late nights, bright lights

FEELS GOOD, MAN.

Official studies currently being conducted are indicating that the noise of the neighbours re-shingling their roof could only be louder if they were in fact re-shingling the roof of my soul.

Which, hey, is fine, it's looking a little grubby [1], but my sleep schedule has been corrupted by staying up all night when normal human people are supposed to be sleeping because I wrote a novel apparently.

Oh yeah.



So I finished with 53,642 which fell a wee bit short of my 6o,ooo goal, but still kicked the ass of what I wrote last year (36,ooo, by hand) and the year before (7oo, by suckage). I am still so beyond happy with what I did though so stfu awful writing coach of doom [2].


Unfortunately for my life, some quote-unquote friends of mine started a fanfic challenge community wherein they're only purpose for having me is to TORTURE my soul with most excellent prompts and then take whatever prompts I give them and turn them into 'evil!Sam is evil and puts his penis there (yes there!) because of his evilness!'. God forbid (apparently literally in this case) anyone have a healthy relationship. You know who you are and you know what you did. [3] So the rest of my life will be spent filling ridic prompts and giggling my ass off at doomful pinball machines, Supernatural Cardcaptors, superhero mpreg and singing FBI agents.

Career counselor appointment again today, will attempt not to lop off the man's head with a machete. Then scrapbooking with GGC and Big Bang Theory with the roommates the evening.

Wouldn't it be great/weird if I combined at least two of those activities? Scrapbooking with a machete? Career counseling from the characters from BBT? Oh the possibilities.



[1] Again, I think fandom is to blame.
[2] 'He's your writing coach' is the roommate's 'hilarious' way of justifying putting our most feral cat in my bedsheets while I'm sleeping.
[3] For the curious and for others who might hate me, here's A Little Taste of Heaven. You have been warned, of course, that it's totally NSFW and also unkind towards angels, Dean Winchester, my soul, the innocence of babies and kittens, and Sam fangirls everywhere. SO GOOD, but mean.

So I wrote a scene into my Nanowrimo story in which one of my MCs gets attacked and bitten by a very angry badger. Because I could and because Katie fed me way too much Coke.

( Cut for Language )

Apologies to those who saw this post twice :D

Okay, so my brain has been making weird fandom crossovers for the last day or so and I just suddenly realized the crossover that set it all in motion was as a result on a major reading error on my part. But of course on the amount of sleep I've had in the last few days, the mostly harmless crossovers turned into some sort of fanfiction battle royale in my head and I decided I haven't tried my hand at any amount of large fanfic in a long time. I figured it was time to try something multi-chaptered. Then I found a prompt that I immediately (promptly?) fell in love with. And thus I created the framework for a sweeping, multi-chaptered, sort of but not really AU fic which I suddenly need to write. Like, abandon badger/hula hoop/poker NaNo ideas, abandon awesome NaNo title, I'm writing fanfic this year sort of need. The idea actually sets me to giggling for 10-15 seconds at a time. I thought this was proof I'm not allowed to discuss it with other people, let alone actually write it?

Currently at my mother's for Thanksgiving weekend/a visit.

It was nice, save Moe being a colossal bitch and step-brother being present at all. We had big family dinner on Saturday, then I spent Sunday at the zoo with Hailey and then Sunday evening with Brendan and Sarah at Brendan's (yay second Thanksgiving dinner!). Monday I went to Lia's and now today I am doing pretty much nothing which is my favourite thing to do.

Everyone is giving me a hard time about almost being unemployed and I'm all 'seriously people, can we stop talking about it because it's overwhelming enough on it's own without all y'all constantly grilling me about it' but apparently it's the best topic of conversation ever! Note sarcasm here.

I am planning on doing something about my pending joblessness, honest, I just don't know what I'm planning yet. I'm planning on going on EI for the first month or two until I can decide if or what I want to go back to school for. See, me and school have a long history of really not getting along, so even if the government is going to pay for it, I'm not sure if I can go back. not to mention having to move out of North Bay and probably having to move back in with my mama (which isn't the problem, it's moving back in with the stepbrother shaped creature and/or the stepfather that would be the issue). UGH. I need advil and nap just trying to think of it for any longer than thirty seconds.

I'll tell you what I do have planned.



Oh yeah, baby, Nanowrimo. And of course, when I say planned, I mean I have picked a title and a goal.
Title: For Fun and Prophet
Goal: Sixty thousand words.

See, two thousand a day just seemed a rounder goal than one thousand six hundred and sixty seven. And let's be honest, I haven't done so hot with the fifty thousand goal. Maybe I just need a change of pace. I'm sure I'll keep you all apprised of the situation as it unfolds.



Oh yeah, I made a banner.

Now, I think, it's time for soup and Neil Gaiman.

PS, this song was on Big Bang Theory last night and now all I want out of life is a Big Bang Theory/Supernatural crossover starring Dean and Raj. Is that so wrong?

witness my obligatory 'new info pages suckk' post. because they do.

nano is going.. slowly. but i have never been more enamored with my plot. srsly, every time i sit down to write, i have five hundred more brilliant ideas and every one of them fits! it's like i can't run out of inspiration! *touch wood* so once i get a little catch up done, everything will be peachy on that front.

work had a minor spasms this week. lay offs, cut backs, shift changes.

oh also, there's a guy... two guys, actually.

the first one is charming and goofy and we talk a lot. it's fun speaking with a guy who doesn't just wanna nail me.

the second one? well. if he were to die in a fire, i wouldn't be happy exactly, but at least his drama would be gone. he hurt one of my girls. and instead of politely effing off, he stuck around, continually hurting her. possibly even without trying. but i mean, he'd have to be completely rock headed to realize he's not a prick. so either he's partially brain dead, or a complete creep.

i vote both.

i am so sickly and throat-hurty, i'm going to get some juice.

I hit twenty k! I hit twenty k!

Well, for that matter:

I hit twenty one k! I hit twenty one k!

I went to Lacey/Heather/Froshling's and we watched Card Captor Sakura and David came over, but then David left and the Froshling went to bed and then we watched Lost Boys and then Heather went to bed and then we watched MD2. And I wrote about Doctor McScrambled Eggs and I named one of my new characters Momiji, like from Fruits Basket, which Erin lent me.

And tomorrow [today] we're having another write in and hopefully I'll really be able to butter up Larkin and then yay D&D!

Took a short break from english to work on my novel a bit more.

Annnnnnd I wrote this!

The polar bear dreams about dancing fruit tarts and frantic old women trying to quilt a picture of zombie Abraham Lincoln fighting an evil, robotronic John Wilkes Booth onto a tartan bath mat. This is a recurring dream for the polar bear, and he always seems to wake up right before he can catch the particularly delicious looking kiwi strawberry tart. It is a sore point, come to think of it, and he rarely wake up feeling refreshed.

I apologize to everyone for that.

Ftw is adoration? Root word, adore... But still. There's gotta be more.

This had better be about chickens.

Curtis is a pretty funny [and creepy] guy. We had an interesting 'computer' chat last night before late rehearsal started.

Small Piece of Conversation

Curtis: [typing] Oh god, I think he's onto us!
Colleen: [typing] Oh noes, act casual.
Colleen + Curtis: *look overtly nonchalant, whistles, brush off shoulders, look pointedly away*
Curtis: [typing] That was close. He's totally clueless.
Colleen: [typing] Lolz, obviously.
Curtis: [typing] Uh oh, he's looking at us again. Quick, a distraction.
Colleen: [typing] Umm... umm... umm.... Ah!
Colleen: [typing, shows Craig] Woo, lesbians!
Curtis: [typing] OMFG, LOLZ!
Craig: [out loud] Bwa-what?!

Please note that when I say 'typing', I do not mean on AIM or MSN. I mean typing in Microsoft Word, changing the font size to forty and turning the screen so the other can read it. And because we kept giggling and typing like mad hatters, Craig kept shooting us little 'ftw?' glances. We tried to throw him off, but it made him more curious. I don't blame him. We're fucked up. GO NORTH BAY CHICKENS.

What to do if you have a Friend NaNoing in November...

1. Be ready to simply nod your head when your "How are you doing?" is answered with "Well, my characters have quit talking to me and I can't feel my fingertips and everything is a little gray but I discovered it's because my monitor needed to be cleaned off and I've run out of Cheese Its." But still ask because that is the polite thing to do.

2. Don't feel as if you need to know the characters and plot lines to give advice. Sometimes the best advice is simply "Have you tried killing someone off?" or "When was the last time you had some Cheese Its?" Feel free to say the first thing that comes into your head as long as it isn't "So, what's going on exactly?" because that is almost never helpful and results in the writer trying to come up with a concise explanation of the past 1667 words. Don't make the writer go BACK in time. Force him or her FORWARD.

3. Remind your friend to drink water. It's amazing what a hydrated writer will come up with on the way back from the sink. Be prepared to bring up this reminder often as the writer has most likely forgotten the glass of water on the counter in the kitchen.

4. Write down prompt ideas and have them ready for the inevitable "I don't know what is next!" rants. These are as simple as the color of the bowl you had cereal out of (blue bowl with white lines at the rims) or what you saw on the way home from work (black dog taking a piss on the cool tree with the red leaves) or what you felt when you got your drivers license (fear and abject loathing for the car waiting for me in the driveway).

5. Don't be afraid of silence. Feel free to say a word of greeting and see what happens next. Your friend may need a break. Or she might stab you in the ear. So do greet, but make sure your timing is appropriate.

6. Don't, under any circumstances, bring up TV shows you may watch together unless your friend does it first. TV is usually one of the first things to be silenced during November. You'll only hurt your friends head with too much information.

7. Do send music to your friend. Music is like flowers in the garden of the Muse. The more you can befriend the Muse, the better your friendship will be.

8. Send Cheese Its! Well, maybe not. If you are able to, find the junk food of choice for your friend (mine is Jolly Ranchers and tea for anyone who is interested) and keep it on hand for emergencies. Of course, don't taunt the writer with your happy eating if you are too far away to share. Cookies over the internet are funny but depressing in the wrong context.

9. Don't ever ask your friend "What time did you go to bed last night?" It's a pointless question that will only make the writer have to count backwards in time which might be too taxing. Instead, remember that sleep is what December is for.

10. Once again, be ready to nod your head and respond semi-coherently to the inevitable discussion about word counts. If possible, follow along with any counter that your friend may have up. And yes, he or she will have a counter. It's inevitable. Your friend will get maniacal about said counter and will expect you to care, too.

By larinzia. Reposted with permisson.