I've started using my tumblr more and more recently, so if you have a tumblr, y'all should go find me. I'm phantomwise over there.

I am currently drawing a map of my fictional city, which is proving to be interesting. The damn thing is about 3.5 by 3 feet big and the scale is all off the walls, of course, but drawing in the streets is very zen in a way. Like doing a jigsaw puzzle.

( 16 A4 papers. Or thereabout. )

Nothing much else to report, other than that Ryan Ross is still one of my favorites, even though he has the intelligence of a flobberworm. I can't even amass the energy to be upset with him right now, mostly I'm just laughing incredulously and facepalming, because he's a fucking moron.

So, yesterday, while I was in the middle of writing and talking to Steph and being bored, my sister unexpectedly calls and tells me she's in town, and she's dropping by with both her kids (Joel and Carl, 2 and 5 years old). I went \o/ OMG I NEED TO CLEAN MY APT, so I rushed around doing what I could for fifteen minutes, which means clearing the table and taking out the trash.

And it was lovely. I love my sister and I adore her kids, and Carl and Joel loves my big echoey apartment. They ran from room to room going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAHHHHHHH and Joel tried to drink out of the ashtray I still keep on the balcony. My grossed out face, let me show you it.

We went grocery shopping and my sister paid for the lot, so while I was waffling around making noises at flour bags and cans of beans and fruit my sister was all, "Jesus Christ, I'm paying, take the lot!" Four bags of groceries, if I'd had a roomie, I'd have been in BIG trouble, because the shared pantry is completely filled. I bought a 5kg sack of flour, it was GLORIOUS. And yet, I still forgot to buy tomatoes. Balls.

Anyway, I got a hamburger out of the deal as well, and Joel had much fun with the couches at McD's. "Couch! Jumpin' onna couch! *face plastered against the window* Caaaaaaaaaar!!" God, I'm so CHARMED by these kids. ♥____________♥

Anyway, while I'm trying to write on the Dreaded Sequel -- I have figured out the plot for the first half or so! I'm so HAPPY -- y'all can distract me with this meme:

Comment with a request to see absolutely anything on my computer. My desktop, my documents, my bookmarks, my inbox, secret stash of pornography, latest works in progress... whatever you're curious about, and I will respond with a screenshot.

Annnnnnd GO.

I'm kind of bored now, and hungry, and have paint all over, but I'm painting shit! With oils even, which just makes the whole thing interesting. I love working with oils, you know? The colors and the textures and the blend of it, and the way you can get a different texture with a different brush or just shorter or longer strokes. Also, something about the fact that you can work on an oil painting for forever and a day is kind of soothing. I can go back to that thing and add even more lemon yellow and white and dabs of vermilion to the sky to get that pearly hue of right before sunset. This is why I love painting ocean views. I can spend forever on trying to get the color of the ocean right, blues, greens, yellow, a dash of red, a little white, some yellow ochre... a dab of charcoal to mix with the blues to get that blurry line of the horizon.

God, I love art sometimes.

In other news, I have some weird looking discoloration of the skin on my thigh. It looks like bruises, but it isn't, and I have no idea what to make of it. On advice from Steph and my mother, I have called the clinic and have an appointment for Thursday to check it out. Better be safe than sorry, I suppose.

Therapy went well today, and despite a slow start, I still felt like I got somewhere. I actually think that the marathon poetry writing sessions I've been doing have helped. I get to put all my fears and insecurities and dreams and hopes onto paper and can ramble until I've sorted them out in my head. That's the way I do things, mostly, I talk until I have a solution. It's kind of zen, in a way, to actually SAY all those things, the things I've been too afraid to say out loud for fear of disappointing people. So, yes. I feel pretty good. And we talked a lot about the issues I have with relating to people my own age and my sneaky social phobias, which I felt I needed.

I've spoken to my sister and my mother lately, which is nice, because I finally feel like I'm being honest with them. It feels a lot like I've gotten past a hurdle, especially with Mom. I think she finally sees that a lot of my reactions are the same as hers, I just relate to them in a different way, and I'm finally getting that Mom might be sad, but I can tell her these things. It's still difficult to talk about, but. I actually think my breakdown the weekend before last and the resulting poetry binge has been good for me. I feel like my head is clearer, which works for me.

I'm feeling kind of creative again, finally, but I'm still avoiding The Sequel like the plague. I keep blaming Sirius, but I'm fucking stuck, and just looking at the thing makes me a little cranky. Which is a shame, because my head is full of Jesters right now, and I want to write about them. Writing about Shea kind of makes me happy, because despite everything he's such a positive person, and he may be a douchebag, but there is this sort of childish glee in everything that he does that is just so wonderful to write. All the Jesters are like that, kind of, they're like kittens, curious and wide-eyed and full of mischief. Even exploring the angstiest of emotions becomes interesting, because they're just as into it as I am.

Anyway, I'm going to get me something to eat now. How are you all doing?

So I just read an entry cleolinda just posted. She is, if you're unaware, kind of a multifandom profile -- she posts linkspams on all sorts of media related topics, writes reviews and parodies on movies, and has written the single best recaps of the Twilight books I have ever read. But, back to this entry, allow me to quote back at you.

forget whether I can sell the books themselves, can I write something that will make dozens if not hundreds of respected professionals--producers, directors, actors, production designers, costume designers, composers, special effects supervisors, publicity departments, even toy manufacturers--sit around and gush ever so earnestly about how they just wanted to honor my vision and the spirit of my book and my beloved characters and my fabulous wonderful creative visionary blah blah blah blah blah. Can I inspire people to those lengths? And I sit there in a cold sweat and go, "I can't, I can't do that, I can't sit here in front of a blank document and birth this instant cultural phenomenon, I can't write books that people will line up at midnight in the cold for, I can't write original characters that people will get into violent shipping wars over, I can't write something that will make 6000 people pile up at conventions and scream their faces off, I can't live up to that, I can't do it, oh God, oh God, oh God, I think I'm going to throw up now."

( Allow me to ramble about this for a short while. )

Ganked this from momebie.

I am: Isaac Asimov One of the most prolific writers in history, on any imaginable subject. Cared little for art but created lasting and memorable tales.

Which science fiction writer are you?

*snort* Oh, yeah, I fucking wish.

In related news, I'm writing! Almost 2k today! I'm all kinds of thrilled, lemme tell ya. I've managed the first chapter on the sequel, tentatively titled Flee the Coming Dark, which isn't the most imaginative title, but no one ever said I wasn't literal minded about some things.

Um. So I'm going to say this now.

Pretty Little Monsters is at 92,040 words. That's 201 pages. That's 28 chapters. That's 4 and a half months of work.

IT'S FINISHED, MOTHERFUCKERS.

Pretty Little Monsters, my first novel, is finished.

So, I'm catching up with a lot of sci fi fandom meta that's been blowing all around the house the last month in the wake of RaceFail and the pissiness between the old school book fans and the media fans. I don't really have a lot to add to that discussion, except for two things:

( Thinky thoughts. A little about pseudonymity, but mostly about race and underrepresentation of various minorities in sci-fi. And didn't I sound fantastically pretentious saying that, just now? )

So. New roommate moved in and a few people have gotten to hear more than their fair share about this one. She's Chinese and perfectly lovely, but the first couple of days were FRAUGHT, lemme tell ya. First of all, it's a new person with new tics and new (slightly odd) habits and new smells, so that was difficult enough. Add to that the fact that we have zero furniture and we don't understand more than maybe 50% of what the other person says and that she didn't know how to use the vacuum cleaner or the goddamn toaster and my breakdown last Saturday may seem a bit more understandable. I feel kind of responsible for her too -- new person, new country, I feel like I need to keep her entertained all the damn time.

But it's working out. She's lived here a week now and I feel like we're getting into a groove -- i.e. she gets up at 6, she fucks off at about 8 when I wake up, and then I don't see her until about 5pm, it works.

Since Monday I've also been on a loose sort of schedule. I can't keep a structured life to save my life, partly because I don't feel like it and partly because I just plain forget, so I've got a little help now. Cell phone giving an alarm whenever I need to do something -- call someone, go somewhere, eat, shower, sleep -- and a schedule on the wall so it's there and I don't forget it. I'm actually very proud of myself, because since he introduced it last week and I tried it myself for a couple of days, I've done a number of difficult things, like for example looked for a job and made actual dinners and bought a dining room table. I mean, just today I went a round with my CV again. Also, I've been keeping good hours. The past three or four days I've actually gotten up at 8am and DONE shit.

I've also written shit, and I'm pretty pleased about that. So here are a couple of word counters for your viewing pleasure.

The current getyourwordsout word count:

35,209 / 300,000 (11.7%)

And the word count for PLM:

73,771 / 354,000 (20.8%)

Happy New Year, kids. It's been '09 out here for an hour and a half at this point, and I'm wearing a red tank top that looks so good on me I'm considering hitting on myself.

So, originally, I was just going to post something little, but I think now that I'm here, I might as well talk a little about the year past. '08 was... great in some ways. I met a lot of you, I got better friends with a whole bunch, and I don't know what I would do without you all. New albums -- Pretty. Odd., The Black Parade is Dead!, Howl, and Folie A Deux most notably -- and bandom turning into one long Christmas starting in November with the MCR blog and Twitter and the Panic things and everything.

It probably says something that all the good things this year were directly or indirectly related to my fandom. Someone told me once, on a love meme, that I was in love with fandom and my whole flist and I am, I really am.

But aside from that, '08 has been an awful fucking year for me. My life is in smoking ruins at this point, because when I noticed that the ship was going down, it was too late to do anything but to try to minimize the impact. I've been suicidally depressed for the first time in years, and even though I've seen a therapist, he can only do so much. I've bombed pretty much every responsibility I have, I'm poor as a church mouse and I live off my parents. I don't grow, I don't create, I can't take care of myself, and sometimes I can't breathe because getting out of it seems like more than I can handle. Of course, this isn't new, but it's something I've discovered this year. This has been the longest year ever, and yet here I am.

I'm still alive. I suppose that counts for something. I'm still physically unblemished, and my soul may be tarnished and I may have hit rock bottom but I'm clawing my way back up. I'll use my teeth if I have to, but I am getting out of this.

I'm being careful with resolutions this year, but I have a few. The first one is keep seeing my therapist, because I need him if I ever want to breathe again. The second is to just relax and try to figure out what I want, not try to please everybody else. The third is learn to take care of myself, or at least start to.

The fourth is maybe the most important of all: to create. I want to write, that's the only thing I know I want to do, the only thing about my future that makes sense. I signed up for getyourwordsout and I'm going to try my hand at 300k during 2009. I'm not sure how that's going to work out, but it's the only thing I can do. My therapist suggested it to me, last time, and it shocked me into stillness. "If writing is what you want to do, write," he said. "Take a job, something that doesn't require homework or assignments, something that will leave you time for writing. Finish something, anything."

I'm going to do that. And it scares the crap out of me, but I'm going to do it. I have to.

So, in essence, I'm going to make more use of my writing filter than I have this month. I'm also... I hope I'll get better at commenting too, I mean. I feel like a useless friend and a selfish douche, because I can't give you guys the attention you deserve. I apologize for that, and I can only say that I try. I always read everything though. So.

Goodbye, 2008. You sucked balls, and I hope you die in a fire, but you had some shiny spots. Let's hope 2009 is better, yeah?

Alright, guys, so it's poll time again. This is about my writing filter and my NaNo, but! Even if you're already on the filter, I would like you to answer the second poll, please.

Okay, so for those of you just tuning in, so you know what you're getting yourself in on: I've had a writing filter for a while now and during the frolicking month of November I've been posting my NaNo there. This is a tale of... well, a lot of things. Technofantasy, I call it. I post a number of things on this filter, not just snippets of original writing. I have posts on world building -- architecture, species, religions, politics, etc. -- as well as characters and other such things. Thus, new friends, have a poll:

Poll #1306193
Open to: Friends, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 25

Do you want to be on my writing filter?

Old hats, this one's for you (but new friends can answer too)! I'm curious if there is an interest for this or not, if anyone does want to read to the end of the current tale, even though above mentioned frolicking month of November is over. So!

Poll #1306194
Open to: Friends, detailed results viewable to: None, participants: 29

Should I continue posting my NaNo even though November is over on Monday?

Steph and I started trying to cast my NaNo just now, and it proved difficult. Seriously? Shea (my main character, for those of you just tuning in) is fucking hopeless to cast. I have such a picture of him in my head, trying to force some actor or whatever in that part makes my brain hurt. That being said, I did find one person that always reminds me of Shea.

( Actually, thinking about it... Shea looks a little bit like Brendon. )

What? Look, I'm just trying to stay awake, guys.

Linn: Don't really have great romances me. I'm not good at them, I don't think.
Bee: I like them, but in real life they're mostly about ust.
Linn: They are. I like the UST, but you can only do so much. Which is why Shea and Zareth hook up only a couple of days upon meeting each other.
Linn: I mean, my romances in this universe? Oh, let me count the ways...
Linn: Insta-attraction and infatuation, like Shea and Zareth. YEARS of stupid pining, then a secret relationship, a la Kamion and Leia. Incredibly fucked up hate sex/pining, semi-incest, straight up incest, more incest, UST-but-no-actual-RST incest cum necrophilia, incest with babies, fuckbuddyship, marriage, gay marriage, secret marriage, demon mating, denial, more hate sex but with babies and murder, semi-bestiality, S/d relationships... there are probably more, but these are the ones I can think of off the top of my head.
Bee: hahahahaha
Bee: such range
Linn: Indeed

Riiiiight. Weird day today, what with the election and everything. Thought I would get more done today, but no such luck. I'm hoping once I hit Sirius that things will get a little smoother, because that's the interesting bit anyway. Answers finally, Jesus.

Word count!

19,321 / 50,000 (38.6%)

Still, nearly 3k. Works, I suppose, even though I had to fight for every single one of them. This is kind of a weird scene again and I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with it again. There are parts of it, but truth be told I am missing Shea a little bit right now. The glue that keeps the Jesters together, he is, you'll notice by the way they keep talking about him all the time. And if you're curious of him, imagine how Zareth feels. But on the upside I have Andie, who, as I told Steph today, is kind of like the monkey lovechild of Pete Wentz and Brendon Urie, as raised by Frank Iero and Cash Colligan. Because she is a little punkass shit made of fail.

Anyway! When we left our kids they were just going to get Alex' husband, TJ.

( His name is Cavanaugh. TJ Cavanaugh. Do you know him? I have it on good authority that he’s kind of hard to miss. Although I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean exactly. )

Okay! So today has been draaaaaaaaaagging in the NaNo department -- AGAIN -- but I did still manage to get my shit together and write 3k+ since yesterday. I'm dead tired now and going to bed, but this is the next installment right here. So today!

16,344 / 50,000 (32.7%)

It's something! And I'm past the 1/3rd point so I' happy anyway. Now, I was threatened with bodily harm if I didn't post more of this shit tonight -- my BFF's exact words were, I believe, "I DEMAND MORE JESTERS. I WANT THEM YESTERDAY." -- so here we are. I'm reposting the first bit of Draco's scene here, because I cut at a very awkward point yesterday. I'm not entirely pleased with this scene. It turned out weird and not at all what I had in mind and Draco's demonness didn't get across the way I wanted it too either, but it is what it is, so...

( There was only one person in the world that smelled like that, smelled like home and safe and belonging and a million other scents that all boiled down to the same thing – Leader. )

I'm probably going to bed soon (I'm an old lady, it's awesome. Ryan Ross should call me, we can be 90 together), so I'm posting the 3k+ words I've written since I posted yesterday.

But first, our regularly scheduled wordcounter:

12,739 / 50,000 (25.3%)

When we left our friends yesterday, Alex had just been talking to his hubby on the screen and broken my heart in the process. These following scenes are not some I'm very pleased with as such, they feel a little silly and needless, but, you know what? Fuck it. This is what it is. And I did end up falling a little bit in love with Grumpy McScrooge toward the end, so that made up for some of it.

( Today, Alex’ kind of mopey thoughts wandered so far that he almost bowled over the very, very pretty Starchild standing in the middle of his way. )

Guys, guys! I HAVE WRITTEN 5K TODAY. *flails* Jesus. The scene with Elyse just flew by, so that felt good.

The NaNo sites hates me tonight, so we'll use this instead for the time being.

9,544 / 50,000 (19.1%)

Now this is the rest of what I wrote today. When we left our girls, Andie was just being taken by Dr. Mattin to be tortured do some testing.

( She looked awful – hair messy, face puffy and swollen, eyes red, nose snotty – and she was the most beautiful thing Elyse had ever seen. )

&ALEEEEX;

(Um. My Alex. Alex Cavanaugh. Not any other Alex. Damn bandom.)

Okay, guys. I'm getting really tired so I don't think I'll be getting much more out of this fic. The widgets are a little wonky, but this one is for posterity:



So, this is the 3420 words I have written so far today, wherein Zareth is awkward and Andie is a brat. Yeah. I figured I would post it here as I go along so that those of you who're interested can follow the story from beginning to end.

Tentatively titled Pretty Little Monsters, technofantasy and kind of weird.

( Andie could think of at least a dozen things she’d rather be doing than dying, up to and including beating herself over the head with her own arm. )

By the way, I figured I should ask. My original writing filter is henceforth also going to serve as my NaNo filter, because I'm a lazy bastard and everything is there already. Soooo.

Poll #1289098 NaNo!
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 31

Do you want to be on my origific filter and listen to me angst about NaNo?