Posted by: comfortjunkie | August 13, 2008

How Entourage is Sapping my Will to Live

A friend recommended Entourage to me so I’ve been watching the first and second seasons. Yes, the dialog is good and the characters interesting. Ari is easily my favorite character and strangely, I find him the most likable as well. But mostly the show results in me sitting in the dark, watching, drinking and seething with bitterness and jealously until it’s time to go to bed. At this time the jealousy and bitterness has deepened into a great melancholy.

I have no desire to be famous but I have always had a strong desire to be rich, famous-person rich. Note: desire does not beget motivation to actual pursue said riches, but I want it all the same. Growing up poor and being a poor adult, I can think of nothing better than to be able to buy whatever I want whenever I want and never have to worry about bills, credit scores, when the next paycheck is going arrive. Watching the characters on TV buy four Ducati motorcycles when three of them didn’t even WANT one infuriates me. Yes, I realize it’s TV but I also realize that there are movie stars that DO that kind of thing because they can. Even if I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be nearly as wasteful and stupid with it.

It’s like when I met a guy at my friend’s timeshare here and we were sitting on the balcony of one of the rooms and he says, “I just have so much money, I don’t even know what to do with it all.” I wanted to push him off the balcony (right after he signed the life insurance policy). I KNOW what to do with it. Give it to me and I will make sure it’s well spent.

Still, I wouldn’t trade that kind of money for the fame that goes along with it. I would never want to be recognized in public or have people snapping pictures of me all day and night (mostly because I am spectacularly unphotogenic). I once saw a video of Britney Spears going to a Starbucks with photographers tripping over themselves to get pictures of her and I thought, “If that was my life, I’d kill myself.” Well, I probably wouldn’t, but I sure as hell would take the money I had and retire to some island somewhere in an impenetrable compound and never been seen in public again.

I will never, ever be that wealthy (unless I marry into it, ha HA) because I am a writer. Very few writers can make that kind of insane money, which I’ll say again, it completely undeserved by writers, actors, musicians and sports figures. I might someday make it to comfortable but I’ll never be handing out Ducatis like Halloween candy.

Which brings me to my next point. Any idiot can write a book. Go to the book store. Just looking around the shelves makes it clear that not only can any idiot write a book but nearly any idiot can get one published. I’m amazed at how many blogs I visit (once never to go back again) that have information on their book deal. I mean sure, if someone moron offered me a book deal to write about cats and pilates because of my blog, I’d take it and laugh all the way to the bank, but jeez, I would hope that I could produce something actually worth publishing one day. The book that is being shopped around by my agent is a non-fiction travel book, not an extension of my blog (god forbid, can you imagine how boring that would be?). Even worse, once these bloggers get book deals, all they blog about is public appearances, book signings, release dates…SNORE.

Those few of you that know me personally (and thus my 100 Dates experiment) know that I like to set goals. SMART goals (do I really have to go over it again? Pay attention this time: Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, Timely) and so I have decided to write one book per genre starting today with the book I’m currently working on, an untitled mystery. The genres that I have decided to write are: mystery, chick lit, sci-fi, autobiography and young adult, just to prove that any idiot (me) can write a book about nearly anything AND get at least one published.

How will I achieve this great literary body of work in a timely manner? Simple. I can’t watch any TV or play any video games until I’ve written at least 15 pages per day, every day, seven days a week. This means that I should have a full first draft in 27 days (assuming that my goal is 400 pages).

Specific: I am going to write a book in each genre and get at least one published.

Measurable: I am going to write 15 pages per day, seven days a week.

Attainable: Chimps can write 15 pages per day of garbage, so I think I can write 15 pages of semi-literate prose.

Realistic: Meh. Probably. What else do I have to do all day?

Timely: One rough draft per month (30 day period).

Got it?


  1. You forgot to add that you are going to write that awesome World of Warcraft Erotica we discussed!

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