Monthly Archives: November 2014

Internet Writing: Always a Marathon, never a sprint.

This is so outside the box for me to even consider composing a post such as this one; a reccomendation for other writers. Other INTERNET writers, to make things even worse. I myself am an internet writer of sorts, and one who has found himself in a market already saturated with blogs, videos, and short stories that have thus far found a tremendous amount of more attention than that of my own. So why am I doing this? The short answer is because I am supposed to be writing my second research paper in as many weeks, and I most certainly do not want to be doing that. If you can think of a more artistic or charitable reason than that, feel free to adlib away.
To start I should mention that I have not thus far been terribly sucessful at what I do. While some things that I have written and filmed have been received well, they have not been received widely. The most my blog posts ever get in a day is fifteen or so odd views, and as for my youtube videos, well without alot of prodding from strangers that must loath me, I have been able to achieve a couple thousand views on a video or two of mine. While those are not numbers to scoff at, they are also not numbers to celebrate, given that writing is really my only discernable skill. Now, that being said, I do have a work ethic, and it is one that I believe is at the very least mentionable, if only so that successful writers have something to laugh about as they are busy not paying attention to the things that I write.
First and foremost, writing is a labor of love. For the sake of craft I should put this point last as it is far and away the most important, but if you are like me you only pay attention to the first few paragraphs of my blog posts anyway, so with that in mind, this is where this information is going to go, thank you very much. For what it is worth, the advice is true. Writing is a process that you must love full heartidly if you are to are to excel at. It seems like very basic advice, but it’s true. By deciding that you want to be a writer and then devoting yourself entirely to the pursuit of it, you have in turn already become one. In fact, I would even go as far as to say this: to all you daily writers out there, congradulations, you are more than likely more skilled at your craft than ninety percent of the general population. Don’t get to excited. That other ten percent, the ten percent that you (and I) are competing with, are mean motherfuckers that will bite your fucking heads off with their best sellers and not even know that it happened. Some of these writing Goliaths are brilliant, like Stephen King and his perhaps even more talented son Joe Hill, and others are fools (you know who I am talking about) but either way it is the standards people like them set that make it damn near impossible for a begining writer to start out. They already have an audience, they have procured their metaphorical seat at the table, and as a result shaped what that table should look like. Publishers want people that will sell, and for that reason, writers need to be able to sell themselves. The top ten percent isn’t good enough. We need to be in the top one percent, or somehow write a new vampire romance novel that appeals to both teen girls and menaposal mothers. We need to stand out, which leads me to my next and final point…
Writing is a marathon, not a sprint. Just like in most other careers, in writing you are only as good as what you are working on next. For example. If tomoro my blog were to somehow attain two thousand hits (quite honestly still a humble number all things considered) and then return the next day to my usual fifteen, Tuesday’s accomplishment would be irrelevant. Repetition is what matters, and while no writer can control the reactions of the audeience, we can shape our own process. For the first few months of this school semester I was enthrolled with the novel that I had been writing. My goal was to finish my first draft by Holloween a task that I was ultimately successful with. However, my methods for attaining this goal were perhaps not the wisest. Every morning at five am my alarm would go off, and I would immediatly reach for the cold cup of coffee that I had brewed the night before for just such a moment, chugging it as quickly as possible so that I could get to work. And then I would, for three to four hours depending on what my class schedule allowed I would work on my book. And then I would work again later in the day, until totally I had accumulated six to seven hours of writing on my novel. While that is undeniably a desirable amount of time a day to be able to write, it is also a chunk of time that looking back I cannot believe I was ever able to cut out for myself. I work, I am a student, and I am engaged. Six hours of anything other than maintaining those three things is extremely difficult to attain. Eventually i lost it. I began to crash, and so did my work, in all areas of life. And that is where I learned to pace myself. Because in a world where you truly are only as good as your next project, you need every better of strenghth that you can muster. Writing is a marathon, not sprint.
Thanks for reading for folks,
Paul Durante
Follow me on Twitter @DewmontPaul

A post that i forgot to title

dailydewmontnews

uh oh. the weekend came and went, and no blog posts followed suit. it has been, at least for the last week or so anyway, my intention to post on a daily basis. its an obligation i put on myself when i chose the title, a lack of foresight that will not be over looked again. anyway, as some of you might remember, my name is paul durante, and last saturday (technically the one before last saturday) i promised that i would do “short story saturdays,” a weekly segment in which i would drag out old short stories that i have written and we would collectively make fun of them. while that still sounds all well and good, im not sure that i am ready to do that. there are a few i have out there that i feel deserve a little bit more attention before they are written off…

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A post that i forgot to title

uh oh. the weekend came and went, and no blog posts followed suit. it has been, at least for the last week or so anyway, my intention to post on a daily basis. its an obligation i put on myself when i chose the title, a lack of foresight that will not be over looked again. anyway, as some of you might remember, my name is paul durante, and last saturday (technically the one before last saturday) i promised that i would do “short story saturdays,” a weekly segment in which i would drag out old short stories that i have written and we would collectively make fun of them. while that still sounds all well and good, im not sure that i am ready to do that. there are a few i have out there that i feel deserve a little bit more attention before they are written off as failures, so while i still very well might get to posting them, it may be a great long while. SO in it’s place i have come up with a substitute. another weekly segment in which we mock my failures, “video critique saturdays,” oh sure it doesnt have the same fancy alliteration that “short story saturdays,” is able to claim, but i believe that it will be a good time nonetheless. essentially, i will post one of my old youtube videos every week, tell you the story behind it and let you know everything that i did wrong. now some of you readers out there (of which i have six) might be thinking to yourselves, “that seems rather self indulgent,” and to you i say “OF COURSE IT IS THIS IS A BLOG.” every aspect of social media is self indulgent, but at least in this instance we can talk about what a fool i am, and we dont have to rehash my old and unchanging issues with the educational system, or with life in general. sound nice? good. in other news that you shouldnt care about, i will also be beggning a sort of vlog beggining hopefully this wednsday, in which i will take a look at the news and beg for strangers to like me. i think that i will call it “the wednsday show,” as i am not excessively creative. so there is that going on to. so thats about everything my friends. hope you enjoy the blog, but more importantly, i hope you keep reading even if you dont. heres a link to my last video just for the hell of it. please like subscribe, and tell your friends to do the same. http://youtu.be/NdoKxPI7wqY there should be another one uploaded next sunday. thanks
Paul Durante
Follow me on twitter @DewmontPaul

Angry Teenager

dailydewmontnews

That’s me in a nutshell, though not in the strictest of senses, given my year of birth. Regardless the defiant, angry spirit is the same, despite the fact that I am twenty year old groom to be education major on his way to teaching high school, and not the fifteen year old listlessly roaming the streets of my neighborhood at four in the morning. I’m not exactly sure what happened. It used to be that I would walk into high school as a formality. What happened while I was in there didn’t matter much because I wasn’t going to do any work any way, and they weren’t going to fail me out. It was a decent enough system I suppose. In my four year high school career I took well over fifty “sick days,” and as you can imagine I was never in the teachers office early the next day…

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A post about friday.

today is friday. if you are reading this, chances are you already knew. and if you are reading this in the future, it probably isn’t friday, but that is little concern of yours. you have mastered time travel, and done everything else of interest to the point where reading my humble little blog seemed like a viable use of your time. i thank you for your radership. and your readership. and the ship that you travel through time with, like doctor who. dwa dwa dwa dwa. that was me onamontapeeaing the fuck out of the doctor who theme song. if you read those words and thought immediately of the show, you are either a true fan, or demonstrating the first signs of schizophrenia. either way, i am glad to have you as a reader. as you may be able to tell, this is not a sort of essay like some of my other posts have been this week. i am not here to profess the dangers of education, or to call my teachers names. no, this angry teenager (who as of yesterday is now twenty one) is happy. he is happy, because today is friday, which means that monday tuesday, wednsday and thursday can go fuck themselves. even sunday is on thin ice. if you havent figured it out by now, i am not much of one for school. i hate it in the same way a rational person might hate hitler. i hate it with the same fervor that americans mis understand things that arent…american. i hate it with more passion that bugs bunny had for tricking donald, with more anger than wallace and gromit had love for cheese, with more more passion than frodo had for sam, because we all know that there was something a little extra going on there. yes, if you know me, you know that i am not meant to be a student. im a journeymen. not particularly good at anything, but willing to try most things that dont involve phd’s and motherfucking fractions. the weekend is a liberating time all of us. aside from being what is perhaps one of the greatest reduncies i have ever passed through the keys of my laptop, it is as true a statement as i can muster. we all need the weekend. without them we might die. well i might. you could be one of those freaks that likes school for all i know. you could be one of those kids that likes their teachers, and raises their hands in class, and knows what the fuck a pathagoreum is and if you are….i appreciate your readership. the point of my posts is not to isolate, but to self express in a most volitilely arrogant ways possible. because the truth is, none of you know me. you might know that i am the goofy motherfucker on youtube that will on occasion slip on and old leather jacket, call himself stirfry and pretend to act, but outside of that, there is no reason for you to have any interest in any of my nonesensical ramblings. so with that in mind, i thank you for your readership.
Now, before i fuck off and enjoy the weekend that i have been at least kind of rambling about, lets talk some shit. first of all, i am happy to be able to report that as of right now i have made good on my resolution to blog a little bit more. next week i will make strides in blogging a little bit better, and before you know it, we will have something decent on our hands. asisde from that, i would also like to mention that in the near future i will be releasing my last video on the present cycle of otto and stirfry videos. dont worry, i m sure there will be a shit ton more than anyone ever wanted there to be very soon. for now, you can see the second to last one here http://youtu.be/NdoKxPI7wqY for best results, like subscribe, and send me your money. in that same vein of thought, i would also like to post on the internet, for the sake of making myself accountable that i would like to begin an at least semi regular video vlog type thing on the youtube channel to suplement the actual scripted videos. so yeah, thats about all my news. enjoy your weekend
Thanks,
paul durante
follow me on twitter @DewmontPaul

my birthday.

oh my goodness, it’s my birthday, and i only just got used to telling people that i am twenty. where does that leave me? now i am no longer a twenty year old fresh out of teen-hood with an at least passable excuse for being the walking irresponsible mess that i always am. the only consolation to that is that as of today i can no legally drink those miseries away. but in all seriousness, this is an interesting occorance for me. this is a day after which i am expected to be an entire year more responsible, an entire year more mature, an entire year more figured out. that’s a lot to ask from a dude that thought it was still 2012 a few weeks ago. the truth is i dont really mind getting older, i dont really mind the increase in expectation or in responsibility, i dont even care that it isnt 2012 anymore (although that was a pretty good year). birhtdays aren’t so bad. regardless of the debateableness of their value, or of whether or not they are selfish (which of course they are, but then what the fuck isnt?) they can be a good time all the same. while i am excited to spend time with my family, and my fiance, i dont need this day to be about me. frankly im more excited for the new pokemon game thats about to come out. in case you were wondering, there isnt a message to this blog post. you wont leave it with anything other than a few less moments of your life that you can claim as your own. what do you want from me? it’s my birthday.
Thanks,
Paul Durante
Follow me on twitter @DewmontPaul

The value of Paper: A story that has nothing to do with paper.

I am a junior in college, which is cause enough to be bitter, a state that I loudly and proudly inhabit as most of you who have read my previous blog posts understand. The way that i see it, college is only sort of a choice. Some people love it, some people hate it, and others don’t understand it, but we all do it because while the choice is presented to us as being one in which you either go to college or don’t, the truth of the matter is that the choice is between the middle class, and working at Dairy Queen.
For the record, there is no shame in working at Dairy Queen, or at places like it. God knows i’ve done it. But that isn’t the point. We’re talking about money here. We are paying for money. We are dedicating YEARS of our fucking lives in the pursuit of money. We are paying tens of thousands of dollars a year so that when we graduate we can pretend that we have MOTHERFUCKING GOD DAMN SHIT STAINED BLOOD FUCKING MONEY.
…….Now that being said, having money isn’t so bad. It’s living the lie that irks me. College professors aren’t teachers. I’m not trying to make a statement with that, I am telling the truth. The complete and utterly non debateble truth. College professors are not teachers. They go to school where they learn to research and they are hired by the universities on the grounds of said research where they are employed and expected to bring in more research, which inevitably leads to grants that allow the university to erect a bigger library for, you guessed it, more fucking research.
They aren’t there to teach. They are there to pretend to be students for the rest of their lives, and to sound smart because of the brilliant fucking secondary Scholarship articles that they formulate that are so boring they have to be brilliant.
I’m not saying that college professors are bad people. I’ve had some great ones myself. That’s not really the issue either. The point is, college is not high school. where you are cementing in the fundementals learned in grade school, and developing as people. College is an entirely different beast in which you attend for the sole purpose of landing a job. The knowledge itself is nothing that you can’t find on wikipedia. I know this for fact because my 3.5 gpa has been sustained almost solely by wikepedia. So that’s it then. My thoughts. My disertation. The price of paper. Your dignity. Your happiness. Your money. Your time.
Thanks,
Paul Durante
Think I’m a cynical snot? Tell me all about it on twitter! Follow me @DewmontPaul

The Research Paper Blues

If you read my last post “Angry Teenager” (find the fucking link yourself) then you most likely have assessed that I am not your typical happy go lucky student, if such a thing exists outside of PBS featured programming. I’ve never been able to find school any sort of tolerable. In second grade I hatched a plan to break into my school and deconstruct all of the desks, and now thirteen years later I sit metaphorically before you still the angry soul that does is still foiled by his lack of knowledge as it pertains to using a screwdriver. I have never been able to “stick it to the system,” in the way that my rebel spirit pleads for me to. In high school I never did homework, but that only ever led to remedial courses at a community college, and a job at Dairy Queen as my then girlfriend, now fiance went off to school in Kansas. As I have mentioned in my last post, and to anyone who will listen because as I often admit, I am completely desperate for attention, a lot has changed since then. My life as some might say, is somewhat together. Sure I wahve the enduring hobby of swearing online, and asking friends and strangers a like to stand in front of a camera and recite, without ever waivering from the script dialouge that I will never be able to pay them for having perfomed, but to the concerned parent or all too nosy family friends, that can be written up as a phase: a transitioning period between the pointlessness of high school and…well the pointlessness of college. But those who know me truly well know that I do not transition, I only grow more stubborn, latching on desperately to what is familiar, and what is comfortable. In this case what is familiar and comfortable is almost my only tolerable option. I love to write, even when it is on a blog that goes out to six people, and I love to direct, event though I have no idea where to point the fucking camera, and I can’t afford semi decent sound equipment. What I dont love are research papers, in which we are expected not to do research, but to transcribe in lengthy detail what thoughts the PROFESSOR might have on the subject, as they have presented such ideas to us, either through lecture, or through long winded secondary or theoretical sources (meaning that they don’t matter unless a jack ass with a PHD says that they do) that we have been forced to choke down. Whatever the case, whatever it is that a professor wants from you, it is never your own ideas on a subject. It is never anything new or original becuase new and original can’t possibly be correct- they didnt come up with it after all. Anyway, that’s enough of that. I had a shit ton more, but wordpress deleted it for some reason, so motherfuck that. As always, my name is Paul Durante, and if you care to tell me I’m an egotistical jack ass, do so on twitter @DewmontPaul. THanks for reading folks

Angry Teenager

That’s me in a nutshell, though not in the strictest of senses, given my year of birth. Regardless the defiant, angry spirit is the same, despite the fact that I am twenty year old groom to be education major on his way to teaching high school, and not the fifteen year old listlessly roaming the streets of my neighborhood at four in the morning. I’m not exactly sure what happened. It used to be that I would walk into high school as a formality. What happened while I was in there didn’t matter much because I wasn’t going to do any work any way, and they weren’t going to fail me out. It was a decent enough system I suppose. In my four year high school career I took well over fifty “sick days,” and as you can imagine I was never in the teachers office early the next day trying to figure out what I had missed. I already knew; pointless bullshit that was predetermined to be important by people who had never and would never meet me. Learning what the fuck it all meant wasn’t of much interest to me. I was always smart enough, it wasn’t an issue of difficulty. I didn’t do shit because there wasn’t a single person on the planet- my parents, the pope or the motherfucking p-page of the dictionary, that could convince me that it was important….and then I met a girl.
Now before I proceed, I should mention very clearly that I still love that girl very much. She is in fact that future Mrs. Paul Durante, or whatever other less misogynistic handle you might want to throw out there. This girl was valedictorian, and part of the honors society, and an educator to be. That changed things. To a degree anyway.
College was never for me. I think that goes without saying, but then blogging is free so what the fuck, I’ll throw it out there anyway. I’m not built for college, I hate being told what to do, and I hate paying twenty thousand dollars a year to receive said treatment. I’m deviant ignorant, and damn right offensive, but most off all, I am stagnent. I don’t change, ever. So while I can “get my act together” (as people describe it) for a girl that I care about, I can’t silence my angry teenage soul. I graduated high school a 1.7 GPA, and while I now I have a 3.5 and am part of the education program, I am still largely the same person. College is hard for me, not because the work is challenging (though it very much is) but because it takes a tremendous amount of work for me just to convince myself that it matters. Before I met my fiance, I would have been happy never having gone to college, living in my parents basement, writing short stories that my mother tells me are “interesting”. Now that isn’t much of an option anymore. I still write (which goes without saying on my blog) but I am now faced with a deep inner need of being able to provide for her, and for whatever children we might have in the future. And I am happy with that. The ends have never been the issue, it’s the means. School itself. An extended education. You can’t do anything without one, and to me, it’s maddening. Sifting threw the pretentiousness of a literture classroom, the frivolousness of a grammar classroom (which is essentially made irrelevant by spell check) and the tediousness of an education classroom (which is largely common sense) is maddening. For me anyway. A lot of you reading this probably like these things, and that is just as valid as my disdain for them. The point is, why does college have to be the standard, and not an option? Where do people such as myself fit into the equation? We don’t, and that’s the problem.
Paul Durante
Follow me on Twitter @DewmontPaul

Short Story Saturdays

Maybe. Maybe I will do short story saturdays. As any writer worth their salt can say, I have stacks upon stacks of unread undesirable short stories written from the perspective of a fifteen year old boy desperate for attention. While I on occasion will attempt to break out those old stories and salvage them into somethings sell-able, the overwhelming verdict is often enough that they are beyond saving. Even old stories that I have had published in magazines often times fall far short of anything that I would want someone that knows me to see. And that is where you come in to play my fine feathered friends. You don’t know me. As far as you know I am jut the long winded wordy sometimes leather bound (See http://youtu.be/NdoKxPI7wqY ) emo loser that shouts all things “Dewmont” for the world to hear. And while that iteration of myself is scarcely better than it’s mopey fifteen year old counter part, it will seem miles better by comparison. So, for the sake of humor, I am considering integrating a weekly segment of unearthing some of my particularly horrible short stories for the world (meaning the three and a half people that read this blog) to see. And they really are dreadful my friends. We’re talking phrases like “suspicious coffee pot.” So in the coming weeks you can expect to possibly see that. Also, as I have mentioned several times throughout my blog, I am putting the finishing touches on a novel. So if I am never able to find a publisher for it, you can expect to see that released on her as well, though in segments. But that won’t be until the distant future.
So yeah. Thanks for reading,
Paul Durante
Thinking I’m a stupid asshole? Tell me on Twitter! You can follow me @DewmontPaul . Call me stupid, call me a loser, just don’t call me late for dinner