The State of the Life (or lack thereof)

So, I'm a pretty pathetic person. (Cue the chorus of agreement.)


As you can tell, I haven't said anything here in almost seven months now — partially because I have nothing to say, but mostly because I'm just lazy. 


My sixteen-year-old, angsty, I-hate-the-world-and-puppies-and-sunshine ginger sister is starting a blog of her own. For whatever reason or another, sibling rivalry kicked in, and now I'm ashamed. Honestly, it shouldn't work like this, but whatever.


Anyway, moving on. Important things from the past seven months:


1. I didn't finish Nanowrimo 2010. Quite the opposite, I barely passed 5,000 words. (For those of you who aren't familiar with National Novel-Writing Month, the goal is to write 50,000 words in the 30 days of November each year.) I blame this on mediocre ideas with bad execution and poor motivation. I abandoned my first idea, briefly discussed here, in favor of something simpler and more lighthearted, but it barely got off the ground. Oh well.


2. I got a new bed (and accessories). This meant my room was actually cleaned thoroughly and not just kind of rearranged to make it look like something productive happened. I don't poke off the mattress any more, so yay. I also have under-bed storage, in shelves and a "dead-body space". I estimate four or five dead hookers could fit inside. 


3. I started rewriting my first major project, started in seventh grade and not touched since tenth. The original draft is painful to read and deserves to be burned in several places, but it's a (semi) good place to start. The only real reason I want to keep the thing is because of the bad guy — everything else I stole from books I thought were cool at the time. I've gotten a dozen-odd pages written of the rewrite, and I like the way these characters work, but I'm not happy with the opening. It's horrendously boring — not uninteresting, just unexciting. Progress updates later, I suppose.


4. [removed]


5. My best friend of six or so years got his mission call for the LDS church. He leaves in two days and won't be back for two years. As one last day to hang out, we got together with a group of friends and spent the day at Lagoon. There was lots of laughter and fake screaming, and fighting over who got to sit next to whose boyfriends, and some of us even went on one of the more expensive rides — the Sky Coaster. It's basically a gigantic swing. After getting attached to the cable, me and the two riding with me got winched up about 150 feet in the air and hung there until I pulled the rip cord. (The other two were terrified of having to do it.) There really is no way to describe what happened next, but there was some free-fall and more screaming, and then cheesy Superman-type poses, but it ended up being the highlight of the day. The three of us had to fight ourselves not to pay another $15 and do it again.


6. Still no job.


7. I played through Portal 2 twice in one day. And it was good.


8. The neighbors put a password on the internet. This means more time watching movies and shows on DVD and less time on Facebook.


8a. Having never seen it before, I watched all ten seasons of Friends in a month. Phoebe is my favorite. Ross is just an idiot. Rachel shouldn't have gotten off the plane. Joey is smart to put the book in the freezer. Monica is endearingly crazy. Chandler isn't straight, no matter what he says. 


8b. I'm starting Doctor Who. I'm only just starting season two, and already I want a mysterious British man to emerge from a blue box on my lawn. Too bad I'd have to fight the aforementioned sister over who'd get . . . well, there's no good way to say this, so I'll just call them "doctor rights".


9. Certain menfolk are back. Grr, and that's enough said. 


10. My oldest sister goes tanning at Hotteez. (This isn't actually important, but "You're late for your Hotteez appointment" is just too hilarious to pass ridicule.)


So basically I haven't actually done anything. At all. Oh well. 

The Nerdiness Expansion

I've made Facebook pages for two of my characters. Both of these characters are making friends with other characters made by other authors on Facebook, for the sole purpose of having a character social network.

Only 25 days, 8 hours and about 20 minutes till Nanowrimo 2010!

So far I know the name of my main character (Ariel Deanna Turner) and a basic plot point. ("Basic plot point" here means "initial idea and no clue what else to do with it".) It's modern day, possibly in an alternate Earth, and relatively realistic. ("Relatively realistic" here means "there isn't any magic or dragons".) So far she's completely alone in this story-world — I don't know anything about her family, friends, or coworkers. As far as I know she's single and has no pets. Things I DO know about her: She likes Imogen Heap and is a lactose intolerant redhead. Fortunately I have three and a half weeks to finish figuring this out.

....Yeah, that should be enough time.

Bonus points if you get the title reference.

Chris Baty's 10 Awesome RULES for NaNoWriMo

1. There are no can'ts in the world of monthlong novel writing. You can do it, and you can do it with panache. Tens of thousands of people complete monthlong novels every year, many of whom are afflicted by full-time jobs, grumpy significant others, and demanding children. No matter your schedule or level of writing expertise, you can tackle this challenge and triumph. Begin the game knowing that you will go the distance, and you're already halfway there.
2. You don't have to write a good novel. Ol' Papa [Ernest] Hemingway, not known for mincing words, said "The first draft of anything is shit," and he's right. No matter how long you give yourself to write a first draft, it's going to need work later. Everyone's first drafts do, and, happily, the revision process is its own engaging adventure. With this in mind,
3. All words are good words. This is a very different kind of writing from the one we learned in school. In the realm of the 30-day novel you must write recklessly and fearlessly, try weird things and follow questionable tangents just to see where they lead. Be quick and audacious, and view the month as an experiment in pure output, one in which you focus on building without tearing down. Apart from a few sentences here and there, you should try to delete nothing—all of it may prove useful at some point, and every preposition and modifier moves you one tick closer to meeting the 50,000-word goal.
4. Rewards, treats, and self-praise are mandatory. Professional writers get money for putting themselves through this ordeal. In lieu of wages, you are required to deluge yourself with nonstop pampering. Indulge your whims for take-out Thai, Swiss chocolates, inspirational novels, CDs, and expensive spa treatments. When you make a big push and meet your word-count goal, reward yourself with something you've always wanted but never felt you truly deserved. You're writing a novel in a month, for pete's sake. You deserve it.
5. The novel you write must be a completely new venture. Meaning you are not allowed to spend the month tacking on 50,000 words to a story you've already started. As counterintuitive as it seems, extending an old novel by 50,000 words is much more difficult than writing a new one from scratch. You just have too much invested in its outcome, and you will agonize over each sentence. That said, you're welcome to research and plan your new novel to your heart's content before starting. Character sketches, plot points, and outlines are all A-OK. Just no previously written prose.
6. Shameless acts of word padding (characters reciting The Canterbury Tales in their sleep, avoidance of contractions, protracted singing of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat", etc.) are acceptable and encouraged. Employment of such devices, however, must be declared to any fellow novelists at the time of their use.
7. You are allowed to borrow liberally from your life and the lives of those around you and still call it fiction. Professional novelists do it all the time, even if they don't always admit it. In fact, writing a heavily autobiographical novel is a great idea, especially if this is your first book. Just remember to change the names before you let your mother read it.
8. Sharing lengthy excerpts from your work in progress is forbidden until the month's close. The impulse to share your novel with those around you is going to be irresistible at times, especially when characters become more willful and plot breakthroughs come fast and furious. But sharing is rarely as satisfying as you would hope, and it often ends up dampening your enthusiasm when your audience doesn't react as you'd hoped. Wait and dazzle your loved ones when the entire draft is finished.
9. No sharing novel-writing duties. The responsibility and satisfaction of writing a 50,000-word novel is yours and yours alone.
10. Novelists are not allowed to dishes during the month, theirs or anyone else's. Cleaning of bathrooms and acts of mopping are similarly forbidden. The same goes for returning phone calls you don't want to return, and running errands for friends and family members. It's simply too risk for your hands. Sorry.

Not thinking. Not thinking. Thinking. Not thinking.

Bah. Now I'm all nostalgic. I blame the caffeine.

A year of my life condensed into thirty-odd blurbs. Thirty snapshots. It's like a really bad journal. (Wait, isn't that what a blog is anyway? Moot point.) Not even good snapshots, really. All the best parts have been the ones I can't put into words. Just hanging out with friends. Moments with my family (edit: Moments with my sisters). Even school sometimes. I grow up too fast.

So. Here's the shoutouts to the people who have changed my life in the past year. Barely any of you actually see my blog, but I'm putting it out there on the off chance you get around here sometime. Apologies in advance for the use of real names. Hope none of you are offended. I'm sure I'm going to miss some of you, but who can blame me?

The family: Sara, Lara and Holly. Love you all so much, even if I don't act like it a lot of the time.
•Sara, thanks for the toaster, it's working brilliantly.
•Lara, the towels are a lifesaver, and they made Amanda laugh the first time I took a shower because I came out covered in purple lint.
•Holly, I do miss you. More than I thought. More than I like. But this is happening and I need it to happen.

The friends: Shelby, Caitlyn, Victoria, Ariel, Amanda, Dustin, Kayelee, Rikki, Briana, Kelley. You made school bearable. After classes ended you made life fun. To the writing ones: You guys are the most incredible people I know. I'm so proud of what we've accomplished, both separately in the role-plays, and by ourselves in our own projects. We will all be published one day, and when that happens you can bet I'll brag about it. "I knew them in high school. Oooh, what now?!"
•Shelby, I will forever love your sense of humor.
•Caitlyn, thanks for being the voice of reason when we needed it — and let's face it, we needed it a lot.
•Victoria, you give fantastic hugs and the best midnight advice.
•Ariel, thanks for leaving behind a great club. You did a brilliant job at running it and gave me something to look up to.
•Amanda, we've had the ups and downs, but I've been as honest with you as I can be. Thanks for (probably) doing the same.
•Dustin, I know things haven't gone the way we expected them to, but I worry about you just as much as you do for me. I care about you and honestly pray for you — though not in the same way.
•Kayelee, you're almost there. You can make it. Thanks for helping me. I'll always think of you when I get a frozen coffee drink or go bowling, you and the Emilys. (Loves to both of you, for the party nights — Emily D for the prom and Emily G for the one with the straw hat and the crackers, not to mention To Wong Foo.)
•Rikki and Briana: we'll be the trio again sometime — Arctic Circle is calling. Thanks for laughing a lot and being ghetto in Rikki's van together. Rikki, my other soulmate, keep me posted on boys/music. Briana, shoot people in HALO and pretend they're me — it'll make you laugh when you imagine my reactions.
•Kelley, thanks for accompanying us, and listening to me whine far more than I should be allowed to.

The boys: Clark and Xandr.
•Clark, you're one of the sweetest people I know. Thank you for putting up with me. Things will work out for you.
•Xandr, things didn't work out. I'm sorry for the parts that were my fault, not to mention some of the ones that aren't, and I wish you the best in life. Thank you for what you've given me. Enjoy the book.

The teachers/random school people: Mrs. Warby, AP Music 2009- 2010, Gina/Abby, Mr. Johnson.
•Warby, I basically love you. You taught me so much more than music, and did so much more than teach. Here's hoping I taught something back.
•AP Music, I love you all. Honestly and hands down my favorite class this year. Thanks for making B3 fun.
•Gina and Abby, you run the library beautifully. I was so privileged to be able to help out.
•J (and by proxy a good portion of the drama department) thanks for the push. I still hate the tambourine, but it was a good learning experience. Also sorry for not really showing up to class those last couple weeks... Looking back, I honestly can't remember why.

The randoms:
•all the cats in their different places;
•all the baristas who make me mochas;
•Misty Lue, for the awesome store;
•Mikey for talking/listening;
•everybody at UTA, even if I haven't met you all;
•Lisa for the comics, the MP3 of the day, and the reminder that you don't have to be married to be married;
•Jennica for letting us eat macaroni instead of going to fourth period, and for talking Mockingjay/Scott Pilgrim;
•Sandy for the rides and the shake;
•Megan at the bank for being friendly;
•Bryce for letting me move in without a job and $160 in cash;
•Mikelle for being epic at the piano;
•anybody who ever returned one of my books in the same condition it was given;
•Shireen for all the song lyrics and wavelengths;
•Tanya for the artwork and camera skills;
•the neighbors for being the neighbors, and putting up with all our craziness;
•Yoko Shimomora, Thomas Newman, Mark Mothersbaugh, and Hans Zimmer, for the music;
•Lady Gaga for the music and craziness;
•Muse, Trifonic, Marina, Tegan/Sara, Meg/Dia, and Thriving Ivory for the music;
•Chris Baty for the ambitious acts of the imagination;
•Æon, for the short shorts and the boat-rocking and general online hilarity;
•anybody who ever sold me a book, ever, regardless of location or time or the book(s) involved;
•everybody at Wikipedia, Facebook and Google for making the internet fun/pointless;
•everybody at Apple for making the internet attractive (as far as the access method goes);
•Eric for the talk and the drink;
•Daive, Cory and Kerisa for the party; and
•my bed for being the best place to sleep, because it's mine and mine alone.

And now, live from the New House!

Yeah, okay. I've been here a couple weeks, and you'd think exciting things would have happened between then and now.

Exciting things that have happened between then and now:

1. I've had one date.
2. I've had one job interview.
3. TBA

Yeah, life here isn't a whole lot different than before. Food selection is limited and the internet connection is a thousand times better, but other than that life hasn't changed much. I still spend the majority of my time doing one of five major activities (reading, writing, Facebooking, talking to boys, sleeping). I still stay up till obscene hours and don't sleep in nearly as much as I'd like, though now I don't have to do it secretively.

Even the selection of boys I talk to hasn't changed much. Sure, new location, new pool, right? I guess. Unfortunately the gay community is rather polarized. You get the Gym Rats with minimal personality but carefully-sculpted bodies, the Friendly Older Men, and the teenage Flamers with matching hairdos and profiles. "im chill no girlz plz bois tlk 2 me plz plz".

Seriously.

Roommates are nice, and aside from a couple mild spats things have gone smoothly all around. We take turns buying milk and avoid eating each other's food. We watch movies or play Band Hero or Monopoly every night, so there is actual bonding. Chores get done. Life goes on.

Now if I could just get a job....

Interview with the café at Barnes & Noble tomorrow. And NaNoWriMo is only 44 days away. (Technically 43 days, 23 hours and 55-ish minutes, but we're not counting.)

Breaking the News

No, nobody's dead or dying. I'm not getting married, and I'm not eloping to Mexico.

I'm moving out.

Not a whole lot of people really read my blog — in fact a good chunk of those that do already know I'm moving out — so this shouldn't really be big news, but it feels blog-worthy, and heaven knows there's very few things in my life that feel blog-worthy. Call me pathetic, but I'll take any chance I can get.

The whole thing is kind of a leave-it-to-fate affair, to be honest. One of my friends had been meaning to move out for a while and got a loan approved and stuff. He — yes it's a he, but we're not dating, nor would we ever — said that so long as I can pay back the first month's rent, if it doesn't work out I can always move back in, hopefully wiser and stuff. A learning experience if you will. Of course, I still don't have a job, but we're going hunting and having positive thoughts so it'll all work out.

It's up in Sugarhouse, just off I-80 and right down the street from where my cousin, sister and I saw Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist when it hit dollar theaters. There's coffee shops out the butt, a Barnes & Noble (which I'm obviously applying for), Toys R Us, D.I., a yogurt place, Payless, Pier 49, and tons of other places all within walking distance of the house — yes it's a house, not an apartment.

I'm . . . excited but terrified. Also stressing far more than is really necessary. I mean, all my stuff isn't coming with me so why am I worried about packing it all? All I need are clothes, a bed (or at least a mattress for a while), my electronics, and a few books. (Not to mention the glow-in-the-dark stars Roomie and I are putting up everywhere.) Eventually I'm getting a cell phone, but for now I have to make do without.

It's not even something I've really thought about, moving out. Sure, I've wished I could get out a lot, but never something I've seriously considered. Now, though.... It just feel right, I guess. Like this is what I need in my life. Go out and fail, or win, or whatever. Personally I'm hoping for a win.

In other news, only 66 days until Nanowrimo 2010. Already I feel better prepared, cause I actually know what I'm probably going to be doing. Or at least I have ideas. Something like that. I feel good about this one. Something to look forward to.

Good Feeling Gone

So, that happy-fuzzy post-date glow died today. After like, three weeks, which was a lot longer than I expected it to last. I haven't been a solid happy for that long in . . . a long time.

The HFPDG lasted quite well, actually. It lasted through a bus accident that killed a band teacher at school; not somebody I knew personally, but I have a lot of friends in band, so it did make me sad to think of them. (Incidentally, the bus accident was the same night as the date. I found out the next morning.) It lasted through the first pomegranate of the season, now happily digesting in my stomach. (I pretty much live for pomegranate season. There's nothing like the smell of a pomegranate right after you first cut the top off and the juice oozes from a popped aril onto the cutting board.) It lasted through term finals, barely.

In fact, its death is my own fault. NaNoWriMo—National Novel-Writing Month for you newbies—is almost upon us! Objective: write 50,000 words in a month, equating 1667 2/3 words a day or 8 1/3 pages with 1-inch margins, 10-pt. Courier New double-spaced.

Naturally this is something I simply MUST do. So I started brainstorming characters and plot options earlier this week (Monday, to be precise) and decided on my character from the first role-play I participated in. That meant, however, that the whole motley crew from RPv1.0 gets dragged along for the ride. Most of them I can deal with—a former-captain/current-runner-of-the-galaxy with emotional issues, a thief as her egocentric-yet-not-self-confident lover, an apathetic mechanical wench/cyborg genius, and a family-oriented older brother with a death wish. They're all fun and games.

Then I started thinking about our antagonist, Kain. Kain is charismatic, manipulative, imposing, cunning—all the good things a bad guy is supposed to be. John, his creator, portrayed him so brilliantly, so perfectly, that Kain was impossible to hate in that twisted way we reserve for the evil forces with the best intentions at heart.

How could I match that? How can I use Kain in my story while still keeping him Kain? He seems so out of my league, beyond my abilities, that there's no way on Earth I can do him justice. I don't think I have it in me to accomplish such a perfect villain, to give him that same level of fear-striking coolness, that pure evil that John gave him.

After that first moment, of doubt, everything else I had planned kind of crashed down around my ears. I can't do this. I can't take the creations of others and use them for my own purposes. I can't control this plot—it's too complicated, too delicate, too hard, too threadbare, too long, too too. Who am I to think that I can do all this, create this world and put these people through hell? Who am I to play God to these people?

Well, I'm me. And I'm going to do this. The villain may suck, but this is a first draft. Nobody has to see it. I can print it out, mash it up, and make new paper out of it. I could eat it. I could line the litter box with it. This is my story. I'm telling it, come hell or high water.