Overblogging!
Nov. 25th, 2003 06:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_belle_laideWow, so much to blog about today! It's feast or famine, isn't it? :)
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chaotic_sins, I have to wonder why you didn't friends-lock this pisspoor pity party. Gee, if I knew that someone who thought I was the biggest whining moron on the planet was reading, this would be the one I'd want to keep to myself.
But you need the attention and the violins and the "look how sad she is" stuff, don't you? And, since I was the one you didn't want replying to your crap when you friends-locked, and since this one isn't friends-locked, I can only imagine that you want me to reply. Happy to oblige.
Why is life so painful?
Because you, more than anyone I have ever come across in my entire life, create your own problems, mostly with your ego and big mouth.
I know it's been a while since I've actually updated. but I have legible reasons.
LQ, nothing you write is legible. :/
I have endured a major downfall, and I can safely say, it's not on the lighter side of good.
As opposed to those major downfalls that are on the lighter side of good? Which, in turn, is maybe somewhere in between that, and those major downfalls which are on the darker side of good? LQ, you keep on bringing TEH FUNNY.
Sometimes I just want to sit back and cry.
Meh, what else is new? That, and your "BANGS FIST ON KEYBOARD! GRRRR! I WILL HACK U OR GET MY L33T HAXXORS FRIENDS 2 HACK U!!!!111 U 13ITH!"
To be free of this prison I've been slung into.
Someone "slung" you into prison? Was it the FBI, which you were so worried about a few weeks ago?
But, despite all my efforts, I cannot seem to break the chains.
But!! Even *here?!* Trying to break free from Tilly and her Cleavage of Doom?
Faltering to dark side life's true onslaughts
O_O WTF? "Faltering to dark side life's true onslaughts"? LQ, for the billionth time, I ask you, "WTF?"
and slowly becoming part of the statistics.
You keep talking about these statistics. Which statistics are these?
Throughout the years, I've lived in denial and veiled the truth to praise my own fantasies.
Well, at least you got one thing correct. So, what, you're not taking Link on dates with you anymore? Drinking real person urine these days, are ya?
My depression is so great,
Cue the violins!
I even begin to believe that hope has become completely lost. I've even begun to notice that only things of a dark nature seem to bring me the slightest comfort.
Oooh, sounds ominous. Would that be the whole "yiffing with the underage" thing? Because, that's pretty dark.
I've regressed so far in just a short time,
In order to regress, LQ, you would have had to progress first. And it seems that you've never gotten past the emotional and mental age of 13.
the thought of leaning on a endless path has begun to swell in my mind.
How the hell do you lean on a path? And, if something is "swelling" on your mind, you ought to see a doctor.
Faith is even dwindling slowly. Little by little.
LQ, I'm all for doing away with and getting rid of redundancy. ;)
I try each day, pull forth the attempt to bring to me the one thing which will ultimately smooth out my wrinkles
"Pull forth the attempt?" LQ, listen carefully: If you stop trying to pretty up your sentences, you will sound less like a canting ass. You don't know how to structure sentences. Try to keep it simple and you might do better. And, for smoothing out your wrinkles, try some sort of anti-aging cream. I hear they work well.
And I am not too sure if even the focal point of my ultimate rescue even understands how much I rely on him to make that life much more brighter.
Sounds healthy. :/
To just succumb to the shadows creeping into my heart and come to an understanding that the future I so desperately want to grasp, is just too far out of my reach.
There are times, LQ, when I want to smite, just smite, with the very flesh of my palm, nay, mayhap even cudgel and pelt the pate of those who set forth their woes using such verdant greenery, such florid prose, bloated with such bastardized words, with a chilled, perhaps even gelid, finned, aquatic creature of the deep deep azure sea.
(Gah. Now I feel so dirty!)
In other words, LQ, your prose is so purple and pretentious--not to mention that you're still crapping on English--that I want to slap you upside the head with a dead fish. You're not a poet, LQ; you can barely even write a plain old sentence. Trying be be poetic only makes you sound that much more ridiculous.
As young as I am, I don't want to live the rest of my life in such a pitiful existence.
That's the spirit, LQ. Keep reaching for that star. "To dreeeeam the impossible dreeeeeam!" (/Lisa S ;D )
But, if it cannot be accompanied by the very aspect of what my heart is seeking.
...Yes? And? ("The very aspect!" LMAO!)
What is there even a point to even continuing?
Awful and incorrect sentence structure aside, dude, this is what I've been telling you for years.
I want to believe and cling to the fact that I am entrusting God to guide my life, but even me, a strong believer is slowly slipping from the circle the longer and longer my happiness is denied to me.
So, what, are you saying that "you thoust have no religion" now? ^_____~
Why should anyone be subject from that what we were placed unto this Earth for?
*Takes a moment to figure out what the icy blue hell LQ is talking about here, whatwith "why should anyone be subject from that what we were..."* *Finally comes up with:* "WHY GOD, WHYYYYY?! WAH!"
(Aside from that, I can't even begin to tell you how sickening and stragely hilarious is your use of the word "unto.")
Is it really so cruel to surpass the sin
Who surpasses what sin, now? Without knowing what the hell you're talking about, it's impossible to say whether it's "cruel" or not.
Moreover, why am I wallowing in this constant pain?
Ah, to the point, finally. This one I can answer. Because you want to, LQ. You wallow because you want to.
Every move, every attempt, every struggle and reach, thrown aside like a rag doll, leaving me to lie on my knees,
How the hell do you lie on your knees? Unless you mean that you're on your knees and you're still lying. Yeah, I guess I can see that.
at the mercy of the sick twists of fate
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune? You're not Hamlet, LQ. God, so far from it.
that have unjustly graced my small existence. And as I look on at those around me, happy and free, I reside in my prison. Left to drift until I drown amidst this cruel sea of poison.
*Slaps you with another dead fish* I think I'm going to imagine doing that everytime you start with the florid, mangled prose. Dang, though. That's a lot of fish-slaps.
For now. I have no ideal where the Winds of Time are going to take me.
Maybe they'll just keep blowing your mind. *snick*
What the turning Wheel is going to foreordain my soul.
Ahh, the graet turning wheel...I'm sorry, "Wheel," going around and foreordaining souls here and there. When will it ever cease? :/
However, I will twine my claws into the melee as long as I can.
Super Smash Brothers Melee? You're going to twine your claws into it? Okayyyy... *fish-slap*
I crave; need substance.
I've always maintained that you were a person of very little of it.
And the longer I go without that fulfillment, the more and more the outlook becomes bleak. Only giving me the final impression there is nothing left to gain.
And, we end with another fish-slap.
Well, that was a fun trip.
In other news, man did we get our asses handed to us at work today. Well, it's always busy like this before a major holiday, but on top of all the boarders, we had a lot of surgeries, including this freaking huge Great Dane who did not wanna be sedated. Oh, boy. And was he ever a mean one. As he weighs even more than I do, this is not the dog you want to get pinned by. O_O
Then after he came in, this woman brought in a robin. He was in a garbage can with a towel over it, and before I could even see anything else, I saw that he was one of this year's robbies, as he still had little flecks on his breast. So I took him out and looked him over, and found that not only were both legs broken, but they'd been broken for a while, so they'd started to heal folded into themselves. In other words, he couldn't walk or hop, so he'd just sort of been rolling around, wrecking all of his wing and tail feathers. And so he couldn't fly, either. Both hock joints were all infected, and he was so encrusted with his own waste that you couldn't pull it off him without breaking his toes or ripping the skin off. There was no way he'd ever walk or fly, and he had MBD so bad that his beak was already broken. And this evil, awful woman had kept him like that for a week--in the little wastebasket, with seeds to eat. Hello, when have robins even lived on seeds? (And I know from experience that usually when people say they've kept a bird for a week, they mean more like 10-14 days, maybe more.) The receptionists (who wouldn't let me see this woman,) told me that she said she'd found it injured and tried to rehab it herself. This is what happens when people who don't know what the goddamn piss-hell they're doing try to rehab birds. >_< I ended up euthanizing him right away. Don't people know that it's illegal to keep wild songbirds for more than 24 hours? God, how I want to bash their ignorant heads in. You know, there are people who mean well, and then there are people who just want something to do or to talk about. Grrr. Please don't even get me started on that other woman with the cedar waxwing two years ago. >_<
So, yeah, work was a little hectic there today!
But, this weekend after Thanksgiving, I don't have dance class, so I guess I'll spend the weekend decorating for Christmas. Jeez, not even two months ago I was all excited about Halloween and all, and I know, as soon as I start dicking around with the lights, seeing which ones work and which don't, then putting this one up wrong and losing tacks and breaking bulbs and dropping things, I'm going to remember how much I loathe it. But for now, I can't wait. ;)
And speaking of Christmas, it looks like I've got the jump on it this year. Well, almost. I've got most of my Christmas shopping done. Wel, maybe not "most of." Some. It's a start, anyway.
You know, I just finished reading Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver. At first, I didn't think I was going to like it very much. In some ways, I didn't. I couldn't get really involved in her characters, because sometimes I felt that she was using them to preach certain points to me. She was really big on the "women are nurturing and men are destructive" stereotype, and that always annoys me. In each of her three (admittedly cleverly intertwined) scenarious, the women were trying to protect something alive and natural: from murder in the form of hunting, poison in the form of insecticide, or just plain destruction in the form of tearing down the honeysuckle. I agreed with the female characters, but it bugged me that all the ~~**!!Guardians Of Nature!!**~~ were women, and all the destructive ones were men.
On the other hand, I did really like the ending. (She did tone down the sexism stuff by the end, to the point where one of the women even realizes that sometimes invasive and destructive things do need to be controlled or cut back.) I loved how it all came together, and I was really pleased with the ending for one particular character. I won't give away which one or what happens with her, just in case anyone is reading it. Also, I liked her style. It was sort of heavy and humid (like the story itself,) but I didn't feel bludgeoned by the prose. She didn't seem to commit The Sin Of Anne Rice.
And now I'm back in comfortable, familiar territory, because I'm reading Wolves Of The Calla, Stephen King's latest Dark Tower installment. I love the DT series and I love King, so this is pretty exciting for me.
I do love Stephen King. He's maybe my favorite author ever. Sometimes he cops out on an ending, sometimes he gets really, really weird--enough so that, instead of gripping the pages in fear or suspense you're more likely to be scratching your head going, "WTF?", but then, who the hell am I to talk?--and sometimes he does an awful lot of handwaving: "Oh yeah, and this and this happened, and I guess it's important, but anyway, back to the other stuff" kinda thing. But I think he's brill. This story is the hub of a great many of his other stories, like the Dark Tower is the hub of all these different worlds. He ties it all in together. (Sometimes he goes overboard with that, and even his characters call attention to that fact: "Say, isn't this a little bit like a Dickens story with all the coincidences?" "Oh, that. Well, that's Ka.") I appreciate the magnitude of what he's doing here. This is no small feat, and this epic of his is a hell of a lot longer and broader than just the septology. The breadth of his vision is astounding, and someday I'd love to just read the entire series and all the related stories (most of his books, in fact,) in choronogical order. His world is so huge that it even includes him--for instance when the characters read advertisements for books by Stephen King. O_O His world is huge, and I am so into that.
Plus, it's Roland. Roland's hot.
Speaking of writing, where the hell are Sheik, Lillia, Sahrek and Hisoka and the rest? Where the hell are Cloud and Sephiroth and Reno? I don't even know. I stopped doing Seer2 for a while so I could try working some more on the hugeass FFVII I've had on the burner since '99, but then even the hugeass FFVII one sort of got lost in the mix again. I sit down to write and suddenly can think of a thousand other things I need to do first, such as google a random phrase or check email again, or look at pictures of Ewan McGregor. (For inspiration, you know. ;D I suppose I could troll for guest art... "I can't write another word until someone draws for meeeeeeee!" but that's just about as lame as it gets.) Hell, I've even put off writing so that I could draw something, and I don't even like drawing.
But I've been thinking an awful lot about the Hero series lately, and how I could maybe tweak an original fiction out of the fanfiction. It'd take me a while, I guess, because the series is over a thousand pages long and whatnot by now, but I could someday cut it down some and really just change it over. Well, it's something to think about. I think I've got some strong characters and a fairly neato story in there somewhere, and hell, who doesn't like a time travel story, especially involving hot guys? I mean, come on! Quantum Leap was great! ;D And I know that everyone will just squee with joy when I start pulling that random, non-science-major science fiction out of my ass!
I guess that my biggest concern is the pitfalls that come with doing either a sci-fi or fantasy novel. (And I guess that the Hero series is a little of both. I'm not trying to sound hoity toity when I say that I don't like to restrict one story to just one genre; I sound like that on accident. ;D ) The main problem with writing fantasy novels is that I don't generally like fantasy novels, with their tunic-ed characters and bigass long town names and medieval weapons and stories of newfound courage or msyterious power, and names with pointless, random apostrophes in them. (That's one of my big pet peeves, you know, the random apostrophes in names. Hello, apostrophes signify something. Unless you're trying to say something specific, take your apostrophe and shove it up your character's rectum. Besides, I hate your character. He's stupid.)
Then, you know, with SciFi, you run the risk of doing the Space Western, in which pretty much every town is the otherwordly equivalent of, well, like the webpage says, "Dodge City", and I know I'm guilty of that one. Doesn't my own silly epic story start with the Hero going into the tavern of the dusty, lawless city and being set upon by the hardcases? Duh. (Um, The Gunslinger starts out like that, too, but that's Stephen King. He's allowed. I said so.)
Anyway, it's still one of those things that's both fun and frustrating to think about. ^_^
Well, sigh. That's about all I can think of right now.
chaotic_sins, I have to wonder why you didn't friends-lock this pisspoor pity party. Gee, if I knew that someone who thought I was the biggest whining moron on the planet was reading, this would be the one I'd want to keep to myself.But you need the attention and the violins and the "look how sad she is" stuff, don't you? And, since I was the one you didn't want replying to your crap when you friends-locked, and since this one isn't friends-locked, I can only imagine that you want me to reply. Happy to oblige.
Why is life so painful?
Because you, more than anyone I have ever come across in my entire life, create your own problems, mostly with your ego and big mouth.
I know it's been a while since I've actually updated. but I have legible reasons.
LQ, nothing you write is legible. :/
I have endured a major downfall, and I can safely say, it's not on the lighter side of good.
As opposed to those major downfalls that are on the lighter side of good? Which, in turn, is maybe somewhere in between that, and those major downfalls which are on the darker side of good? LQ, you keep on bringing TEH FUNNY.
Sometimes I just want to sit back and cry.
Meh, what else is new? That, and your "BANGS FIST ON KEYBOARD! GRRRR! I WILL HACK U OR GET MY L33T HAXXORS FRIENDS 2 HACK U!!!!111 U 13ITH!"
To be free of this prison I've been slung into.
Someone "slung" you into prison? Was it the FBI, which you were so worried about a few weeks ago?
But, despite all my efforts, I cannot seem to break the chains.
But!! Even *here?!* Trying to break free from Tilly and her Cleavage of Doom?
Faltering to dark side life's true onslaughts
O_O WTF? "Faltering to dark side life's true onslaughts"? LQ, for the billionth time, I ask you, "WTF?"
and slowly becoming part of the statistics.
You keep talking about these statistics. Which statistics are these?
Throughout the years, I've lived in denial and veiled the truth to praise my own fantasies.
Well, at least you got one thing correct. So, what, you're not taking Link on dates with you anymore? Drinking real person urine these days, are ya?
My depression is so great,
Cue the violins!
I even begin to believe that hope has become completely lost. I've even begun to notice that only things of a dark nature seem to bring me the slightest comfort.
Oooh, sounds ominous. Would that be the whole "yiffing with the underage" thing? Because, that's pretty dark.
I've regressed so far in just a short time,
In order to regress, LQ, you would have had to progress first. And it seems that you've never gotten past the emotional and mental age of 13.
the thought of leaning on a endless path has begun to swell in my mind.
How the hell do you lean on a path? And, if something is "swelling" on your mind, you ought to see a doctor.
Faith is even dwindling slowly. Little by little.
LQ, I'm all for doing away with and getting rid of redundancy. ;)
I try each day, pull forth the attempt to bring to me the one thing which will ultimately smooth out my wrinkles
"Pull forth the attempt?" LQ, listen carefully: If you stop trying to pretty up your sentences, you will sound less like a canting ass. You don't know how to structure sentences. Try to keep it simple and you might do better. And, for smoothing out your wrinkles, try some sort of anti-aging cream. I hear they work well.
And I am not too sure if even the focal point of my ultimate rescue even understands how much I rely on him to make that life much more brighter.
Sounds healthy. :/
To just succumb to the shadows creeping into my heart and come to an understanding that the future I so desperately want to grasp, is just too far out of my reach.
There are times, LQ, when I want to smite, just smite, with the very flesh of my palm, nay, mayhap even cudgel and pelt the pate of those who set forth their woes using such verdant greenery, such florid prose, bloated with such bastardized words, with a chilled, perhaps even gelid, finned, aquatic creature of the deep deep azure sea.
(Gah. Now I feel so dirty!)
In other words, LQ, your prose is so purple and pretentious--not to mention that you're still crapping on English--that I want to slap you upside the head with a dead fish. You're not a poet, LQ; you can barely even write a plain old sentence. Trying be be poetic only makes you sound that much more ridiculous.
As young as I am, I don't want to live the rest of my life in such a pitiful existence.
That's the spirit, LQ. Keep reaching for that star. "To dreeeeam the impossible dreeeeeam!" (/Lisa S ;D )
But, if it cannot be accompanied by the very aspect of what my heart is seeking.
...Yes? And? ("The very aspect!" LMAO!)
What is there even a point to even continuing?
Awful and incorrect sentence structure aside, dude, this is what I've been telling you for years.
I want to believe and cling to the fact that I am entrusting God to guide my life, but even me, a strong believer is slowly slipping from the circle the longer and longer my happiness is denied to me.
So, what, are you saying that "you thoust have no religion" now? ^_____~
Why should anyone be subject from that what we were placed unto this Earth for?
*Takes a moment to figure out what the icy blue hell LQ is talking about here, whatwith "why should anyone be subject from that what we were..."* *Finally comes up with:* "WHY GOD, WHYYYYY?! WAH!"
(Aside from that, I can't even begin to tell you how sickening and stragely hilarious is your use of the word "unto.")
Is it really so cruel to surpass the sin
Who surpasses what sin, now? Without knowing what the hell you're talking about, it's impossible to say whether it's "cruel" or not.
Moreover, why am I wallowing in this constant pain?
Ah, to the point, finally. This one I can answer. Because you want to, LQ. You wallow because you want to.
Every move, every attempt, every struggle and reach, thrown aside like a rag doll, leaving me to lie on my knees,
How the hell do you lie on your knees? Unless you mean that you're on your knees and you're still lying. Yeah, I guess I can see that.
at the mercy of the sick twists of fate
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune? You're not Hamlet, LQ. God, so far from it.
that have unjustly graced my small existence. And as I look on at those around me, happy and free, I reside in my prison. Left to drift until I drown amidst this cruel sea of poison.
*Slaps you with another dead fish* I think I'm going to imagine doing that everytime you start with the florid, mangled prose. Dang, though. That's a lot of fish-slaps.
For now. I have no ideal where the Winds of Time are going to take me.
Maybe they'll just keep blowing your mind. *snick*
What the turning Wheel is going to foreordain my soul.
Ahh, the graet turning wheel...I'm sorry, "Wheel," going around and foreordaining souls here and there. When will it ever cease? :/
However, I will twine my claws into the melee as long as I can.
Super Smash Brothers Melee? You're going to twine your claws into it? Okayyyy... *fish-slap*
I crave; need substance.
I've always maintained that you were a person of very little of it.
And the longer I go without that fulfillment, the more and more the outlook becomes bleak. Only giving me the final impression there is nothing left to gain.
And, we end with another fish-slap.
Well, that was a fun trip.
In other news, man did we get our asses handed to us at work today. Well, it's always busy like this before a major holiday, but on top of all the boarders, we had a lot of surgeries, including this freaking huge Great Dane who did not wanna be sedated. Oh, boy. And was he ever a mean one. As he weighs even more than I do, this is not the dog you want to get pinned by. O_O
Then after he came in, this woman brought in a robin. He was in a garbage can with a towel over it, and before I could even see anything else, I saw that he was one of this year's robbies, as he still had little flecks on his breast. So I took him out and looked him over, and found that not only were both legs broken, but they'd been broken for a while, so they'd started to heal folded into themselves. In other words, he couldn't walk or hop, so he'd just sort of been rolling around, wrecking all of his wing and tail feathers. And so he couldn't fly, either. Both hock joints were all infected, and he was so encrusted with his own waste that you couldn't pull it off him without breaking his toes or ripping the skin off. There was no way he'd ever walk or fly, and he had MBD so bad that his beak was already broken. And this evil, awful woman had kept him like that for a week--in the little wastebasket, with seeds to eat. Hello, when have robins even lived on seeds? (And I know from experience that usually when people say they've kept a bird for a week, they mean more like 10-14 days, maybe more.) The receptionists (who wouldn't let me see this woman,) told me that she said she'd found it injured and tried to rehab it herself. This is what happens when people who don't know what the goddamn piss-hell they're doing try to rehab birds. >_< I ended up euthanizing him right away. Don't people know that it's illegal to keep wild songbirds for more than 24 hours? God, how I want to bash their ignorant heads in. You know, there are people who mean well, and then there are people who just want something to do or to talk about. Grrr. Please don't even get me started on that other woman with the cedar waxwing two years ago. >_<
So, yeah, work was a little hectic there today!
But, this weekend after Thanksgiving, I don't have dance class, so I guess I'll spend the weekend decorating for Christmas. Jeez, not even two months ago I was all excited about Halloween and all, and I know, as soon as I start dicking around with the lights, seeing which ones work and which don't, then putting this one up wrong and losing tacks and breaking bulbs and dropping things, I'm going to remember how much I loathe it. But for now, I can't wait. ;)
And speaking of Christmas, it looks like I've got the jump on it this year. Well, almost. I've got most of my Christmas shopping done. Wel, maybe not "most of." Some. It's a start, anyway.
You know, I just finished reading Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver. At first, I didn't think I was going to like it very much. In some ways, I didn't. I couldn't get really involved in her characters, because sometimes I felt that she was using them to preach certain points to me. She was really big on the "women are nurturing and men are destructive" stereotype, and that always annoys me. In each of her three (admittedly cleverly intertwined) scenarious, the women were trying to protect something alive and natural: from murder in the form of hunting, poison in the form of insecticide, or just plain destruction in the form of tearing down the honeysuckle. I agreed with the female characters, but it bugged me that all the ~~**!!Guardians Of Nature!!**~~ were women, and all the destructive ones were men.
On the other hand, I did really like the ending. (She did tone down the sexism stuff by the end, to the point where one of the women even realizes that sometimes invasive and destructive things do need to be controlled or cut back.) I loved how it all came together, and I was really pleased with the ending for one particular character. I won't give away which one or what happens with her, just in case anyone is reading it. Also, I liked her style. It was sort of heavy and humid (like the story itself,) but I didn't feel bludgeoned by the prose. She didn't seem to commit The Sin Of Anne Rice.
And now I'm back in comfortable, familiar territory, because I'm reading Wolves Of The Calla, Stephen King's latest Dark Tower installment. I love the DT series and I love King, so this is pretty exciting for me.
I do love Stephen King. He's maybe my favorite author ever. Sometimes he cops out on an ending, sometimes he gets really, really weird--enough so that, instead of gripping the pages in fear or suspense you're more likely to be scratching your head going, "WTF?", but then, who the hell am I to talk?--and sometimes he does an awful lot of handwaving: "Oh yeah, and this and this happened, and I guess it's important, but anyway, back to the other stuff" kinda thing. But I think he's brill. This story is the hub of a great many of his other stories, like the Dark Tower is the hub of all these different worlds. He ties it all in together. (Sometimes he goes overboard with that, and even his characters call attention to that fact: "Say, isn't this a little bit like a Dickens story with all the coincidences?" "Oh, that. Well, that's Ka.") I appreciate the magnitude of what he's doing here. This is no small feat, and this epic of his is a hell of a lot longer and broader than just the septology. The breadth of his vision is astounding, and someday I'd love to just read the entire series and all the related stories (most of his books, in fact,) in choronogical order. His world is so huge that it even includes him--for instance when the characters read advertisements for books by Stephen King. O_O His world is huge, and I am so into that.
Plus, it's Roland. Roland's hot.
Speaking of writing, where the hell are Sheik, Lillia, Sahrek and Hisoka and the rest? Where the hell are Cloud and Sephiroth and Reno? I don't even know. I stopped doing Seer2 for a while so I could try working some more on the hugeass FFVII I've had on the burner since '99, but then even the hugeass FFVII one sort of got lost in the mix again. I sit down to write and suddenly can think of a thousand other things I need to do first, such as google a random phrase or check email again, or look at pictures of Ewan McGregor. (For inspiration, you know. ;D I suppose I could troll for guest art... "I can't write another word until someone draws for meeeeeeee!" but that's just about as lame as it gets.) Hell, I've even put off writing so that I could draw something, and I don't even like drawing.
But I've been thinking an awful lot about the Hero series lately, and how I could maybe tweak an original fiction out of the fanfiction. It'd take me a while, I guess, because the series is over a thousand pages long and whatnot by now, but I could someday cut it down some and really just change it over. Well, it's something to think about. I think I've got some strong characters and a fairly neato story in there somewhere, and hell, who doesn't like a time travel story, especially involving hot guys? I mean, come on! Quantum Leap was great! ;D And I know that everyone will just squee with joy when I start pulling that random, non-science-major science fiction out of my ass!
I guess that my biggest concern is the pitfalls that come with doing either a sci-fi or fantasy novel. (And I guess that the Hero series is a little of both. I'm not trying to sound hoity toity when I say that I don't like to restrict one story to just one genre; I sound like that on accident. ;D ) The main problem with writing fantasy novels is that I don't generally like fantasy novels, with their tunic-ed characters and bigass long town names and medieval weapons and stories of newfound courage or msyterious power, and names with pointless, random apostrophes in them. (That's one of my big pet peeves, you know, the random apostrophes in names. Hello, apostrophes signify something. Unless you're trying to say something specific, take your apostrophe and shove it up your character's rectum. Besides, I hate your character. He's stupid.)
Then, you know, with SciFi, you run the risk of doing the Space Western, in which pretty much every town is the otherwordly equivalent of, well, like the webpage says, "Dodge City", and I know I'm guilty of that one. Doesn't my own silly epic story start with the Hero going into the tavern of the dusty, lawless city and being set upon by the hardcases? Duh. (Um, The Gunslinger starts out like that, too, but that's Stephen King. He's allowed. I said so.)
Anyway, it's still one of those things that's both fun and frustrating to think about. ^_^
Well, sigh. That's about all I can think of right now.
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......
I'd actually respond to the serious stuff, but I'm really wasted at the moment. Wow. Happy stuffed bird day, anyway!
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Date: 2003-11-25 05:46 pm (UTC)Aww! *hugs you non-ironically* Thanks! Hey, you're pretty gorgeous yourownself, mind. :)
I'd actually respond to the serious stuff, but I'm really wasted at the moment.
Serious stuff? Where? THe LQ stuff was pretty great though, wasn't it? :)
Happy stuffed bird day, anyway!
O_O I'll just be over here, eating my...red cabbage. ;D
(Though, I have to say, my wintering robins are getting pretty plump...)
KIDDING! ;)
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btw, "Prodigal Summer" isn't the best Kingsolver novel to start with. I know this because it's the one *I* started with, and I was annoyed for the same reasons you were and thought my friends who lovelovelooooved her were on crack. Her other books are much better. "The Bean Trees" and "Animal Dreams" have some great LOL moments, and they don't suffer from the good guys/bad guys complex.
P.S.
Date: 2003-11-26 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-25 07:24 pm (UTC)Hee
I'm not trying to sound hoity toity when I say that I don't like to restrict one story to just one genre; I sound like that on accident. ;D )
I call that being practical enough not to be tied down to one thing.
Go with it. Have fun. The fact that it's frustrating probably means you're on the right track.