"the grief she felt once, hardly knowing she felt it, to merely inhabit herself"

[black_eyedgirl]

I am very glad to have finished the Dystopia-fic, even if I don't like it anymore. There's only so many times you can kill people before it starts to affect you. We end up in the eternal question of: am I miserable because of what I write, or do I write what I write because I'm miserable?

I just need a better job, really. Too much racism and homophobia and terrible boredom at mine. Anyone want to start a theatre company with me?

Oh, news:

• You can now find me at: GreatestJournal and InsaneJournal. There's no content as of now, but if you friend me, at least we won't lose each other in the event of fannish outage.
• I'm also on del.icio.us which is surprisingly awesome. If anyone else is on it, network sharing would be cool.
  
  
• Dresden Files was cancelled... :( Why do so many things I love end ignominiously?


• Edinburgh was wonderful. We saw: Part 1 of the Torchsong Trilogy; The Rover; A Work in Progress; Macbeth: Who Is That Bloodied Man?; The Real Inspector Hound; Romeo & Juliet - A Rock and Roll Love Story; The Bacchae. Think that's it. But seven in three days wasn't bad, was it? The Bacchae was beautiful. With flaming walls and Alan Cumming in a dress and poppies planting themselves in the ground. And A Work in Progress was this meta-ish work on writing and genre and the lives of characters outside the work. It had Mum and I laughing in that slightly hysterical fashion. And it made me feel bad for some of my poor characters...


• Disney was also beautiful, but I want to know what it would be like to do it on my own, offpeak. Where maybe people might decide to speak to me in French instead of giving up when they realise I'm British. I do love Disney though. If I was in California I would have an annual pass, and go watch all the shows.