Her chest creaks when she breathes.
Mar. 26th, 2005 09:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7My fingernails are getting pretty damn long. I should file them down, at least. My usual method is just to bite them. I might do that. They're quite long and sharp. Usually they start making me do typos and that's when I bite them, but they haven't yet. Maybe it's just that I haven't been typing all that much lately.
Yesterday my grand total of new words composed was 99. A dialogue snippet, and I got stuck. I thought, sure, maybe I'll just post that, but then I didn't, and now I'm glad, because I don't like it now.
So instead I went back to look through older stuff i'd written. For some reason I can't make myself crack open Vikings Novel yet, which is a bummer. I just can't. But the Novel Just Previous, the one with the barbarians in it, that one's really compelling me. I think I've almost gained enough distance from it now that maybe, just maybe, I could find that one a focus and perhaps think analytically enough about it to make it something... categorizable. I did start it in January 2004. It has had some time to mature. I think the characters are really solid by now. Unfortunately it still needs a lot of worldbuilding work.
What is it about my stuff that needs to be venerable before I can take it seriously? Why do I have to spend so damn long just screwing around with worlds and characters before I can make them work for me?
I dunno. And it's not really easier with fanfiction. Even if I can sometimes just launch into a new setting and characters, it's usually way more involved than it looks, and they will, will I say, pull me into something more involved than I intended and bog me down, one way or another.
Perhaps it's more that I do my best thinking early on, and create the most interesting stuff, and then get trapped in the aftermath. Maybe I am a short story writer and the novelist tendencies are the poor discipline of the muse spilling its guts all over the imagination. I dunno...
For some reason I'm dreading going to work. Cocktailing at Landmark is somehow... I don't know, it fills me with dread at the moment. I always end up running around and I dunno, something's too big and open about that space. Dave's mom will be stopping by, as well-- she's flying out to San Diego to visit Eric and Krista for Easter, and she'll be coming through both days while I'm working at Landmark. For some reason that makes me a little nervous too, I dunno why.
We're dog-sitting while she's gone. Yay for Bert! I have Monday and Tuesday off so maybe the dog and I will hang out.
I wish I could go somewhere... in two days I could go somewhere... but I don't know where I'd go. Home to visit mom and dad and Scout is a possibility, but not that strong of one. It makes me uncomfortable sometimes to go home; it's not home anymore. And my sisters aren't there. I haven't seen any of my sisters since Thanksgiving. That's a long time.
I'm lying with my face propped on pillows and my arms under them to reach the keyboard, which means no italics or anything involving angle brackets because those are too far off the home keys and I have to actually look-- which it seems I can't do from this angle. This entry is also too disorganized to get the lj-cut treatment working fully, as it'd be like eighteen short weird cuts. I don't know how to organize this entry.
I do know I'm just feeling a little odd lately. Odd. Only seven more weeks until Dave graduates, apparently. I want that to change my life but I don't know how. I do want my life to be different. But I don't know how. I feel stuck at the moment, stuck in this place and in everything, but there is no prospect that excites me. I don't know what to strive for. I hope the warmer weather gives me some ideas.
Tangentially related thought: What should I get Dave for graduation?
Yesterday my grand total of new words composed was 99. A dialogue snippet, and I got stuck. I thought, sure, maybe I'll just post that, but then I didn't, and now I'm glad, because I don't like it now.
So instead I went back to look through older stuff i'd written. For some reason I can't make myself crack open Vikings Novel yet, which is a bummer. I just can't. But the Novel Just Previous, the one with the barbarians in it, that one's really compelling me. I think I've almost gained enough distance from it now that maybe, just maybe, I could find that one a focus and perhaps think analytically enough about it to make it something... categorizable. I did start it in January 2004. It has had some time to mature. I think the characters are really solid by now. Unfortunately it still needs a lot of worldbuilding work.
What is it about my stuff that needs to be venerable before I can take it seriously? Why do I have to spend so damn long just screwing around with worlds and characters before I can make them work for me?
I dunno. And it's not really easier with fanfiction. Even if I can sometimes just launch into a new setting and characters, it's usually way more involved than it looks, and they will, will I say, pull me into something more involved than I intended and bog me down, one way or another.
Perhaps it's more that I do my best thinking early on, and create the most interesting stuff, and then get trapped in the aftermath. Maybe I am a short story writer and the novelist tendencies are the poor discipline of the muse spilling its guts all over the imagination. I dunno...
For some reason I'm dreading going to work. Cocktailing at Landmark is somehow... I don't know, it fills me with dread at the moment. I always end up running around and I dunno, something's too big and open about that space. Dave's mom will be stopping by, as well-- she's flying out to San Diego to visit Eric and Krista for Easter, and she'll be coming through both days while I'm working at Landmark. For some reason that makes me a little nervous too, I dunno why.
We're dog-sitting while she's gone. Yay for Bert! I have Monday and Tuesday off so maybe the dog and I will hang out.
I wish I could go somewhere... in two days I could go somewhere... but I don't know where I'd go. Home to visit mom and dad and Scout is a possibility, but not that strong of one. It makes me uncomfortable sometimes to go home; it's not home anymore. And my sisters aren't there. I haven't seen any of my sisters since Thanksgiving. That's a long time.
I'm lying with my face propped on pillows and my arms under them to reach the keyboard, which means no italics or anything involving angle brackets because those are too far off the home keys and I have to actually look-- which it seems I can't do from this angle. This entry is also too disorganized to get the lj-cut treatment working fully, as it'd be like eighteen short weird cuts. I don't know how to organize this entry.
I do know I'm just feeling a little odd lately. Odd. Only seven more weeks until Dave graduates, apparently. I want that to change my life but I don't know how. I do want my life to be different. But I don't know how. I feel stuck at the moment, stuck in this place and in everything, but there is no prospect that excites me. I don't know what to strive for. I hope the warmer weather gives me some ideas.
Tangentially related thought: What should I get Dave for graduation?
