Journal

May. 8th, 2011 10:59 pm
 Right now, I am trying to wait for inspiration to fall out of the sky. It isn't working very well. For the past three nights now (including this one), I have been blocked on Atalanta. This is not a good sign.... )
 So, today has been better; much better by yards and yards and yards. 

Firstly, it's a Thursday, which means a couple of things. A) my weekend has technically begun (I only have one class tomorrow, and I'm working my last hours tomorrow as well, which I am kind of excited about, because it means I'm going to have more time next week to finish out my final projects on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday so...YAY) B) I had my two favorite classes today, which are acting and creative writing, which I feel both went rather well, though they usually do C) my group for my comm project met again, and we have just about finished up our project, all of the big parts anyway. I think we'll still have to do some fine tunning on Monday when we get together to practice presenting, but it is for the most part FINISHED. HUZZAH!!!!

Secondly: I'm not sure if I reported on this in my journal, but I entered an inkpop writing contest a little while ago which had the prompt of a revamping a myth or fairy tale or even folklore (the prompt was based off of a book called Starcrossed). I decided since I had my piece Rand of the Norse, which was the first htink I posted for this project, if you will recall), and I had submitted it to workshop and had my professor look over it, that I would do a quick revision and submit it. Then I got a comment the other day (yesterday I think...) saying that my writing was a "chore" to read and that I should "choke" my readers with a hook. (Luckily, I had finished reading The Late American Novel only days before and in it, there was something comparing pop lit which uses more hook than good writing to one night stands, so I was not that perturbed by the comment itself. It was still kind of a jerky thing to say, especially using the word "chore").

So...today I log into my email to check for anthology submissions and I find a wonderous email saying that my story was one of the two winners. I FREAKED! I seriously jumped up and shouted an explitive. After about thirty seconds of bouncing in my chair and repeating said explitive, I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my phone and my keys and ran across to the other dorm to explode onto my friends that I had won. I was apparently so quick and noisy, I scared the opossum rooting through a bin by the outer dorm door. Sorry Opossum! Then when I returned to my room, I reread my winning email, and once I found out that I was allowed to talk about winning, posted a message to facebook. After spending some time exploring the books from HarperTeen that I could pick from as my prizes, I also went and checked out the other winning story. 

I haven't had a chance to read through it yet, but the comments it had went something like: this was hard to understand. Some people gave validation by saying it felt a little rushed, but one person actually mentioned that they only skimmed the story....Okay, so....I think inkpop might have just invalidated itself by the people who frequent these things and their lousy critiques. One of the things I am noticing about writing is that you almost have to be good at critique as well, because learning how to formulate good critique not only enables you to help other writers, but allows you to learn which critique you should take in your own wiritng. Because there is some of the critique, which in the end, you just have to throw out, because you didn't feel it fit the story or because it was not good critique.

I actually replied back to the person who wrote on my story and well, I didn't really critique their critique, but I tried my best to be respectful of this person's opinion. And I think that's what it comes down to: respect for another person's work even if you don't understand or it can get confusing. Almost about the respect for someone's writing, is reasoning. Give reasons why you feel it's confusing, where you specifically and over all feel confused. Or why you feel the piece needs work in any area. If the person is a beginning writer, try to give them feedback on the more baser things and explain, explain your choices very thoroughly, because other wise, you aren't really helping them (this is what my 141 creative writing class taught me at least).

ALSO: I feel that I have learened how to take critique really well. Senselessness I do not like. My mom actually really upset me because she asked if she could read it and then stopped because she felt it was "profane." I do swear in this, but it was only once. I actually warned her about the subject matter, that it's about a gay, demi-god, and she still agreed to read it. So it kind of bothered me that she said she "couldn't" finish. It really bothered me. REALLY bothered. That and a couple of other comments she made. But that was senselessness, critique is vastly different and, it's own way, lends support to the writing.

But as for the rest of the year; I feel like I have so much less to do now that the professors are assigning less of the smaller assignments and letting us focus on our projects. Also getting the major comm project out of the way really helped my stress levels go down. So yeah for bed tonight. Anyway, so yeah, I have a lot of projects to do, but somehow they all feel managable some how. I think I'm going to go and try to write about a thousand words of fiction and see how that goes.

Jorunal

Apr. 27th, 2011 11:35 pm
 Meh....meh...meh! MEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

So, my comm professor decided to assign us a major project just about two week and a half ago, and we only really got to do anything with it last week, because we had to create a survey and then let him look at last week. So we had a bunch of good sports who filled out our surveys and now we had to compile all of the information and start a five to six page paper today and we're going to have to finish it tomorrow. We are actual one of the most proactive groups, but we have to turn all of this in by this coming Tuesday night. I'm debating my comm major because of this project. People are physcially straining themselves because of this project. I don't think I'm going to, but I'm definately going make sure that I get the details of all of my projects next semester so I can start them way early next semester, because getting all this together a couple of weeks before the end of semester when I have to finish up all of my other final projects for the end of the semester.

Most of them are fairly complete, but my creative writing teacher, whom I love and is going to be very flexable because she does not want to cause us any pain, but we still have to make a portfolio for our class as well as our anthology. Then I have to learn a scene, which admitadly, I haven't really been working on and that my partner and I are going to hash out on Friday night and gah...I'm just so sleepy and I feel like I'm not getting enough done. I also have a project I'm starting in math, but my math teacher is being really good about it and my art teacher really wants to help us out there too and try and do our final projects in parts (which means no three hour test on Saturday morning! more time to pack!).

Once again, not to mention, I still have to do a lot of scholarships if I want to come back next year, and I just feel like I don't have enough time if I want to sleep and get things done and just live and do everything. And I still have to do this critique and abstract for Comm. Goesh I really hate the end of the year and there are so many events to go to, and I feel like I gave to go to some of them to support some of them (and I couldn't go to one tonight which I feel terrible about). Grr. Grrrrr!!!

And I can't write. I didn't have writer's block this morning, i was writing just fine, so this project is giving me writer's block. I hate this. I really do, because I'm up late writing because I know I have to do this for myself, just like I had to write that terrible part of Atalanta I'm going to show you have this. At least I got some kind of word count out of that and I feel bad for thinking about it like that, but it's true, I'm writing to write at this point and I am hungry because I staid up this late.

I don't really even have enough creative energy to write this journey. So I think I'm going to do something that you shouldn't kind of do as a writer. I think I'm going to write summaries.

So...I have this list of fanfictions I wanted to write after NaNoWriMo last year and I have cross a few of them off of the list, but there's one I kind of want to write about Power Rangers: RPM. It's about Ziggy Grover because he's my favorite character and because he became the series's butt monkey. I have this kind of idea that Ziggy is probably good at some things, just not fighting. He's probably a closet academic in like Enligh or something. Or at least that's one of my theories.

The other involves magic.

Yes, magic, because I think if machines were going to take over the world (which they did in RPM), magical people would be some of the first people to notice, because I think magicals, especially speculative magicals, could feel the sort of energy change that would happen when something like machine's taking over the world. But see there's another thing about being responsible magicals, because if I were a magical and if I knew that a machine could take over my body just by adding some metal to my bones and injecting some virus into me (which the machines can do in Power Rangers RPM), I would not want them to target me, especially if I could manipulate energy in such away that might give the machine's a huge advantage. So I would stop using magic and go under ground.

This would of course cause many problems for the magicals, such as not being able to defend themselves, and weakening their bodies, which were always strengthened by magic before. So, if Ziggy were a magical he would be kind of weak and unable to do much while he was not allowed to do magic. I'm not sure how Ziggy get's involved with the Cartels (which he gets involved with them), but i think he's going to be spying on them, for even the government, or the magicals.

But I take it one step forward. In Corinth City, there is the largest magic district in the world (well, when there was a world), and Ziggy's family was actually very prominate in the magical community and he was one of the voices leading proceedures for what should happen when and if the machines took over the world. So, he was actually elected the king of the Magical distric of Corinth

I'm not sure who to pair him with in this. Because he goes out side of Corinth almost on purpose in this, and I almost want him with Scott or Dillon...maybe both, but he deffinately sneaks back into Corinth with out anyone really noticing that he does and with Dillon too. There are also watches involved because Ziggy makes watches to identify his friends and people.

Meh, I still don't have enough to turn this into you. I'm tired and hungry and I just want to go to bed, but I still have to read some mostly fifty pages after this. i guess I'm also glad that it isn't cold outside, becaue I'm up in the common room, and the door to the patio leaks air something aweful. And I am glad I have room in my schedule to sleep in tomorrow, though I really don't like to use it. Now I'm wondering what sort of tricks I could pull off to increase my word count. Because i have just about two hundred words left to write and I just want to go to sleep.

I'm watching Mythbusters, and it's cool, but I just can't think of much more to say and I still need probably about one hundred more words to even think about stopping for tonight. I just don't want to write right now, and I just don't know waht to say...God, even if I couldn't write fiction, I can usually talk about me for two thousand words. And gah! Gah! Well, I do have some stuff to look forward to this weekend, but I'm just worried that I can't do enough to get done with anything this week or weekend.

Okay, I'm almost done, i just need eigthy more words and then I can be done and almost go to sleep and they're blowing up a pine tree on Mythbusters. That's a little interesting. Okay, they didn't split the pine tree. Done for now I think. Sleep soon. Night.

GAH! Not yet! HOW IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME! I JUST WANT TO SLEEP? HOW WAS THAT NOT EIGHTY WORDS...?! THAT LOOKS LIKE EIGHTY WORDS TO ME AND THIS SURE AS HECK BETTER BE FIFTY WORDS, BECAUSE I JUST WANT TO SKIM MY BOOK AND GO TO BED, PLEASE LET ME GO TO SLEEP!!!

Thank you...
 So...I feel like I've been complaining a lot lately, but I also feel like there is a lot to complain about. I think maybe me complaining about the stuff to complain about is worse than the fact that there is a lot going on in my life right now, but all the same, this is kind of therapy for me right now (still haven't found time in that schedule of mine to go to health services...I need to look up their schedule). I am also highly doubtful that I'm going to an upswing in my schedule until after reading day--scratch that, untill after I finished my last final. Which means that I should have all of that Saturday and then most of the Sunday to pack!! Yay... Can I just black out for the next couple of weeks and wake up and have everything perfectly finished? Please? No...not speculative enough I suppose.

I do have a speculative phrase I came up with today that I would like to ponder before I go into some of the same things I've been talking about for a while. I would like to present to you: battle ready combat nerds... I really rather like this phrase. I think these nerds may be involved in some sort of high school club that combats some supernatural occurances, but are still seen as just plain old nerds to the rest of their high school (due to some clever clark kenting). I think the battle ready, combat nerds will have to wait until after at least the first season of Atalanta: Superwoman is finished.

And yes, I am refering to the parts of her story as seasons rather than as books because, well, it feels more like a tv show season than anything else. I wouldn't want to spoil anything for my non-existant readers (oh rats, no writing non-linearly...fiddle sticks) but I do have a second season planned for after Atalanta (and now Strike) find the Superhero Collective, and I also have many other heroes planned to show up in the series. I'm not telling you whether Natalie lives and dies though...I think the answer however might surprise you. Oh, and I also know where the story ends as well! So now it's just a matter of how we end up there.

I don't think I've talked enough on the journey about how I got the idea for Atalanta. As I mentioned, I read Ink Stained Amazons and Cinematic Warriors some weeks ago and I think that was the last part of a perfect storm culminating in my mind. I had really been wanting to write a new hero story (I will go back and finish my old hero story, because I believe that one is of merit as well, but it's just on the back burner until I can figure out how it wants to be told), but I just wasn't sure what the permesis was going to be. As a sort of rule, I try to stay away from super strength as the power for my primary characters and protagonists, because I feel like that's been hacked and rehacked a lot.

Then in got to me, and I realized that I had yet to rehack it. More importantly, there has never been a central, focal, superwoman. Now let me explain what I mean by that, because this idea is really at the core of the thesis in Ink Stained Amazons. What I mean by that is that many of the female characters who have super strength some how are never the focus in group comic books. On their own and with the right writers, they do pretty well for themselves, but together in a co-sexual group? The focus is usually on the superman. And look at the examples of superwomen that we have from DC comics (my prime catidate for satire and hacking): Wonder Woman, Supergirl, and Superwoman.

Wonder Woman is probably one of the best examples DC has to offer, as she has been, mostly found to be a strong, independant woman who can make her own decisions and hold her own with the boys. But even she has been used as a device on occations and portrayed as a simpering girl who want to be rescued.

Then there is Supergirl, for the sake of this, let's refer to Kara Zor-El's character. While not exactly derogatory, Kara often and almost always plays second fiddle to Superman. While this isn't a bad thing, and she has had her own run in comics, she is often pictured as the lesser super person, probably not just for being a girl (age and experience often factor in, but the comparison in my mind still has some validity).

And then there's the actual character called Superwoman. While this sometimes refers to Lois Lane and other, good characters, the one who sticks out most in my mind is the Crime Syndicate superwoman (who is in some contiuities Lois Lane, but also very, very evil). She's psychotic, and quite frankily just a bad representation of women. Especially superwoman (though she is well written along side her evil cohorts...). But even then she still bows, in a way to Ultraman, and in someways Owlman.

And please, do not get me started on their outfits. Boob windows not necessary, but some pants might help ladies.

So I wanted to write the central, super powered character as a female and see what happened. I think Atalanta is coming along nicely, and I feel like I'm really invested and interested in seeing the way the journey unfolds as I take it.

Well, that was a nice talk about writing. I feel a little more focused now. Well, let's talk about a little reading to balance it out.

So a couple of weeks ago Emily and I got left at breakfast together. This is not a bad thing, nor does this story have a punch line. But we got to talking and Emily asked if she could bounce an idea off of me. I said sure, because my friends and I are all fairly bounce and like helping each other out with ideas. Well, Emily's idea was a little different. She had noticed how there were books that she felt were essential to any reading diet that many of her friends had not read.

In fact, she noticed that many of us were of the same opinion about a lot of our favorite books. I could think of a few of my favorites that my friends hadn't read and became intrigued by the thought of it. So, Emily continued and told me about an idea she had about a reading "contest" that we could do between all of our first year writing and reading buddies (some seniors got mixed in there...'cause we love them). In this contest, we each suggest five books that we feel our friends have not read. Then, from the list of books the participate has not read, she tries to get the highest percentage of reads in.

We spent some time working out some kinks and are debating a points system, and are thinking of moving the whole thing from Facebook to a hosting forum, just for viewing purposes.

Now this is a really good idea. I like this idea, and it will help me with Summer reading ideas and things, because I was just planning to go through the library and pick out books to read and simply read them (which has worked well for me so far at college), but the thing is, I think we have too many books for me to do that. So I'm wondering if I should up my per day page count to something higher, or simply try and get through half a book a day. There are also problems with this as it takes away some of the fun and I might not be able to do this, being that I will probably start working and all this summer. So...I'm just wondering how the two projects are going to overlap I guess. ooo...just had a thought, be right back!

Okay, just added a comment to our facebook group asking when we were thinking about ending this. Anyway. I'm also wondering if I should count them seperately and read two books at once, which would be...interesting to say the least. I think I might get made fun of a little for being a book nerd, but that's okay, in fact it's better than okay. I like books and I like reading. I'm a book nerd.

Moving on.

I shall tell you about my diet plans. Not diet in a scary way, just how I plan to change a lot of my eating habits. I want to start trying to loose one or two pounds every week. That means that over summer I'm going to try and loose twenty pounds of fat and I want to keep doing this in the coming fall. To do this, I am implementing several steps of a plan. 1: begin to eat healthily during the summer so I get used to it and like it, 1b: get my parents on board with this, really really on board with it, so they can help, 2: exercise like dickesonian literature, that is to say, a lot 2b: control my exercise habits and work up to things, hopefully to something like parkour (though that is in a very far distance), 3: get off of my meal plan, because it's the biggest reason why I've gained forty to fifty pounds in nine months 4(though more like .5): talk to my PCM to see what are good ideas and good ways to go about them (and to get off of that whole meal plan thing). 5: Get a bike with a large basket to ride to Kroger for groceries when I should return to school, 6: continue built up habits when I return to school. 7: Ween myself off of chocolate, because I think that has gone far enough.

Yes, so this is my general plan. I want to take things slow, but at the same time I just want to jump in. And I don't want to jump into a whole lot. Seriously, it has to do with that whole fear of falling thing that I have going on (8: get over fear of falling, it's bad for the whole exercise thing). Hopefully job will help me maybe loose some weight, but I kind of want a books job, which could be useful as weight lifting....

Writing is good for me. Ideas are good for me, because I just feel so relaxed right now and I don't want to complain anymore. I don't want to do anything right now, but I'm also looking a little ahead to tomorrow, planning out my week as I go, deciding which big thing and which little things to fit where and well, it's just looking up. Let's hope tomorrow I don't burn and die in a panic and things continue to look up a little bit. Thank you, Lord, for these gifts you give me and peace, as always.

I'll leave you with one final idea, one that I've been thinking about writing my thesis on (though that is sometime away). This story takes place in a traditional fantasy setting, and was actually inspired by Eragon (don't stop reading there). I have this idea of how the society which is supposed to be good and equal is actually corrupt in that they control who becomes powerful, and to a degree who lives and who dies. In the time in which the whole story begins, that scoiety has been long conquered by a woman who found out their secrets and she tells the story to the resistors of her empire in which she tries to create equality but finds it difficult not to fall into the same traps her predecesors did.

Well, then, I'll leave you with that and return tomorrow, hopefully with a little bit of fiction. And tomorrow will be a new day.
 Today seemed to try and cheer me up after hearing about my aunt yesterday. One of my friends and at breakfast actually asked me what was wrong and I explained the situation and she said she was there for me if I needed to talk, and rubbed my back a little. I spent some time in the library trying to write a story for class, and it just didn't seem to work. I'm probably going to re-write it after I'm done with this journal. But I don't know what it was about this day, but it seemed to want to uplift me.

The day was just so cheerful. Everyone was upbeat in Acting, and I almost wanted my mood to bring everyone down, in this really negative way, but I was just brought up by my friend's energy, everyone, though tired and ready to be finished with the semester was just happy. We did a funny little exercise to get going (I tried to get them to do something we did to warm up in the Vagina monologues, and that was to play Hi-Ya by saying Vagina, instead, but they didn't go for it. So we just played Hi-Ya, and then played a game called Elephant, Giraffe, Jello, which is this game where you point to some one and say either Elephant, giraffe or jello, and they have to be the main part of the object, while the two people around you have to act as minor parts, and if someone doesn't act (or acts incorrectly) within five seconds you have to step into the middle of the circle, kind of like duck duck goose). And then I got to watch people go through scenes while I re-wrote a bit of my story and offered critique.

And then we went to lunch, and they actually had good food today, unlike most days, and we ate and we talked and it was just nice to be around all of my friends. One of them had a bit of a break down at the table, but it was small, and I gave her a hug as I had to leave for work. Well, I got to work and I really only had a small amount to do. Once I got done I should have written, but I kind of just needed some goof off time, and time to myself. It's weird how that helps me sometimes, even when I'm really busy and overwhelmed and I know I need to do work, sometimes, when I have a perfectly good opertunity, I need to waste it. Today, especially, I just needed it.

Then I got in my major declaration forms, and my last class credit, and went off to writing, where we had an easter egg hunt for the first part of the class, and then went back and read Bird by Bird, and we did work shop. Why is it that writing puts me at peace so easily, and talking about writing and reading other's writing, and why did God give me this gift of expression, especially at a time like this, when I insist on talking about it, instead of just trying to let it go. Now I'm trying not to cry again, just imagining all the lives that could have been, all the love which could have been shared. I want that alternate universe for my uncle and my aunt. I want them to have a life together.

This is such shit, pardon the unChristian like language. And of course I choose to think about it when I am alone in the dark (well, my roommate is sleeping but still), when just a few minute ago, I was laughing with my friends and delievering them Easter Eggs. When just a couple of hours ago, I was celebrating being a woman with many other great women I know by doing the Vagina monologues. and I still want to burst out that this person is dead. She's gone, she can't come back. and it just mystifies me that this can happen.

I think I need to talk to someone. Someone real, someone face to face. I think I need my friends, I need my mom, I need to know my Uncle is going to be okay, I need to know that my aunt is in heaven, and I just feel so unsure. Not about Christ or heaven or any of that, but of life, because they tell you it's fragile, that it doesn't last like you think it will, but you don't really realize it until you have moments like these, where you see it crumble right in front of you.

all right, I think I'm vented for now. I don't think talking about it like this anymore is going to help me. And why, goodness gracious, do I not have any tissues in my room? I think though, I'm going to ask for some scripture, and when I can make an appointment with counseling services on campus. And I need to call my mother. For more than one reason. Anyway. Yeah, I'll post the story I was working on early for you, so that way you'll have something fictional to look at.
GRRR! (whiney voice) Why is writing soooo hard?!? Mah, I just want to scrap my story and through it to the winds, because it's not working for me right now. It might just be because I've never written this kind of action before, and it sucks, and I've only written like a thousand words, and I think I'll go back and try and round off the whole document to sevent thousand words (that should put me somewhere around fifteen hundred on that) and then come back here and complain a little bit before I read for the night.

Speaking of reading two things about the book I'm on now (also known as the Countess von Rudolphstadt): one is, I am really enjoying the style of prose it's written in. Possibly because it's a modern translation of a foreign piece, but it just flows really well for me, while still keeping a style of framming narration, which was fairly popular around the time in which it was written. Two is that I was having a conversation with my advisor yesterday about which classes I'm going to take in the fall, and I asked what he had been reading lately (we got to talking about books), and he mentioned he was reading a biography on George Eliot (also known as Mariane Evens) and he told me that Eliot liked the writings of George Sand. Guess who Countess von Rudolphstadt is by? And I just checked on wiki, and it's the same one (also, apparently, this is a sequel, which is explains this long summary of events I read last night).

Orchestra makes me grr something mighty as well, only more, since I am actually quite fed up with being in an orchestra (or specifically, the one I am in now). I won't go into too much detail, because I have already with my friends, but being there today pissed me off a little bit. It probably doesn't help that tomorrow or Monday, I'm probably going to do that Monthly thing girls do, but still. I'm quiting after this concert, and sending an email to my director saying so, because I don't want him to make me feel bad face to face. Because I usually like being a part of an orchestra, and I don't want it to make me feel grr...

I wrote more than I expected for my story (good thing!), so I think I'll sign off here.  

Journal

Apr. 15th, 2011 06:54 pm
 I'm kind of excited for tonight because it's cotillian and it's my first really formal dance in a while. After I write this, I'm going to go and take a shower, and then my friend is going to do my hair (possibly with some flowers, if she has any left over), and then we'll be all pretty and we'll go on a bus to a pretty outdoor place and then we'll just dance the night away.

This has also been a really busy week, and will continue to be a busy week end. I mean aside from all of the homework I have (from classes and some self assigned), I also have parties I have been invited to tomorrow (finger painting and pizza!) then I have an orchestra concert on Sunday and there are other events going on to. It feels like I'm not going to have a second to breathe between now and the end of the year. And I've been thinking about scholarships again, which is usually no fun, but I've been trying to keep a positive attitude, and I'm also trying to find a job back in the springs, but my mom kind of helped me a little with that today. SO! Tomorrow is super important to be productive for, and maybe do a little finger painting and such.

But if I can finish everything on my to do list for this weekend, that would be so fantastic, I don't think I could breath. Well, I'm probably not going to with all I have to do. But tonight I think I just want to think about going to a dance and being with all of my friends, and maybe getting a cute guy to ask me to dance.

So, what to talk about? Still have so many words left and I don't know what to say. Ah ha, how about this! Earlier this week was really really slow for some reason. I'm not sure why, but I had almost no homework all week earlier this week, but it really picked up over the weekend. I was actually kind of worried, because I had a feeling I was really kind of going to get slammed this weekend with work, and so I tried to keep busy and do stuff, but it just was not working for me. Still I'm glad I had some idea of what was going to happen this weeked.

I also tried to do some work when I went into work today, because I was really the only one in the office, which was both a good and bad thing, because I was stuck doing all the work, but there wasn't that much to do, because my boss was gone, so she couldn't assign me more. But some how, I did not manage to get all of my entering done. I think part of it was that one of the bosses was there until almost one and then at one I had to leave to go to an advising session and was out of the office for almost half an hour, and then I did have to start my entering over. I still managed to get a big chunk of it done, but it still amazes me that I didn't finish, because I can usually get all of that done in a snap.

Oh! Another cool thing to talk about. My friends and I started a competition for over the summer, where we'll all list five books and then give a little summary, and then whoever reads the most books, out of the ones they have not read, will get a prize. It's hugs and kisses right now, but we have a lot of participants, so we're thinking if everyone pitches in two dollars, we can get someone a nice gift card to amazon or barnes and Noble. So yeah, that's me right now. BYE!
So today was actually a really good day, some things withstanding. For starters, it was gorgeous out today, high of about seventy-five rolling through the campus on occasion (and that was your weather forecast, and now your local traffic update). But it was seriously beautiful out. At first I wore jeans and a dark tee-shirt, because I was trying to get into character for a monologue I would perform later that day. Anyway, I go to the library to do some reading and writing, because I usually have an hour to two hours (depending on when I get up and go to breakfast and stuff), before class, after breakfast, that I like to take either in the library or our visual arts center depending on the day, because of which is closest to my first class. Since my first class is in the theatre on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I usually go to the library. So I'm in the library and my phone goes off reminding me that I have a meeting with my creative writing teacher to discuss writing and class and all that good stuff.
Read more... )
You know, I think something is a little wrong with me, when I get excited because they put out the class schedules for next semester. stuff happens, that's life )
 People talk about Friday, like it's God's gift to mankind. But really...really it kind of sucks when you are trying to get work done.I mean, I have so much to do, and with the exception of one thing, I got everything done for Thursday, and I did have this point in my day where I was doing like almost nothing, and I just couldn't focus. I guess this means that tomorrow will be the buckle down thing where everything must get done, or so help me, I might have to with hold Tangled from myself, and I really, really want to go see Tangled. So I'll just have to get everything done.

And another thing that sucks: when I have writers block, I start telling things instead of showing them. You'd think this would be perfect for the script, but I'm not sure the script is really happening. Maybe it's because I decided not the write it in the scripped.com online software (that's really cool, because it formats everything for you), or because I've already started this script and I really like the way it goes. Maybe it's just a matter of continuing, and not starting over. And maybe that's something to try for tomorrow, because seriously, this was all I got for today:

PAGE ONE
PANEL ONE
KEIRA stands her eyes closed, in a tree pose, her hands pressed together over the center of her chest, her foot resting against her thigh. In the back there is a tall concrete wall that goes off of the panel, a pool chair that sits just behind her, and there are pool tiles close to the bottom of the panel.

Yep, that's it. That is quite literally all I wrote. Well that was before I saw that Merlin was on Sci-fi (or Syfy, which is something like Finnish slang for sifilous, or however you spell that disease), which inspired me to write a little something about Magic, (full of telling rather than showing like I said), it's not very good, but hey, it's there, and I'm writting everyday, which was the whole point of this exercise.

It also kind of inspired me to write something called Suspension. I'm not sure what it's totally about yet, but I do know that it's about magic and suspension of disbelief. THis springs from Merlin, but also from the fact that apparently about half of my creative writing class really has trouble doing this for science fiction and fantasy pieces. Someone actually asked me to write something more relatable to the whole class. Well, a. that doesn't really work, because we have a class full of very different people, and I don't really know how to relate to everybody, b. writing is a big escape for me, and I do it, because whatever springs out of my head is probably a large coping mechanism for somethign that happened in my childhood, or from the bad things that go on in my daily life. And I figure, what's the things I could change about life that would make them more interesting. Stick a dragon in the back yard (...fantasy version of burn the house down? I think so). Many fatasy and supernatural stories are often what inspired me and helped me escape as a child, and still do now. And one of the important things that I've learned and am learning from this project is that I have to write what I want to write. Not everyone will like that, but I'm not writting to please everyone. I'm writing because some crazy idea popped into my head and it needs to be written something major (why does writing only have one t, but written has two?). Writing about the drama of daily life does not seem like an escape for me. It seems like drama invades more of me than I want.

That being said, I do actually have an idea about a girl who receives an inheritance from her father whom she never knew and uses it to get away from her less than kind family and step family, and retrace a journey her father took at her age. It's realistic fiction (sort of, I'm not sure how many people get million dollar inheritances). That's something I think I might actually like to write, and I even thought about sharing it with the class, but now I kind of don't want to, just to spite everyone ever. Ah, well, here's a story which may become more:

Magic is not like it is in the movies. It takes much more control than waving a wand, or even saying words. The words never helped me. And I don’t think I have superpowers, it’s just this energy that keeps following beneath my skin, and I can push it free of me and make it do things. It’s been that way ever since I was a kid and I was not really able to control much of it. There was one time; I made a bucket of pain explode because my brothers wouldn’t let me play with it. The explanation our parents came up with was that they left it in the sun too long, and they had to clean up the porch.

That part, the part where I feel like I can’t tell anyone, that’s true.

But anyway, it’s a difficult thing to control, and sometimes, it leaks out when you don’t want it to. It wasn’t until I started doing martial arts that it really calmed down. Before mom and dad enrolled me, whenever I would get the slightest bit emotional something would happen. I nearly lit the kitchen on fire once. I think it was also because before I started the meditation they taught us at my school, I was never quite sure if I was causing things to happen or not, but once I let myself go, and focus on my body I could feel it there.

I don’t think I could ever really quite explain how it works. It’s one of those kinesthetic things you just have to do. And anyway, this story doesn’t start when I was little. This story starts when my great uncle Wally died.


I never knew Great Uncle Wally and Mum met him but once when she was “just a tiny thing,” as she says. I am actually still not sure what Wally was short for, having heard Wallace, Waldo, Walker and Walter all in the same breathe at his funeral in Great Britain.

But all the same, he apparently left her and many of his family members small things in his will, and Mum thought it would be rude to ask them to be sent by mail, and she was missing Wales. She gave Dad a ton of excuses to fly over and actually attend the funeral, and finally he gave in, took two weeks off from work and put us all on a plane (except for Emmerich, who was doing a summer internship he could not just drop to go see a dead guy, his words). But I did have to put up with Malachi for the two hours he was awake. During which I tried to turn my music up extra loud, not to blow a hole in one of the plain walls, and pretended I was asleep.

We were only allowed a few hours of sleep at the hotel, before we had to get ready for Great Uncle Wally’s memorial. Mum made us wear the nicest clothing we had, but I think my shirt was a size too small, because it itched as it lay tightly against my skin. She corralled us into the cab, when we all felt extremely tired (even Malachi, who had slept for nine hours).When she read the address at which his wake was being held, which was neatly written out in her day planner, the cabby gave the oddest look, especially after he asked why she wanted to go there. Mum explained and he still gave her the strange look, but decided to focus on the road for the rest of the trip.

“Why are we doing this?” Malachi groaned. Mum gave him a look like she had sincerely wished she had left him at home. I tried not to grin over my copy of The Inferno.

“Because he was family,” she said. “And it would be wrong not to go and pay our respects. And the woman I talked to on the phone said that he intended for the will to be read at this ceremony.” Apparently it was a little less wrong when we ended up in the wrong part of town for a funeral. Mum and Dad hummed and hawed about their location, for seemingly ancient minutes after the cabby drove off and left us on the side of the street.

That was until the door we stood in front opened, and a woman dressed in a long sweeping dress, purple and fuchsia and red, trimmed with black standing behind it.

“You must be Asphodel Powell,” the woman said in a sultry deep tone. She looked to be about fifty or so, a young kind of fifty, mostly, you can tell because even though they don’t look old, they feel it.

“It’s Daffodil Bachman, actually,” she said. “Powell was my maiden name, and really I go by Dafne,” she explained. The woman regarded her for a moment, and said,

“A shame, they really are two very different plants. But no matter you must we here about Wally. Please come in.” Mum hesitated a moment, but strode inside, Dad followed after and then Malachi, muttering under his breathe about weirdos. I waited, taking in the building, feeling something I hadn’t felt before the woman opened the door. “Is something wrong, child?” the woman asked.

“I just, I didn’t feel it there,” I said, knowing that I probably was not making sense. “But it’s there now. How did you do that?” She blinked her long, colored lashes, before she smiled at me.

“Come in, young man, I believe all will be told with time,” she said, holding out her arms inside the door. I walked into the frame, feeling her close behind as she shut the door behind me. “I did not think the gift had passed to anyone else in Wally’s family, so you must forgive my surprise.”

“I haven’t really known anyone like me before,” I said. “So I’m kind of surprised too. What about Uncle Wally?” she held a finger to her lips and I realized that my family was around, as were a few other guests. There was a large man, sitting on a box, talking to Mum at a rapid pace, calling her Asphodel, like the woman had, a woman who sat stroking a cat, a man playing what looked like solitaire, and a tall, dark haired man who stood in the corner.

They all felt like they had the same energy bubbling beneath their skin, just like I did, but to varying degrees. The large man on the chest felt like he was the weakest, and had a hard time keeping himself contained. The man with the cards felt like he had the smallest energy, but the densest, compact inside of his shell. The woman with the cat, swayed back and forth like a breeze through trees.

The man in the corner clutched his can tightly, and felt like nothing I had ever known. It was beautiful and so frightening all at once, I felt like I could vomit and sing at the same time. The woman took my hand and I instantly felt calm like fresh earth weighing down droplets of soil on my skin.

“We um, never caught your name,” Dad said to the woman.

“I am Proserpina,” she said. “This is Edvard Jurgson,” the cards man, “Linnea Cooper,” the cat woman, “Kepler Newton,” the talking man. “And Dunstan Engelson.” They greeted us each in turn, and when he man standing in the corner nodded at me, I felt shivers run down my spine and goose flesh raise on my skin. “This of course is Wally’s niece, Mrs. Bachman, her husband, and two of her sons. And now that we have all arrived. I suppose we can get started.”
 So, I'm a little euphoric right now, because GUESS WHAT?! )
 
3/30/11 WC: 2002
Piece WC: Same
Project WC: 66018
You know how sometimes, you want to write, but it just doesn't want to come out of you? Blah )

Piece WC: 1259 
3/29/11 WC: 2002
Project WC: 64016

Venting

Mar. 28th, 2011 09:51 am
Okay, dear, non-existant readers, I am going to vent to you about something that has been going on in my life that has almost driven me to the point of shallow tears this morning. Now I know this a giant cliche, someone complaining about their life on livejournal, but I need this, and it's kind of therapy for me. So you can skip it if you want.
GAH! )

Entry WC: 1509
3/28/11 WC: same for now
Project WC: 60967
Still Reading: The Divine Comedy by Dante 
Sickness and Financial Woes )

Piece Count: 1586
3/23/11 WC: same (for now...)
Project WC: 48866
Still Reading: Girl Power by Hillary Carlip
 So, I know y’all non-existent people who read my journal were truly looking forward to hearing more about my church experiences today, but I am exhausted, so I thought I would journal a little bit as that is a little easier than writing fiction or the distant past. Anyway, it’s probably best to start from the beginning.

Journal )

Piece WC: 2000
3/21/11: 2000
Project WC: 47280
Still Reading: Girl Power

 So, I thought I'd talk about me a little bit (because I don't think I do that enough on this journal, do you?) before I give you a piece of story for today. It's partly because I'm tired (though not quite as tired as I was during the rant I did early this week), but also because this is a good stopping place for now, and I have to get those two thousand words some how. 
 
 
IT'S SPRING BREAK YO! )

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