I’m coming right out with it: yes, I am “genius.” I don’t remember my exact IQ score, but it is up there. At last check, I’m right around the threshold for Mensa, which I have no actual interest in joining.
Truth be told, however, I don’t like telling people. I generally just tell people I have a “high intellectual metabolism.” When I say “genius” or “high IQ,” they get weird ideas in their head about me and what I’m capable of.
So let me set a few things straight…
What qualifies me to run a software company?
I’m not writing this to fish for compliments. I’m really wondering. The nice thing about a blog is that you can ask introspective questions like this without people thinking they have to come up with an answer.
Of course, this isn’t to say I doubt that I am qualified, somehow. I seem to just fit in the position. That said, I really have to wonder why it fits me – or more accurately, why I fit it.
Sorry I haven’t made it to the blog much recently. Between running my software company and being a full time student, I scarcely have time to breathe. That should resolve in the spring, when I transfer schools (Lord willing).
Meanwhile, in lieu of a long-overdue update, I wanted to share with you some of the music I’ve been enjoying. As you probably know, music is a BIG part of my life. I have some playing almost constantly. Combine that with my creative-organizational nature, and you get a huge collection of playlists and compilations.
These aren’t just your run-of-the-mill playlists. I don’t make these public until they are just PERFECT. I find a theme, gather songs together by style and subject, and then put them in an order that causes them to flow one into another. Great for background music.
About a month ago, I donated blood for my mother’s surgery. Since we share so many life-threatening allergies, she could not take blood from the main bank (nor could I donate INTO said main bank). During the experience, I kept remembering the classic Bugs Bunny cartoon “Transylvania 6-5000″. Small wonder.
The experience started with filling out a medical questionnaire, which concluded with an agreement not to share my answers with anyone. I asked the receptionist about this, and she said it had to do with patient confidentiality.
“Might I emphasize, it’s MY patient confidentiality?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
So, in essence, I was agreeing in writing to never share my age, weight, or (albeit nonexistent) history of controlled substance use with anyone ever again.
Someone didn’t think this through.
I cannot tell you the last time a scone made my cry with joy. Yet, that is exactly what happened yesterday.
It isn’t often that I review a restaurant. Most “good” restaurants are pretty standard. It is rare to find one that stands out.
My brother and I had just finished getting some work done on the North Idaho College campus, and Mom suggested that the three of us go get some lunch. A new soup and coffee house had opened up a few blocks away, so we decided to try it out.
We could not have guessed how good it actually would be. In fact, “good” doesn’t even come close to describing Soul Soup and Coffee House.
Confession #1: I’m a brony.
Confession #2: I really do not care what anyone has to say about it.
There’s a weird little stereotype that society has about men my age. We’re supposed to like sports, cars, and pretty girls.
I, on the other hand, have zero coordination, little interest in cars, and the only girls in my inner social circles are family members.
Young adult males are also supposed to like playing video games and drinking beer. I prefer making games (though there are a few I play), and have absolutely no interest in liquor at all.
I like shopping (though I rarely buy anything). I enjoy alleged “chick flicks” like “An Affair to Remember” and “You’ve Got Mail”. I read voraciously. I’m a gardener. I like cooking. And I LOVE watching My Little Pony.
I don’t fit the stereotype, but I’m still a 21-year-old male. There is absolutely no way around that. I plan to marry a woman someday and have a family. I lift weights (though, alas, I couldn’t get to the gym this summer). And I’m a MAJOR Seattle Seahawks fan.
What is it with stereotypes, anyway?
Your story is brilliant. You just know it! It has great plot, well-rounded characters, and your readers can’t put it down.
Or rather, that will be true, once you can actually get your story written. You’re stuck on chapter three, right where you were six months ago.
Does any of this sound familiar?
Chapter 3 is not some random spot for this tar pit (though it occasionally shows up earlier). It’s a fairly common place. I often tell young writers, “The first three chapters are easy.” Why is that?