My Novel

My novel

I'm going to write a novel.  It's going to be a retelling of "Twilight," but instead of someone from the south moving to the northwest, I'm going to have someone from the northwest moving to the south.  Because, y'know, I'm from the south. 

Instead of sparkling in the sun, though, my vampires are going to smoke. I don't mean literally smoke some Marlboro's, but that would probably be a good idea too because in order to be a bad boy you've got to actually do something bad. 

Another notable difference will also be that, whereas the characters in "Twilight" have all this sexual tension while nevertheless remaining pristinely abstinent, my characters are going to have all of this sexual tension while nevertheless remaining pristinely absent despite and perhaps even because of vivid imaginings of sexual encounters that will go on for pages at a time.

I'm going to have J edit it for "segmantic and pramatics," someone like Fletcher edit it for thematic consistency, and girls like Mindy & A edit it for sheer feminine appeal. 

I just realized that jokes like the one above are probably why J gets pissed off at my jokes sometimes; it probably seems like I'm undermining his endeavors.

I'm writing so much these days, creatively, that is, but unfortunately I'm not doing as much work on my BA as I should be.  Yesterday we went to the Pub for my BA Seminar but I was so annoyed, if I wanted to drink in my spare time, I certainly wouldn't drink with you. 

I might be crazy but I think that the beautiful girl in my Introduction to Poetry class was staring back at me today.  Maybe I've got a shot. I met a gay girl at E's party the other day; I know that she was gay because of her conversation.  But I wondered as soon as she was talking about some flighty ex-girlfriend of hers if perhaps that was the reason why her hand seemed to sort of quiver underneath mine when we shook, if perhaps she was trying to test something out. I probably failed. 

I have to write here that I'm pretty annoyed that my tumblr theme doesn't allow for italics or for small fonts.  How else will I talk about books and movies, damnit?!

that's what editors are for

A big thing that keeps me from writing is that I genuinely detest my prose. For a long time this caused me some angst because although I genuinely detest my prose I also genuinely feel that my personality and the way that I think is particularly suited for writing, for creating dramatic other worlds. I’ve written about this before, about the inability to tell whether it’s watching so many movies and reading so many books that makes me so dramatic, or whether it’s this need for drama and romance and passion that both makes me want to seek movies and books as a source of drama as well as escape the world that rejects my dramatic nature.

But in spite of all of this I’ve still started to write. I realized that the reasons I think my writing veers towards the “visual” and “cinematic” are also the reasons why I should keep writing prose. I think I’ve got a good grasp of compelling thematic elements, vivid characters (because I just mix & mash from my own life), interesting stories, and good dialogue (again, because I rewrite conversations I’ve had as well as the conversations I crazily imagine myself happening).

I HAVE to be a writer, I HAVE to, I HAVE to. Otherwise what the fuck is all that energy that I spend on my vivid fantasies for?

i12bent:

“The only way art lives is through the experience of the observer. The reality of art begins with the eyes of the beholder, through imagination, invention and confrontation.” — Keith Haring

"The only way to live our lives is by flying the shit out of stick men."

It's so hard not to cheat

When it feels so good

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