(no subject)
Nov. 5th, 2007 03:00 pmSwear to God, I'm going to make a FAQ of me, or something. Either that or I'm just going to stop talking on the nanowrimo community. Because everything I say is going to come out as either, "oh, 1667 words, that's not that much" or "so, yeah, I'm doing six novels this year... "and you can imagine how well that goes over. I'm honestly surprised no one has called shenanigans yet. It would probably include some basic questions that I wind up going over every single time; how do I do it, why do I do it, that kind of thing. Maybe just a couple of paragraphs on how I try to write a few thousand words every day for the bulk of the year, and once you start doing that the rest is easier. Something. I don't know.
So, I was watching The Princess Bride the other day, and I had a mini-revelation about my childhood. David Bowie in Labyrinth was the dark, intriguing movie-boyfriend who is so very bad for you and yet you still can't resist. Wesley is the sweet movie-boyfriend you bring home to your mother. Jack is the slightly spacey, possibly on drugs, yet absolutely adorable movie-boyfriend you probably shouldn't have gotten involved with but you did anyway, one summer. Amalthea is the movie-girlfriend you experimented with. I could go on, but you probably get the picture. My movie-dating history echoes my actual dating history. You know how frightening that is?
I'm tired. I don't wanna write, I want to sleep. On the plus side, I have mastered the art of clicking the microphone off before I cough or sneeze or sniffle so that it doesn't interpret my having convulsions as my saying "is" repeatedly. That just looks really weird and screws up my word count. Apparently, though, burps still don't register. Good to know.
So, I was watching The Princess Bride the other day, and I had a mini-revelation about my childhood. David Bowie in Labyrinth was the dark, intriguing movie-boyfriend who is so very bad for you and yet you still can't resist. Wesley is the sweet movie-boyfriend you bring home to your mother. Jack is the slightly spacey, possibly on drugs, yet absolutely adorable movie-boyfriend you probably shouldn't have gotten involved with but you did anyway, one summer. Amalthea is the movie-girlfriend you experimented with. I could go on, but you probably get the picture. My movie-dating history echoes my actual dating history. You know how frightening that is?
I'm tired. I don't wanna write, I want to sleep. On the plus side, I have mastered the art of clicking the microphone off before I cough or sneeze or sniffle so that it doesn't interpret my having convulsions as my saying "is" repeatedly. That just looks really weird and screws up my word count. Apparently, though, burps still don't register. Good to know.