Cemil was in a battle without honour or humanity...

Versus hayfever. That scourge that so rarely affects me bombarded me for this entire week. I've barely gotten out of my room the pollen was so bad. You might have had occasion to see me during the week being absolutely demolished by it. I've never had a reaction that bad. The thing is that I've only ever had hayfever three times in my very life. Weird huh?

Maybe I'm just getting old. Man, what can you do?

So anyway, I've been demolished all week by this bastard of a thing but now the rains have come I'm feeling a lot better.

Cemil has exploded...

That's the only real word for it. I've absolutely just imploded these last couple of weeks. I hit the wall recently on this great big editing assignment, had my brain explode and from there have just been trying to put it all back together again.

I have been mildly successful to be honest. I've done great things with my writing this year and although I haven't gotten the word count that I would have liked, I've reached some pretty good places with my craft. It makes me happy. But it's become pretty clear to me that I don't just want to, but I need to get so much better. But I've accomplished so much:

I'm working a job next week 9-5 monday, tuesday, thursday, friday for a week and a half inside an actual publishing house for an hour and a half. I've finally made a brief, but my all important first paid mark in the industry. This is such a big huge deal for me that I'm really happy. I've accomplished just about every goal that I've set myself for this year and it makes me so happy.

I've really struggled in the past to find something I really care about that I've been able to do so well in. My huge problem is that I'm never happy with anything I do and stress the hell out of myself because I want it so bad. And I honestly think I'm quite shit at it - it's nice to know, that y'know... I ain't half bad at this gig.

Now I just need to kick my ass back into gear. TALLY HO!

Cemil hates fasting...

My body isn't built for it. It's especially not built for it when my blood sugar crashes and gives me headaches, makes me feel fucking hungry all the time and ruins my concentration.

I can't sleep. Fortunately, I just discovered True Blood and my thought of the day is:

"I have gout of the dick."

Clearly this is my (lack of) blood sugar talking. God, I cacked myself when I heard that.

Cemil is feeling tired...

Man my blood sugar problem is really starting to kill me. I bull rushed through 2 chapters over the weekend but didn't actively realise that I basically just wrote 1 chapter and split them into 2 just to make it look like I did more work. I actually did write 2 chapters and they were decent enough I suppose, but my normal chapter length is 3500-4000 words. I wrote 2000 a pop.

I can fill those out though no problem.

But man, this blood sugar thing is killing my drive to work. My ability to concentrate - it's all shot to tell.

Oh well. ALSO in my novel class last night I think half the class stared daggers of death at me. I was telling them about my work experience and we were talking about how to write a submission for your novel. All well and good and the teacher asks me the question:

Were you in a position to reject their submissions? And I answered straight away: Yes. And I rejected most of them.

Dead silence. Eye lasers hit my face.

Someone asked me why and the reality of it was, that most of the submissions I saw were total shit penned by people who thought they could do what I do professionally on the weekend between their regular day jobs. Writing is not a game, it's not a thing for hacks to pick up and glut the industry with. But the reality is that they do and they do it by the truckload and it's total ratshit.

What people don't realise is that writing is one of the hardest, most grueling processes you can put yourself through. It takes determination and a fine understanding of craft. An understanding that can take years to develop - I've been professionally trained to do this and I have a lot of things to learn about this gig.

But the only thing that is clear about the writing biz is that it's a lot of hard yards with almost no payoff until the end. And maybe, just maybe, you'll become the next big thing. That's the career I've chosen. I'm probably never going to be rich or famous or anything. But god damn it I am going to get published. I am going to get my book done. And I am going to become an editor.

Cemil is feeling accomplished...

So, I've had a busy couple of weeks. Been working my ass off for two weeks at a publishing house AND I got two chapters done this weekend in time for Novel class on monday night. All in all, I've had a pretty satisfying couple of weeks. Certainly I feel vindicated for my experiences and the amount of work I've put in.

Unfortunately, I've put myself behind on my school work. It's nothing insurmountable. An essay that's admittedly not very long on two short stories I've read before and considered previously. I need to analyse the symbolism and how it talks about the barriers we put between ourselves.

Then I have to finish that awful novel I've been reading: The Master and the Margherita by Bulgakov. The devil take him.

THEN I need to go through a giant chunck of text and make a style sheet out of all the little details in it. Joy. But I've got at least a week to do the essay and the style sheet. That should be easy enough.

IF I can jump this hurdle then I am satisfied that I can manage all of my projects and get them done on time. I certainly hope so - typing two chapters in a weekend has given me a great deal of confidence. Maybe I can get a significant chunk of my novel done before the end of the term and feel somewhere approaching to proud of myself.

I don't actually...do that very often. I hold the strange belief that I am capable of stupendous amounts of fine work. Or something. I dunno? My particular brand of stupid isn't something I can control. I just don't know how to be happy with myself and the brief moments of satisfaction I do feel are fleeting. Alas, I'll just have to bust my balls and get the damn book done and then redrafted and published.

Then the world will be mine!

Cemil is celebrating...

Collingwood won the Premiership. Best belated birthday present ever. I'm going to have to cheer with Ray and Katy on monday about it. I already spent half the morning reading, watching and talking to my best mate about how awesome it was.

And I managed to type the most part of a chapter during the game. That's how comitted I am to my writing folks, writing books during a grand final...

At which point I stopped writing and watched the game. Oh my god that was fantastic!!! :D :D :D

Alright, gotta get back to my grindstone ladies and gents. See you soon.

OH AND GEORGE I have a plan how to make all of this up to you. I am going to start reading your book and then we can catch up for coffee every so often and chat about it.

Cemil is twenty-six...

So it was my birthday yesterday and now I'm twenty-six. I'm working (for free) in a job that I love and now I'm a year older. Hooray!

I'm also starting to go bald but hey, male pattern baldness is just one of those things you can't do much about so no use complaining about it, just deal with it. Besides, my hairline is actually starting to look a bit better in some places. All I'm going to do is just shave my head when it gets bad. That's how real men deal with going bald.

Also, I've been editing press releases in house for the publisher (whom I won't name, and for something I won't reveal because that would be stupid) and I totally just re-wrote a sentence. And it was pretty exciting!

Anyway, I just speed read two books and I'm going to work on a manuscript for the third soon. Now I'm reading an American book they want to publish here. It's all going well for me today! Hope you all have a good one, I'm getting back to work.

Laters.

Cemil is experiencing work...

My first two days at Black Dog Books have been fantastic. A lot of reading, a lot of unsolicited manuscripts and speed reading novels so I can edit an actual manuscript. An actual dead set manuscript. Fuck. Yeah.

Also:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rP9kbfjNFws

Cemil wants to sleep...

I am exhausted.

Too many nights of staying up late and habitually waking up early. But the main reason I'm really tired is because I went to my very good mates wedding and I was up at 6 am and didn't get home till 10pm that night. I'm just nackered.

On very pleasing news: Geelong lost and Collingwood beat the shit out of the Bulldogs. I'm quietly confident that we've got season 2010 sewn up. If Collingwood won this year it would make me so very happy.

I spoke to my novel writing teacher, Ray, tonight and I revealed something to him that I am exceedingly proud of. I've accomplished my goal for writing this year. Maybe I haven't been as productive as I would have liked, but I have taken the wetstone to my writing blade and I have honed the edge back to where I want it. And I am a better writer right now than I ever have been.

I have had many writing mentors over the years. Here is my opportunity to thank one man in particular, who I have in private before, but I feel like doing so now in greater detail. My mate Leo. I've always had the skills of writing and characterisation. I'm a natural writer. What Leo taught me was the craft of showing where a character came from and creating them from the ground up, showing the reader how the character became who they are, or are becoming. It's like watching DaVinchi paint the Mona Lisa.

It's a skill I've stolen from him and I'm very thankful for it. Thanks, mate. And then there is my perennial friend and voice of reason, Esther. If there is ever a person who sneezes more talent into a tissue in a week than I will in my lifetime it is her. Dead set, you are all going to be reading her books soon and I'll be able to flash my autographed copies and make you all jealous. She really is that good.

Cemil woke up...

I woke up this morning. Funny thing about that, it happens every morning but I feel like this morning was a little different.

I spend a lot of time doing all kinds of interesting things. I like to mess about with video games and such, but most of my time is spent finding out new things. I love finding out new things and hearing new ideas from people, or learning about people I've never heard from before.

I love the acquisition of knowledge, it's one of my passions in life. And I have my own standards as to what is worthwhile or not and I'm quite happy to operate by them.

I am rarely surprised by people. But I am constantly surprised by myself. It's not that I lose the drive to do something or not to do something it's that I forget that I have it. I honestly sometimes forget about the small stuff inbetween me as I am now and me as I want to be, or what I want to have done.

It's bizarre but that's me. So I woke up and realised that I have things that I need to do and get done, expectations of myself and such. Ah. I really wish I wasn't this way and that my brain would work like normal people's but alas, my talent for deception really does extend to myself in a way that's disturbing.

Oh well, I can't fool myself for long. I have shit to get done, ciao!

Cemil shrugged...

Hello friends, my name is Cemil and this is the Real Deal.

I have often wondered about the burden's people shoulder. I've always found it quite ridiculous yet as I go through this year I find myself heaping more and more on my own shoulders. Since when have I let the expectations I put on myself weigh me down?

I've come to realise that I've been doing it for the whole of this year.

So I'm going to shrug those burden's off. Because the reality is that the stuff we heap on our shoulders is nonsense. Illusion's of importance placed on feelings, ideas and circumstances piled on conceit. It's time to move on and get on with kicking ass.