Why yes, that was indeed chatspeak right smack dabby in the middle of my title. Be afraid, be very afraid, for I am slowly sinking into the depths of simplicity.
The preceding statement is actually correct. One of the courses I'm taking is Writer's Craft and a recent assignment was to write a children's book that has to be illustrated. The writing part took me half an hour. I delved into the world of childlike fantasy through the eyes of Carolina the Crocodile as she goes on an amazing journey of friendship and acceptance. Long story short, it's stereotypical and cliche, but I needed something and it was readily available in my mind.
The unfortunate part of this entire endeavor is the fact that I can't draw at all. And by at all I mean I can't even draw a stick person. So that part is absolutely killing me. If I'm ever a children's author, I've always known that I'd be enlisting my cousin (he's an amazing artist) to illustrate them for me, so this really isn't fair. Hopefully I'll get through it. If I die during this, I want to be buried with one hell of a nice epitaph. And I want Another One Bites the Dust to play at my funeral.
Kay over and out.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
I Can Haz Rp?
I used to roleplay. I used to roleplay a lot (and yes, I do squish the two words together and I really don't care if it's incorrect or not). I figured that a way to combat boredom and get into the habit of writing and rolling with twists that I can't really control which may happen with an editor would be to give it a shot again. So off to neopets I ran.
That was a mistake. Not only has it changed, it's gone even farther downhill. The board for it was practically dead and nobody understands the meaning of the differed levels. I was looking for lit or advanced and I wound up with someone who can't spell and doesn't understand continuity. Some times you have to shuffle around a bit to make things work, but don't godmode and don't completely redo what I've done. Yes, I'm rusty so I'm not the greatest partner but I can write. My style is informal but I know what the fuck I'm doing. Needless to say, I'm bored and irked.
If somehow someone who trips over this blog sees this and is a roleplayer to get in touch with me. My info can be found at littlestroleplaying.webs.com
That was a mistake. Not only has it changed, it's gone even farther downhill. The board for it was practically dead and nobody understands the meaning of the differed levels. I was looking for lit or advanced and I wound up with someone who can't spell and doesn't understand continuity. Some times you have to shuffle around a bit to make things work, but don't godmode and don't completely redo what I've done. Yes, I'm rusty so I'm not the greatest partner but I can write. My style is informal but I know what the fuck I'm doing. Needless to say, I'm bored and irked.
If somehow someone who trips over this blog sees this and is a roleplayer to get in touch with me. My info can be found at littlestroleplaying.webs.com
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Crazy Little Thing Called Life
Please ignore the horribly misquoted lyrics that are comprising the title to this post. It was the only thing I could think of. Normally, that wouldn't be an excuse, however today I feel this is valid since I've been up since 5 in the morning (and it's Saturday!).
Why, you might be wondering? Because I had to travel to Peterborough for Trent University's open house. Which was an adventure, since google maps told us it would take a half hour longer, randomly advised a u-turn (which we didn't do) and then led us to the back of the university, not the front where we could actually enter (hurray for dead ends). We got there eventually, went to the opening thingy which included this absolutely awesome history prof which is fantastic because if all history profs are like that, then that means that I'm in for awesomeness if I go there, since I'll be studying history.
After that, my parents and I hung out waiting for a tour since their schedule was absolutely ridiculous in a stupid way. But that was okay. Then lunch. Then res tour of Lady Eaton College (Trent has a college system, so think Hogwarts' houses, it's a residence, but you're just categorized by name which is defined as a college).
So now I'm left wondering if I would like to attend Trent or Laurier. It's a conundrum. It really is. I debated for a while typing up the names to both, taping them to a wall and whipping a pokeball at random and seeing which one it hits, but I figured I couldn't afford to be putting holes in my wall. I'm not sure if I like Trent. I think that'll be where I end up, but off the top of my head, I still want to go to Laurier. The biggest problem is that I'd been dead set on being a golden hawk since in and around grade 7, and only this year around Thanksgiving did I decide to even look at Trent. Laurier is bigger population-wise, brighter, and more bustling (or it was when I saw it), but then again, that was during homecoming, so that changes things dramatically. Trent seemed dreary and institutional (ie very concrete inside the buildings, the outside is total wilderness almost, in a cultivated way, and will be beautiful when it's not a miserable day in the middle of winter). On the other hand, though, Laurier would have bigger classes, I could be caught up in the rush, and it seems snobbier, not to mention some of the residences are iffy and the scholarships suck. At Trent it's a tighter knit community, which I need, small class sizes, really awesome residences (at least at Lady Eaton, the others are really cool too, especially Gzowski since they have semi-private bathrooms, air conditioning, double beds etc but it's crazy expensive) and they are top for scholarships.
Ultimately, I'll wind up at Trent. I think. As much as I don't want to right now, I know it'll be the better option for me. It's just kinda hard. Going to university is a huge adjustment, and it's nerve-wracking, especially if you're a naturally skittish person like me who's also a year younger than all your classmates because you skipped a grade.
That being said, nothing concrete has been decided, so we'll just have to wait and see.
Why, you might be wondering? Because I had to travel to Peterborough for Trent University's open house. Which was an adventure, since google maps told us it would take a half hour longer, randomly advised a u-turn (which we didn't do) and then led us to the back of the university, not the front where we could actually enter (hurray for dead ends). We got there eventually, went to the opening thingy which included this absolutely awesome history prof which is fantastic because if all history profs are like that, then that means that I'm in for awesomeness if I go there, since I'll be studying history.
After that, my parents and I hung out waiting for a tour since their schedule was absolutely ridiculous in a stupid way. But that was okay. Then lunch. Then res tour of Lady Eaton College (Trent has a college system, so think Hogwarts' houses, it's a residence, but you're just categorized by name which is defined as a college).
So now I'm left wondering if I would like to attend Trent or Laurier. It's a conundrum. It really is. I debated for a while typing up the names to both, taping them to a wall and whipping a pokeball at random and seeing which one it hits, but I figured I couldn't afford to be putting holes in my wall. I'm not sure if I like Trent. I think that'll be where I end up, but off the top of my head, I still want to go to Laurier. The biggest problem is that I'd been dead set on being a golden hawk since in and around grade 7, and only this year around Thanksgiving did I decide to even look at Trent. Laurier is bigger population-wise, brighter, and more bustling (or it was when I saw it), but then again, that was during homecoming, so that changes things dramatically. Trent seemed dreary and institutional (ie very concrete inside the buildings, the outside is total wilderness almost, in a cultivated way, and will be beautiful when it's not a miserable day in the middle of winter). On the other hand, though, Laurier would have bigger classes, I could be caught up in the rush, and it seems snobbier, not to mention some of the residences are iffy and the scholarships suck. At Trent it's a tighter knit community, which I need, small class sizes, really awesome residences (at least at Lady Eaton, the others are really cool too, especially Gzowski since they have semi-private bathrooms, air conditioning, double beds etc but it's crazy expensive) and they are top for scholarships.
Ultimately, I'll wind up at Trent. I think. As much as I don't want to right now, I know it'll be the better option for me. It's just kinda hard. Going to university is a huge adjustment, and it's nerve-wracking, especially if you're a naturally skittish person like me who's also a year younger than all your classmates because you skipped a grade.
That being said, nothing concrete has been decided, so we'll just have to wait and see.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Snow and Music
Today is Saturday. Which was fun. Involved the visiting of friends. However, it was yesterday that I'd like to highlight. Now, wee bit of exposition. I've been playing flute for going on seven years. (And piano for two years more. Not well, mind, but I can play both.) So, given my useless experience, I've joined band. They're rather unrelated, we have some incredibly talented musicians in band, I just so happen to not be one of them. Anyways, bands (I'm in concert, just figured I should specify, in addition to a flute ensemble, but that doesn't come into play today), enter music festivals to be adjudicated in order to grow and learn since you never stop learning if you're involved with music.
Our director doesn't like the local festival, so we go to Sudbury. Which is a 3.5 hour drive or so away from our school. So off trekked the members of our band to the school to leave at 7:30, which really isn't all that early. We drove, stopped shortly to get changed and potentially grab something to snack on on our way to the school that was hosting the festival.
That in and of itself was an adventure. The school was practically all stairs. It was absolutely ginormous. Coming from a school of around 500 students that has a total of 9 hallways, in addition to three staircases to get to our very tiny second floor, we were all in awe. There were stairs everywhere, and seemingly never ending floors. While it was clearly very old, they had some absolutely amazing murals. I really rather wish my school had the drive and the finances to do something like that, but that's neither here nor there. But we got to the auditorium (which was another unheard of thing, my school has a gym that we push the weight equipment to the side of if it needs to be used, and they hate the band program because they're pretentious idiots, so we never use the stage for band, the play does, but that's different, but the band just uses the floor to avoid being harassed), played, and went to go home.
It was snowing on the way home. Actually, it was snowing when we got there, but it was bad. And we had time constraints, since everyone wanted to be back for the annual semi formal dance. Especially me, since I'm on student council and am expected to help out with it, running things. The weather didn't like that though. So we got stuck behind a plow in absolutely awful weather that just kept getting worse. It took eons to get even to Parry Sound. While we were driving, apparently there were several accidents. We saw one car on its roof at the side of the road. Then I guess other students witnessed people going into ditches and whatnot. However, what really bothered me the most, and that's still haunting me, is the accident I witness. Keep in mind, that I've never seen an accident happen before. Ever. Actually witnessing that would have been traumatizing in and of itself, if it weren't for the way it happened. I was staring out the front window of the coach bus, since I get car sick and it helps to look out the front, and all you can hear is the faint screaming of breaks. Then a car in the lane beside us apparently spins (this part I missed) and slammed head on into the guardrail. That part a saw. Our bus didn't stop. That I can kinda understand, we couldn't get over, it was mucky, and there are kids on board so we have to avoid being a liability. But we didn't even call 911. I had no idea where we were, so I couldn't do it. All I know is that someone could have been seriously hurt, but we couldn't tell because we were already gone. From what I could see no one else was stopping either. Even if we couldn't stop, we should have called and let them know. If nothing else, they could have damaged the guardrail which could hurt someone else, if not bashed their head in during their own accident. So I'm still horrified by that and not knowing if the person (or people, I just realized there could've been more than one in the car, which makes it even worse) was hurt, and not knowing if they got help in time. Because of this, though, I think I got an idea for a potential novel, but we'll see.
Anyways, so we continued to slog on. Snow turned to sleety rain. Sleety rain turned to more freezing rain. Then freezing rain turned into rain that was technically freezing but didn't seem to be as loud. We made it home. An hour later than planned, but we did it.
And that is my fabulous anecdote. It's nice to write it down, get rid of my car accident demons. I just really hope everyone involved was okay, and that everyone else who was in an accident on the road that night is fine, too.
This wasn't really about my life, but if we were to talk just about my life nothing exciting would happen. So you get my bad band story.
I'm done babbling now. Cheers.
Our director doesn't like the local festival, so we go to Sudbury. Which is a 3.5 hour drive or so away from our school. So off trekked the members of our band to the school to leave at 7:30, which really isn't all that early. We drove, stopped shortly to get changed and potentially grab something to snack on on our way to the school that was hosting the festival.
That in and of itself was an adventure. The school was practically all stairs. It was absolutely ginormous. Coming from a school of around 500 students that has a total of 9 hallways, in addition to three staircases to get to our very tiny second floor, we were all in awe. There were stairs everywhere, and seemingly never ending floors. While it was clearly very old, they had some absolutely amazing murals. I really rather wish my school had the drive and the finances to do something like that, but that's neither here nor there. But we got to the auditorium (which was another unheard of thing, my school has a gym that we push the weight equipment to the side of if it needs to be used, and they hate the band program because they're pretentious idiots, so we never use the stage for band, the play does, but that's different, but the band just uses the floor to avoid being harassed), played, and went to go home.
It was snowing on the way home. Actually, it was snowing when we got there, but it was bad. And we had time constraints, since everyone wanted to be back for the annual semi formal dance. Especially me, since I'm on student council and am expected to help out with it, running things. The weather didn't like that though. So we got stuck behind a plow in absolutely awful weather that just kept getting worse. It took eons to get even to Parry Sound. While we were driving, apparently there were several accidents. We saw one car on its roof at the side of the road. Then I guess other students witnessed people going into ditches and whatnot. However, what really bothered me the most, and that's still haunting me, is the accident I witness. Keep in mind, that I've never seen an accident happen before. Ever. Actually witnessing that would have been traumatizing in and of itself, if it weren't for the way it happened. I was staring out the front window of the coach bus, since I get car sick and it helps to look out the front, and all you can hear is the faint screaming of breaks. Then a car in the lane beside us apparently spins (this part I missed) and slammed head on into the guardrail. That part a saw. Our bus didn't stop. That I can kinda understand, we couldn't get over, it was mucky, and there are kids on board so we have to avoid being a liability. But we didn't even call 911. I had no idea where we were, so I couldn't do it. All I know is that someone could have been seriously hurt, but we couldn't tell because we were already gone. From what I could see no one else was stopping either. Even if we couldn't stop, we should have called and let them know. If nothing else, they could have damaged the guardrail which could hurt someone else, if not bashed their head in during their own accident. So I'm still horrified by that and not knowing if the person (or people, I just realized there could've been more than one in the car, which makes it even worse) was hurt, and not knowing if they got help in time. Because of this, though, I think I got an idea for a potential novel, but we'll see.
Anyways, so we continued to slog on. Snow turned to sleety rain. Sleety rain turned to more freezing rain. Then freezing rain turned into rain that was technically freezing but didn't seem to be as loud. We made it home. An hour later than planned, but we did it.
And that is my fabulous anecdote. It's nice to write it down, get rid of my car accident demons. I just really hope everyone involved was okay, and that everyone else who was in an accident on the road that night is fine, too.
This wasn't really about my life, but if we were to talk just about my life nothing exciting would happen. So you get my bad band story.
I'm done babbling now. Cheers.
Fanfic Update
So Ways of a Weasley has finally been validated! I don't know if I wrote about it before (at least not specifically), so if I didn't, it's a Harry Potter fanfiction, and now the world can read it! Except...it's been validated for 3.5 hours at the moment and I have an astonishing...1 read. That's even worse that writerscafe. It's quite deflating. I mean, I know I'm just getting back in the habit and that I don't have a banner, which is practically mandatory these days, but I still thought I'd have m ore than 1 read. Even though my summary sucks. But, oh well. It's not my favourite of fanfics, but the stories I want to tell still have issues, so it's my way of getting my foot in the door. I'll just grin and bear it for now. Or forever, depending on how I feel. Aaand, that's that. There isn't any more.
Or perhaps there is. I quite want to go watch Madeline now. But instead I think I may write YET ANOTHER blog post about things that don't involve writing. (Which is mildly blasphemous, but who doesn't love a good scandal these days.)
Or perhaps there is. I quite want to go watch Madeline now. But instead I think I may write YET ANOTHER blog post about things that don't involve writing. (Which is mildly blasphemous, but who doesn't love a good scandal these days.)
From the Keyboard of an Emerging Writer
Also known as a beginner who doesn't know what the fuck they're doing.
A wee bit of back story, first. An assignment I'd written for my writing class was handed back to me a few days ago. On my mark sheet was a comment (my teacher is totally awesome and always has something positive to say even though she's a very hard marker) that I should really look into submitting my work for publication, because that should be where I'm headed. Obviously, I took that very much to heart and spent the better part of the morning looking for literary magazines that accept submissions from everyone. There are lots. Even though half of them are no longer in operation...buuuuut, oh well. I still managed to find a ton of possibilities.
Now comes the big problem. The writing. I don't think I'll mind sending something out, or even being rejected (well, maybe a little, but something that's ginormous like a publisher for a book, I think I'd care more about being rejected for), but I haaaate the writing part. Which doesn't really make sense, even to me. But from what I've gathered, professional writers run into this problem. It's not all lollipops and gumdrops, it's legitimate hard work. And I haven't felt passionately about anything I've written in a really long time. It's kinda meh, but everyone else is okay with it, so I just run with it. So I need to write. And it hurts. For all intents and purposes, it causes me physical pain to force myself to write. I just need to get out there though. While earning even a small cash payment would be awesome, right now I just want my name in print. I need validation that I can actually do this, that there's a point to it. To prove that I have potential, even. I don't need to be famous. I don't ever need to be famous. But what I do need is to know that somewhere out there, someone is going to read my work. Hopefully they'll think it's good, but if it's not, I think I could be okay with that. I just want to get out there. I wanna give it a shot. If I succeed, that'll be amazing. If I don't, well, I gave it a shot. My ultimate plan for life has died (probably a dramatic, self-eviscerated samurai style death) but I can move past that.
So, tonight I plan to write. Up until I wrote that down, I had no plans to write. I just wanted to get away from that paragraph. But, now that I think about it, it's probably a good idea. If it's publishable, that's fantastic. As it stands, though, I just need to get in the habit of writing, and forcing myself to write even if I don't like the end product.
Here goes nothing.
A wee bit of back story, first. An assignment I'd written for my writing class was handed back to me a few days ago. On my mark sheet was a comment (my teacher is totally awesome and always has something positive to say even though she's a very hard marker) that I should really look into submitting my work for publication, because that should be where I'm headed. Obviously, I took that very much to heart and spent the better part of the morning looking for literary magazines that accept submissions from everyone. There are lots. Even though half of them are no longer in operation...buuuuut, oh well. I still managed to find a ton of possibilities.
Now comes the big problem. The writing. I don't think I'll mind sending something out, or even being rejected (well, maybe a little, but something that's ginormous like a publisher for a book, I think I'd care more about being rejected for), but I haaaate the writing part. Which doesn't really make sense, even to me. But from what I've gathered, professional writers run into this problem. It's not all lollipops and gumdrops, it's legitimate hard work. And I haven't felt passionately about anything I've written in a really long time. It's kinda meh, but everyone else is okay with it, so I just run with it. So I need to write. And it hurts. For all intents and purposes, it causes me physical pain to force myself to write. I just need to get out there though. While earning even a small cash payment would be awesome, right now I just want my name in print. I need validation that I can actually do this, that there's a point to it. To prove that I have potential, even. I don't need to be famous. I don't ever need to be famous. But what I do need is to know that somewhere out there, someone is going to read my work. Hopefully they'll think it's good, but if it's not, I think I could be okay with that. I just want to get out there. I wanna give it a shot. If I succeed, that'll be amazing. If I don't, well, I gave it a shot. My ultimate plan for life has died (probably a dramatic, self-eviscerated samurai style death) but I can move past that.
So, tonight I plan to write. Up until I wrote that down, I had no plans to write. I just wanted to get away from that paragraph. But, now that I think about it, it's probably a good idea. If it's publishable, that's fantastic. As it stands, though, I just need to get in the habit of writing, and forcing myself to write even if I don't like the end product.
Here goes nothing.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Blast to the Past
So, hey guys, guess what...I just posted my first freakin' fanfic!!! Whoot! Actually, well, it's not my first fanfic, per se, but it is the first one for my littlestnewt account. Plus, I'm not entirely embarrassed about it. Well, kinda, but not really. Not as much as I am when I look back at the other stuff I've written. I know this'll haunt me in six months, a year, however long until I bother to look and see how juvenile it is, but for now I'm happy. Now being the operative word.
I just have to wait for it to be validated now. I'd forgotten what this part was like. It had been so long since I'd posted something, and then on writerscafe you just post and it's up, that I haven't needed to have anything go through the validation process in a really long time. It's kinda a pain in the ass. But, with hpff, I'm okay with it. Since it means that when it goes through, I'll have oodles of lovely readers, since that site is far more frequently visited and the people are, as a general rule, far more likely to review. Fingers crossed.
And, yeah. That's it for now. Cheers.
I just have to wait for it to be validated now. I'd forgotten what this part was like. It had been so long since I'd posted something, and then on writerscafe you just post and it's up, that I haven't needed to have anything go through the validation process in a really long time. It's kinda a pain in the ass. But, with hpff, I'm okay with it. Since it means that when it goes through, I'll have oodles of lovely readers, since that site is far more frequently visited and the people are, as a general rule, far more likely to review. Fingers crossed.
And, yeah. That's it for now. Cheers.
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