Friday, November 29, 2013

Confessions of a Pluviophile

As many of my Internet friends know, I have a word that I really like now. I would say it's my favorite word, but it's not. It's too hipster for me. Yes, that is a thing in my mind.

But that word is pluviophile. It means, in essence, someone who loves the rain.

I would think that someone who calls themselves Rain on the Internet would fall under this. *ahem*

I've been thinking a lot about pluviophilia lately, and I had this idea. I've always wanted to a rant book on Wattpad, so I made a cover for it.

Yes indeed, Confessions of a Pluviophile.

But then I realized that I didn't need a rant book. I have a blog, for crying out loud!

From now on, you will be seeing any rants that would have been going in the Confessions of a Pluviophile book coming on here. I hope you don't mind!


Sunday, November 24, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: Finished...?

November 24, 2013

Last night, I hit the goal. 50,000 words are now completed for my story Raven Song.

50,000 words.

Done a week before it was due. Now that shows me that I've progressed from previous years, where I was working up to the last few hours. I've always made it, however. It's just that this time November will be a little bit more relaxing in the end.

It was so nice seeing me pass the finish line. It felt like it was impossible that I had managed to do it. It was like my mind simply could not believe that I had done such a thing. The story feels nowhere near finished, that much is for sure. But it's got so much already written that I suppose I should be counting my blessings.

The problem with this is that now I have to go through the process of editing and such. I've been splitting up my chunks of writing into individual snippets. Let's just say that I'm only about halfway through and I have approximately 80 snippets of writing at the moment. I have to finish making all of those snippets.

Then once I have my 200 different snippets (that might not be an exaggeration, we'll see) I'll have to put them in order and group them together. I need to form a cohesive story out of a bunch of loosely linked moments. But I've done this sort of thing before...just not with 50,000 words/

I think the first order of business is to make a plan of what I want to happen in this story. Without a base, everything will just crumble, yeah?


Friday, November 22, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: The Final Countdown

November 22, 2013

Okay, perhaps the title is a little bit ahead of where I am. But I have less than 5K words left to write. Less than a tenth of my novel. If I push myself, I will be finished soon. Very soon. I have my plans and all, but actually writing all those words is so different than talking about writing them. It seems like so little and so much at the same time.

But the thing is, I've never written a novel like this. And by "this," I mean...

25% of my novel was initially handwritten. Pieces of notebook paper were used time and time again in order to create a fair portion of my story. That would be about 12.5K words once it was all done. It still can't compare to how many notes I have for World History, though.

25% of my novel came from 750 Words. For those of you don't know, I use a writing program which has you write 750 words each and every day. I've been using that in order to create even more of my story. By pushing myself to write it all within 15 minutes, I find myself creating new plotlines and lots of words in short amounts of time.

The last 50% chunk of my novel comes from me sitting down like a proper author and typing away. This is what I have been doing for so long, and it's starting to come naturally. I try to take it 50, 100, or 250 words at a time. And by golly, it works.

We'll see how tomorrow fares.


Monday, November 18, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: The Madness Sets In

November 18, 2013

I should be finishing in a few days.

It's really weird to think that.

I will be finishing in a few days.

Especially if I get my act together and write more than what's necessary. At the current rate I'm going at, I should be done in a little under a week. If I step it up, I could have Raven Song over 50,000 words before the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special. I could spend the Day of the Doctor without having to worry about writing my story.

The thing is, it'll still be National Novel Writing Month. I've already started planning for what I'm going to do next.

Which is plan.

When it comes to most of my stories, I make at least a skeleton outline of what I want to happen during the story. Some of them are actually very specific. I had one plan that had more words than each chapter of that particular story did. I typically use them just to keep the plot on track and make sure everything works out in a fairly well paced manner.

But I don't do that for NaNoWriMo. I don't have to write in order when it comes to this, so I jump all over the place. I haven't finished the second chapter yet, it's strange. The thing is, I know the basic gist of the story. I know there's going to be a few specific events that must go in a certain sequence.

That still leaves me with thousands of words, though. That's why I'm going to plan out the novel once I've gotten over the 50K mark. If I can do that, then I can make sure that it'll be ready to be posted on Wattpad.

Yeah. That'll be fun.


Saturday, November 16, 2013

Why I Write

Oh goodness. The story of how I became a writer is a long and bumpy one, but throughout the entire plotline of my life I've found that my motivation to create stories and characters and express them through words has been the same.

I write for myself.

I know it makes me sound selfish and silly, but it's true. I write for myself. I write to improve myself and to see myself create something. I don't write for other people to read it, not in the way that most people would assume so, anyways. I mean, I've got thousands upon thousands of words that will never be seen by anyone but myself. It's not because they're bad (although some of them are, heh). It's because it's my own personal store of stories.

There are so many plots that swirl around in my head that I have written down just so I can read them and cherish them. Some of them have never even left my head, whether it be through my fingers typing away or through my mouth. I hoarde my stories like a dragon hoardes its gold, sitting atop the mounds of words like they were coins.

But the thing is, sometimes after writing for myself I feel the push to have other people read it. I'm so proud of what I've created for myself that I want other people to come and make me feel good about it. There's only so much praise you can give yourself, after all.

At the same time, I'm also my biggest critic. When I post things out on the Internet, I constantly feel a bit of doubt about it. I typically hate half the stuff I put out but love it at the same time. When someone comes along and critiques anything, anything, I take it far to seriously. I take the blame upon myself.

I keep on writing for myself despite of all of this. I enjoy it far too much to stop. It's really a shame that I feel myself falling apart over the simplest things. It's part of the reason I keep so many of my stories to myself, in fear that they'll be picked apart and I'll end up hating myself for it. If I criticize myself, it doesn't burn the same way as if someone else criticized me. I can improve myself, building upon myself.

Some will say I need to outside push in order to grow. But sometimes I'm content being bottled up with my own stories and just reading over the plots and ideas I had a long time ago. I read over my old stories all the time and fall in love with them. I see the flaws and I try to correct them. I'm still blind to some of the problems, it's true.

But the fact of the matter is, I write for myself. No matter what anyone says, I will continue writing. Sure, I might rip down my old stories from a website, delete lots of text in spite of what someone's said, decide to never be judged in a writing competition again, but I will keep writing.

I write for myself, and no one else.


Thursday, November 14, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: I'll Be A Neutron, Thank You

November 14, 2013

Today is a very neutral day for me. I'm no positive proton or negative electron. Just a neutral neutron. (And if you understand what neutron cream means, brownie points for you. Lots of 'em.) First and foremost in this is my novel, of course. It's going well, I'd have to say. I mean, I'm pretty darn far ahead of schedule, that's always a nice thing.

But at the same time, I feel like I'm doing something wrong. I don't know what it is. Sometimes it gets difficult to write an entire front-and-back page of my NaNoWriMo novel, all of this done in the few free seconds I have during class. And yet, I've done it every schoolday so far this month. Granted, that actually hasn't been that many, but still.

My main goal for this is going to be to finish before the deadline. The past few years were more or less "Okay, it's November 30th and I have things to do before midnight!" Of course, I made it both times, but it would be really fulfilling to finish it before then. The thing is, I want some sort of numerical proof that I've grown as a writer.

Well, in other news, I feel like I have so many conflicting emotions that I just end up with a whole of nothing. I suppose this is how Sherlock Holmes functions. It's pretty productive, I must say. I mean, I got stuff done. That is, after I stopped panicking due to the disappearance of my phone. There just are some things that aren't worth agonizing over. Things that aren't worth fighting over. Gifs that aren't worth making because they're too damn hard.

Maybe tomorrow I'll be a proton. Or maybe I'll be an electron.

But I may as well be a neutron again.


Sunday, November 10, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: "Struggling"

November 10, 2013

Yesterday was the day of marathon writing. Even though I completely failed to reach my goal, I still wrote quite a bit. It wasn't all that difficult, either. I mean, I wrote 6.5K words yesterday just for NaNoWriMo-that's not including the writing I did for all of my other stories. Yet I still feel disappointed in myself. I'm "struggling" without really struggling.

I suppose I should be happy about where I'm at in my writing, however. I have over 20K words at this point and still have many ideas to put together. This is no masterpiece, I'm sure of it, but it has potential. I enjoy writing it, and that's what matters.

The good news is that inspiration is coming from everywhere. Here's an example of that. It seems like all of a sudden my friends are all speaking about ravens and writing desks and their similarities. Of course, I am writing a story where the theme of ravens is a pretty important one. (You don't name a story Raven Song and then not involve any ravens.) I integrated it into my story. I made a whole new scene up. And it worked.

The thing about November is that it's like a massive month of many things. NaNoWriMo was my main focus yesterday, but there's so many other things going on that I'm a bit afraid the rest of my writing is just going to have to suffer because of it. There's the obvious things (aka Thanksgiving and schoolwork) and then there's the not-so-obvious things.

The fact of the matter is, I started an exercise program at the beginning of this month. It's a six week long thing, which means I will be recreating my body throughout the month of November. I've been getting progress even though it's only a been a bit over a week. That makes me happy.

But then there's also auditions for my musical coming up at school. Of course, I am petrified. I have no clue how this is going to go. I'm going to try my best as always...but sometimes your best just isn't enough. I've gone through that enough to realize that much at least.


Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Defining Brook: Fall

verb \ˈfȯl\
to pass suddenly and passively into a state of body or mind or a new state or condition

"I know that look. Brook, I know that look, and you are up to no good," Foreman said.
"What are you talking about?" Brook said, with that same mischievous smile on her face. "I am just planning out my outfit for when I'm going to the 20's. I'm going to be a flapper!"
"I feel like you have another reason for doing this. I can see it from your expression."
She kept on smiling. "No clue what you're talking about, Foreman."
"No, you do. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"Is it just me, or does it sound like you're flirting?" Foreman immediately turned red. "Better be careful with your words. Don't want to send out the wrong message. Well, anyways, I've got to go steal myself a headband or a hat or something. I'll be right back!" Brook ran off and grabbed the vortex manipulator, which had just been lying on the table. She put in on, plugged in a few numbers, and then vanished in a flash.
In just a few moments she was back, holding a sparkling headband and a hat in one hand and draping both a fringe covered dress and what appeared to be a suit on her arm.
"Ah, I can't wait to wear these! Foreman, this is for you!" She presented the suit and hat out to him.
"Oh, I'm coming?"
"Of course you're coming, you goof. Now go put on these glad rags and get a move on!"
She started to push him away. "Why are you talking like that?"
"Twenties speak. You might want to brush up before we go-ski."
"Yeah, maybe."
Brook smiled and shook her head and then ran off to go change into her outfit. Foreman sighed happily and went off to do the same.
Within a few minutes they were both ready. They came out and looked at one another. Brook had styled her hair to fit the time period better. She had really pulled out all the stops.
"Look at you, all dolled up! You look pos-i-tute-ly fantastic!" she said.
"Well, uh, you look pretty dapper yourself!"
Brook tilted her head at him for a moment, and then rushed off to grab her dictionary.
"Dapper. 1. A. Neat and trim in appearance. B. very spruce and stylish. But in the twenties 'dapper' means my father. Anyways...let's ankle it on out of here!" She delicately set the dictionary down and popped on the vortex manipulator. She tapped in a few codes and then had Foreman set his hand on top of it. In a flash they were gone. They reappeared in a whole different place where it was nighttime, only some street lights. Brook looked around, turning to see everything.
"Ah yes. I think we're here."
"But there's nothing here, Brook."
"Oh, but isn't there?"
She knocked on a door in an odd mix of beats and rhythms and then the door opened.
"Voila. A speakeasy." She went in smiling, Foreman following behind.
Brook blended right into the whole atmosphere, but Foreman just watched on it the background. Brook danced and drank for hours, and Foreman just stood to the side without saying a word. But he saw that Brook had suddenly decided to come towards him.
Brook was extremely drunk, and it was fully obvious to Foreman. She wobbled her way over to him, precarious on her high heels that were more like stilts.
"Oh, Foreman. You're the bee's knees. I'm so glad you're here."
"I'm glad I'm here too. Now take your shoes off."
"Telling me to take my clothes off?" she slurred. "That's awfully forward."
"No, Brook, I just don't want you to fall over and hurt yourself. Just your shoes. I want you safe." He held her shoulders to avoid her tilting over too much. She wasn't listening to him, she was just standing there.
"And how! But anyway, I just want to tell you, you're wonderful." Her words all collided into one another and her eyes were dazed.
"Thank you. Now, we need to get you out of here."
"Foreman, you're so wonderful." She laughed loudly and her head lolled back a little bit.
"Yes, thank you. We've been through this." Foreman was trying his best not to lose his patience with this impaired version of Brook.
"So...wonderful, swell. Now, cash or check?"
"What?" At least what Brook had been saying before actually made sense. Now it was just turning into nonsense.
"Cash or check?"
Foreman shook his head.
"Well, then I guess it'll have to be cash!" Before Foreman could even begin to comprehend what was going on, Brook attached her lips to his. Foreman was stunned by this, and almost forgot to close his eyes. She pulled away after a few seconds, but then went in for more. After she had finally stopped, Foreman now felt like he was in a daze as well.
"Oh, uh, we need...we need to get you home."
"Whatever you say," Brook said with a breathy giggle. She kept on laughing lightly as Foreman clutched her hand and took the vortex manipulator. He plugged in the numbers necessary for them to get back to their home. Brook's world soon blanked out, and she fell over with a smile on her face.
Brook woke up on her couch with a blanket draped around her shoulders. Her eyes were fogged over, and as soon as they cleared up her head began to pound. Foreman was taking care of this pitiful Brook stuck in a hangover.
"Ugh..." she moaned. Foreman immediately rushed over with a wet towel to put on her forehead.
"Foreman, what happened?"
"You got drunk. Really drunk."
"Oh yeah, I guess you're right."
"Now you're hungover. But don't worry, because I got you these instant relief hangover pills and-" Brook cut Foreman off by drowsily holding a finger to his lips.
"Foreman. Shush. I'm practically a Time Lord. I can get rid of it myself." She proceeded to do just that.
"Why didn't you do that last night?"
"I was really drunk, remember? Although...I don't remember all that much from that night after I got drunk." Brook scrunched up her nose at this.
That could be very bad for Foreman. She might not remember that kiss. That kiss had given him so much hope, and now it might turn out that it was just her stumbling around drunk and she completely forgotten it.
"You don't remember anything?"
"No, I don't." Brook looked up at Foreman's face. "Oh no. I did something. Something happened. Was my Mum there? Daddy?"
"What? No. I don't think so, anyways. But do you remember anything, you know, maybe?" Foreman bit his lip, hoping his prompt would help her remember.
"Oh my goodness. Was Clara there? It was Clara, wasn't it? I was making out with Clara. Oh no. This is not good."
"Clara? Who's Clara?"
"Oh, so I wasn't making out with Clara. Good. I was just worried, because of the whole Nina thing..."
"Brook, are you sure you're not still hungover?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Nina. It's a long story."
"Nothing. You remember nothing?"
Brook looked up at Foreman with concerned eyes. "Is something wrong? Is there something I'm supposed to remember? You're acting really odd."
"I...I'm sorry. It's nothing."
Foreman turned and walked away, with Brook staring at him the whole time. Obviously something had happened, but for some reason he wanted her to remember it on her own. Foreman was really upset about how she couldn't remember whatever happened. Poor Foreman. It must be so difficult living with someone like her. Oh well. Brook just went over to her library and grabbed a book, getting cozy with the blanket and the couch again.
As she always did, she soon was absorbed in her book. Hours could pass by and she would hardly even notice. It was a skill she had developed after having so many days alone with nothing but these stories full of words to keep her company. She had spent years literally reading books. Before she had gotten a vortex manipulator, a typical day would be eating, reading, and sleeping. It wasn't the best life, but she had gotten used to it. Having someone like Foreman for company was helping her change, though. It wasn't such a bad thing, in the end. But before him she had lived for the days when her parents would show up and whisk her away on some adventure. Even with a vortex manipulator she had felt lonely. But Foreman had become like her companion. She liked it. But Brook would always turn back to books in the end.
She had began to hum absentmindedly when there was a sudden noise and a flash of blue light. Foreman walked over, saying, "Brook, did you use the vortex manipulator?"
But Brook was sitting on the couch, putting a bookmark into her book so that she could set it down. There was an enormous smile on her face. Foreman followed her gaze.
"Mum!" she said.
"Brook," the woman smiled. They rushed together and hugged. Foreman just watched on. This woman was Brook's mother. Well, they certainly looked similar. They both shared that mop of curls on their heads.
"Oh my gosh, I've missed you so much!" Brook squealed. She jumped up and down a little bit.
"What book have you brought along this time?" she asked.
"Les Miserables. Bit of a downer, but it's beautiful. Now, Brook, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" River said, gesturing to Foreman.
Brook took the book from her and after looking it over a little bit she turned around to introduce Foreman to her mother. "Mum, this is Foreman. He's a Time Lord. A little twenty-first birthday gift from the Daleks. And Foreman, this is my mother, River Song. But you can call her Professor. Professor Song."
"Um, hello." Foreman raised up a hand in greeting.
River looked at her daughter curiously. "A gift from the Daleks? Time Lord?" She turned back to Foreman for a second. "It's nice to meet you." Then she faced Brook again. "Brook, what exactly did you do?"
"Time bubble. I went to Gallifrey, turned out to be the Time War..."
Foreman picked up the story from Brook. "I had just regenerated and she saved me from the Daleks, and then took me here. And named me Foreman. I kind of like it, actually."
River raised her eyebrows. There were certainly a lot of interesting things going around in Brook's home.
Brook noticed her mother's look and changed the subject a little bit.
"By any chance, were you recently at a party in the 1920's?"
"What? Why would you be asking that?"
Foreman gave Brook a look, and then answered for her. "She was. She got so drunk that she could hardly remember a thing."
Brook frowned at Foreman, but didn't say a word against it.
"Well, it's good to see that someone in this home can give you a straight answer. Thank you, Foreman, for telling me that. And no, Brook. Now, we need to go talk about something in private. Foreman, do you mind?"
Foreman shook his head and then Brook and River walked off to have their conversation.
"Is something wrong?" River said.
"It's Foreman," Brook began. "I think I might be falling for him."
"I see," River replied with a knowing smile.
"Anyways, what did you need to talk about?"
"Well, there now there a few things I need to talk to you about," River said. "This Foreman. If you have feelings for him and he cares about you at all, you need to know. One day, you might have to hide your pain for his sake. He seems like your father in that way. He won't be able to deal with it so you have to deal with it for him."
Brook stared at her mother, not wanting to think about something like that. But her mother had a point. They both looked so serious, which was odd for them.
"Now, I want you to tell Foreman about your feelings."
"What? No."
"Yes, Brook. You're going to regret it if you don't."
Brook sighed. "I guess you're right." She wasn't happy with the serious atmosphere in the room. But then River broke into a huge grin.
"Now, here's the other thing I wanted to talk about. So, how would you feel about a little heist?"
Brook's lips curled into a smile. "Oh, I would love it."
A few minutes later, the two Songs strutted into the room. Brook was using her mother's scanner to look at something. Foreman's jaw immediately dropped.
Both the women were wearing catsuits.
"Hey, Foreman," Brook said, looking up from the scanner. "Mum and I are going out to steal something. Do you want to come with us?"
"Um...uh..." Foreman could hardly speak as he was gawking. " thanks...I'd probably mess it up."
"Well, if you say so. Mum, are you ready?"
"Whenever you are."
Brook put a hat over her head, covering up her curls. When she recieved some odd looks, she said, "It gets in the way sometimes. Anyways. I'm ready!"
"Let's go."
Both women plugged the same numbers into their matching vortex manipulators and vanished in two little flashes of blue lightning. Now that they were alone, River brought something up.
"I see your little boyfriend was staring you up and down."
Brook rolled her eyes. "I'm a young woman in a skintight suit. I don't think it takes much for a man to be distracted by that."
"If you say so."
"Anyways, Mum, we have a job to do."
"Very much so."
What was only a few seconds later in Foreman's time but hours for River and Brook, the women appeared laughing their heads off. Brook was holding a dress. It looked like it was from some era of royalty, encrusted with jewels of all sorts. It must have cost a fortune at any point in time.
"What's that?" Foreman said.
"It's my dress," Brook said with a laugh.
"It's actually her dress," River said. "It was given to her a long time ago but she had to leave it behind. We just rescued it from the museum it was in."
"Now it's all mine. And I don't plan to give it back this time."
"Well, I guess it's time for me to go now, Brook."
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too."
"Bye, Mum!" Brook gave River a hug and then River disappeared soon after. River's words about Foreman never left Brook, though. They stayed with her for weeks until Brook finally decided to do something about it. She walked up to Foreman one day, sitting next to him on the couch.
"Foreman, I have something very important to ask you."
Foreman nodded in order to let her know she could continue.
"I want you to be honest. Do you have feelings for me?"
Foreman blinked a few times, planning out his response. Brook never gave up her relentless gaze.
"No, I don't."
Brook raised her eyebrows.
"Don't give me that look. Why are you-" He began to stumble on his words. Foreman started again. "Why are you asking me, anyways? Do you have feelings for me?"
Brook batted her eyelashes. "Oh, of course not. And unlike you, I can prove it." Brook tilted in to Foreman, grabbing one of his hands in one of hers and using the other to touch his face. She brought their lips together slowly, for a kiss that was tantalizingly short.
She slowly pulled away, just as she had come in, and their eyes met. Foreman was at a complete loss at to what to do. But then Brook broke out into a huge grin and moved away quickly.
"I knew it!" she said. "I knew you had feelings for me!"
"Wh-what? What are you talking about?"
"Dilated pupils, highly elevated heart rate. Yes, that's right, I took your pulse! They don't call Daddy the Doctor for nothing. And I'm a nurse, after all."
"What? I don't understand."
"Well, from what I've seen, you biologically have feelings for me."
Foreman couldn't take it anymore, not her eyes or her voice or anything. He dived over to Brook, clutching her face in both of his hands, and kissed her. And again. And again. When he finally pulled himself away from her, he was a bit surprised to see just how shocked Brook was. He was afraid that he had badly messed up everything. But then her face broke into a smile.
"I was very right, wasn't I?"
"Very," he replied breathlessly. He began to lean in for another kiss but she stopped him.
"Not so fast-ski."
"Ugh, that flapper slang really took a toll on me."
"Well, I still think you look beautiful."
"See, this is what I was trying to avoid," Brook said.
Foreman's adoring eyes creased in confusion.
"I don't want us moving too quickly, saying words we might not really mean yet. you understand?"
"Yes...I don't understand why, but I guess I understand what."
"Good. You don't have to know why." Brook turned and began to walk away.
"You're so beautiful, though." Brook stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath.
"Gorgeous." Brook took in a deep breath and resisted the urge to turn around.
"The most beautiful girl I've ever seen, anywhere, anytime." Now Brook had to turn around. She feigned a smile on her face.
"You may even be the most beautiful, gorgeous girl in all of time and space." Brook walked up close to Foreman, with that same little smile. They were awfully close, and Foreman thought she was going to kiss him.
That was not the case. She brought up her hand and slapped him hard across the cheek.
"Ow!" he cried out.
"This is why you listen to me," she said, her former smile fading away.
Foreman recovered from his small plight and grabbed Brook's face again, kissing her. She tried to resist at first, but then she melted into it. When she pulled away first, Foreman thought he might be in danger of another slap. Brook had tensed up immensely. But she just took a deep breath and walked out without a word. He might have just made a fatal mistake.
At least he got to kiss Brook, though.

A/N This might seem a bit out of nowhere for those of you who are reading this, but I have a reason for it. On Wattpad, I write Doctor Who fanfiction. I started off with a character named Brook who I ended up creating many stories many that I had to make more to share with the world. I'll be posting all of those here. They likely won't make sense without reading the other stories, here for my profile! You can read The Other Definition and The Child's Mistake to see Brook's main story. This is what defines her...hence "Defining Brook."

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: Handwritten Notes

November 5, 2013

You know when you think everything is starting to get into a groove but then you realize that it really isn't? And for once, it has nothing to do with you? Well, that's how I've felt lately. It's like NaNoWriMo and all other Internet things have to be weaved into my day rather than being there when I want to do them. I'm just so darn busy all of the time!

But at the very least, I've been able to stay caught up on my novel. I mean, I was never planning to finish the whole thing in a week, and I'm already far ahead of where I was in previous years. Granted, I did mess up significantly in previous years...but who cares?

Anyways, I spend a lot of time at school simply writing stuff down with my hands. I write in cursive, first of all, which is kind of nice because it means picking up the pencil less often and making that horrid noise. But at the same time, the pencil smears all over my hand-I'm left handed!

When I pile on an extra thing for me to do (in this case, writing a full front and back page for NaNoWriMo) I end up with a black splotch on the side of my hand. It is not pretty at all.

But at least it signifies I've achieved something. If anything makes me feel happy, it's knowing that I won't have to write 2000 words as soon as I get home on top of homework and all sorts of other things.

In terms of this story for NaNoWriMo, I've been very happy with my progress. It's been very smooth and easy to write for the most part. The best thing is, I have ideas. I have ideas to cause my characters pain. I have ideas to make them happy. I have ideas to add in new characters and weave in new plots. That's what gets me through the words each day.


Saturday, November 2, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: Wait, I'm Confused

November 2, 2013

I feel like the first day of NaNoWriMo is not as good of an indicator of how well the rest of it is going to be. Rather, the second day is more like that. There's technicalities and everything, but whatever. The first day is hyped up. You have ideas and could probably sit down and write forever if you had the time to. Everything just comes spilling out.

The second day...not so much. You're still running fairly high, but reality is starting to catch up to you.

Does this mean you flop on the ground like a fish?


Actually, I was doing very well today. I was able to finish 1800 words from scratch before 9:30 AM. Of course, I haven't written much of anything since...but that was due to having an extraordinary amount of work to do on top of starting up a new exercise program.

The only real problem I'm having with NaNoWriMo right now is I'm getting all these great ideas...for other stories. I guess they'll just have to be filed away and wait for some other time.

I'm trying to get together a writing playlist and ultimately failing. Instead I just listen to Kid Icarus Uprising along with some Mad World Radio on Pandora. Needless to say, the latter one fits my story better.

(I know I never explained this, but my story is a realistic fiction one inspired by The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. It's a kind of dreary story with a lot more emotion than action. I think I like that quite a bit. It's like if Tim Burton made a movie out of a John Green book...except it was a book and...yeah, I'm confused too.)


Friday, November 1, 2013

The NaNo Diaries: Triple Threat

November 1, 2013

When most people think of triple threats, they think of someone who can sing, act, and dance. I suppose I'm a triple threat. Of course, that's also what comes to mind when I bring up the phrase. But today I feel like it has a slightly different meaning for me.

You see, this is why...

  • October 30: My birthday
  • October 31: Halloween
  • November 1: NaNoWriMo begins
These three days which I all consider major are right in a row! It's a triple threat!

Of course, my birthday and Halloween don't require massive amounts of writing...but whatever. I've actually been impressed with how well I've been doing on NaNoWriMo just on the first day. I was able to write an entire page front and back before I left my first period.

I did my work first, don't worry.

I feel like I've somehow managed to spread the word of NaNoWriMo like a disease. Just a month ago, hardly anyone had heard of NaNoWriMo, let alone thought of doing it. Now pretty much all of my writing buddies are going ahead to take the challenge. There are perks to being the most experienced, though. With two winning years along with a Camp NaNoWriMo victory under my belt, I think I'm in for a good novel.

Well...more on that some other time.


And So It Begins...

Hello there. My name is Rain. Not really, of course, but you know the drill. After seeing some of my friends getting blogs and using them for writing and such, I decided I should go along and do the same. In essence, this will be the place where I talk about my stories and sometimes my life...all sorts of things.

I hope you enjoy!