More Evidence
So guess what guys? I've been busy. And I've taken several people's advice to get my ass in gear and start actually writing my mystery novels, so...
(Now, how did that font become the semi-official header font for the whole series? Eh. It's pretty and readable, which is the only thing that matters. Besides, formatting doesn't matter in a first draft so long as you do the right paragraph breaks and can find where you left off without having to re-read the whole thing. Not pictured here: witty chapter titles. Yes, I have a confession to make: witty chapter titles are often the last thing that I think of.)
So far, my J-term schedule has been
1) Pound the snot out of paper pulp for three straight hours in the morning, and then throw water everywhere in the name of art.
2) Spend two hours in the afternoon pounding the snot out of bags of dirt, then sift through them for seeds and discard any dead beetles I find.
3) Work on Switchpoint for some amount of time between fifteen minutes and an hour. Despite my own laziness, sh_marr's competitive spirit and unsubtle taunting (we're racing to the ends of our respective novels this semester: blame S. and not me for that brilliant idea,) has driven me to complete the scariest 2,000 odd words ever since we started last week: the official beginning of my entire series... and the first impression anyone will ever have of it.
4) Get distracted by the internet, watching movies and shows with the girls (I'm catching up on Supernatural one painful episode at a time, and I'm letting myself watch Sherlock, in accordance with how many chapters I get done,) going to the gym, or booting the sims and making over Riverblossom Hills. Or just doing anything that doesn't involve a) having the main cast age, b) actual shooting pictures. I'm also avoiding Myst 4 Revelations because I am stuck. And thoughts of what happens after Thesis - job hunting and the real world.
Time to go start chapter 2... and blow off class-related research about Chuck Close, considering that I had to write a three page biography of him and do a portfolio of three pieces in his style for honors art sophomore year of high school. I better damn well know who chuck close is, guys. It's his fault that I once made a 24"x36" self-portrait using nothing but my own fingerprints (and my thumbnails dipped in ink when my fingers weren't fine enough.)
This is how artists go mad, guys. Not that being a scientist has a better outlook for continued sanity...