Oh hai thar interwebz
So. Blogging. That thing that I used to do on a semi-regular basis.
I have sucked at this thing recently.
Sorry.
In my defense, I have composed a list of reasons why I have no blogged.
1.) I just moved into an apartment with no internet, and until I get internet, there is really no way to blog unless I employ the help of my minions, and my minions have all mysteriously disappeared. I hope they just went for coffee, but it's more probable that they moved to Jamaica and are now laughing at me while they sip on pina coladas.
(But the new apartment is awesome, besides the lack of internet. Thanks for asking.)
2.) I have jobs. Plural. Some of which are steady jobs that provide a paycheck; others are internships and freelancing assignments that aren't good for much now but people assure me that someday, Important People will look at my resume and hire me because of these things.
3.) I have been writing. FOR REALZ. And I've been outlining and putting things on note cards and filling out character sketches and generally making myself appear productive and intelligent.
4.) I have creative writing classes, so I've been writing on top of the writing. This is hard. This means that instead of one WIP banging around in my brain, I have one WIP + an essay + five flash fiction pieces, and they are all warring for attention inside my mind.
This is why all great authors are alcoholics, people.
And in a completely unrelated note, here's a piece from my creative writing class. Because this is a writing blog. And I have nothing better to post.
I hold onto my walls for no reason at all. They are broad, ugly gray thigns that make me claustrophobic, cut off from a view of the sea and the sky. There are battlements perched atop the walls, but I don't know why - I have no enemies to speak of, no armies that march upon my heart with sharp swords and arrows.
I am my own worst enemy. I am the one who keeps me prisoner, who strips away my freedom, who steals all my power. I am the damsel and the dragon. The slave and the tyrant.
I dream of someday calling out from my tower, "Someone rescue me!" I dream that a prince will hear my voice from a distant land; he will ride to my prison on his noble steed; and he will burn down all my walls.
But no. That will never happen.
I must light the match myself.
I have sucked at this thing recently.
Sorry.
In my defense, I have composed a list of reasons why I have no blogged.
1.) I just moved into an apartment with no internet, and until I get internet, there is really no way to blog unless I employ the help of my minions, and my minions have all mysteriously disappeared. I hope they just went for coffee, but it's more probable that they moved to Jamaica and are now laughing at me while they sip on pina coladas.
(But the new apartment is awesome, besides the lack of internet. Thanks for asking.)
2.) I have jobs. Plural. Some of which are steady jobs that provide a paycheck; others are internships and freelancing assignments that aren't good for much now but people assure me that someday, Important People will look at my resume and hire me because of these things.
3.) I have been writing. FOR REALZ. And I've been outlining and putting things on note cards and filling out character sketches and generally making myself appear productive and intelligent.
4.) I have creative writing classes, so I've been writing on top of the writing. This is hard. This means that instead of one WIP banging around in my brain, I have one WIP + an essay + five flash fiction pieces, and they are all warring for attention inside my mind.
This is why all great authors are alcoholics, people.
And in a completely unrelated note, here's a piece from my creative writing class. Because this is a writing blog. And I have nothing better to post.
I hold onto my walls for no reason at all. They are broad, ugly gray thigns that make me claustrophobic, cut off from a view of the sea and the sky. There are battlements perched atop the walls, but I don't know why - I have no enemies to speak of, no armies that march upon my heart with sharp swords and arrows.
I am my own worst enemy. I am the one who keeps me prisoner, who strips away my freedom, who steals all my power. I am the damsel and the dragon. The slave and the tyrant.
I dream of someday calling out from my tower, "Someone rescue me!" I dream that a prince will hear my voice from a distant land; he will ride to my prison on his noble steed; and he will burn down all my walls.
But no. That will never happen.
I must light the match myself.