For some disreputable date
New rule: I am not allowed to sign up for any bookbinding class until I have successfully cleared the jewellery stock box so that it can either be my bookbinding box or contain my jewellery-making stuff (which will involve getting rid of some of my hoarded crap). This requires Jess to photograph things and me to list them.
Today: Was going to go out and buy more fabric to make some of the exciting things I have come up with, but diverted myself and went shopping for basic necessities like short leggings, hair bands, bobby pins (where the fuck do they all go? I don't even use them that often), new clean chopsticks as my telescoping ones have become revolting, and perfume because fuck you that's why. Almost all of these needs were served in the general region of Bond Street, including a visit to the river Tyburn as it flows through the basement market at Gray's.
I need to fix a pair of shorts so that they are actually shorts, put a new zip in old trousers because it broke, and dye some webbing so I can finally finish a lunatic project from ages ago. I need to do research. I need to edit. I have a fanfic I'm about 1/3 of the way through. The weather outside is forboding. I want to go back to sleep. There are nine thousand things I want to do or ought to do.
Clooooooose the interneeeeeet.
(I'm also engaged in a not-argument with godiseven by email which originally began as a discussion about writing motivation and methods [if anyone wants to talk about this you all have my email/know how much I enjoy bollocking on about this thing that I currently never do] and which has descended into me trying to escape any kind of accolade attached to Hamiltwins because I looked at it recently and and all I can see is flaw upon flaw and immature writing GYAD)
Note from editing The Circle, as previously observed by Elena: not only are the narratorial asides symptomatic of me trying to pre-empt criticisms or awkward questions that NO ONE BUT ME was going to ask, they reek of ass-covering and have been slipping into the main body of the text. I'm not cutting as much as I'd hoped at the moment but damn if I'm not cutting those fuckers.
Also while I am a little over, if I include the prologue I may have successfully come close to shaving the first act down to 30k, which seems a reasonable length. [the second act also needs to be in that region and I fear that may be harder]
I would dearly like to be good at this thing.
Today: Was going to go out and buy more fabric to make some of the exciting things I have come up with, but diverted myself and went shopping for basic necessities like short leggings, hair bands, bobby pins (where the fuck do they all go? I don't even use them that often), new clean chopsticks as my telescoping ones have become revolting, and perfume because fuck you that's why. Almost all of these needs were served in the general region of Bond Street, including a visit to the river Tyburn as it flows through the basement market at Gray's.
I need to fix a pair of shorts so that they are actually shorts, put a new zip in old trousers because it broke, and dye some webbing so I can finally finish a lunatic project from ages ago. I need to do research. I need to edit. I have a fanfic I'm about 1/3 of the way through. The weather outside is forboding. I want to go back to sleep. There are nine thousand things I want to do or ought to do.
Clooooooose the interneeeeeet.
(I'm also engaged in a not-argument with godiseven by email which originally began as a discussion about writing motivation and methods [if anyone wants to talk about this you all have my email/know how much I enjoy bollocking on about this thing that I currently never do] and which has descended into me trying to escape any kind of accolade attached to Hamiltwins because I looked at it recently and and all I can see is flaw upon flaw and immature writing GYAD)
Note from editing The Circle, as previously observed by Elena: not only are the narratorial asides symptomatic of me trying to pre-empt criticisms or awkward questions that NO ONE BUT ME was going to ask, they reek of ass-covering and have been slipping into the main body of the text. I'm not cutting as much as I'd hoped at the moment but damn if I'm not cutting those fuckers.
Also while I am a little over, if I include the prologue I may have successfully come close to shaving the first act down to 30k, which seems a reasonable length. [the second act also needs to be in that region and I fear that may be harder]
I would dearly like to be good at this thing.