Warren Ellis (seen here) is a writer that I pay attention to. His book Shivering Sands inspired me deeply, not so much in content but more-so in composition and style. The note below is from an installment earlier in the week at his blog Warren Ellis dot com. I stop in there a few times a week, so should you.
Heres’ what he says about stories that will never work and I think its fine advice.

I then did a thing I’ve very rarely had to do in my career: wrote to all concerned and said, sorry, I fucked up, this thing just isn’t working and so I’ve killed it. I knew that the artist was still finishing up something else and had the option to go straight to another gig, which made me feel a little better for the massive inconvenience. But not much.

The lesson is simply this: you just have to recognise that, no matter how much weight you put behind it and how much you tart it up,sometimes a story just doesn’t bloody work, and you have to take it behind the stables and shoot it through the head. No writer is perfect. We all have dead bodies to our names.

The corpse gets thrown in the Loose Ideas folder, where one day it will doubtless be cannibalised for its more interesting/less ripoffy parts and interpolated into something new and better. Storage of corpses is important. As in life, you never know when bits of them will come in handy.

The the secret working title to this pic is: “henchbot relaxing at home“.

Note the red gloves, thusly delivering the “total package”. This is Forest Hipster at its golden best.

From the open mic event today @ Whitechapel. Nothing special, Im just being lazy and blockquoting everything so I dont have to tell you the same thing twice.

Its pissing down proper here in Seattle Wa, anarchy from the skies always sets this town ablaze, be it snow/sun/rain. Al-WAYS MAKES ME LAUGH!!!
You’d think these citizens could drive in the rain wouldnt ya? Hell no its 35 per hour down the highway.
I havent had a day off since Black Friday so Im tired but otherwise fuckit, Im doing great.
Sunday morning, coming down.
Nice to see you guys, even though most these posts are troubled. When I get pissy/afflicted, I turn to Paul Crik.
No shit. Check it out.

I have alot more in the Unpublished archives to ship out but I have to be honest, Im not sure how they are being received, frankly I cant imagine anyone wanting to read them and the piece about how I scored Fable 3 can only possibly appeal to my gaming partner: BittenKazoo, who is off all weekend at a bachelor party and wont stop sending me phone pictures of pictures he is taking out of “Grizzly Man Monthly”.

The next piece to be leaked released is a jumbled thought on my experience with Alaskan Women. What you need to remember when reading this stuff is that its all first draft, in its roughest form and very often, in fact most always unfinished. Called away mid keystroke to pour another wine or step out for a smoke. I like things rough, they appeal to my sensibilities in thier raw form as something true and fast. I love getting an idea and pounding it out as fast as I can until active spellcheck begins to smolder and burn in the herculean effort to keep up. I never delete anything and when its time to buff I simply pull out the preferred parts and build around them on a fresh sheet.

Also in the forge sits another piece that is highly cathartic. You may have noticed today I ran a test sortie into the passcode protected post world, that is me getting ready to release something important but with select readership. Its times like this when the old LJ account would serve me well but whats the point. This forum works well b/c it allows real time interaction re: the of late controversial nature of the post itself, something I deem important.
That will kick off early this week, likely Tuesday or Wednesday.

Thats what Ive got for now, its Sunday afternoon and raining like hell, a glorious sight to behold.
Have a pleasantly wet evening, I can be found tonight in the bowels of the Market taking part in the annual Holiday Party Traditions put on by the People who Pay me to do Stuff. I get two drink tickets and a buffet boohfay. Well, that and all my favorite bars are a stones throw from where I will be so I guess its a good night for fun.

This is one of my favorite images, has been for years.

Forest Hipster is such an awesome description. I heard that this week over on the twitters and Ive been using it ever since, telling anyone who will listen that I am a post-punk forest hipster.

Tweet

Ok so yesterday evening I was chaining up one of my trucks for the hairball commute that I knew awaited me this morning and as I worked, people walked by sort of …I dont know…..snickering at my then-seeming overkill; it was very much Noah and the Ark as I put the finishing touches on the task. This morning there are abandoned cars littering every street, busses jack-knifed to hell and back, desperado white collars trying to freethumb their be-suited way into the city….its a total shit-show. The anarchy that snow brings to this town…..white collar anarchy is always worth a chuckle. I just zip around happily, chains clattering along the ice, stopping now and then to help out somebody stuck. This is my version of your Cancun beach, Im happiest when the weather is widely accepted to be at its worst. Particularly cold weather. I’ll take gale force winds, stinging snow and treacherous idiots driving like they know what they are doing over your rum and coke under a sun drenched cabana any day. Strange yet true.
I think to live in Seattle there should be a mandatory reading list that revolves strictly around skullduggerous, vice laden, foul weather livin’ and hard working history of this fine land. This used to be one hell of a frontier out here, what happened to the men Men who built it? Well, we all know they are dead…but what happened to that mindset? Just over 100 years ago, this burdgeoning territory was forged in the backbreaking inferno of Timber, Mining and Seafaring by Men who carried a near bloodthirsty, tough lust for life.

Imagine if you will, as I often do myself: Al Swearengen and the Gem situated along Pioneer Square, his dark hulking figure hovering along the Balcony over the Deadwood thoroughfare at dusk, one hand propping him against the rough hewn rail, close within reach of his whiskey and the other absently caressing the sinister 9″ Bowie knife placed carefully nearby as designs of revenge or income pierce through his glittering eyes. With a sudden air of decision he surveys the torchlit camp, swills the last of his drink while sheathing his blade and wheels around abruptly, stepping back into the Gem while staunchly calling for a whore to ease his passage into the night, which now looms with dark, murderous resolve.

Seattle never comes through when it comes to testosterone anymore, unless you head up to the Eagles on a Friday night for Underwear BEAR-AOKE. Least thats what I hear.
Makes up for it other ways though: This morning leaving Starbucks I took the last bits of an angry wave right to the face! Thats one hell of a wave to spray that far out and strong, it just tickled the hell out of me.
I want to take pictures but my camera is way to expensive to have out here taking salt spray like that…..maybe when this calms down a bit I will venture out with the film gear. Otherwise Ive been outside nonstop, all geared up with Winter wear, watching the Sound rage. I mean RAGE. The water is intense right now, feral would be the right word to describe it, snarling, howling and utterly feral. Last night I spent a good hour down there waiting for Kraken to arise and take the neighborhood.

Here’s a little Al Swearengen now with a life lesson for the gentle Merrick whose printing press has just been discovered by himself to be malicously detroyed, set upon by outlaws and dope fiends who have been commisioned to do such, by as yet unnamed powers.

Check it out.

In less than 36 hours I am assuming post as first mate aboard sailing vessel Wandering Star, Seattle on a three day sail around the Sound. Captained by Jerry Ceis and including the freshly minted, honorary pirate: Dave Henderson.

Cabin boy: as yet unknown.

my favorite part of this post was adding the tags.

I need an intervention, this is my call for help.
Henchmen unite.
If it matters: I only drink a shot in the dark, an off menu beverage that is simply served as a short drip with a shot of espresso (add a few cubes so I dont have to wait for it to cool down, and every other day i pick up the NY Times).
This clip below used to make me snicker, now Im just scared to death.