What I'm Listening To: Ghostly Encounters on the TV.
What I'm Doing: Thinking, reading, watching TV, and putzing around on the internet. (Not all at the same time. Not even I'm that good.)
under the influence
It’s like being drugged. The world starts spinning, and the colours blur together, and everything is more intense. Being in love is like nothing else in the world. You’re up, you’re down, you’re happy, you’re sad, you’re pissed off, you’re jumping off the edge of the world into a vast expanse of nothing and it terrifies you, but at the same time you can’t get enough of it.
When you’re in love, you don’t really see things the same way as other people. It doesn’t matter if the other person is ugly, or short, or anything. People may see the person you love as ‘unworthy’ or ‘wrong’ but it doesn’t matter, because you know what it’s like to feel that love, that overwhelming feeling that just drowns out everything else. It can make a person reckless, or stupid; people have done crazy things for love. People put up with abuse – for love. People will kill – for love. It’s insane, this loss of control. But I’d rather be in love for the rest of my life than take drugs.
It’s basically the same thing, anyway.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Ponyo and Daily Shorts
What I'm Listening To: Tom and Jerry (still)
What I'm Doing: getting ready to go to bed/work on DSR more.
I saw Ponyo today. My first impression of it was "WHAT. THE. FSCK?!"
But then the story actually began to develop, and I got into it, and thought, "WHAT. THE. FSCK!?" still. XDD
Overall, it was MAAAD CUTE! I'd see it again, especially now that I know what it's about. I don't think I would have gone to see it on my own volition, but I'm glad I went.
While I was gathering links for the award thing, I saw something pretty cool on Ghiffi's blog. (I've fallen behind on keeping up with my blogger stuff, so I don't know why I never noticed it before; I always knew she posted art, but I just now realised that she posts a 'daily doodle.')
I've decided I'm going to gank it from her, and turn it into a daily short.
Basically, I'm going to take the thing from Twitter (whose name escapes me at the moment) and turn it into a 100-500 word short each day.
I'll start now.
(edit: the twitter page is Writing Prompt)
looking up
She turned her face up to the sky as the clouds ripped open with a rumble of thunder. Rain poured down around her, soaking her to the bone, but she refused to go inside. Blinking against the drops of water, she stared up into the endless expanse of grey, and imagined herself somewhere else. Anywhere else. The location didn’t matter, as long as she was away.
She pictured herself walking through the rain with someone special, someone who was like her – someone who didn’t mind the water falling from the sky. She didn’t know who it was, or if they even existed. But together, somewhere, they would walk through the damp streets holding hands, and they would cross a beautiful bridge spanning a small river.
At the apex of the bridge, they would pause, turn their faces skyward, and then lean forward and share a special kiss.
What I'm Doing: getting ready to go to bed/work on DSR more.
I saw Ponyo today. My first impression of it was "WHAT. THE. FSCK?!"
But then the story actually began to develop, and I got into it, and thought, "WHAT. THE. FSCK!?" still. XDD
Overall, it was MAAAD CUTE! I'd see it again, especially now that I know what it's about. I don't think I would have gone to see it on my own volition, but I'm glad I went.
While I was gathering links for the award thing, I saw something pretty cool on Ghiffi's blog. (I've fallen behind on keeping up with my blogger stuff, so I don't know why I never noticed it before; I always knew she posted art, but I just now realised that she posts a 'daily doodle.')
I've decided I'm going to gank it from her, and turn it into a daily short.
Basically, I'm going to take the thing from Twitter (whose name escapes me at the moment) and turn it into a 100-500 word short each day.
I'll start now.
(edit: the twitter page is Writing Prompt)
looking up
She turned her face up to the sky as the clouds ripped open with a rumble of thunder. Rain poured down around her, soaking her to the bone, but she refused to go inside. Blinking against the drops of water, she stared up into the endless expanse of grey, and imagined herself somewhere else. Anywhere else. The location didn’t matter, as long as she was away.
She pictured herself walking through the rain with someone special, someone who was like her – someone who didn’t mind the water falling from the sky. She didn’t know who it was, or if they even existed. But together, somewhere, they would walk through the damp streets holding hands, and they would cross a beautiful bridge spanning a small river.
At the apex of the bridge, they would pause, turn their faces skyward, and then lean forward and share a special kiss.
My Very First Award!
What I'm Listening To: Tom and Jerry
What I'm Doing: Outlining DSR.
Jenna from As the Plot Thickens nominated me for the Kreativ Blogger award! My very first blog award! I'm so excited! Thanks sooo much to her for it! I'd give it back, if she hadn't already been nominated herself.
The rules are:
1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might find interesting.
5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.
6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.
7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated (I'll be doing this when I get home later. I don't want to let everybody know until this post has actually been put up, y'know?)
SEVEN THINGS ABOUT ME (That you may or may not find interesting):
1. I'm nocturnal. (Jenna may think this is ganked, but I actually am.) I'm a night-owl - which means I'm at my best at night - and also an insomniac, which means I have difficulty sleeping at night. I don't like sunlight, it hurts my eyes (and this is ganked from Jenna the Werewolf) which leads me to believe that I'm secretly a vampire. Rawr.
2. I collect odd things. Stuffed animals, foreign coins, perfume bottles, key chains, nicknacks (I have a couple of faerie statues, and a tiger, a dragon that glows in the dark... I'm also looking to improve these collections.) Things I find on the ground. (I've got two key cards to something. A hotel, I guess, or a work-place. I found them both months apart, but they're for the same place. People must really hate those cards.) Con badges.
3. I steal shirts and jackets from my friends as 'mementos.' I also replace them with shirts of my own when I can.
4. I prefer to reread the same books over and over than branch out and buy new books. From the library, however, I get whatever catches my interest - which usually includes (if I get ten books) five books that I've read before, and five books that just happened to catch my attention. Sometimes the ratio is 7:3 - seven books I've already read, and just want to reread, and three new books.
5. I hate shopping. But I love new clothes. It's a conundrum.
6. I think that real happiness comes from a new you. Doing something as simple as cutting an inch off my hair can make me happy for days, and when I have the money to buy an entirely new me from the skin out, I get excited like nothing else.
7. I hate watching TV, and movies - unless they're very interesting - rarely hold my interest longer than the first fifteen minutes. I always have the TV on for noise, though, and something to pay attention to when I get bored with whatever I'm doing. I do watch shows on Investigation Discovery, the History Channel, History Internation, and the Science channel, though. (all geeky/nerdy shows.) And recently I've started watching CSI, CSI Miami, and CSI New York whenever I can.
MY NOMINEES (in no particular order):
1. Mami, of Courting Madness
2. Schatzi, of What in Tarnation!?
3. Shady, of Character Assassinations R Us
4. Cheri, of Francophonic Funk
5. Renko, of rare and endangered
6. Jess, of Say What?
7. Ghiffi, of Odyssey
I'll notify them all at some point in the next few days. I'm tired of this now. *lazy/no attention span*
What I'm Doing: Outlining DSR.
Jenna from As the Plot Thickens nominated me for the Kreativ Blogger award! My very first blog award! I'm so excited! Thanks sooo much to her for it! I'd give it back, if she hadn't already been nominated herself.
The rules are:
1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might find interesting.
5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.
6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.
7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated (I'll be doing this when I get home later. I don't want to let everybody know until this post has actually been put up, y'know?)
SEVEN THINGS ABOUT ME (That you may or may not find interesting):
1. I'm nocturnal. (Jenna may think this is ganked, but I actually am.) I'm a night-owl - which means I'm at my best at night - and also an insomniac, which means I have difficulty sleeping at night. I don't like sunlight, it hurts my eyes (and this is ganked from Jenna the Werewolf) which leads me to believe that I'm secretly a vampire. Rawr.
2. I collect odd things. Stuffed animals, foreign coins, perfume bottles, key chains, nicknacks (I have a couple of faerie statues, and a tiger, a dragon that glows in the dark... I'm also looking to improve these collections.) Things I find on the ground. (I've got two key cards to something. A hotel, I guess, or a work-place. I found them both months apart, but they're for the same place. People must really hate those cards.) Con badges.
3. I steal shirts and jackets from my friends as 'mementos.' I also replace them with shirts of my own when I can.
4. I prefer to reread the same books over and over than branch out and buy new books. From the library, however, I get whatever catches my interest - which usually includes (if I get ten books) five books that I've read before, and five books that just happened to catch my attention. Sometimes the ratio is 7:3 - seven books I've already read, and just want to reread, and three new books.
5. I hate shopping. But I love new clothes. It's a conundrum.
6. I think that real happiness comes from a new you. Doing something as simple as cutting an inch off my hair can make me happy for days, and when I have the money to buy an entirely new me from the skin out, I get excited like nothing else.
7. I hate watching TV, and movies - unless they're very interesting - rarely hold my interest longer than the first fifteen minutes. I always have the TV on for noise, though, and something to pay attention to when I get bored with whatever I'm doing. I do watch shows on Investigation Discovery, the History Channel, History Internation, and the Science channel, though. (all geeky/nerdy shows.) And recently I've started watching CSI, CSI Miami, and CSI New York whenever I can.
MY NOMINEES (in no particular order):
1. Mami, of Courting Madness
2. Schatzi, of What in Tarnation!?
3. Shady, of Character Assassinations R Us
4. Cheri, of Francophonic Funk
5. Renko, of rare and endangered
6. Jess, of Say What?
7. Ghiffi, of Odyssey
I'll notify them all at some point in the next few days. I'm tired of this now. *lazy/no attention span*
Eversong LIVES!
What I'm Listening To: Something on Investigation Discovery.
What I'm Doing: Brainstorming for the third novel of the Legends trilogy.
For the longest time, I had absolutely no idea what happened in the third book. I had a very basic sketch outlined in a single paragraph. A 'dark star' (comet) appears in the sky, and with it come monstrous black beasts that are seemingly undefeatable. They are the harbingers of a trio of powerful god-like beings that are looking to turn Eversong into their new home.
That... was it.
That's all I've had. For over a YEAR, I've been struggling to figure out the details.
And then, randomly, the word "Lunamari" popped into my head, and I knew that it was the name of a people who inhabit caverns on the northern continent.
I rolled it around for a few hours, and "Starravayn" followed - the name of said northern continent.
When I first created the map of Eversong, I included pictures of a globe with four continents, of which Eversong is the largest. I knew the southern continent was attached to Eversong by a land bridge, and was called Zen'la, the prison of the Dragon God Draevn. I knew Eversong was in the western hemisphere, but I hadn't the foggiest about the northern or eastern continents. Until now.
One day, I'll get my map scanned and show you my horrendous attempt at cartography.
But for now, the world has a name: Mana'riin. Eversong is - and always has been - just one of the continents. Now it joins Zen'la, Kor'l, and Starravayn.
Eversong is a heavily wooded continent, home to elves and faeries, among others.
Zen'la is a frozen wasteland dominated by a massive mountain called Zen'la'eng (which means something, but I need to reread all my notes - I've forgotten a lot of what I originally wrote down.) which is where Draevn was imprisoned.
Kor'l is in the East, and is a massive desert. I'm not sure who - or what - lives there yet, but a name and geography is more than I had yesterday.
Starravayn is in the far north (if it were Earth, it'd be in the Arctic Circle) and is solid ice (much like Anarctica is.) Beneath the ice, the land is practically hollow, a network of holes and massive caverns. The beings who live there have never seen the surface, and live their entire lives underground.
Even as I'm writing this down, more details are making themselves known. (I can't take credit for creating this; I had nothing to do with it. It's like the information is being sent to me telepathically, which brings to mind one of my favourite quotes: "Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia." - E.L. Doctorow.) I had previously decided to write Return to Eversong for Nano, but the more I think about it, the more excited I am about writing DSR. I may fling RtE out between now and November, and work on DSR for Nano instead.
I feel complete at last, now that I'm writing again.
What I'm Doing: Brainstorming for the third novel of the Legends trilogy.
For the longest time, I had absolutely no idea what happened in the third book. I had a very basic sketch outlined in a single paragraph. A 'dark star' (comet) appears in the sky, and with it come monstrous black beasts that are seemingly undefeatable. They are the harbingers of a trio of powerful god-like beings that are looking to turn Eversong into their new home.
That... was it.
That's all I've had. For over a YEAR, I've been struggling to figure out the details.
And then, randomly, the word "Lunamari" popped into my head, and I knew that it was the name of a people who inhabit caverns on the northern continent.
I rolled it around for a few hours, and "Starravayn" followed - the name of said northern continent.
When I first created the map of Eversong, I included pictures of a globe with four continents, of which Eversong is the largest. I knew the southern continent was attached to Eversong by a land bridge, and was called Zen'la, the prison of the Dragon God Draevn. I knew Eversong was in the western hemisphere, but I hadn't the foggiest about the northern or eastern continents. Until now.
One day, I'll get my map scanned and show you my horrendous attempt at cartography.
But for now, the world has a name: Mana'riin. Eversong is - and always has been - just one of the continents. Now it joins Zen'la, Kor'l, and Starravayn.
Eversong is a heavily wooded continent, home to elves and faeries, among others.
Zen'la is a frozen wasteland dominated by a massive mountain called Zen'la'eng (which means something, but I need to reread all my notes - I've forgotten a lot of what I originally wrote down.) which is where Draevn was imprisoned.
Kor'l is in the East, and is a massive desert. I'm not sure who - or what - lives there yet, but a name and geography is more than I had yesterday.
Starravayn is in the far north (if it were Earth, it'd be in the Arctic Circle) and is solid ice (much like Anarctica is.) Beneath the ice, the land is practically hollow, a network of holes and massive caverns. The beings who live there have never seen the surface, and live their entire lives underground.
Even as I'm writing this down, more details are making themselves known. (I can't take credit for creating this; I had nothing to do with it. It's like the information is being sent to me telepathically, which brings to mind one of my favourite quotes: "Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia." - E.L. Doctorow.) I had previously decided to write Return to Eversong for Nano, but the more I think about it, the more excited I am about writing DSR. I may fling RtE out between now and November, and work on DSR for Nano instead.
I feel complete at last, now that I'm writing again.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Mock Covers!
What I'm Listening To: Practical Magic
What I'm Doing: Watching Practical Magic and trying to think of something interesting to do.
A while back, I doodled up what I imagined the covers of the Eversong trilogy would look like. Unfortunately, I'm no artist, and it came out looking... rather silly.
So, when a friend of mine on the Quill and Ink Forum posted the mock-up covers of her novels, I was intrigued.
And immediately started work on my own.
Lo, behold! A sneak peak at the covers of the Legends of Eversong Trilogy!
What I'm Doing: Watching Practical Magic and trying to think of something interesting to do.
A while back, I doodled up what I imagined the covers of the Eversong trilogy would look like. Unfortunately, I'm no artist, and it came out looking... rather silly.
So, when a friend of mine on the Quill and Ink Forum posted the mock-up covers of her novels, I was intrigued.
And immediately started work on my own.
Lo, behold! A sneak peak at the covers of the Legends of Eversong Trilogy!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Mystery
What I'm Listening To: Alexander Rybak - Foolin'
What I'm Doing: Reading. A lot.
This is probably going to be quick and dirty; I felt guilty for not posting anything for nearly a month, and I just had a thought that I felt deserved to be written down.
I'm reading fanfics at the moment, and this particular one is by a 'big name author' in the fandom. That said, I expected her to be really fantastic.
It's... okay, but it lead to my complaint.
There's no mystery. It's a novel-length fanfic (over 98k in words) but so far there's been no 'page-turning' to it. It's just... 'fact. This happens. That happens. He's bored. He's sleeping with someone to stave off boredom. He's spying. Here he is. They meet.'
There's no 'what is he doing here? Why did that happen? Who was that? What's going to happen next?"
No mystery!
It's a strange thing to realise, that I'm actively becoming a better writer; I can see it easily, when looking at my writing from several years ago, versus now. Even when looking at more recent things Pre-Book, versus Post-Book. (fanfics I wrote before I attempted Eversong and Eden's Gate as opposed to what I've written since those two novels.) But to KNOW that I'm seeing what makes a bad writer, or a 'not-good' writer, and to be able to apply it actively to myself, is a strange feeling.
What I'm Doing: Reading. A lot.
This is probably going to be quick and dirty; I felt guilty for not posting anything for nearly a month, and I just had a thought that I felt deserved to be written down.
I'm reading fanfics at the moment, and this particular one is by a 'big name author' in the fandom. That said, I expected her to be really fantastic.
It's... okay, but it lead to my complaint.
There's no mystery. It's a novel-length fanfic (over 98k in words) but so far there's been no 'page-turning' to it. It's just... 'fact. This happens. That happens. He's bored. He's sleeping with someone to stave off boredom. He's spying. Here he is. They meet.'
There's no 'what is he doing here? Why did that happen? Who was that? What's going to happen next?"
No mystery!
It's a strange thing to realise, that I'm actively becoming a better writer; I can see it easily, when looking at my writing from several years ago, versus now. Even when looking at more recent things Pre-Book, versus Post-Book. (fanfics I wrote before I attempted Eversong and Eden's Gate as opposed to what I've written since those two novels.) But to KNOW that I'm seeing what makes a bad writer, or a 'not-good' writer, and to be able to apply it actively to myself, is a strange feeling.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Inevitable.
What I'm Listening To: Alexander Rybak - Dolphin
What I'm Doing: Writing - fanfics, admittedly, but better than nothing.
Although this new-found habit of mine will undoubtedly stand me in good stead while writing and revising, at the moment it's new enough to be a nuisance.
"Why?"
I finished a particularly well-written fic, and suddenly wanted to write more of my own. I'd left off with this:
Without waiting for a response, he ducked out of the other's bedroom and made himself busy in the kitchen.
Looking at it, I was thinking, "he's making tea. What does one do when you make tea in an unfamiliar flat?"
Poke through all the cabinets, of course. I added:
Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops,
and then stopped there and stared at it.
Why is he making a ton of noise? He's afraid that his partner is going to kill him and stash his body somewhere, so why is he making enough noise to cover up the sounds of someone sneaking up behind him?
It drew me up short for a moment, and I found myself unable to continue until I'd answered the question. He's afraid. This satisfied my inner critic, and I continued the paragraph as:
Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops, releasing the nervous tension he'd been feeling since arriving on the other man's doorstep.
Will this make me a better writer? Indubitably. Will it irritate the hell out of me, stopping myself every few paragraphs to make sure I'm explaining it to my own satisfaction? It's inevitable.
What I'm Doing: Writing - fanfics, admittedly, but better than nothing.
Although this new-found habit of mine will undoubtedly stand me in good stead while writing and revising, at the moment it's new enough to be a nuisance.
"Why?"
I finished a particularly well-written fic, and suddenly wanted to write more of my own. I'd left off with this:
Without waiting for a response, he ducked out of the other's bedroom and made himself busy in the kitchen.
Looking at it, I was thinking, "he's making tea. What does one do when you make tea in an unfamiliar flat?"
Poke through all the cabinets, of course. I added:
Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops,
and then stopped there and stared at it.
Why is he making a ton of noise? He's afraid that his partner is going to kill him and stash his body somewhere, so why is he making enough noise to cover up the sounds of someone sneaking up behind him?
It drew me up short for a moment, and I found myself unable to continue until I'd answered the question. He's afraid. This satisfied my inner critic, and I continued the paragraph as:
Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops, releasing the nervous tension he'd been feeling since arriving on the other man's doorstep.
Will this make me a better writer? Indubitably. Will it irritate the hell out of me, stopping myself every few paragraphs to make sure I'm explaining it to my own satisfaction? It's inevitable.
A bit of a(n) (r)amble
What I'm Listening To: Gerard McMann - Cry Little Sister (Theme from The Lost Boys)
What I'm Doing: Still reading fanfics, thinking about sleep, and now building another novel in my head.
This makes three in the queue now, (and I just imagined Mami smacking me upside the head for using the word 'queue' and how the first thing she did with Eversong was go through and pick out all my British spellings.) but I'm really excited over it. The line, I mean, and not Mami popping me in the head for not writing like the American that I am. I have to finish Eden, and it's not so much a burden - I want to finish it, not like in the past when I've just ... dropped whatever project I was working on for a newer, shinier one - but it simply refuses to finish itself. Scenes from the end are there, but I can't get them into any sort of respectable order, much less put them into words.
After I finish Eden, I've got three to choose from. I can work on Return to Eversong, the second the Legends trilogy, or Wish (the more I think on it, the more I prefer WishMaker or The WishMaker), or the Vampire Novel that's been haunting me for several months now.
Every so often, it'll present itself to me unexpectedly, and something new will come out. At first, I thought it was going to be about a vampire-hunter, and then I decided it would work better from the point of view of the vampire himself - in which there will be no clandestine romances between the vampire and a teenage girl, much to the horror of all Twilight fans in the world looking for the next Bella-To-Be. And I think I've said this before, but the very first line of the novel presented itself to me as I was listening to Cry Little Sister; it's going to begin I was twenty five years old when I died.
This serves multiple purposes. Backstory, a hook, and most obviously, the beginning, which is often the hardest part for me to get out. It also takes the action away from everything I've written or considered so far; Ally notwithstanding, he'll be the oldest character I've written yet (Vicky is twenty two at the beginning of Eversong, Zander's twenty. Ally's twenty nine, nearly thirty, Riley is in his teens - sixteen or seventeen. Nalia's nineteen.) But Perfect is on the backburner; I used to describe it as a stew pot in my mind - my muses were tossing things into it, but for the most part it was just sitting there and simmering. And I don't quite feel ready to deal with everything that's going to have to go into Perfect - it's going to be more work than Eversong and Eden's Gate put together, simply for the fact that it's not a straight line. It's going to take all sorts of twists and turns and curves and unexpected side routes, and until I figure out what those side routes are, I'm not going to be able to write it.
What I'm Doing: Still reading fanfics, thinking about sleep, and now building another novel in my head.
This makes three in the queue now, (and I just imagined Mami smacking me upside the head for using the word 'queue' and how the first thing she did with Eversong was go through and pick out all my British spellings.) but I'm really excited over it. The line, I mean, and not Mami popping me in the head for not writing like the American that I am. I have to finish Eden, and it's not so much a burden - I want to finish it, not like in the past when I've just ... dropped whatever project I was working on for a newer, shinier one - but it simply refuses to finish itself. Scenes from the end are there, but I can't get them into any sort of respectable order, much less put them into words.
After I finish Eden, I've got three to choose from. I can work on Return to Eversong, the second the Legends trilogy, or Wish (the more I think on it, the more I prefer WishMaker or The WishMaker), or the Vampire Novel that's been haunting me for several months now.
Every so often, it'll present itself to me unexpectedly, and something new will come out. At first, I thought it was going to be about a vampire-hunter, and then I decided it would work better from the point of view of the vampire himself - in which there will be no clandestine romances between the vampire and a teenage girl, much to the horror of all Twilight fans in the world looking for the next Bella-To-Be. And I think I've said this before, but the very first line of the novel presented itself to me as I was listening to Cry Little Sister; it's going to begin I was twenty five years old when I died.
This serves multiple purposes. Backstory, a hook, and most obviously, the beginning, which is often the hardest part for me to get out. It also takes the action away from everything I've written or considered so far; Ally notwithstanding, he'll be the oldest character I've written yet (Vicky is twenty two at the beginning of Eversong, Zander's twenty. Ally's twenty nine, nearly thirty, Riley is in his teens - sixteen or seventeen. Nalia's nineteen.) But Perfect is on the backburner; I used to describe it as a stew pot in my mind - my muses were tossing things into it, but for the most part it was just sitting there and simmering. And I don't quite feel ready to deal with everything that's going to have to go into Perfect - it's going to be more work than Eversong and Eden's Gate put together, simply for the fact that it's not a straight line. It's going to take all sorts of twists and turns and curves and unexpected side routes, and until I figure out what those side routes are, I'm not going to be able to write it.
Frustration
What I'm Listening To: Tiziano Ferro - Ed Ero Conentissimo
What I'm Doing: reading fanfics, and considering sleep.
I've been reading a lot of fanfics lately, trying to recapture the writing spark. Some are so-so, and some are just so ... utterly amazing. I get completely sucked into them, and it's only afterwards, when I'm sobbing into a tissue over such a happy/bittersweet ending, that I think, How do they do it?
How do they write characters that make me feel so much for them? What is it about that story that sucked me in so hard? Why am I crying right now, how did they DO it?
I'm proud of myself for these questions. Because I know it means I'm asking myself, How can I do it, too?
But it doesn't lessen the frustration of not being able to pick out the moment when they turn generic characters into real people that I feel for. I foresee a lot of rereads in my future as I try to decipher this little mystery.
What I'm Doing: reading fanfics, and considering sleep.
I've been reading a lot of fanfics lately, trying to recapture the writing spark. Some are so-so, and some are just so ... utterly amazing. I get completely sucked into them, and it's only afterwards, when I'm sobbing into a tissue over such a happy/bittersweet ending, that I think, How do they do it?
How do they write characters that make me feel so much for them? What is it about that story that sucked me in so hard? Why am I crying right now, how did they DO it?
I'm proud of myself for these questions. Because I know it means I'm asking myself, How can I do it, too?
But it doesn't lessen the frustration of not being able to pick out the moment when they turn generic characters into real people that I feel for. I foresee a lot of rereads in my future as I try to decipher this little mystery.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Mortality in fiction.
What I'm Listening To: Royksopp - Remind Me
What I'm Doing: Reading fanfics and being generally angsty.
Uh... some rather major spoilers for a novel I haven't written yet. If you're worried about it, don't read this next little paragraph.
I recently came to the conclusion that the main character in my next novel is going to die. I don't know if she's going to die victorious, or if it's going to be a total win on the side of evil.
THE SPOILER ENDS HERE.
I've been reading fanfics recently to get myself motivated for writing, and because I'm utterly sick of reading and rereading my books. Unfortunately, I seem to have chosen to read an author who writes uplifting and yet horribly depressing stories. The first one I read involved a murder/suicide plot, with the intention for eternal torture to be carried out after death. (I admit it, I'm a Harry Potter fan. I read and write more fics than I ought to. But because it's Harry Potter fanfiction, you can do a lot more with it than you could with a 'real life' thing, what with all the magic.) That said, the perpetrator planned to capture his enemy in a portrait for the torture, but he died before he had a chance to implement his nefarious scheme. He then became trapped in the very portrait he'd planned for his revenge, and he became friends with the person whom he was going to kill. Over the years in the story, they fell in love, and both ended happily in the portraits after the death of the other. It was such a bittersweet ending that I cried for about fifteen minutes.
Immediately following that, I began reading a fic in which Harry finds out he's going to die of cancer and he's got a year to live. Immediately, it struck me, because I've always been horribly aware of my own mortality.
My mother died when I was twelve years old. She left behind her new husband (my stepdad) a four month old baby (my brother) and myself. (as a result, I'm rather testy when people make 'your mom' jokes to me.) She had an aneurysm in her brain (one of the blood vessels in her brain burst, for those that don't know) and while she was in the hospital after surgery, she had a stroke (a blood clot in the vessels of the brain. I'm not trying to insult anyone here, but it wasn't until a few years ago that I even found out exactly what a stroke was - I'd known she had one, but I didn't know what it was.) and died. She was only thirty four years old.
It's been ten years since then. This October will make it eleven years. As a sort of traumatic reaction to losing her so suddenly when I was so young, my mind blocked off nearly all of my memories of her. I wouldn't recall what she looked like if not for the pictures I cling to, and I can't remember what her voice sounded like, or anything. But it also means that I just literally don't remember much of my childhood. I don't remember things like my seventh birthday, or the details of any Christmases, or who I went to school with, nothing. I call it traumatic amnesia, but there's probably a more technical/proper term for it. I've always been fascinated with amnesia as a condition, but it wasn't until last year that I applied it to myself and recognised that I had amnesia. Clearly, I remember who I am, and I remember her name, and whatnot, but I don't remember any details of my early childhood. It's not until I was well into high school that I have any sort of linear memories and not just scattered snapshots in my brain.
But back to the point of this blog entry. Just a few months after my mum died (I refuse to use euphemisms like passed away - she didn't pass on, she didn't go away, she died.) my grandfather died of an aneurysm in his heart.
Just a year or so after that, a boy in my town was hit by a car and killed. He went to my school, he was around my age.
In 2oo5 my grandmother died of cancer.
But (naturally) the death of my mother affected me the strongest. Because she was so young when she died, I've never really considered living past thirty, myself. I don't intend to kill myself when I reach 31 or anything so stupid. I want to live past thirty, but I never really thought that I would. I still don't. Anything I plan to do - I plan to do it within the next ten years. I'm only twenty three right now, but I intend to pack a lot of living into the next seven to ten years. I want to see the world in that time, because I'm so aware that life can end in an instant. Billy - the boy who was hit by a car - was riding his bike down the highway, on his way back from seeing a girl he'd met at the local fair. He liked her, they may have dated. He certainly didn't intend to die when he did. But in an instant, his life was gone and there was no more Billy Black. My mum had a twelve year old daughter, a new husband, and a four month old baby. The last thing she wanted to do was die when she did. She never got to see me through high school, something I'd always counted on her being there for. She was never with me when I dated, or around to show off embarrassing baby pictures of me in the bath. She never got a chance to see Alex grow up. He's going into middle school this year. Sixth grade. But there's still a possibility that he won't make it through. There's a chance that he'll never grow up. There's a chance that we could all die tomorrow, and most people don't think of it. They get up, they go to work, they trudge through life like it's a burden, never realising how precious it is until it's gone.
I'm not nearly so arrogant as to believe that I'm impressive or interesting enough to write an autobiography that people will want to read, but I'm going to write it, or something similar to it, anyway. I want to leave something of me behind when I go, something that says, I WAS HERE! I lived! I breathed! I loved!
But it will be, inevitably, a story about death.
What I'm Doing: Reading fanfics and being generally angsty.
Uh... some rather major spoilers for a novel I haven't written yet. If you're worried about it, don't read this next little paragraph.
I recently came to the conclusion that the main character in my next novel is going to die. I don't know if she's going to die victorious, or if it's going to be a total win on the side of evil.
THE SPOILER ENDS HERE.
I've been reading fanfics recently to get myself motivated for writing, and because I'm utterly sick of reading and rereading my books. Unfortunately, I seem to have chosen to read an author who writes uplifting and yet horribly depressing stories. The first one I read involved a murder/suicide plot, with the intention for eternal torture to be carried out after death. (I admit it, I'm a Harry Potter fan. I read and write more fics than I ought to. But because it's Harry Potter fanfiction, you can do a lot more with it than you could with a 'real life' thing, what with all the magic.) That said, the perpetrator planned to capture his enemy in a portrait for the torture, but he died before he had a chance to implement his nefarious scheme. He then became trapped in the very portrait he'd planned for his revenge, and he became friends with the person whom he was going to kill. Over the years in the story, they fell in love, and both ended happily in the portraits after the death of the other. It was such a bittersweet ending that I cried for about fifteen minutes.
Immediately following that, I began reading a fic in which Harry finds out he's going to die of cancer and he's got a year to live. Immediately, it struck me, because I've always been horribly aware of my own mortality.
My mother died when I was twelve years old. She left behind her new husband (my stepdad) a four month old baby (my brother) and myself. (as a result, I'm rather testy when people make 'your mom' jokes to me.) She had an aneurysm in her brain (one of the blood vessels in her brain burst, for those that don't know) and while she was in the hospital after surgery, she had a stroke (a blood clot in the vessels of the brain. I'm not trying to insult anyone here, but it wasn't until a few years ago that I even found out exactly what a stroke was - I'd known she had one, but I didn't know what it was.) and died. She was only thirty four years old.
It's been ten years since then. This October will make it eleven years. As a sort of traumatic reaction to losing her so suddenly when I was so young, my mind blocked off nearly all of my memories of her. I wouldn't recall what she looked like if not for the pictures I cling to, and I can't remember what her voice sounded like, or anything. But it also means that I just literally don't remember much of my childhood. I don't remember things like my seventh birthday, or the details of any Christmases, or who I went to school with, nothing. I call it traumatic amnesia, but there's probably a more technical/proper term for it. I've always been fascinated with amnesia as a condition, but it wasn't until last year that I applied it to myself and recognised that I had amnesia. Clearly, I remember who I am, and I remember her name, and whatnot, but I don't remember any details of my early childhood. It's not until I was well into high school that I have any sort of linear memories and not just scattered snapshots in my brain.
But back to the point of this blog entry. Just a few months after my mum died (I refuse to use euphemisms like passed away - she didn't pass on, she didn't go away, she died.) my grandfather died of an aneurysm in his heart.
Just a year or so after that, a boy in my town was hit by a car and killed. He went to my school, he was around my age.
In 2oo5 my grandmother died of cancer.
But (naturally) the death of my mother affected me the strongest. Because she was so young when she died, I've never really considered living past thirty, myself. I don't intend to kill myself when I reach 31 or anything so stupid. I want to live past thirty, but I never really thought that I would. I still don't. Anything I plan to do - I plan to do it within the next ten years. I'm only twenty three right now, but I intend to pack a lot of living into the next seven to ten years. I want to see the world in that time, because I'm so aware that life can end in an instant. Billy - the boy who was hit by a car - was riding his bike down the highway, on his way back from seeing a girl he'd met at the local fair. He liked her, they may have dated. He certainly didn't intend to die when he did. But in an instant, his life was gone and there was no more Billy Black. My mum had a twelve year old daughter, a new husband, and a four month old baby. The last thing she wanted to do was die when she did. She never got to see me through high school, something I'd always counted on her being there for. She was never with me when I dated, or around to show off embarrassing baby pictures of me in the bath. She never got a chance to see Alex grow up. He's going into middle school this year. Sixth grade. But there's still a possibility that he won't make it through. There's a chance that he'll never grow up. There's a chance that we could all die tomorrow, and most people don't think of it. They get up, they go to work, they trudge through life like it's a burden, never realising how precious it is until it's gone.
I'm not nearly so arrogant as to believe that I'm impressive or interesting enough to write an autobiography that people will want to read, but I'm going to write it, or something similar to it, anyway. I want to leave something of me behind when I go, something that says, I WAS HERE! I lived! I breathed! I loved!
But it will be, inevitably, a story about death.
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