Sunday, November 30, 2003
I've decided to start to write another story. I'm basing it on this illustration. I stumbled upon this a while ago, and I.... I love this picture. I love it when hot guys are into one another. I'd rather them all pair up with each other than with pretty girls. and I don't think I'm alone here.
7, 8, 9, 10, 11 PM
he's bumping to the beat without a single friend
solo on the floor and they just don't stop
until he sees the stars
12, 1, 2, 3, 4 AM
and when the night's over he gonna do it again
solo on the floor and they just don't stop
'til he sees the stars
he's a lost cause
-- Scapegoat Wax, "Lost Cause"
welcome to my lovelife!!
posted by Amanda L. on 10:48 PM
Monday, November 24, 2003
I have been heavy into library research, literally everyday. My writing is temporarily stopped, it has been this way for a few weeks now, and I have hardly written at all. I wrote 5,000 words. I do plan on writing the novel still, I just don't plan on writing it for the end of November 30th...and I will still post it on here, just not for a bit.
But, it was good, it got my creative juices working!
Damn school, getting in the way!!! ARGH!
posted by Colleen on 11:24 AM
Monday, November 17, 2003
"You know Caleb," Madison said, throwing her bike messenger bag over her shoulder. "There was a time when I didn't think I could live without you. And, and every waking moment that I spent away from you was agony. But once I realized that this feeling was completely one-sided, I got over that pretty damn quick."
posted by Amanda L. on 12:51 PM
Sunday, November 16, 2003
so here I am, writing something like my 53rd page, and I'm thinking, "Tucker needs a last name!" and my train of thought went as follows:
it has to be something that starts with a C, that would sound right.
Carlson! Tucker Carlson. there we go.
wait a minute....
Tucker.... uh oh. no, that won't work.
why won't that work, you ask? this is why that won't work.
posted by Amanda L. on 5:14 PM
Monday, November 10, 2003
not to be a bitch, but:
word count: 18,122
words to go: 31,878
it's much easier if you bring a notebook to class and write while you're supposed to be taking notes. that's what engineering professors get for putting their notes in PowerPoint format. they get a bunch of fiction writers :-)
posted by Amanda L. on 12:51 PM
Thursday, November 06, 2003
a little blurb from "The Last Place You Look":
Drew took a deep breath, and grabbed Madison's coffee mug. "Yes, I love my mother. I mean, she's my mom, I have to..."
"No one said you had to love your mother," Natalie replied. "I don't love mine." Madison was thrown back by Natalie's honesty. "I was adopted by a very nice family in the suburbs that kind of ignored me, after my crack whore of a mother put me in the hospital."
"She beat you?" Madison asked, snatching her mug away from Drew.
Natalie cut her sip of tea short, and nodded. "Ahh, but that was only after she slashed open my arm, and before she pushed me down a flight of stairs," Natalie said, as she started to flashback to visions of a strung-out woman lunging at her with a kitchen knife, and throwing pots and pans and virtually anything she could get her hands on at her. "Well, she didn't...really..." Natalie started to wring her hands nervously. "Push me. I guess you could say I fell as I was running away from her, and tripped."
Drew already knew Natalie's story, so she was half-expecting Madison to ask where her father was during all of this. Instead of saying anything, Madison walked over to Natalie, and put her arms around her. "If you ever need to vent, feel free to vent to me," Madison said just loud enough for Natalie to hear. Natalie smiled, and leaned her head against Madison's.
we may or may not have a semi-unofficial gathering of people who are doing this novel writing thang at Higher Grounds this weekend. if we do, would you want to come with??
posted by Amanda L. on 2:45 PM
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
My latest writing....enjoy...I also don't plan on explaining the odd bits that I throw in here, so my apologies for the confusion, although I obviously couldn't care that much, otherwise I'd take the time to explain...rather than write long-winded explanations of why I'm not writing explanations and why I'm not really sorry...(take a breath)...my word count is now 4,500...ok, not great.
“Yes, a mission. Quite simply, you have to find what makes you happier than anything.”
Clare stopped crying and laughed, “that’s it? That’s all I have to do! But I know that already,” she pompously splurged, knowing full well what pompous meant.
“Is that so? Perhaps you can just tell me than, and we can both be on our way.”
“Sure, it’s…it’s…you know. Cookies, chocolate chip cookies from Wegmans,” she said, rather unsure of her own words. “No, you’re right, it’s not cookies,” Clare added, without me negating her first statement, “it’s definitely music. I really think that music…although, no, that’s not it either,” Clare sighed and dropped her pompous attitude with her deep breath. When she drew her next breath in, she gained a panic in return. “Oh shit! I have no clue…where do I start!?? I mean, I know when I’m happy, but when I’m most happy? I have never even thought about that!” her worried look quickly melted away into conquest, “I decline the mission.”
“You can’t Clare, but nice try. No one has ever attempted that before,” I was impressed and rather glad that she took me at face value, for I boldly lied to her. She was quite correct in saying she could turn down the mission she had just received.
“Fine than, at least tell me where to start, and what happens if I don’t figure it out, and all the standard rules that goes along with epic quests,” Clare instructed.
“Well, there I can not give you any help that would be of immediate benefit. I can only tell you that your mission will be over when it ends…”
“You’re right, that’s not helpful,” Clare interrupted.
“As I was saying,” I continued, “there is one thing you should know. You can always find help when you need it most. Just look for individuals wearing cardigans, not unlike the one I have now.”
Clare laughed, “cardigans? Why cardigans?”
“Oh, standard company uniform. Although I am quite pleased with them, they are awfully handy,” and they were to be sure. Much better than those terrible biker shorts we had to wear for decades.
“Oh, ok. Well, Mr., Mr., by the way, what is your name?”
“My name is Alfred Brimbold Huxington Ambrigdale the fourth, or Dale for short.”
Clare gasped and clapped her hands together, “amazing” she gasped.
The sun was now beginning to set, and my job was finished. “I have to leave you now Clare,” she focused her gaze on the sky, “but before I do, I must tell you my favorite part about the person you have become. You never once asked me if you were going crazy. You never doubted that I could be real, and that is truly remarkable,” Clare looked away from the sky to where I stood, and found me missing.
“Dale?” she asked just once. She needed less than ten seconds to understand that I was gone and would not return. She needed only one minute to take her first step toward finding what would make her happy.
posted by Colleen on 10:59 PM
themes of my blog:
Chantal Kreviazuk -- "Weight Of The World"
Ben Folds -- "The Luckiest"
and no, I'm not encouraging illegal downloading, but.... oh who the hell am I kidding.
posted by Amanda L. on 12:50 PM
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
The theme of my novel:
"Make someone happy" sung by Jimmy Durante
Download it, and you'll know my theme :)
posted by Colleen on 9:33 PM
It was also during this period that a ghost visited Clare nightly. Not a friendly ghost, nor was it a mean ghost. It was just there, and this, more than anything upset Clare. She had a ghost with no personality. She complained everyday to her popple and British raccoon, named Poppy and Racky. The idea of giving a name to creatures that already had a name in their own language never suited Clare. She thought it pompous, had she known what pompous meant, that any kid could name their stuffed animals. Especially when they gave them such horrible names like Cookie, and Mr. Snuggles. It was inhumane! And she would have no part of it. She never let go of the hope that her
Poppy and Racky might one day reveal their real names to her. But no matter, it is the silly ghost that Clare despised. “He just sits there!” Clare would tell Poppy, “why doesn’t he do something, like turn on my music really loud, or make my rocking chair move? At least try to scare me! And his name! It’s awful. It’s just John Johnson. Plain old John Johnson, why couldn’t I have a ghost with a name like Alfred Brimbold Huxington Ambrigdale the fourth?” But no matter how she wished and hoped, the ghost never did much of anything.
Clare lived her life as a normal odd girl up until the age of 14. This when she made her first mistake. She tried to become a normal high school girl as opposed to the odd dreamer she was becoming. The two creatures have never been able to co-habitat, much less to habitat the same mind. They were two highly different specimens, and for Clare to attempt to be both at once created a metamorphasized version of a monster! Clare at this point was quite simply mean. It was due, of course, to the inner struggle of a dreamer and of a girl who just wanted to dress in Abercrombie and Fitch and date boys two years older than her. For awhile, the beast that Clare became grew and it seemed would devour the essence of a young child looking at the stars every night and wishing to be part of them.
One night, her beast was slain by none other than the ghost of John Johnson.
Clare had given up on her ghost years ago…the day she entered high school. She had even ceased to believe that John Johnson existed. Her nightly conversations with Poppy and Racky had ended, and her true childhood friends were now stored within a closet, on the top shelf. The night that John Johnson decided to act was, as all nights involving supernatural contact have to be on principle, stormy. The tree was, obviously, scratching against her window. And naturally, the wind howled. It was the perfect night for John Johnson to strike. At this point, Clare was now 18 years old. The last four years of her life were disappointing. She had moved from friend to friend, attempting to find one that fit. But, none had. How could they? Clare did not fit herself. She was a stranger to her own being. Worse of all, she had allowed her imagination to stay captive, occasionally experimenting with ways to throw a great party, or ways to write another angst-ridden poem. Nothing that truly satisfied her innate need to explore.
It was this howly, windy, stormy night that Clare decided to write another poem. As her pen went to fill her empty white paper, a phrase appeared.
Goodbye, it has been interesting.
Clare’s window blew open and with that, John Johnson was gone.
The effect this had on Clare’s impressionable mind must not be understated. It was as if all of the cosmos had lined up perfectly on this night to wake Clare from her four-year sleep.
posted by Colleen on 8:51 PM
My novel is about an odd dreamer named Clare Kerowak. Kerowak in reference to Jack Kerouac, the writer of "On the Road", which is a story about travelling the US. Clare is my middle name, and the character does have some similarities. She lives her dreams more strongly than I do, so I suppose that she is someone I envy for her courage.
I think that I chose Kerowak for her last name because her story is (as of today) going to be a journey that she's undertaking to discover her destiny. Sounds cheesy, don't it? There are only two major characters thus far:
Clare Kerowak, 21 yr old art history major
Narrator; a mysterious benefactor of sorts who talks to Clare and who is writing the story, I don't know his name yet.
So, the story is evolving on it's own. I don't really plan on editing it, therefore a lot of crap WILL BE WRITTEN! Just a warning...I do think I would like to post some of it as well...thanks manda for the idea!
posted by Colleen on 8:43 PM
Not really much to say on the writing front, I've got about seven pages out of, oh, what they estimate to be 125+, so.... yeah, oh I'm well on my way haha. But! But I have characters:
Name: Madison Cooper
Birthplace: New York, NY
(wonder who this could be??)
Name: Caleb Hunter
Birthplace: Niagara Falls, NY
(hmm, no secrets there....)
Those are the main characters. Originally this idea was put into a story called "Romy and Caleb" for my ENG205 class, but I decided to brush it off and spruce it up a bit. Enjoy!
posted by Amanda L. on 10:21 AM