mmm bop

Nov. 19th, 2010 07:55 am
seldomifever: (bg cage)
Sleep, you elusive bastard, why do you only come just as I need to race the children up to school? Hm? No answer? I'm not surprised. (We haven't been on speaking terms for years.)

What the heck am I doing today? Oh, yeah. Blowing off Special Person's Day at the elementary school. I am riddled, all twisty with emotions that are unpleasant. Lord, I could use a lobotomy.

Someone started following me on tumblr and now I feel all sorts of pressure to take my account there seriously. I use it like I use Twitter - it's a news feed, with pictures. :D It's all so fresh and hopping over there, makes LJ look like a retirement community. And makes me sort of sorry that I can't figure out how to do anything there besides repost or like. Mostly, I've been content to lurk, but now? If I had an ounce of energy, I might take the time to figure out what's the what.

All of my free-time brainy activity has been geared towards solving major stumbling blocks in my stories. Not the language ones - not the ones that are a result of my general linguistic ineptitude - but actually story arc issues. Keep asking myself, what's really motivating these characters? What's really motivating me, besides a general need to see Buffy and Giles together, I mean. Would probably help if I wasn't too doggone tired to concentrate. Maybe I need to start taking Adderall. Ooh. That'll do me.
seldomifever: (facepalm)
Repairman came. Nothing is fixed. He ordered parts, charged me $200, then said he'd be back sometime after the part is delivered. How long can I live without a dryer? Hmm. Think I'll view this as an experiment.

Kids are troubling me these days. I won't bore you with the details, although they make me want to weep and scream and quit my day job, but I am holding it together. For their sake.

Writing hates me. I am going to take a tip from the Philip Pullman's Dark Materials Advice Column and try to get through three pages a day, just as the master heself doos. What the hell. Nothing else works.

I've been twittering and facebooking on a fairly regular basis, which seems to fulfill some of the compulsive need I have to share random thoughts randomly. I'm now spreading it out, so it's not all just dumped on you. (You're welcome!) Ooh, and I did have a teensy-tiny, squee-worthy encounter with Anthony Head on one of the sites that is hardly worth noting (it is so small it is on par with having said "gesundheit" after hearing him sneeze), but I will share this: "Tee hee hee hee hee!"

Secret: When Tony posts on facebook that he's sorry he hasn't been there in a while and a whole pile of people write to him and say, "No problem, we understand, you have a life" yada yada yada, it takes all of my effort not to amuse myself by writing something completely snarky and obnoxious back. I'd think that was funny if I were him, especially in light of all the vomitus fawning his fans lay on him, but I'm sure it would just upset everyone there and I'd get myself kicked off his friend's list permanently, which would kinda suck.
seldomifever: (landscape)
Okay, so I attempted insta-fic this morning and realized I write the same damn thing every time, whether I spend months writing or hours. Woe woe. I'm posting it later anyway, but still.

Heh. And I saw Sarah Fisher was back in town and my first thought was, I'll betcha Tony posts on FB today and guess what? Not that I really care, but it amused me. Why can't she bother updating his Twitter page as well? On FB he only has a couple hundred followers, but on Twitter, he's up to nearly 12,000. Neglect doesn't win you fans. Just saying.
seldomifever: (scruffy)
I'm fannishly squeeing over the new Star Trek movie tonight. Everyone needs to drop what they're doing and go see it at once, and I need to break out the dvds and start an original Trek marathon lovefest this Mother's Day weekend. Ooh, but I have company coming. Drats! Freckin reckin in-laws, spoiling my fun.

In other news, BG stories have been coming along quite nicely since the Everything I Write Is Worthless breakdown I suffered through earlier in the week. I wish I weren't slothily slow. I'd like to be able to post them soonish, but I'm probably going to need to save them as a guarantee I'll have something ready for Summer of Giles. I can't even begin to fathom why I thought it would be a good idea to sign up for two days this year. I don't know how you prolific writers post story after story. I am most envious.

I'm currently binging on this fabu XTC song. My brain's got it set on repeat, and I think the only way it can be purged will be to listen to it incessantly until I pass out cold this evening.

Gah. And I just realized it's Friday and I've failed at reccing again. Maybe I need to change my day.
seldomifever: (facepalm)
The trouble I have with writing...Well, one of the gabillion troubles I have with writing is that my ideas are so far beyond my capabilities, it feels like I'm trying to build a shelter with only a rock and some twigs. I'm frustrated by my inability to make it look like anything even remotely resembling what I had in mind. Meh. I am stuck in a vicious cycle of ineptitude and self-loathing. Why do I even bother to try? And why can't I just let myself give up on this already? At what point should you just admit this isn't going to work and move on? Grr. I need...something, and it's always just out of reach.
seldomifever: (smoking)
Gar rar rar rar.

Does watching movies like Gigi and Charade count as research? I'm trying to get myself in a mood, but my guess is fewer films and more writing is prolly the best course of action. Also think abstinence is the order of the day. Makes me edgy. But, you know, in a good way.
seldomifever: (shut up)
My daughter's friends really need to learn phone etiquette. Thirteen yrs old and they're like talking to toddlers. The phone rings. I answer, "Hello?" They say, "Hello." And then there's complete silence. Hrm. I guess it's better than when they demand, "Who is this?" Hey, kid, you called me, remember? Oy.

I'm considering ordering the Times for home delivery again. In the past, we've always found it to be too much paper. We can never keep up, and just end up recycling most of it, until eventually it gets to the point where we don't even bother removing it from its delivery bag before chucking it in the bin. But our hotel delivered one gratis every day, and, I've gotta say, I am hooked. Even before this weekend, I've been hankering to get my hands on the puzzle again. No matter how many years I work on it, I can never seem to get past Wednesday's. One's ability to finish the puzzle could be used in lieu of IQ tests, and, as in real life, I seem to fall short. My parents, of course, never have any trouble breezing through the week. In fact, they are so much smarter than me, they might even be much smarter than I. But I say, fuck that. Fuck, fuck, fuck


I have been working forever on a response from a simple prompt over at ye olde [ profile] mmm_smut. I am beginning to doubt I will ever be able to finish it. Must I complicate everything?

yes. yes. most emphatically, yes.

Finished Nora's book about her neck. Found it mildly entertaining. Honestly, it's the only book I've read that left me thinking I could have done just as well as she (er, her), if not better. But then, no one really cares what I have to say about handbags and manicures and child-raising, as demonstrated by my current lack of readership. Also, I found her a little difficult to relate to, inasmuch as she is really from another generation. Interned for Kennedy for chrissake. She's also very wealthy. And a Manhattanite. And, although she is clever, she is no David Sedaris, and I guess that's where she lost me.
seldomifever: (16yroldb/g)
We had a very busy weekend. Drove 300+ miles on Friday to get our girl, who loved camp, wants to go back next year for a full month, and didn't miss us in the least. Then Saturday we attempted to sail, but the gear shift wasn't working properly, so we found ourselves completely adrift in the middle of a very crowded marina. Kind of nerve-wracking, but we were rescued by the Lloyd Harbor Harbor Master, who happened to be passing by. He took our information, which I assumed he needed to write up a report, but husband says that he thinks we'll be getting a hefty bill in the mail for his efforts. Seems kind of wrong to me, but I guess that's how things are. Husband tells me that the HM isn't a tow service, and that we might still get a fine as well, cause husband left his registration in the car instead of having it with him on the boat. Hrm. Well, that's stinky. And today we threw together a last-minute bbq which was kind of fun. I like visiting with my family. Always interesting conversations when we're with them. And since brilliant, idealistic 21 yr old nephew was over, there was much debate. Good fun. Nothing more entertaining than arguing with intelligent people, imo.

I am feeling a little paralyzed over my story. First part's fine. Second part is in need of a major overhaul, but is basically complete. Third part is done, just in need of tweaking. But the fourth and arguably most important part is in shambles. I've got an outline, but I want it to be better than it's going to be. Drats. What can I do? I am limited in both ability and imagination, though in all fairness, I think I should give credit where credit is due: I am fairly good at panicking. Feel I'm making real progress in mastering the art of the complete and utter breakdown, and that's nothing to be scoffed at.
seldomifever: (16yroldb/g)
I have absolutely no idea where the day went. I was quite busy this morning, and then the next thing I knew, it was time to pick up the kids. A thousand and one musts to accomplish in the next few days, so efficiency is of the utmost importance, and yet I spent a couple of hours of the day reading really bizarre old fics, which was a complete waste, because I'm ages behind on my [ profile] summer_of_giles reading and commenting. I haven't written a word of my own potential contribution in three days, though I have been working through some of the plot points in my head. Doesn't do me a stitch of good until they're on paper, because the rewriting takes me forever and a day. I recently read somewhere that one of the biggest mistakes novice writers make is that they edit out the wrong stuff. They cut emotion and they're not supposed to, though for the life of me, I cannot remember what. My mind. Like a steel trap. And don't let anyone ever tell you different. All right. I gotta go and make a new list. That will be the first step in a journey that is, um, like really, really long.
seldomifever: (nice)
It's not new news, and I've said it before, but this really troubles me. Republicans in Florida changed the date of the primary for both parties, I think. DNC warned them if they did, they wouldn't count their delegates. Now the voters are disenfranchised. What is wrong with the Democratic party? Unbelievable. They will not be getting another dime out of me any time soon. Though Hillary might. Half expected her to be done already.

My sister came over yesterday (not next door one) and read my story for me. Gave me wonderful constructive criticism. I think she felt bad, but I really wanted to hear it, so I can improve. Had her read some work by other authors as well. She's not into fanfic, but she's sharp and well read. She can see what doesn't work so clearly. So much influences how I feel about a story. She has no emotional attachment to any of it and can cut right to the chase. I am much too close to see things. I've been trying to take a break from reading fanfic. Pretty silly since I still have all of these ficathon pieces to get through. But if I honestly hope to improve, I think I need to read more published stories again.
seldomifever: (ash/smg)
I have really mixed feelings about my first ficathon experience. I'm glad I forced myself to do something way beyond my comfort zone, but I'm not sure I'm pleased with the results. I'm still angsting over the last few lines. And now I see the person I was writing for has dropped out. Hrm. Had one beta reader vanish on me. Then I had another who made wonderful suggestions that I couldn't really follow too well, because I waited too long to ask someone else to read it. Guess I'll have to be satisfied with a sacrifice bunt.

This song is bringing me much happiness this morning.
seldomifever: (landscape)
Let my sister read my unfinished fic, and she said, "Don't change a thing." I told her I wasn't through. She said I was. Hrm. Don't know what I should do. Beta would like to see more, so I probably will continue. I keep thinking of that line from Six Degrees of Separation: When asked why all the artwork the kids produced in her class was so good, the teacher explained that she knew when to take the paper away. Hm. Plus, once I let the fantasy of actually being finished wend its way through me, I realized how relieved I was to finally be able to read fanfic again. Can't seem to do both.

We drove past a church yesterday and my son wanted to know why religious places always had a big "t" on them. Clearly, I have done something wrong.

And lastly, two of my sister's Orthodox co-workers have announced that if it's between Obama and McCain, they'll be voting for McCain. They told my sister his parents were Muslim extremists, which I, even in my woefully uninformed state, know to be untrue. It begins.
seldomifever: (upset)
Stomp, stomp, crush, crush. Clunkety, clunk, clunk, clunk.

seldomifever: (b/g 2)
Urg. I'm so unbelievably exhausted and I'm not anywhere near the end of my B/G ficathon story. Or not!story, as it were. I liked it last night, and today, um, not so much. But the wonderful thing about being so close to the deadline for this fic is that I've run out of time to chuck this version. It's going in, no matter what. Would somebody be willing to beta-read it for me when I finally finish? At this point, I have no idea when that will be, but it's not very long and shouldn't take that much time. I would be most grateful if one of you would agree to take a look.
seldomifever: (facepalm)
Was going to post littlest's funny Clillary Hilton comments today, but I fear kid stories are just off-putting.

Husband is taking tomorrow off, so hip hip, though it's s'pposed to snow. :( Good day for cleaning the house and working on my story. It's...progressing. The problem I have is that I'm just incapable of writing. Words fail me. It's a small technicality, and one I expect to overcome any day now. Yes, indeedy do. An-y day.

In the meantime, find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real.
seldomifever: (antigiles)
I have made great progress with my ficathon story. Maybe not story, by the strictest definition. Needs to be fleshed out a bit. We'll see how that goes. Sometimes fiddling too much makes things worse for me. But that will be the main project of today. That, and laundry. We're down to our muck-wading rags.

Feel a renewed energy to work harder towards my goals. I need to ride the crest of this wave as long as I can before it crashes and I'm left floundering once again among the seawrack and sargassum.
seldomifever: (nice)
Good grief. Beloved is driving me bonkers with the new house obsession. He's chattering at me all day, and I can't concentrate on writing AT ALL. He's a bit of a nudge, and can't stand when I'm not paying attention to him. Pesky ansky. But he's cute. I think I'll keep him.

I'm making very little progress on my story and the clock is a ticking. I'm on my fourth version of absolute garbage. I need a good brainstorming session to bounce me out of this rut. This is not that difficult. I am the master of the mountainous molehill. Need to snap out of this already. Must not implode.

I think I forgot to finish reading last month's Buffy comic, because I missed something crucial. My daughter's all "don't you remember..." Um, nope. I actually enjoyed this one, though, which is unusual, since I despise the comics. Joss is finally getting to the good stuff.


Jan. 18th, 2008 06:55 am
seldomifever: (manchild)
I was checking out the auction section of ASH's website and that old horseshoe sold for over $500! That is love. Or insanity. Or both. My husband would have a cow if I ever dropped that kind of dough on such an odd piece of memorabilia. Though, I can see getting swept up in the excitement of the bid. Preys upon one's competitive nature. That's why I never, ever gamble. I could imagine myself floating on that endorphin high. Thank Christ the Fisher-Heads don't auction off things I'd want. A blessing, I tells you.

Watched Superbad the other night. Funny, funny.

Writing's at a standstill. I'm very anxious about the ficathon and can't really do anything but quietly worry. I'm seriously tempted to bail before it begins, but I do not want to avoid things just because they intimidate me. Gah! I can do this. Right? I can do this.
seldomifever: (manchild)
I think one of the things that frustrates me most about writing is my inability to turn a poetic phrase. I got nothin' in me that even remotely thinks that way. I'm all clunky clunk clunk clunk. Drives me bananas when I read things that I wish to God I wrote, and deep down know in my soul that I never, ever will. It's a style issue, I've been told. Doesn't mean I'll never be able to write anything decent. But I want to write what I love to read. How can I stir the embers enough to light a flame? Damn. Damn damn damn.
seldomifever: (facepalm)
Gah. Reread story this morning. Why, oh, why can't I do this? And I signed up for a ficathon? What was I thinking? I'm hoping I'm just experiencing the depression part of my self-diagnosed bipolar disorder. Fucking yo-yo. This writing is hard work. And I get discouraged so easily.


seldomifever: (Default)

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