A slight case of delirium
New Words: 1, 463
Total Words: 29, 232
Deadline/Target: July
Reason for stopping: I couldn’t strain myself anymore, because the scene really demanded a lot of attention to detail.
Sample: Here she was running from starved shadow demon hounds, twice for the same week, and listened to a seductive male voice in her head, who urged her to step into puddles of blood that increased her speed. Quite frankly, she had no idea what was worse. Why does this happen to me? Persistent death attempts are reserved for the heroes.
Good things: I think I got a good action scene going on with introduction to the Nightmare dimension, although Samantha doesn’t quite know it. The vision is original in my opinion.
Bad things: This scene may be a bit too big for me to take at the first draft or at all, which is a pity. I have problem with my focus, getting deeper in her head and placing the internals at the right time. I am relaxed though, cause eventually I will get it.
Real life: The weather is really strange today, since it rains and the sun is shining at the same time. It’s cold as well and my hands and feet feel like dead meat. I hate my slow blood circulation. Anyways I posted a review about my favorite anime “D.Gray Man” over at Temple Library Reviews.
Today I am going to sacrifice my hair in order to appease my parents. Disturbing, really. I want it a bit longer so that my damn cheeks won’t look like balloon fish, but whatever. It will grow back, it always does and hopefully will until I am 80.
I also estimated that I am waiting for ten marvelous books to arrive and sadly that calculation reminded me that I am going to fry at my Math test on the 13th. Dear God how
I hate unreal equations and trigonometry. I so hope for a C. That way I will get a B for this half of the year and combined with my A the first half I will have A for the year. Go me!
Of course I will fry in literature, because the same I have to write an essay as a test for my final grade and the authors suck. We have a communist poet with, about which we are forbidden to hint at communism (don’t ask, it’s complicated). Then comes an abstract poet, who writes about doors, windows, balconies, cars and wheels. Basically you read and shout “Say What???”. The third is not better as he is thought to be Bulgaria’s greatest story teller and in his short stories, absolutely nothing happens and yet my teacher manages to dip tons of symbolism lying underneath a coat for instance. I see doom looming over me. I see studying.
PS: I also have to help put the wallpapers back! Eek!