Burn it to a Crisp
This LJ update is brought to you by Reynolds foil wrap. My brain is fried like chicken. Tasty!
I had some free time today, and I took that oppurtunity to consider my writing aspirations thus far. You see, I've always wanted to write a novel. (Two, if the first one takes off properly.) But there's more I'd like to do with my writing. It sounds trite, but the idea of writing for comic books is something I'd like to try a hand at. Jim Lee and Jeph Loeb get to take these characters that everyone knows, and use them. I'm, in the least, jealous. The jealousy burns.
But I digress, I've got a few projects I'm working on write now. I'm still working through the plot of my novel, but I'm also working on script work along with a group of short stories. I figured if I can write at least a few decent things, I can send them to someone. I'll take anyone at this point.
Hey, anyone remember that band 'Heart'? They're playing on my computer right now. They make me smile.
I was hoping that by the end of the day I would have something remotely intelligent, or at least empathetic, about Dana Reeve's death. All I can honestly say is that it sucks. Her death confirms my belief in two things. One: Second-hand smoke really can kill. Two: There's gotta be a heaven, becuase I cannot see why someone who was doing so many good things would be taken away, unless to go some place better. I raise my slightly dented aluminun glass (actually, it's more like a can, but hell, I'm being symbolic) in honor of the Reeves, all of them.
I'm chillin in BAM tomorrow night with my sociology book. We got some quality time to catch up on. Straight up.
I had some free time today, and I took that oppurtunity to consider my writing aspirations thus far. You see, I've always wanted to write a novel. (Two, if the first one takes off properly.) But there's more I'd like to do with my writing. It sounds trite, but the idea of writing for comic books is something I'd like to try a hand at. Jim Lee and Jeph Loeb get to take these characters that everyone knows, and use them. I'm, in the least, jealous. The jealousy burns.
But I digress, I've got a few projects I'm working on write now. I'm still working through the plot of my novel, but I'm also working on script work along with a group of short stories. I figured if I can write at least a few decent things, I can send them to someone. I'll take anyone at this point.
Hey, anyone remember that band 'Heart'? They're playing on my computer right now. They make me smile.
I was hoping that by the end of the day I would have something remotely intelligent, or at least empathetic, about Dana Reeve's death. All I can honestly say is that it sucks. Her death confirms my belief in two things. One: Second-hand smoke really can kill. Two: There's gotta be a heaven, becuase I cannot see why someone who was doing so many good things would be taken away, unless to go some place better. I raise my slightly dented aluminun glass (actually, it's more like a can, but hell, I'm being symbolic) in honor of the Reeves, all of them.
I'm chillin in BAM tomorrow night with my sociology book. We got some quality time to catch up on. Straight up.