad” summer movie is something that is underappreciated. This movie is going to spectacular. It is going to be enjoyable. And sometimes in our quest to find good movies or find art we forget that everything in some level is art.

    No one is going to be clutching an Oscar for Premium Rush. But I also know that I will go into it, and I will shut off my brain and I will enjoy it. So on the most basic level, it will have done its job. And that itself is art.

It Might Be Dangerous Out There. Take This.

                So, I recently entered a humor writing contest. It’s a contest held by the hilarious newspaper “The Washington Post” and they asked everyone who wants to enter to write a story from their life. I’m proud to say that I got my act together, and I submitted my final draft yesterday. When I hit the submit button there was applause and angels came down from the sky and oh the dances we danced to a lively trumpet tune.

                Ok, it wasn’t exactly like that (it was more of a jaunty piano jig.) But I consider this a big deal because I’ve been working hard to get myself out there more. Obviously I‘m doing so with this blog, and my loyal readers have been extremely helpful in doing so. I mean, I talk a lot about teaching, but obviously I enjoy writing if I take the time to post on this blog as much as I do. But it’s scary getting yourself out there. It’s very scary to think that your writing is going to be read by some, dismissed by know-it-alls (because we know there isn’t anyone like that out on the internet), and loved by a few people who just enjoy what you write on a whatever you call it-ly basis.

                This is the first real contest I’ve entered since I left college, so this is a big step in the evolution of Michael from mild mannered getting byer to guy who actually is doing what he wants with his life. This blog has been a nice step in the right direction of getting the creative juices going, and writing is inspiring writing is inspiring writing is inspiring writing, just like the royals keep producing royals.

                But WHY is it so difficult to get stuff out there? And I don’t mean winning or being published. I mean, hell, in this day and age getting published is easy. You want to be published there are literally a thousand programs that will allow you to make a book. I could even release a CD where I sing all the greatest hits that Britney Spears ever had. (I’m saving that for phase 2 of my world domination plan.) No, I’m talking about putting yourself out there to be judged and picked over. Why are we willing to keep this stuff inside for so long?

                I consider myself amusing. I know other people find me amusing, too, but most of them that comment are friends. And I greatly appreciate it. I also know that I have some people who read this who aren’t friends. And I appreciate that, too. But that doesn’t make putting myself out there any less difficult, you know? But therein lies the rub, Horatio… you have to put yourself out there in order for people to read you, and for the amusingness to not just be the voices in your head laughing at the jokes YOU think are funny.

                The fact that I have a blog allows me to work things out in the public square a little more than I normally would. Some of this is a pep talk to ensure myself that even if I don’t win (I may not be up to The Washington Post’s usual level of humor. And they must know humor right? They’re still running “Peanuts” reruns instead of giving the space over to a newer, less funny cartoonist.) I still made the right choice by taking the risk and putting myself out there. Deep down, I know I have. That’s the only way to move forward, to take risks and be uncomfortable for a little bit. (Also, I understand the irony of writing all these fears down, then showing it to whoever stumbles on Bad Shakespeare: The Blog.)

                I guess that’s just part of my journey from mild mannered guy who occupies a desk to Michael Hock: The person I want to be. 

Hey, I Just Met You... and This is Crazy... But Let's Invade Canada!

                There’s a musical called [title of show] that is extremely funny. If you don't have the cast album, I highly recommend it. It’s brilliant in the fact that I don’t think anyone has ever captured how difficult and scary it is to create something and put it out there. Except Mary Shelley, but that was creating something extremely different. In fact, the musical itself ends with the characters, self-aware (they are constantly breaking the fourth wall) finally saying, “whelp. We can’t keep adding stuff. We eventually have to let it go” and then most of the funny aspects stop as they watch their musical go.

            I enjoy that musical so much and I have the entire cast soundtrack downloaded up on my iPod (Or Mp3 player, until that Apple endorsement comes in… fingers crossed!) because it really does speak to me about the difficulties of creating… anything! In my case, this blog, which I don’t think people realize how scary it is to put out because now everyone can see what I write, and  Facebook page that I try to update with funnier status updates because I’m that kind of guy. I don’t believe in taking life to seriously, because in the end life doesn’t take me too seriously. (Besides, my life is boring. No one wants to see my REAL status updates. “Woke up”. “brushed my teeth.” “Drank orange juice from skull of my enemy.” “Went to work.”)

            But it is not easy putting yourself out there. People are reading it. And judging you for it. In the time I’ve started doing my status updates, I have been called racist, I’ve been accused of plagiarism, I’ve been told I’m not funny, been yelled at, offended people, and had some family members say hurtful things to me. I can handle most of it… except for the family members saying hurtful things, and the plagiarism thing.  The plagiarism stemmed from me making the same joke everyone was making, so I was guilty of being hackneyed, not stealing from you. I won’t apologize for making the same joke everyone was making. I may throw in a “Call Me Maybe” joke, too. I’m not stealing that, everyone is joking about that song, it’s the most popular song in America at the time I’m writing this. It’s also the most annoying. But I can’t stop listening to it. I’m half convinced that it’s placing a hypnotic suggestion in all of us, and now we’re just waiting for the trigger word to launch an assault on Canada. On the off chance that it’s not, I call that idea! (Yes, I know that the singer is from Canada. That’s part of the joke.)

            I don’t think people quite understand that this is difficult. I won’t stop doing it, because at the end of the day I enjoy it, and I’m not going to let the people get me down. I won’t lie and pretend to be someone that I’m not. And that’s what some of this comes down to, this blog, my Facebook status updates… being who I am. When I write, I can finally allow myself to be who I really am.

            I bring up [title of show] because of one song in particular. It’s called “Die Vampire, Die.” In it, the characters sing of the Vampires that fly around your head and to steal your creative energy. It’s actually really funny. (Maybe I should have just written a review about the show? It’s a great show. Go buy the cast album.) The Vampires are things like people that don’t want you to use bad language or write about anything offensive, the people that tell you someone else did it better, and lastly, that Vampire of self-doubt. The thing is, I think they got it a little wrong, because I think all of the other Vampires lead to the last one… self-doubt. When someone tells you that they’re offended and it’s someone you care about, you really do stop and think for a moment about not wanting to hurt them, and then pulling back. If someone says someone has already done it better than you… it pulls you back into that self-doubt.

            The song also sings that you have to be like Van Helsing and fight back. I’m assuming they mean the one in the book, not the crappy one played by Hugh Jackman. (How do you mess up Wolfman vs. Frankenstein vs. Dracula vs. Wolverine? How?) And that’s important. At the end of the day, when doing anything creative, you have to realize that you’re the one who has to live with it. You’re the one who has to say, “This is a representation of my work. I’m proud of it. Warts and all. Especially the warts!” But some days that can be so difficult. Much like making a good Van Helsing movie, apparently.

            I know today’s post is rather long. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, and sometimes, I need to get some stuff out there to everyone. None of this is meant to be a declaration that I’m going to be anyone but me while I’m posting this stuff. This is meant to be my way of reaffirming to myself that the only way to write, the only way to be is me, and if you don’t like it, well…  I guess that’s something you’re going to have to get over.

            The alternative, of course, is for me to start taking my creative cues from Mary Shelley.

All Aboard the Censor-Ship!

            As I’ve mentioned on this blog before, I am in class right now. We have received our final projects, and it’s on… wait for it… banned and challenged books. What I like about this professor is the fact that he encourages us to think not just about teaching, but how our teaching is going to impact students in the long run. I haven’t gotten that in all my classes.

            You might be able to tell, I’m against banning books. This post could easily turn into a long screed against banning books and the dangers of allowing kids to attend debutante balls. (The original draft of this veered WAY off topic.) But I’m not going to do it all in one posting. This is my opening post in a conversation that will last a while.

            Banning books is a horrible concept. But it’s been done in every society since the printing press was invented. Books were blamed for horrible tragedies (there were no video games back then), they were seen as an upper class enjoyment not fit for the lower class, they would spread ideas that ran counter to what the ruling class wanted everyone to believe.

            Doing it today under the guise today of “protecting children” is even worse. Protecting them from what? Bad language? Violence? The S-E-X word? Different ideas of a world than the one they live in? Banning books has never turned out well for anyone.

            This is where I cut myself short, before I get on a soapbox. There will be more to come regarding this, in a series of posts that will involve my thoughts, and maybe yours, on banning books. Have any ideas or any angles you’d like to talk about? Mention it in the comments, or email me at shakespearebad@gmail.com.

Of Man Eating Rabbits and the Bard... My Origin Story

So, naturally, I decided to become an English Teacher.

            That’s actually the middle to a very long tale filled with self-doubt, adventure, bad puns, a trip to a magical kingdom, explosions, and at one point a man eating rabbit named “Carl.” I can assure you that it’s actually a very boring story. Beginnings are boring. It’s much more interesting to start smack dab in the middle.

            This is where we’re at right now. Naturally, I’ve decided to become a teacher. I say “naturally” because I’ve always had an affinity for working with kids. I believe this is a result of my own ability to remain youthful at heart. That’s how I refer to it. Others refer to it as my near encyclopedic* knowledge of all things Superman and the fact that I just love a good cartoon on Saturday Mornings.

*Kids, an encyclopedia is like Wikipedia, but printed on paper. Also, it was regularly updated only by people who knew what the hell they were talking about.[citation needed]

            The response to me wanting to become a teacher has been… we’ll say “mixed.” It’s been split firmly into two camps. One the one hand you have “rah-rah!” which is very encouraging. On the other you have the less than enthusiastic and very sarcastic, “you reach for the stars, man.” (You had to hear the guy say this. It was REALLY sarcastic.) But as I’ve often found that following the crowd generally took me places I didn’t really want to go, so I’m not listening to the haters so much as archiving them and playing their words back in my head when I feel like remotivating myself. I figure if everyone approves of what I’m doing, then I’m not doing something right.

            That brings me to the next question you have rattling around your mind canvases, why start a blog about it? And why name it Bad Shakespeare? It’s simple… why not? I like writing. I always seem to have some story that I like sharing about my daily adventures in learning how to teach, and I enjoy writing… why not share my love with everyone. Plus it gives me a chance to brag about how great I am. That's all we really want at the end of the day, to brag about how wonderful we really are.

            As for your second question... is there anything better than truly Bad Shakespeare? Here is the bard, some might call one of the greatest writers of all time, if not the greatest, than the most well-known with the greatest hairstyle/mustache combination in the history of facial hair (the second being Mark Twain, but “Bad Twain” sounds like a country band.) But to watch, read, or see a truly bad Shakespearian production… you have to enjoy that. You have to savor it. You have to soak it in, and think to yourself, “how? How can someone be doing something so epically terrible with words that were created so beautifully and done so well for so many years?” So basically, I’d like you to all soak in these words as we go on this adventure.

Plus, no one has taken the name. Can you believe it? I really thought that “Bad Shakespeare” would be taken like, five minutes after the Internet was invented. Seriously? How was this name not taken? It is practically BEGGING me to take it.

            I hope you will enjoy this little trip into my thoughts, adventures, and just what it takes to be me. I hope to at least keep you entertained. If not, well, there’s still the man eating rabbit you can go visit.