The New Deal

So I am a complete liar.  Here I am saying that I'm going to post twice a week and here I barely make my Tuesday posts.  Now I could excuse myself by saying that I have a new job and am still spending time looking for another one (true), that I've been involved in other church and other social activities (true and half-true), and that in the moments when I actually slow down I'm going over my finances again and again daily until I hyperventilate and pass out next to my mattress at the sheer shock of how poor I am and how pathetic and small my life has gotten (and wow is this the longest sentence of whining I've ever seen written from my own hand) but I would also be leaving out the other side of the story that with all the busy stuff I'm also an insomniac and still manage to have plenty of downtime for reading books, reading webcomics and new comics (there is a new one out called Heavenly Nostrils, which has been out for a couple weeks about a girl who makes friends with a unicorn in a very Calvin and Hobbes fashion, although we have still to meet this girl's parents) and despite the fact that I deleted almost all the games on my computer the first week I got it (especially Minesweeper because it sucks your soul) I left Mahjong Titans and get compulsively stuck to Fortress, Dragon and Spider (Turtle when I want a challenge; I refuse to play Cat or Crab because they are way too easy to win) and it's so stupid that I'm playing Mahjong because there is no sense of accomplishment when I win since my fingers automatically press the NEXT GAME button and my life continues to pass me by, and I have tried to delete the game but apparently I waited too long because whenever I try now, it refuses to leave the folder, a clear sign that a demon has infested the game and is determined to undermine my too-late sense of responsibility to keep myself free from distraction; and of course, I'm on Hulu all the time now (I just finished watching all five seasons of The Guild; I can't believe how I've missed watching that show until recently, it's so freaking hilarious!) that in the end, I have to own up to the fact that I'm a flake and haven't been able to commit to my online self-induced obligations to my (currently) audience of six-and-a-half people (wow, forget the length of whining, this is just the longest sentence period; holy crap, Victor Hugo would be so proud.)

I soon realized that it wasn't entirely that I can't commit or was overwhelmed, I realized that I was mostly just out of ideas of things to talk about.  I mean, I can talk about writing and make book recommendations till I'm blue in the face (or until my fingers fall off... which makes a lot more sense given the medium of communication that I'm using) frankly, that just bores me.  I mean, since I haven't been paid to be published yet, what new things do I really have to offer on the craft of storytelling?  I mean, heck, Wikipedia can tell the facts on narrative better than I can.

So I was out of ideas the other morning and walked into the dining room when I saw one of my roommate's books on the table.  It's a pocket-sized thing called The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.  It's a list of 217 questions to ask in conversation; they are deep-thinking questions designed to ignite soul-searching and real get-to-know-you type discussions.  I looked over all those questions and said to myself, "Hey, these are good questions.  I'm gonna answer all these questions on my blog."

This should be, right?

Right?