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Jul. 18th, 2010 05:44 pmSometimes you find lines, but don't have the essay to put them into.
I feel rather like it might be arriving in Oz just to find the emerald city to be made of cardboard and paint.
((And sometimes you have lines and the essay to put them into is not so good as to be worth the trouble of posting it))
~Sor
MOOP!
I feel rather like it might be arriving in Oz just to find the emerald city to be made of cardboard and paint.
((And sometimes you have lines and the essay to put them into is not so good as to be worth the trouble of posting it))
~Sor
MOOP!
(no subject)
Jun. 30th, 2010 10:46 pmSo, the other day I was going through old 750words posts and stuff, and pulled out a bunch of things that I thought were worth saying in public.
A lot of them are kinda depressing, because I think words often flow better when they've got a pinch of melancholic to them. But here. It's like a sundries post, only just with things I've written.
Author's notes are in italics
There is a boy.
Who likes me and other girls.
And likes me more _anyways_.
***
Being loved by someone sweet and devoted to me is nice, and I love them all for it.
But being loved by someone sweet and devoted to me over other girls is just a whole different realm of exciting. And of course, we don't actually have much of a romantic relationship at all, but still.
I've never been the girl who wins before. It's the scariest damn thing, but gods help me, I like it.
Yeah, this was really startling when I realized it for the first time, and I still kinda refuse to believe it's true.
And of course, there is no "winning" in poly (except maybe making everyone involved in your relationship scheme happy) but there's also not quite a word to express what I mean here. I am perfectly content to be right where I am in all the relationships I'm in --hence the reason I'm in them-- but sometimes it's nice to realize all a sudden that someone thinks you're special enough to set aside a girl who is clearly hotter and more interesting than you are.
...then it just hurts more and I am tired of it hurting _more_. Things aren't supposed to keep hurting more. Shouldn't pain level out at some point?
Yes. Yes it should. I think this particular pain might've gotten close to level for now, the problem is just that level is a lot of pain, and so I can only lock it away for so long before it rages at me again.
What, no, I'm not emo, nope.
I hate because the only other option is to hurt, and this hurts so bad I'm not sure I can deal.
I don't remember who or what I hate here. Very plausibly myself.
And really, if you don't have all your words sorted out beforehand, if you don't know what you're going to say, what's the point of trying to say it anyways? I'm a fucking writer, if I can't put a problem into words, there's probably not much of a problem in the first place.
...and even if I can put it into words, I'm a cynic, and a victim and extremely clever. If I can put it into words, I can figure out arguments against the problem until it no longer exists, or boils down to just me being a tiny idiot. And no one but me can fix me being a tiny idiot.
And this is why I am not very good at speaking up when there is something wrong in one of my relationships. If I can sort it out on my own, because I was just being silly, why would I bother my partner?
Yeah, I'm _really_ not good at this relationship thing. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.
And when the going gets tough, I am presented with one option -to overwhelm myself in sensation.
Tense certain muscles past any reasonable point, shut my eyes tight, or stare meditatively into something lovely, or run and run until the body runs out of energy, or most used of all, drown my internal monologue in music.
I drown myself in music all the time. Hell, let's be honest here, it's one of the most useful coping mechanisms I currently have in order to fight bottom. I get sad, I pump on the Next to Normal, or s00j, or Vienna, or whatever else I've got, and I make the sad, if not go away, at least have to struggle past the noise to actually get to me.
It's a really really nice coping mechanism. It also means that I'm going to be deaf before I turn thirty.
My made up mind was not put here for you to try and change. Cheers, s00j.
But the best part of today is that I've hit upon two separate things that make me incredibly _incredibly_ happy.
The first is pretty logical. Giving Blood. Me donating a pint makes me both incredibly pleased with myself, and punchy as fuck due to the light-headedness. I am okay with this state of affairs, especially if it makes me unlazy enough to go give blood more often than the twice yearly I've been doing.
Speaking of which, I'm almost eligible again. Anyone want to go to the red cross with me this weekend?
I am amused by Hyde, protecting me from the ghosts that lurk for hours after I read anything creepytastic, no matter how far I remove myself from the immediate.
"Don't worry dear. There is nothing in this house as scary as I. Except maybe for you."
Oh, excellently played you delightful fucker.
y'all do know who Hyde is, right? He lives in my head and gives me not terribly good advice. Because I am, say it with me folks, a little bit broken.
I am, for the first time in my life, willingly sitting out while actively at dance.
I just...don't feel like dancing. I'd say maybe I'm tired, except I know I've danced in physically worse shape before --and that's not even counting on the sprained ankle!
No, I just can't cope with the idea of doing more dances tonight. There is apparently a point where the pain of dance overtakes the pleasure --I know, I didn't realize it could happen either. But there is, and I've finally hit it.
***
I don't want to sob in the middle of the dance hall, in the middle of a waltz. I don't know that I could explain why if I did. I do know that I don't ever want to have to. I hate crying, I hate the pain, and I hate people giving me sympathy, because I hate being weak enough to need other people.
All I want is to just be strong enough to survive independent of outside forces. Maybe that means I need to break up with everyone, not have outside forces that affect me any longer. GO LIVE IN A CAVE AND BE A HERMIT, SOR!
I am such a whiny cunt1. It is beyond me why anyone at all gives a damn about me in the first place. :P
Cunt explained below. No, you don't get an explanation for the rest of it. But this is a pretty common mental path --emo -> yelling at myself for being emo.
Dog and I get along well, and that's really really important.
I need to remember that having friends who I can bitch about the odd parts of my life to are a really crucial thing for me to have. I also need to remember how much I appreciate having friends who will slap me down when I am using inappropriate language, or otherwise being an elitist jerk. (see also, Jesse glaring at me when I used bitch. I want to give him a cookie and a hug for that alone)
Dog is awesome. I really want to hang out with him more this fall, when I'm back in Boston.
(I don't know how to feel about the fact that I'm using Amanda right now for a little extra bit of stability. She is a fucking idiot. But her art, when it's good...
It's good. It's the best. Right now I am angry and hurt and sad and scared. And that is the perfect mood for listening to Amanda, because she will reinforce the parts that are okay to be reinforced, and she will eradicate the parts that need to just Go Away.
I use music to blank myself out. She's really really good at that.
Hate the artist, love the art? I don't even know anymore. It is so hard to be a good person sometimes.)
Can we have an Amandadebate-free space in my journal comments? I'd appreciate that.
Yes, this is all just because I handle arguments extremely poorly, and I can't freak out and walk four miles in this state.
I find it telling that I've had two boys in a row who were just for sex. And I'm in love with both of them.
Sex is a bit of a misnomer --I have what the Shakers2 call an "unsullied cunt", which is apparently terribly valuable and should be protected at all costs. But boys who I am into with the kissing and such, and not the romantics. And...yeah. My traitor of a heart has started to sigh wistfully, and doodle our initials together on my school notebooks.
The emotion involved, this is more than sex. Sex is just endorphins and dopamine. Waltzing is...joy.
So, I almost just wrote "fucking _this_" as my author's note. Which means that I just tried to emphatically agree with something I wrote. So, uh, yeah, I'm a bit of an idiot.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: This is not a word that I should use. It's a slur, flat and simple, and I should not use it to refer to myself (which I do, occasionally), or any other woman (which I don't.)
That being said, there are a lot of things I call myself that no one else may touch, and yes, cunt is one of them. There's a hardness to it, all edges and corners and sharp, and in some moods, the words I feel that fit best are the words that fit this hardness.
2: See also, Shakesville here, and the specific origin of the term unsullied cunt here.
A lot of them are kinda depressing, because I think words often flow better when they've got a pinch of melancholic to them. But here. It's like a sundries post, only just with things I've written.
Author's notes are in italics
There is a boy.
Who likes me and other girls.
And likes me more _anyways_.
***
Being loved by someone sweet and devoted to me is nice, and I love them all for it.
But being loved by someone sweet and devoted to me over other girls is just a whole different realm of exciting. And of course, we don't actually have much of a romantic relationship at all, but still.
I've never been the girl who wins before. It's the scariest damn thing, but gods help me, I like it.
Yeah, this was really startling when I realized it for the first time, and I still kinda refuse to believe it's true.
And of course, there is no "winning" in poly (except maybe making everyone involved in your relationship scheme happy) but there's also not quite a word to express what I mean here. I am perfectly content to be right where I am in all the relationships I'm in --hence the reason I'm in them-- but sometimes it's nice to realize all a sudden that someone thinks you're special enough to set aside a girl who is clearly hotter and more interesting than you are.
...then it just hurts more and I am tired of it hurting _more_. Things aren't supposed to keep hurting more. Shouldn't pain level out at some point?
Yes. Yes it should. I think this particular pain might've gotten close to level for now, the problem is just that level is a lot of pain, and so I can only lock it away for so long before it rages at me again.
What, no, I'm not emo, nope.
I hate because the only other option is to hurt, and this hurts so bad I'm not sure I can deal.
I don't remember who or what I hate here. Very plausibly myself.
And really, if you don't have all your words sorted out beforehand, if you don't know what you're going to say, what's the point of trying to say it anyways? I'm a fucking writer, if I can't put a problem into words, there's probably not much of a problem in the first place.
...and even if I can put it into words, I'm a cynic, and a victim and extremely clever. If I can put it into words, I can figure out arguments against the problem until it no longer exists, or boils down to just me being a tiny idiot. And no one but me can fix me being a tiny idiot.
And this is why I am not very good at speaking up when there is something wrong in one of my relationships. If I can sort it out on my own, because I was just being silly, why would I bother my partner?
Yeah, I'm _really_ not good at this relationship thing. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.
And when the going gets tough, I am presented with one option -to overwhelm myself in sensation.
Tense certain muscles past any reasonable point, shut my eyes tight, or stare meditatively into something lovely, or run and run until the body runs out of energy, or most used of all, drown my internal monologue in music.
I drown myself in music all the time. Hell, let's be honest here, it's one of the most useful coping mechanisms I currently have in order to fight bottom. I get sad, I pump on the Next to Normal, or s00j, or Vienna, or whatever else I've got, and I make the sad, if not go away, at least have to struggle past the noise to actually get to me.
It's a really really nice coping mechanism. It also means that I'm going to be deaf before I turn thirty.
My made up mind was not put here for you to try and change. Cheers, s00j.
But the best part of today is that I've hit upon two separate things that make me incredibly _incredibly_ happy.
The first is pretty logical. Giving Blood. Me donating a pint makes me both incredibly pleased with myself, and punchy as fuck due to the light-headedness. I am okay with this state of affairs, especially if it makes me unlazy enough to go give blood more often than the twice yearly I've been doing.
Speaking of which, I'm almost eligible again. Anyone want to go to the red cross with me this weekend?
I am amused by Hyde, protecting me from the ghosts that lurk for hours after I read anything creepytastic, no matter how far I remove myself from the immediate.
"Don't worry dear. There is nothing in this house as scary as I. Except maybe for you."
Oh, excellently played you delightful fucker.
y'all do know who Hyde is, right? He lives in my head and gives me not terribly good advice. Because I am, say it with me folks, a little bit broken.
I am, for the first time in my life, willingly sitting out while actively at dance.
I just...don't feel like dancing. I'd say maybe I'm tired, except I know I've danced in physically worse shape before --and that's not even counting on the sprained ankle!
No, I just can't cope with the idea of doing more dances tonight. There is apparently a point where the pain of dance overtakes the pleasure --I know, I didn't realize it could happen either. But there is, and I've finally hit it.
***
I don't want to sob in the middle of the dance hall, in the middle of a waltz. I don't know that I could explain why if I did. I do know that I don't ever want to have to. I hate crying, I hate the pain, and I hate people giving me sympathy, because I hate being weak enough to need other people.
All I want is to just be strong enough to survive independent of outside forces. Maybe that means I need to break up with everyone, not have outside forces that affect me any longer. GO LIVE IN A CAVE AND BE A HERMIT, SOR!
I am such a whiny cunt1. It is beyond me why anyone at all gives a damn about me in the first place. :P
Cunt explained below. No, you don't get an explanation for the rest of it. But this is a pretty common mental path --emo -> yelling at myself for being emo.
Dog and I get along well, and that's really really important.
I need to remember that having friends who I can bitch about the odd parts of my life to are a really crucial thing for me to have. I also need to remember how much I appreciate having friends who will slap me down when I am using inappropriate language, or otherwise being an elitist jerk. (see also, Jesse glaring at me when I used bitch. I want to give him a cookie and a hug for that alone)
Dog is awesome. I really want to hang out with him more this fall, when I'm back in Boston.
(I don't know how to feel about the fact that I'm using Amanda right now for a little extra bit of stability. She is a fucking idiot. But her art, when it's good...
It's good. It's the best. Right now I am angry and hurt and sad and scared. And that is the perfect mood for listening to Amanda, because she will reinforce the parts that are okay to be reinforced, and she will eradicate the parts that need to just Go Away.
I use music to blank myself out. She's really really good at that.
Hate the artist, love the art? I don't even know anymore. It is so hard to be a good person sometimes.)
Can we have an Amandadebate-free space in my journal comments? I'd appreciate that.
Yes, this is all just because I handle arguments extremely poorly, and I can't freak out and walk four miles in this state.
I find it telling that I've had two boys in a row who were just for sex. And I'm in love with both of them.
Sex is a bit of a misnomer --I have what the Shakers2 call an "unsullied cunt", which is apparently terribly valuable and should be protected at all costs. But boys who I am into with the kissing and such, and not the romantics. And...yeah. My traitor of a heart has started to sigh wistfully, and doodle our initials together on my school notebooks.
The emotion involved, this is more than sex. Sex is just endorphins and dopamine. Waltzing is...joy.
So, I almost just wrote "fucking _this_" as my author's note. Which means that I just tried to emphatically agree with something I wrote. So, uh, yeah, I'm a bit of an idiot.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: This is not a word that I should use. It's a slur, flat and simple, and I should not use it to refer to myself (which I do, occasionally), or any other woman (which I don't.)
That being said, there are a lot of things I call myself that no one else may touch, and yes, cunt is one of them. There's a hardness to it, all edges and corners and sharp, and in some moods, the words I feel that fit best are the words that fit this hardness.
2: See also, Shakesville here, and the specific origin of the term unsullied cunt here.
750 words and 140 characters
Apr. 18th, 2010 04:16 pmThere are two numbers right now, which seem to be defining my existence as a writer.
Oh sure, there are lots of things academically. 500 word essay. 6 page research paper. Cite 10 sources. All sorts of numbers fly by in the pursuit of writing something for school, but they tend to be inconsistent and unimportant. No, when I say there are numbers defining my existence as a writer, I mean my existence as a writer of interesting things. A writer of stories, of essays, of rants, of vignettes, of quotes, of lines, and of anything else there is I can think of to write. Those numbers are 750 and 140.
You might've noticed that I've been incredibly light on actually updating my livejournal recently. There's a couple of reasons for that, notable among them because I've been busy as hell. One of the bigger reasons is because I've been tweeting instead. The other big one is that Tho finally pushed me far enough towards actually signing up for and using 750words.com.
I've been using it for a month now. And it is abso-fucking-loutly *BRILLIANT!*
The idea is the same advice that is given to every aspiring writer by every successful writer --the secret to being a writer is not hard, all you have to do is actually write, every single day. But somehow, having a nice clean website to store your words on, and more importantly, having a nice fun point system to give you that extra inch of incentive, has meant that I've actually had incentive to write, outside of the logical and internal.
It has succeeded where every single other thing in all the world has failed. It has given me a reason to write, every day, because if I don't, I won't get the points for actually doing my writing, and I'll ruin my streaks, and it'll be Just Terrible.
There are two steps I still need to manage. Using it more to write actual stories, as opposed to just personal babble about whatever's on my mind at the time is the less important of those goals --sure, it'd be great to get better, and more consistent, about putting my fiction down onto paper. I'm never going to be a novelist without a finished novel, after all. The other thing I'm lacking is a little more important: I just need to do something with my output, and if they're short little bits of writing, well, that just means I'll be making more short little posts, or longer posts that jump across a lot of topics (see also:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rm). Once I've got that down, well...
750words really is the best toy I've got in my writers toolbox right now.
Now, that being said, you'll note I also babbled something about Twitter in my initial explanation for why livejournal's been so light. Over the last couple years, I've had a twitter account, and therefore, when I first get a stupid little one line thought, I can just toss that in there, instead of on my livejournal. Quoteposts especially have suffered from my increasing reliance on the 140 character format, it's just too easy to drop a nicely worded sentence into twitter instead of making a post.
I'm not really sure how to fix this, and every once in a while (when I'm not tweeting emotastic song lyrics, that is) I will say something on twitter that I think is probably worth reading by a larger audience. This means I either need to expand the one line of brilliance into a lot of babble, make a supershort post, or do that most dread of things --export my daily tweets to livejournal.
I figure the way to solve that is the same as solving 750words --whenever I write something good enough, just go ahead and drop it in my livejournal anyways. I've spent the last six years making (wait, six? That can't be...holy fuck, six and a half?! Really?!) this journal a repository of everything public I have to say. Consolidation can't hardly hurt.
750 words and 140 characters. Minimum and maximum writing limits, and it's hard to say which has forced more creativity out of me so far. All I can really say is that I do so love being a writer in the era of the internet.
~Sor
MOOP!
Postscript: That being said, I cannot express in words how frustrating it is to finish a piece on 750words, look at the counter, and realize I'm like...thirty words from being done. I can add a few extra words, but not thirty, and when I'm that close, it feels a little ridiculous to start a whole new thought, because there's no chance I'll actually finish it. Or, well, there is a chance, I just want to finish the first one first.
At any rate, with this post script I've topped eight hundred, so I am just fine with everything ever again. Ta!
Oh sure, there are lots of things academically. 500 word essay. 6 page research paper. Cite 10 sources. All sorts of numbers fly by in the pursuit of writing something for school, but they tend to be inconsistent and unimportant. No, when I say there are numbers defining my existence as a writer, I mean my existence as a writer of interesting things. A writer of stories, of essays, of rants, of vignettes, of quotes, of lines, and of anything else there is I can think of to write. Those numbers are 750 and 140.
You might've noticed that I've been incredibly light on actually updating my livejournal recently. There's a couple of reasons for that, notable among them because I've been busy as hell. One of the bigger reasons is because I've been tweeting instead. The other big one is that Tho finally pushed me far enough towards actually signing up for and using 750words.com.
I've been using it for a month now. And it is abso-fucking-loutly *BRILLIANT!*
The idea is the same advice that is given to every aspiring writer by every successful writer --the secret to being a writer is not hard, all you have to do is actually write, every single day. But somehow, having a nice clean website to store your words on, and more importantly, having a nice fun point system to give you that extra inch of incentive, has meant that I've actually had incentive to write, outside of the logical and internal.
It has succeeded where every single other thing in all the world has failed. It has given me a reason to write, every day, because if I don't, I won't get the points for actually doing my writing, and I'll ruin my streaks, and it'll be Just Terrible.
There are two steps I still need to manage. Using it more to write actual stories, as opposed to just personal babble about whatever's on my mind at the time is the less important of those goals --sure, it'd be great to get better, and more consistent, about putting my fiction down onto paper. I'm never going to be a novelist without a finished novel, after all. The other thing I'm lacking is a little more important: I just need to do something with my output, and if they're short little bits of writing, well, that just means I'll be making more short little posts, or longer posts that jump across a lot of topics (see also:
rm). Once I've got that down, well...750words really is the best toy I've got in my writers toolbox right now.
Now, that being said, you'll note I also babbled something about Twitter in my initial explanation for why livejournal's been so light. Over the last couple years, I've had a twitter account, and therefore, when I first get a stupid little one line thought, I can just toss that in there, instead of on my livejournal. Quoteposts especially have suffered from my increasing reliance on the 140 character format, it's just too easy to drop a nicely worded sentence into twitter instead of making a post.
I'm not really sure how to fix this, and every once in a while (when I'm not tweeting emotastic song lyrics, that is) I will say something on twitter that I think is probably worth reading by a larger audience. This means I either need to expand the one line of brilliance into a lot of babble, make a supershort post, or do that most dread of things --export my daily tweets to livejournal.
I figure the way to solve that is the same as solving 750words --whenever I write something good enough, just go ahead and drop it in my livejournal anyways. I've spent the last six years making (wait, six? That can't be...holy fuck, six and a half?! Really?!) this journal a repository of everything public I have to say. Consolidation can't hardly hurt.
750 words and 140 characters. Minimum and maximum writing limits, and it's hard to say which has forced more creativity out of me so far. All I can really say is that I do so love being a writer in the era of the internet.
~Sor
MOOP!
Postscript: That being said, I cannot express in words how frustrating it is to finish a piece on 750words, look at the counter, and realize I'm like...thirty words from being done. I can add a few extra words, but not thirty, and when I'm that close, it feels a little ridiculous to start a whole new thought, because there's no chance I'll actually finish it. Or, well, there is a chance, I just want to finish the first one first.
At any rate, with this post script I've topped eight hundred, so I am just fine with everything ever again. Ta!
Two years ago today!
Feb. 4th, 2010 12:33 amOh damn, I missed the formal February third announcement by a few hours. I had better as sure damn hell get on that.
See, a couple years ago, it was 2008, I was goofing around with the Katters, and this happened:
Me: So, there was this kid Jake
Me: And he met a girl
Me: And they had really hot sexy sex
Jake: Well, that's usually how it starts
Me: And he put his penis in her vajeener
Me: VAJEENER!
Me: The end
Katters: That was the greatest porn ever
Katters: Ever
And somehow that spawned my single favourite use of this livejournal, now that I'm over eighteen and it's not creepy: The less than 31 words porn contest.
HOW IT WORKS!
You write a porn. You make sure that it is, at maximum, 30 words. If you need inspiration, you go look here(2008) or here(2009)
You then post it in a comment on THIS POST! Comments are screened, so no one can see what a naughty naughty little writer you are. If you wanna leave anonymous porn, go wild. If you wanna leave me a dozen stories, by all means, go wild. If you wanna be kinky, go wild. If you wanna be vanilla, go wild. If you wanna be funny, go wild. If you wanna be erotic, good luck, and go wild!
After a couple weeks, I will collect all the entries (plus any that got e-mailed or IMd to me, and post them all in a nice big anonymous post for everyone to read and enjoy. No one is revealed as a pervert, I get to read lots of clever porn, and everyone is happy.
SO GET WRITING, MY ILLUSTRIOUS WANKERS!1
~Sor
MOOP!
1: "Illustrious wanker" may be my new favourite phrase ever.
See, a couple years ago, it was 2008, I was goofing around with the Katters, and this happened:
Me: So, there was this kid Jake
Me: And he met a girl
Me: And they had really hot sexy sex
Jake: Well, that's usually how it starts
Me: And he put his penis in her vajeener
Me: VAJEENER!
Me: The end
Katters: That was the greatest porn ever
Katters: Ever
And somehow that spawned my single favourite use of this livejournal, now that I'm over eighteen and it's not creepy: The less than 31 words porn contest.
HOW IT WORKS!
You write a porn. You make sure that it is, at maximum, 30 words. If you need inspiration, you go look here(2008) or here(2009)
You then post it in a comment on THIS POST! Comments are screened, so no one can see what a naughty naughty little writer you are. If you wanna leave anonymous porn, go wild. If you wanna leave me a dozen stories, by all means, go wild. If you wanna be kinky, go wild. If you wanna be vanilla, go wild. If you wanna be funny, go wild. If you wanna be erotic, good luck, and go wild!
After a couple weeks, I will collect all the entries (plus any that got e-mailed or IMd to me, and post them all in a nice big anonymous post for everyone to read and enjoy. No one is revealed as a pervert, I get to read lots of clever porn, and everyone is happy.
SO GET WRITING, MY ILLUSTRIOUS WANKERS!1
~Sor
MOOP!
1: "Illustrious wanker" may be my new favourite phrase ever.
More WriMo notes.
Nov. 2nd, 2009 12:56 pmMore NaNoWriMo notes:
I'm gonna post it up inkatarina_tales as I write it, both because it will help me get it done, and because it really is a terrible story so far. Utterly incoherent, and without a plot, and I really just don't know what's happening. I'm going to be so embarrassed if this really is the one I finish. And if I do finish it, maybe I'll then rewrite the entire thing, only this time actually knowing some of the plot.
Yes, this is how I always write. I am kindof terrible at this thing I call my craft.
At any rate, I've put together some links for you, if you don't have a life and want to go laugh at some other things I've written, while you're waiting for this one to be posted. So!
NaNoWriMo2007 story A: Loose Ends
NaNoWriMo2007 story B: Only Anarchists
NaNoWriMo2006: Es Beginnt1
And, of course
NaNoWriMo2009: Let's Do This Thing1
Enjoy. I'm going to go forget about my brain for a while. How long do I have to be a writer before I get to advance to the "drinking heavily" stage?
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I am really really shitty at titling things. My NaNoWriMo2005 project is just called "Adie's Tale", and my 2004 one is "Dante's tale". The 2003 one is just called "the one with the twins" because I can't for the life of me remember another thing about it.
But at any rate, both these titles come from the very first thing I wrote in the text file --so in 2006, German for "It begins" and in 2009, "LET'S DO THIS THING! LET'S DO IT HARDCORE!"
...oh, and it's worth noting that Loose Ends refers to the fact that it was a really very old story/Sorcy!canon I was rewriting. Tying up Loose Ends. Yeah. I fail at titles, I know.
I'm gonna post it up in
katarina_tales as I write it, both because it will help me get it done, and because it really is a terrible story so far. Utterly incoherent, and without a plot, and I really just don't know what's happening. I'm going to be so embarrassed if this really is the one I finish. And if I do finish it, maybe I'll then rewrite the entire thing, only this time actually knowing some of the plot. Yes, this is how I always write. I am kindof terrible at this thing I call my craft.
At any rate, I've put together some links for you, if you don't have a life and want to go laugh at some other things I've written, while you're waiting for this one to be posted. So!
NaNoWriMo2007 story A: Loose Ends
NaNoWriMo2007 story B: Only Anarchists
NaNoWriMo2006: Es Beginnt1
And, of course
NaNoWriMo2009: Let's Do This Thing1
Enjoy. I'm going to go forget about my brain for a while. How long do I have to be a writer before I get to advance to the "drinking heavily" stage?
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I am really really shitty at titling things. My NaNoWriMo2005 project is just called "Adie's Tale", and my 2004 one is "Dante's tale". The 2003 one is just called "the one with the twins" because I can't for the life of me remember another thing about it.
But at any rate, both these titles come from the very first thing I wrote in the text file --so in 2006, German for "It begins" and in 2009, "LET'S DO THIS THING! LET'S DO IT HARDCORE!"
...oh, and it's worth noting that Loose Ends refers to the fact that it was a really very old story/Sorcy!canon I was rewriting. Tying up Loose Ends. Yeah. I fail at titles, I know.
The Best Writing on the Internet
Oct. 14th, 2009 05:33 pmI am a writer. And like all good writers, that means I am also a reader. And being a reader who is highly blogcentric, I have a list going in the back of my mind that is some of the best things to read on the internet.
This list is so very utterly far from being thorough that it's not even funny. I'm sure I have things in my mind that I find funnier, or cleverer, or more completely amazing. But everything on here is an excellent thing to read, and one that I think other people totally ought to read as well.
Enjoy!
Fanfiction things: (Because yes, I read fanfic sometimes.)
Harry Potter and the Eagle of Truthiness --Self explanatory. Stephan Colbert is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Hilarity ensues!
Geniuses --Ohhhmy. This is probably going to be the least interesting to most of you, but it's Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes) and Jason (of Foxtrot). In college. Dating. Yes, if I had to pick only one true pairing, this would be it. I've only read the stories by Amaretto, but man, are they all great.
The Naked Quidditch Match --My favourite Harry Potter fanfiction, EVER! EVER EVER EVER! The whole thing is written e-mail style, and the premise is that Fred and George lost a game of truth or dare, and so the Gryffendor Quidditch team has to play their next game nude. It is unbelievably hilarious.
This Is Where It Starts --Out of every fanfic I've ever read for anything, this is the one that most thoroughly is a part of my canon for that show. It's a Middleman fic, and it tells the first year of college for Lacey and DubDub. And every time I read it, it makes me cry a little, because it's so sweet and sincere and beautiful. And because it makes me miss Veronica like nothing else in this world. Because that's what Best Friends are about and for.
Not Fanfiction Things!:
WikiHistory --I think the only piece of original fiction on here. It's the discussion/edits page for the Hitler entry on a hypothetical wiki designed to keep track of time travelers and the changes they make. Hilariously fun to read.
The 213 things Skippy is no longer allowed to do in the U.S. Army --Duuuude, just read it. It is a funny funny list.
The Evil Overlord List --Zohmgah, I met someone the other day who had not heard of the Evil Overlord List. Okay, this is a list of the things that I will remember when I am an Evil Overlord. It is CRUCIAL for anyone looking to try to take over the world, and will help make sure your plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity.
That'll give you, er, bees --Woman meets Tim Curry. Is an idiot. Writes it up as hilariously as possible, because otherwise she may have set her face on fire from blushing.
Your First Relationship Will Be Nuked: Don't Give Up --Posted on Everything2, and it is just sweet and sad and loving and melancholic. It details a two week long relationship, and it's really very pretty.
this was brought to you by "my temperature has risen two degrees in twelve hours" theatre --man, I quote this thing all the time. It's a treatise on the differences between cake and pie in pop culture.
Additionally, there are a very small number of things that I believe everyone ought to watch at some point or another. Most of them I've linked in other posts (Free Hugs, Where the Hell is Matt) but here's a trio of funny videos that I quote all the time:
Shoes --Oh. My. God, Shoes. This one kinda spawned a bit of a cultural phenomenon, certainly among my peer groups. Maybe a little less among you older and more mature folk that make up so much of my friends list, but that's why I'm here to keep you in touch.
End of the World --"And Australia's *still* like WTF mates?" It's short, just go watch.
How to Kill a Mockingbird --Man, this is, without a doubt, my favourite flash cartoon *ever*. It does not make a whit of difference whether you have actually read "To Kill a Mockingbird" or not. Just go watch this --it's about ten minutes of sheer AWESOME!
~Sor
MOOP!
(6/12)
This list is so very utterly far from being thorough that it's not even funny. I'm sure I have things in my mind that I find funnier, or cleverer, or more completely amazing. But everything on here is an excellent thing to read, and one that I think other people totally ought to read as well.
Enjoy!
Fanfiction things: (Because yes, I read fanfic sometimes.)
Harry Potter and the Eagle of Truthiness --Self explanatory. Stephan Colbert is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Hilarity ensues!
Geniuses --Ohhhmy. This is probably going to be the least interesting to most of you, but it's Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes) and Jason (of Foxtrot). In college. Dating. Yes, if I had to pick only one true pairing, this would be it. I've only read the stories by Amaretto, but man, are they all great.
The Naked Quidditch Match --My favourite Harry Potter fanfiction, EVER! EVER EVER EVER! The whole thing is written e-mail style, and the premise is that Fred and George lost a game of truth or dare, and so the Gryffendor Quidditch team has to play their next game nude. It is unbelievably hilarious.
This Is Where It Starts --Out of every fanfic I've ever read for anything, this is the one that most thoroughly is a part of my canon for that show. It's a Middleman fic, and it tells the first year of college for Lacey and DubDub. And every time I read it, it makes me cry a little, because it's so sweet and sincere and beautiful. And because it makes me miss Veronica like nothing else in this world. Because that's what Best Friends are about and for.
Not Fanfiction Things!:
WikiHistory --I think the only piece of original fiction on here. It's the discussion/edits page for the Hitler entry on a hypothetical wiki designed to keep track of time travelers and the changes they make. Hilariously fun to read.
The 213 things Skippy is no longer allowed to do in the U.S. Army --Duuuude, just read it. It is a funny funny list.
The Evil Overlord List --Zohmgah, I met someone the other day who had not heard of the Evil Overlord List. Okay, this is a list of the things that I will remember when I am an Evil Overlord. It is CRUCIAL for anyone looking to try to take over the world, and will help make sure your plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity.
That'll give you, er, bees --Woman meets Tim Curry. Is an idiot. Writes it up as hilariously as possible, because otherwise she may have set her face on fire from blushing.
Your First Relationship Will Be Nuked: Don't Give Up --Posted on Everything2, and it is just sweet and sad and loving and melancholic. It details a two week long relationship, and it's really very pretty.
this was brought to you by "my temperature has risen two degrees in twelve hours" theatre --man, I quote this thing all the time. It's a treatise on the differences between cake and pie in pop culture.
Additionally, there are a very small number of things that I believe everyone ought to watch at some point or another. Most of them I've linked in other posts (Free Hugs, Where the Hell is Matt) but here's a trio of funny videos that I quote all the time:
Shoes --Oh. My. God, Shoes. This one kinda spawned a bit of a cultural phenomenon, certainly among my peer groups. Maybe a little less among you older and more mature folk that make up so much of my friends list, but that's why I'm here to keep you in touch.
End of the World --"And Australia's *still* like WTF mates?" It's short, just go watch.
How to Kill a Mockingbird --Man, this is, without a doubt, my favourite flash cartoon *ever*. It does not make a whit of difference whether you have actually read "To Kill a Mockingbird" or not. Just go watch this --it's about ten minutes of sheer AWESOME!
~Sor
MOOP!
(6/12)
(no subject)
Sep. 9th, 2009 12:36 pmJust a quick thought:
For a good long while now, I have been thinking in the back of my head about creating an actual difference between the journalskdsorceress and sorcyress. The former would continue to be what I use pretty much all my journals for --random life dumping, thoughts, silly questions, quotes, and occasional really good writing, while the latter would be restricted to just what I consider the "good" writing --things like my essays, stories, occasional forays into emo poetry, etc.
The entries on Sorcyress would probably be mirrored on kdsorceress, though not vice versa. It would pretty much be designed to give people a chance to skip all the babbling about my life, so they can cut straight to the things that will hopefully inspire discussion. It would also hopefully guilt me into actually writing more essays, so I could have content over there.
Thoughts?
~Sor
MOOP!
For a good long while now, I have been thinking in the back of my head about creating an actual difference between the journals
kdsorceress and sorcyress. The former would continue to be what I use pretty much all my journals for --random life dumping, thoughts, silly questions, quotes, and occasional really good writing, while the latter would be restricted to just what I consider the "good" writing --things like my essays, stories, occasional forays into emo poetry, etc. The entries on Sorcyress would probably be mirrored on kdsorceress, though not vice versa. It would pretty much be designed to give people a chance to skip all the babbling about my life, so they can cut straight to the things that will hopefully inspire discussion. It would also hopefully guilt me into actually writing more essays, so I could have content over there.
Thoughts?
~Sor
MOOP!
That's twice in the past thirty-six hours that I've wanted to bite someone gently, as a way of indicating "mine"
It's something I've done for a while now. Biting things is how I claim them as my own. CD's, books, comics, art --if I get something new and utterly fantastic, my response is often to bite one of the corners lightly, not even so hard as to mark it. But hard enough.
With people, it's never an exclusive claiming, of course. Even were I *not* poly, it would not be an exclusive claiming --owning people, and the prospect of being owned both frighten me. But sometimes, the affection and the love wells up in such a way that I do feel in some manner possessive. And so my automatic thought is to bite, lightly, and on the shoulder generally.
It's definitely a light and gentle sort of biting. While I can and sometimes do bite to hurt (both myself and others, always *with* consent, thanks) that's a very *very* different sort of biting, for a different sort of situation. Possession bites are not ever meant to hurt, even in a good way. They are my way of saying you are a friend, you are family, you are nakama, you are part of Mine, and at this moment, I feel particularly close to you, whether you realize it or not.
Of course, I have only a very limited subset of the world that I can do that to -casual biting is not really encouraged in formal circles, or even informal ones, and among those I think of as Mine, not all of them are bite-friendly. But maybe I should start again. A subtle little kiss, with teeth, a way to say in actions what I can't always work out in words.
I find it amusing that I already have a tag for this sort of entry...
~Sor
MOOP!
It's something I've done for a while now. Biting things is how I claim them as my own. CD's, books, comics, art --if I get something new and utterly fantastic, my response is often to bite one of the corners lightly, not even so hard as to mark it. But hard enough.
With people, it's never an exclusive claiming, of course. Even were I *not* poly, it would not be an exclusive claiming --owning people, and the prospect of being owned both frighten me. But sometimes, the affection and the love wells up in such a way that I do feel in some manner possessive. And so my automatic thought is to bite, lightly, and on the shoulder generally.
It's definitely a light and gentle sort of biting. While I can and sometimes do bite to hurt (both myself and others, always *with* consent, thanks) that's a very *very* different sort of biting, for a different sort of situation. Possession bites are not ever meant to hurt, even in a good way. They are my way of saying you are a friend, you are family, you are nakama, you are part of Mine, and at this moment, I feel particularly close to you, whether you realize it or not.
Of course, I have only a very limited subset of the world that I can do that to -casual biting is not really encouraged in formal circles, or even informal ones, and among those I think of as Mine, not all of them are bite-friendly. But maybe I should start again. A subtle little kiss, with teeth, a way to say in actions what I can't always work out in words.
I find it amusing that I already have a tag for this sort of entry...
~Sor
MOOP!
(no subject)
Apr. 11th, 2009 01:58 amScheissentagzunfixen2009 continues to go well --I baleeted 85 percent or so of my tags with only one use, and I have ten months (out of 65) all tagged up. Yayy or something.
***
I am uncommonly antisocial right now, and have been for a substantial amount of time --at least since Tuesday, possibly since earlier. People = Donotwant.
***
Went to a Vienna Teng concert on Tuesday, which was beautiful and quite needed. Went ahead and bought two of her albums --the brand new one, "Inland Territory", and the second-most-new one, "Dreaming Through the Noise". (Her first two albums I own by..um...magic. Yeah. Magic1. >.>)
"In Another Life" and "Stray Italian Greyhound", both off Inland, were played during the concert and are *fabulous*. I've had "In Another Life" or "Whatever You Want" (Off Dreaming) stuck in my head pretty much all week. It's nice.
And a further essay concerning Vienna is coming, I just need to type it. Additionally, I may write an essay or something about objectification of artists.
***
Tonight, as a present for Maddiecakes birthday, the two of us wandered over to Harvard to listen to Joss Whedon talk, after recieving the highly esteemed and prestigious Lifetime Achievement Award in Cultural Humanism. It was actually a pretty well put together speech, and definitely raised my largely indifferent2 opinion of Joss several notches.
Afterwards, there was signing, so I have a signed Dr. Horrible DVD. Alas, no personalization, due to the sheer volume of people, but still. Joss's autograph. And yes, mom, I told him you said thanks for putting you in the special features.
***
I have been writing like an absolute *fiend* lately. I know that I have a short story, the aforementioned Vienna essay, and most of the third part of my deep stuff night scrawled down, and I may very well have more that I'm forgetting about. One of these days, I really need to learn how to type. :P
***
By the way, in case I've forgotten to squee, in the past month or so, both Iowa and Vermont have made it okay for the gayfolk to marry each other. That makes FOUR STATES that my little sister can get married in. I am so happy about this.
***
Conor and I played about four rounds of Chrononauts the other night, and determined that we want to play/write/whatever a Time Travel rpg. I'm guessing GURPS might be the most valuable resource, but you lot are smart people. Suggestions?
***
I think that's it for now. I'm gonna go sleep.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Part of why there was no question when I got the oppertunity to actually pay money for some of her music. Oh, Vienna! She is very very good, and will get my money as I have it spare.
2: Oh, he's a good writer, no doubt about it. But about the only thing of his that I have raptures over is Dr. Horrible. I...may have a natural reluctance to fawn over the people that every geek ever worships.
***
I am uncommonly antisocial right now, and have been for a substantial amount of time --at least since Tuesday, possibly since earlier. People = Donotwant.
***
Went to a Vienna Teng concert on Tuesday, which was beautiful and quite needed. Went ahead and bought two of her albums --the brand new one, "Inland Territory", and the second-most-new one, "Dreaming Through the Noise". (Her first two albums I own by..um...magic. Yeah. Magic1. >.>)
"In Another Life" and "Stray Italian Greyhound", both off Inland, were played during the concert and are *fabulous*. I've had "In Another Life" or "Whatever You Want" (Off Dreaming) stuck in my head pretty much all week. It's nice.
And a further essay concerning Vienna is coming, I just need to type it. Additionally, I may write an essay or something about objectification of artists.
***
Tonight, as a present for Maddiecakes birthday, the two of us wandered over to Harvard to listen to Joss Whedon talk, after recieving the highly esteemed and prestigious Lifetime Achievement Award in Cultural Humanism. It was actually a pretty well put together speech, and definitely raised my largely indifferent2 opinion of Joss several notches.
Afterwards, there was signing, so I have a signed Dr. Horrible DVD. Alas, no personalization, due to the sheer volume of people, but still. Joss's autograph. And yes, mom, I told him you said thanks for putting you in the special features.
***
I have been writing like an absolute *fiend* lately. I know that I have a short story, the aforementioned Vienna essay, and most of the third part of my deep stuff night scrawled down, and I may very well have more that I'm forgetting about. One of these days, I really need to learn how to type. :P
***
By the way, in case I've forgotten to squee, in the past month or so, both Iowa and Vermont have made it okay for the gayfolk to marry each other. That makes FOUR STATES that my little sister can get married in. I am so happy about this.
***
Conor and I played about four rounds of Chrononauts the other night, and determined that we want to play/write/whatever a Time Travel rpg. I'm guessing GURPS might be the most valuable resource, but you lot are smart people. Suggestions?
***
I think that's it for now. I'm gonna go sleep.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Part of why there was no question when I got the oppertunity to actually pay money for some of her music. Oh, Vienna! She is very very good, and will get my money as I have it spare.
2: Oh, he's a good writer, no doubt about it. But about the only thing of his that I have raptures over is Dr. Horrible. I...may have a natural reluctance to fawn over the people that every geek ever worships.
(no subject)
Dec. 12th, 2007 05:50 pmHokay, so a bit ago, the standard "tell me # facts that no one knows about you and then tag other people to do this!" meme was circling around the adult portion* of my flist. No one was actually bothering to tag each other, so I arbitrarily decided that doing it was a cool thing, and did.
This time, the magic number is ( eight. (Cut because I am hella verbose) )
Yay, eight facts. And explanations of BtW's and stuff like that.
~Sor
MOOP!
*Adult portion. People who I am friends with in real life, and who were friends with my mom first, and are usually closer in age to her then to me. Different from people who are closer to mom's age then mine, but were my friends first. Those people are filtered as "iiral", along with anyone who didn't go to Long Reach that I know in real life.
This time, the magic number is ( eight. (Cut because I am hella verbose) )
Yay, eight facts. And explanations of BtW's and stuff like that.
~Sor
MOOP!
*Adult portion. People who I am friends with in real life, and who were friends with my mom first, and are usually closer in age to her then to me. Different from people who are closer to mom's age then mine, but were my friends first. Those people are filtered as "iiral", along with anyone who didn't go to Long Reach that I know in real life.
(no subject)
Dec. 9th, 2007 02:41 pmI think that if my past writings are going to make me feel melencholy and empty*, then they should at least also be able to make me giggle.
( File on my USB key labelled 'The Roughest Outline I can Manage' (For my 2006 WriMo novel) (You may want to skip this if you want to read what I wrote first )
Somehow, the line "MYSTERIOUS CHOICE!" cracks me up. Especially as I can't actually remember which time she would've chosen, or indeed, if I had a choice for her at all.
The all-caps to designate humour thing is something I picked up from Questionable Content, along with the term "hurr".
In other news, you can find everything I wrote of said novel over in the Kattales. Linky!
~Sor
MOOP!
(((In other news, it's nice to know that I write myself into almost everything I write. Case in point:
"Boston was, however, one of the most prominant cities in the world, ever since the failed dominator of all mankind declared it her capital. She moved a lot of important stuff up there, and did a lot of very good works for the world and then died spectacularly by tripping while doing a manic victory dance around a bonfire. History can be quite funny sometimes like that."")))
*A lot of the problem is that, when I was fourteen, I was very thoroughly convinced of the idea that you really really really didn't need someone else to be happy. I could grudgingly accept that sometimes people needed to have significant others, but I was convinced that I didn't need anybody else to be happy. Con*vinced*.
And see, that's changed. My emotional stability tends to be somewhat supported by other people at any given point. That's always been true, but it's moreso now. Nowadays, I *need* a partner to keep myself stable and happy, which is so very against my fourteen year old ideal, that it makes me want to scream.
Yep. I'm crazy. What else is new?
( File on my USB key labelled 'The Roughest Outline I can Manage' (For my 2006 WriMo novel) (You may want to skip this if you want to read what I wrote first )
Somehow, the line "MYSTERIOUS CHOICE!" cracks me up. Especially as I can't actually remember which time she would've chosen, or indeed, if I had a choice for her at all.
The all-caps to designate humour thing is something I picked up from Questionable Content, along with the term "hurr".
In other news, you can find everything I wrote of said novel over in the Kattales. Linky!
~Sor
MOOP!
(((In other news, it's nice to know that I write myself into almost everything I write. Case in point:
"Boston was, however, one of the most prominant cities in the world, ever since the failed dominator of all mankind declared it her capital. She moved a lot of important stuff up there, and did a lot of very good works for the world and then died spectacularly by tripping while doing a manic victory dance around a bonfire. History can be quite funny sometimes like that."")))
*A lot of the problem is that, when I was fourteen, I was very thoroughly convinced of the idea that you really really really didn't need someone else to be happy. I could grudgingly accept that sometimes people needed to have significant others, but I was convinced that I didn't need anybody else to be happy. Con*vinced*.
And see, that's changed. My emotional stability tends to be somewhat supported by other people at any given point. That's always been true, but it's moreso now. Nowadays, I *need* a partner to keep myself stable and happy, which is so very against my fourteen year old ideal, that it makes me want to scream.
Yep. I'm crazy. What else is new?
(no subject)
Dec. 5th, 2007 02:51 amThis bridge was written
to make you feel smitten
With my sad picture
of girl getting bitter
Oh can you extract me
from my plastic fantasy
I didn't think so
But I'm still convincible
Will you persist
Even after I bet you
A million dollars
That I'll never love you
And will you persist
even after I kissed you
goodbye for the last time
will you keep on trying
to prove that I'm dying
to lose it, I'm losing
my confidence
I want it
I want it
I want it
I want it
I want to
I want to
I want to
I want to
I want you
I want you
I want you
I want you
I want a
I want a
I...want...a...
I......want......a......
coin operated boy
***
'When normal people get stressed, they eat more and sleep more and drink more caffinee and punch things, and work out their stress in rational ways. When I get stressed, I write. Come to think of it, when I get happy I write. And sad. And angry. Oh bollocks, writing is my comfort food, isn't it?'
***
Hehehe, more flistspam! You poor poor people, you didn't sign up for this. But that's the beauty of having a livejournal --I can write all sorts of loads and loads of shit, and I'll just assume you'll skip it if you aren't interested. Or something. You should still all go vote in my poll so I know to get you a Holiday card.
Allfornow.
~Sor
MOOP!
ToPost:
Nettiquite question involving changing security level
Bit of ramble on certain phraseology
Something else from my notebook
ToDo lists
Aig, stress!
to make you feel smitten
With my sad picture
of girl getting bitter
Oh can you extract me
from my plastic fantasy
I didn't think so
But I'm still convincible
Will you persist
Even after I bet you
A million dollars
That I'll never love you
And will you persist
even after I kissed you
goodbye for the last time
will you keep on trying
to prove that I'm dying
to lose it, I'm losing
my confidence
I want it
I want it
I want it
I want it
I want to
I want to
I want to
I want to
I want you
I want you
I want you
I want you
I want a
I want a
I...want...a...
I......want......a......
coin operated boy
***
'When normal people get stressed, they eat more and sleep more and drink more caffinee and punch things, and work out their stress in rational ways. When I get stressed, I write. Come to think of it, when I get happy I write. And sad. And angry. Oh bollocks, writing is my comfort food, isn't it?'
***
Hehehe, more flistspam! You poor poor people, you didn't sign up for this. But that's the beauty of having a livejournal --I can write all sorts of loads and loads of shit, and I'll just assume you'll skip it if you aren't interested. Or something. You should still all go vote in my poll so I know to get you a Holiday card.
Allfornow.
~Sor
MOOP!
ToPost:
Nettiquite question involving changing security level
Bit of ramble on certain phraseology
Something else from my notebook
ToDo lists
Aig, stress!
So, last Tuesday I had an emo attack of the *worst* sort, which led to me curled up on the floor crying and holding my boxcutter. Not cutting myself, not cutting anything else (although I was tempted to butcher my jeans just as an outlet) just playing with it. Eventually, my brain kicked in and went all "hurr, you're a writer, why don't you write on yourself instead of not-cut yourself. Doesn't hurt anyone!"
So...I did. I wrote an exceptionally emo poem called "Litany of Hate" using myself as the canvas. I wrote it mostly on my arms and legs, and have done my best to reproduce the not COMPLETELY behind the walls bits here:
( Said poem. An unhealthy combination of emo and 'Why Sorcy is effed up' version point whatever beneath the cut. Own risk, blabla )
So! Results.
( In which Sorcy does manage to metadiscuss the above poem and some of the ramifications it had on her, but also spends quite a bit of time digressing about movies, being distractable, and plotting lesbian biblophiliac porn. )
Logically, I think the next thing to do would be an analysis of the poem itself, but I'm bored of writing this, and will do so later. (Later here having a meaning ofbroken'never'. [/scruffy!Norrington]) I'm off to go scrawl down random things in the writersjournal about bits of world that I have been building since sixth grade. Ta!
~Sor
MOOP!
(((Apropos of nothing, I appear to have coined a new term in the dictionary of useful Kat-stuffs. Before the Walls. It's the general equivilant of things that are behind the walls, except that you lot get to read it.)))
Postscript: My English class is rubbing off on me. I actually went back and fixed the text of the second cut so that it had proper parrallelism. On a side note, what does ETA mean? I got that it's some sort of "I edited this" shorthand, but I don't actually know the rest.
So...I did. I wrote an exceptionally emo poem called "Litany of Hate" using myself as the canvas. I wrote it mostly on my arms and legs, and have done my best to reproduce the not COMPLETELY behind the walls bits here:
( Said poem. An unhealthy combination of emo and 'Why Sorcy is effed up' version point whatever beneath the cut. Own risk, blabla )
So! Results.
( In which Sorcy does manage to metadiscuss the above poem and some of the ramifications it had on her, but also spends quite a bit of time digressing about movies, being distractable, and plotting lesbian biblophiliac porn. )
Logically, I think the next thing to do would be an analysis of the poem itself, but I'm bored of writing this, and will do so later. (Later here having a meaning of
~Sor
MOOP!
(((Apropos of nothing, I appear to have coined a new term in the dictionary of useful Kat-stuffs. Before the Walls. It's the general equivilant of things that are behind the walls, except that you lot get to read it.)))
Postscript: My English class is rubbing off on me. I actually went back and fixed the text of the second cut so that it had proper parrallelism. On a side note, what does ETA mean? I got that it's some sort of "I edited this" shorthand, but I don't actually know the rest.
Just a meme...
Feb. 28th, 2006 11:34 amIf you had me alone...locked up in your house for twenty-four hours and I had to do whatever you wanted me to, what would you do with me? All replies will be permanently screened because it's a secret. Then repost this in your LJ. You might be surprised with the responses you get.
Real entries later.
Maybe.
I finished my first novel today! I found the almost done NaNo novel I did in 05, and I wrote out an ending, and yes, there's a ton of stuff that needs to be fixed, but I FINISHED MY FIRST FULL NOVEL!!!!!
Kat is a happy Kat.
~Sor
Real entries later.
Maybe.
I finished my first novel today! I found the almost done NaNo novel I did in 05, and I wrote out an ending, and yes, there's a ton of stuff that needs to be fixed, but I FINISHED MY FIRST FULL NOVEL!!!!!
Kat is a happy Kat.
~Sor
