September 28, 2007 at 6:46 am · Filed under writing-general, writing-silly
I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to write here for a while. And I’ve been trying to make a post about it for the last week and a half or thereabouts. I want to write about Writer’s Block. The problem is… I seem to be blocked.
That’s some heavy irony there. I’m blocked about Writer’s Block.
Well, I’ll manage it soon.
September 4, 2007 at 9:53 pm · Filed under school, writing-general
I realize that the title of this post is misleading and probably more interesting than the post itself. This is no fault of mine, I assure you, unless I can be blamed for not providing my readers with erotica, in which case sure, it’s my fault. Whatever.
The point of this post is to attest to the fact that, though most of the time it is the spazziest place on earth, sometimes my school can be nothing short of awesome. I prove this by offering my schedule for examination: “Tuesdays, 8-9:50pm – Silk Sheets: Writing Erotica.” I kid you not.
I cannot wait. If only because I want to listen to people read their stuff aloud.
Also, quite possibly, this will facilitate some very interesting pieces of writing from me. I’m excited about that too. One hopes that this will be the start of a semester of good smutty writing.
September 2, 2007 at 4:23 am · Filed under writing and tagged: writing: and seven were deadly
I finally finished a piece I started over a year ago. Apparently I only showed it to one person (one of my best friends, who was sitting next to me when I wrote the first draft) because when I let my friend read it, he said he hadn’t seen it before, and my roommate (a girl with whom I thought I had shared all my writing with) said the same. I could have sworn that I had had let more people read what I had of it.
Anyway.
And Seven Were Deadly
Rating: R (implied sex)
Summary: An angel walks the fine line between Fallen and not.
Warning: This story contains a homosexual relationship between two men (or angels, in this case). Please do not read if this does not interest you.
September 1, 2007 at 9:24 am · Filed under Uncategorized
I had the best thought, not too long ago. As you might surmise (based on the subject of this post) the idea is: 24 hour bookstores. Think about it: if you desperately had a need for a book sometimes after normal closing hours, there would be a place you would be able to get it.
This would great for college students who procrastinate on their work and don’t buy the books they need right away, and avid readers and writers.
If this idea ever comes to fruition, I volunteer to work the night-shifts. I could absolutely be paid to work that night-shift.
August 22, 2007 at 7:31 pm · Filed under books, writing-general and tagged: author: danielle bennett, author: jaida jones, author: sarah monette, book: the mirador
Sometimes, after reading a really good book (or story) I get severely depressed. Of course I’ve thought a little about why, but I really threw that much brain power into it. Maybe I never really wanted to figure it out. But recently, during my stint in the private and personal level of hell known as Writer’s Block, it happens more often.
(Jaida might be interested to know that this has happened several times after reading something she wrote. Dani might be interested to know that it happened after things that she and Jaida have co-written. 4 out of the last 6 times I can remember this happening to me, it was after writing done by one or the both of them. Now, I’m not blaming them. I mean, the first condition for this particular type of depression setting in is that I have to really like the thing I just read.)
I just finished read Sarah Monette’s The Mirador. I truly adore this particular series of books. (As might be proven by the fact that I have taken a nickname of one of the characters as my online handle.) Upon finishing it, I realized that while I utterly adored the book, I was depressed that I had read it. Not that I had finished it, exactly, but because it was just. so. good. and–here’s the first point–I hadn’t written it, and–here’s the second point–I wasn’t possibly going to be able to write anything that good at any point in the future. So what I was really getting depressed over is the fact that the book exists.
(Some of this is my own insecurities. I realize this. I think it hits me harder when I haven’t written anything in a while and when it doesn’t look like the Writer’s Block is going to go away any time soon. Because not only am I not going to be able to write anything that good, I won’t be able to write, period.)
Taking a moment to think about this, it sounds pretty irrational to me. Or incomprehensible. But I’ve thought about this for a while now, and I think I have come to some sort of a conclusion.
Here’s what I’ve got: Jealousy. Plain and simply, really. I don’t not write because I don’t have any ideas. In fact, I have a lot of ideas filling up my brain. What I don’t have is the connection from brain to finger that would allow me to give those ideas a release. (Though, I’m not going to deny that part of the problem, a part that only sort of makes it worse, is laziness. Because writing is so hard for me right now, I don’t want to sit down and just do it. That’s where the laziness comes in.) Intellectually I know that I can write. I know that I can even–pardon the arrogance–write well.
I’m not entirely sure what the point I’m trying to make is, or if I’ve found a solution to whatever problem I was trying to find a solution to. There are less than two weeks before I go back to school. My only goal for this summer was to write, and I haven’t written a single thing. I have two weeks to fix this, if it’s even fixable.
