Writing-Related!
Somehow I'm actually staying mostly on-track for NaNoWriMo! *dances*
I was over 1000 words ahead the first couple of days, but I got really hurt by my damned Wednesday Brit Lit class, which finishes at 9:15. Plus, since I went to visit Evan after I only got home at 10:30, then I couldn't even get to writing immediately, so that really hurt me. But now at least I am where I should be in my word-count, which is totally amazing. I'm not sure if I'm exactly where I want to be in the story; I have seven characters I'm trying to introduce all at once, and so far it's going meh. (The fact that their personalities aren't completely defined in my mind doesn't help, either.) I think it's all right, all things considered, and number eight shouldn't show up for another thousand or so words, which should be about right, I think (considering that's when things will get interesting and dramatic, anyway).
If anyone else is participating, my NaNo page is here. Nobody I know aside from purple_drake and Knightblazer (all: who's that? o.o) seem to be writing this year, which is dissapointing. Was anyone else thinking of participating, but couldn't in the end?
In other news, why did nobody introduce me to Leonard Cohen sooner? We just watched the documentary Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Leonard Cohen in my Canadian Jewish Writing class, and I was just enthralled. Very, very interesting man, and his poetry really is to die for.
I am, however, reading his second novel, Beautiful Loses, an experimental piece that I am not really enjoying. Strange as it sounds, something about his style is just...I can't even explain it, it's seeping into my brain and I need to get it out. Kinda scared me when I started writing, or rather vomiting this insane style. I really need to get it out of my system, and I'm only a hundred pages in. Don't get me wrong, though; a lot of it's really good, and I've found some lines I realled liked, but it's just painful figuring out what the story is, finding the important parts and just wading through what feels like nonsense. I think I see that the warts being cut off the narrator's hand in a flashback scene as a child is representative of the treatment of the Canadian First Nations people, but the scene of the narrator and his friend (known only as "F.") both masturbating in a car going 95 on their way to Ottawa? What significance am I supposed to see when F. and the narrator's wife stick their fingers in each others ears in the Telephone Dance, similar to Catherine Tekakwitha, the seventeenth-century Mohawk saint the three are so obsessed and fascinated by also did? It's fascinating, but at the same time I just want to make it go away.
Oh, and I still haven't been able to bear to read the endings of The Time-Traveler's Wife and Harry Potter 7, both of which were my main summer books. The latter I simply can't complete because I just...gah, I don't want the thing to end yet even though I already know the damned ending. And with the former...god, the book's just gotten so terrible and sad, and I knew I was reaching a point of no return during the parking lot incident, and now it's just worse and worse and I can't bear to hit the end. Ugh.
Oh, and Tom got the Maximum Ride graphic novel, which made me LMFAO. I read that series at the same time as my cousin five years my junior a couple years ago. I actually picked it up because it sounded like a terrible Team Rocket-and-Pokémorph story turned novel, with kids with wings which already screams "READ ME." Of course some characters were kinda Sue-ish and some of the wing mechanics made no fucking sense, but the writing was pretty good. And now Tom's gonna let me have a look at it in comic form when he's done reading (since he got a huuuge number of graphic novels, because this is what a non-literary person working at Chapters buys with their discount).
Speaking of iambic pantameter, we're skimming over some poetry mechanics in my Creative Process class. Apparently university students struggle to tell which syllable in stressed in everyday words, too. *headdesk* University students. That one girl might have been stoned, though...
But for some reason I have found I can set my brain so I speak in rhyming imabic quadrameter! Weird freaking stuff, but I can just pump it out on the spot, taking a maximum of ten seconds, as long as I know where I'm going with it. I did it accidentally while walking home one day, then in class when my teacher told us to take the last 20 minutes to write two lines of it. I wrote mine in about two minutes, then spent the rest of the time muttering in this rhyming form. Then I went and chilled with Ben before my Beatles class, and thankfully I was out of the mindframe while walking from one building to another to meet him. @.@
Also amusing is that my Brit Lit teacher had been telling us the week before that he had a friend who could speak in iambic panatmeter at will. My talent is hardly that developed, though. :P
In other news Dan please get the RPG Winter Ball/Office Party up already Halloween was a wee ago and I really want to RP as Madame Psychria of Psychicness of Human Resources/Secretary/Advertising/Professional Arse-Kicker/Professional Michael Scott Adorer already. (He doesn't actually read this blog. :P)
Speaking of which, did anyone catch The Office last night? It was wow. "I think Michael's gonna win WHY CAN'T YOU EVER TAKE MY SIDE FOR ONCE?" And why is it when my taste improves from Grey's Anatomy to The Office/30 Rock, the person who introduced me to The Office in the first place degenerates into watching Grey's (in the same time slot)?
Also still annoyed with myself that I can't watch Glee because oh em gee I'm in class when it's on *stabstabstab* I've seen the first two episodes, and I love it but just ARGH.
I'm done now. :P
~Psychic
I was over 1000 words ahead the first couple of days, but I got really hurt by my damned Wednesday Brit Lit class, which finishes at 9:15. Plus, since I went to visit Evan after I only got home at 10:30, then I couldn't even get to writing immediately, so that really hurt me. But now at least I am where I should be in my word-count, which is totally amazing. I'm not sure if I'm exactly where I want to be in the story; I have seven characters I'm trying to introduce all at once, and so far it's going meh. (The fact that their personalities aren't completely defined in my mind doesn't help, either.) I think it's all right, all things considered, and number eight shouldn't show up for another thousand or so words, which should be about right, I think (considering that's when things will get interesting and dramatic, anyway).
If anyone else is participating, my NaNo page is here. Nobody I know aside from purple_drake and Knightblazer (all: who's that? o.o) seem to be writing this year, which is dissapointing. Was anyone else thinking of participating, but couldn't in the end?
In other news, why did nobody introduce me to Leonard Cohen sooner? We just watched the documentary Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Leonard Cohen in my Canadian Jewish Writing class, and I was just enthralled. Very, very interesting man, and his poetry really is to die for.
I am, however, reading his second novel, Beautiful Loses, an experimental piece that I am not really enjoying. Strange as it sounds, something about his style is just...I can't even explain it, it's seeping into my brain and I need to get it out. Kinda scared me when I started writing, or rather vomiting this insane style. I really need to get it out of my system, and I'm only a hundred pages in. Don't get me wrong, though; a lot of it's really good, and I've found some lines I realled liked, but it's just painful figuring out what the story is, finding the important parts and just wading through what feels like nonsense. I think I see that the warts being cut off the narrator's hand in a flashback scene as a child is representative of the treatment of the Canadian First Nations people, but the scene of the narrator and his friend (known only as "F.") both masturbating in a car going 95 on their way to Ottawa? What significance am I supposed to see when F. and the narrator's wife stick their fingers in each others ears in the Telephone Dance, similar to Catherine Tekakwitha, the seventeenth-century Mohawk saint the three are so obsessed and fascinated by also did? It's fascinating, but at the same time I just want to make it go away.
Oh, and I still haven't been able to bear to read the endings of The Time-Traveler's Wife and Harry Potter 7, both of which were my main summer books. The latter I simply can't complete because I just...gah, I don't want the thing to end yet even though I already know the damned ending. And with the former...god, the book's just gotten so terrible and sad, and I knew I was reaching a point of no return during the parking lot incident, and now it's just worse and worse and I can't bear to hit the end. Ugh.
Oh, and Tom got the Maximum Ride graphic novel, which made me LMFAO. I read that series at the same time as my cousin five years my junior a couple years ago. I actually picked it up because it sounded like a terrible Team Rocket-and-Pokémorph story turned novel, with kids with wings which already screams "READ ME." Of course some characters were kinda Sue-ish and some of the wing mechanics made no fucking sense, but the writing was pretty good. And now Tom's gonna let me have a look at it in comic form when he's done reading (since he got a huuuge number of graphic novels, because this is what a non-literary person working at Chapters buys with their discount).
Speaking of iambic pantameter, we're skimming over some poetry mechanics in my Creative Process class. Apparently university students struggle to tell which syllable in stressed in everyday words, too. *headdesk* University students. That one girl might have been stoned, though...
But for some reason I have found I can set my brain so I speak in rhyming imabic quadrameter! Weird freaking stuff, but I can just pump it out on the spot, taking a maximum of ten seconds, as long as I know where I'm going with it. I did it accidentally while walking home one day, then in class when my teacher told us to take the last 20 minutes to write two lines of it. I wrote mine in about two minutes, then spent the rest of the time muttering in this rhyming form. Then I went and chilled with Ben before my Beatles class, and thankfully I was out of the mindframe while walking from one building to another to meet him. @.@
Also amusing is that my Brit Lit teacher had been telling us the week before that he had a friend who could speak in iambic panatmeter at will. My talent is hardly that developed, though. :P
In other news Dan please get the RPG Winter Ball/Office Party up already Halloween was a wee ago and I really want to RP as Madame Psychria of Psychicness of Human Resources/Secretary/Advertising/Professional Arse-Kicker/Professional Michael Scott Adorer already. (He doesn't actually read this blog. :P)
Speaking of which, did anyone catch The Office last night? It was wow. "I think Michael's gonna win WHY CAN'T YOU EVER TAKE MY SIDE FOR ONCE?" And why is it when my taste improves from Grey's Anatomy to The Office/30 Rock, the person who introduced me to The Office in the first place degenerates into watching Grey's (in the same time slot)?
Also still annoyed with myself that I can't watch Glee because oh em gee I'm in class when it's on *stabstabstab* I've seen the first two episodes, and I love it but just ARGH.
I'm done now. :P
~Psychic