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![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) omnivorously | |
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Got up. Started vacuuming, rearranging the furniture. Did things like wash the Brita filter and clean the minifridge inside and out. Did laundry. Didn't eat enough. Got sluggish, apathetic. Took another half of Zoloft. Ordered a sandwich (yum.) Got ... agitated when the second Zoloft hit. Did not stop being agitated for awhile. Napped, later than I should have. Felt trippy and loopy when I woke up. Called Sarah eventually, and calmed down right quick. (Note to self: Call ppl sooner. Yes, even if you feel completely loony, they won't mind, and sometimes you need to get the fuck out of your own head.) Drank tea and futzed around. Made bed and finally put duvet cover back on duvet, after how many weeks? Cleared floor, or at least concentrated all the floor-mess out of the way. So now it is getting on toward 5 am. I like where my furniture is, except that I can't find a place for the mini-fridge, well, I can, but I don't like it there, but the hum it makes is annoying anyway. And I'm not entirely sure about the distribution of floor lamps and what direction my chair will face. But I think I'm generally set. I know that tomorrow I'll want to just keep re-organizing. But no, I've got get to work on the At Swim paper. Problem is, tomorrow is graduation. It'd just be ... weird, to go on campus with a backpack in order to write a paper. I could try in my room; there's that random room next to the laundry room (no internet!); um, um ... and see, I'm not sure what buildings are open when, everything's on weird schedules right now. But I know Canaday will be open some time in the afternoon, and is open till midnight ... Meh, whatever. The paper will be crap no matter what, which is why I'm kinda relaxed about the fact that I didn't get anything done today at all. So long as I have an outline, I can bang out the pages. Wanna write fic, damnit. Oh, and I've been reading The Spirit Ring by Lois McMaster Bujold, which I definitely recommend. Magic/religion + politics = exciting. The fact that there are certain characters and relationships which I see repeated in her work makes this a little weaker (Hetwar // Illyan; the emotionally closed-off loner man getting together with a younger unexperienced but spunky woman, like in Sharing Knife, and maybe even Cordelia and Aral in he sci-fi series), but it's a damn good read even if I'm pretty sure none of the characters are going to infest my head in any way. Current Music: birds
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![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) filk
singingnymph | |
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I wrote this back in March of 2005.
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a hybrid Accord
The gas prices these days, I cannot afford
Our oil industry is out of its gourd
So Lord, won't you buy me a hybrid Accord
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a brand new PC
And while you're at it, how about a T3
My hard drive's as small as a dried up chickpea
So Lord, won't you buy me a brand new PC
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a freakin' BA
Thanks to fee raises, it's harder to pay
Prove that you love me; forgive my loans today
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a freakin' BA
Everybody!
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a hybrid Accord
The gas prices these days, I cannot afford
Our oil industry is out of its gourd
So Lord, won't you buy me a hybrid Accord
*HUGS*
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padparadscha | |
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International Museum Day
Trinity Sunday (Christian)
Visit Your Relatives Day
Birthday - Mother's Whistler So I’ve been stalling reworking my Hive First Contact story, which I’ve been thinking of sending into the Captain Crazypants L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future contest. I’ve been a bit reticent for a few reasons: - The idea of
Captain Crazypants L. Ron Hubbard’s name getting anywhere near what I do is somewhat unnerving, even if its connection is loose. I don’t know if I want to have anything to do with a drugged-up nutjob who founded one of the most pervasive scam cults of this century. But on the other hand, it’s also tied to a lot of writers who aren’t part of Scientology, and there are valuable cash prizes, which is always something to consider. - I don’t have any black ink for my printer, and I keep forgetting to get some. This is a purely technical problem, but it does sort of hinder getting your manuscript out, and I don’t think I can squeak by with blue ink like I can for school papers.
- Also, there’s been something wrong with the story. The stakes needed raising, and I could not figure out how to do that with the logistics I’d worked out for this story.
The second one was the main problem. Something wasn’t going together. I had no idea how to keep these people on the planet after it got dangerous. I had to raise the stakes somehow, force them to action, and I was just staring at the plot going, “But the other choices aren’t logical!” Then, suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. I would strand them there. Okay, it’s not so brilliant or original. In fact, it’s sort of a cliché. But you know what? I think it works this time. It’s a good foundational reason for our heroes to be there, and it nudges the plot forward and fixes the details. It’s simple and effective, and fixes a lot of the questions readers may have about the story. I feel so damn good when that happens. Funny how straightforward a solution can be, and how it can be staring you in the face the whole time. In other writing news! I seem to have entered a loose compact with kittikattie to fix the ending of The Chronicles of Narnia with regards to Susan, with each of us providing our own take on what could happen to her after the end of the series. We’ve both got damn good ideas. For my part, I get to resuscitate a plotbunny that’s been cryogenically frozen since back when I first read The Last Battle in—I dunno, fifth or sixth grade? It involves a lot of cool magical adventures, psychological torment, and also a bit where Aslan gets his smug ass took down a peg. I still think it’s a pretty good idea. As for kittikattie’s idea, you’ll have to ask her about it. Current Mood:  writey
Current Music: ner ner ner ner ner ner ner ner BATMAN!
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