'If they ever drop the bomb,' you said,
'I'll find you in the flames.'
But now we act like people
Who don't know each other's names.
Well, sometimes it makes me sad, you know.
Sometimes it makes me smile.'
Cause you know how the game goes, honey.
We all eat it once in awhile.
Scissors cut, paper covers rock
Breaks the shining scissor
You hurt me
I hurt her and she goes and we will miss her
Now, I look around at people
Playing children's games.
And I wonder if you're still thinking
You might find me somewhere in the flames.
Scissors cut, paper covers rock
Breaks the shining scissor
You hurt me
I hurt her and she goes and we will miss her
Sunday, July 27, 2008
I challenge you all
So here's something fun for everyone to do...
Describe your life in six words. That's all. Just six words, and use them to describe your existence on this earth.
My personal favorite example:
"Discovered bad brakes at high speed."
Post them on here as responses or post them on your own blog, or ignore the challenge if you wish. I figured it would be a fun project.
Describe your life in six words. That's all. Just six words, and use them to describe your existence on this earth.
My personal favorite example:
"Discovered bad brakes at high speed."
Post them on here as responses or post them on your own blog, or ignore the challenge if you wish. I figured it would be a fun project.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Already? Wow, that was fast
So...got my first rejection today.
Not my first, actually. It's more like my fourtieth or something like that, but this is the first via the conference.
Don't care. It's disappointing, dejecting, depressing, and all those other "d" words, yeah. That's true. But...don't care. I'm twenty. I've got plenty of room to work, plenty more times to be rejected. I've also got plenty of time to find that one--it only takes one--that one agent who finds my work exciting enough to see what it's all about.
But until then, I'm content to read my rejections and smile. I can wait.
Keep 'em coming, baby. Keep 'em coming.
Not my first, actually. It's more like my fourtieth or something like that, but this is the first via the conference.
Don't care. It's disappointing, dejecting, depressing, and all those other "d" words, yeah. That's true. But...don't care. I'm twenty. I've got plenty of room to work, plenty more times to be rejected. I've also got plenty of time to find that one--it only takes one--that one agent who finds my work exciting enough to see what it's all about.
But until then, I'm content to read my rejections and smile. I can wait.
Keep 'em coming, baby. Keep 'em coming.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Whoa
Whoa. Let's say it again, folks. Whoa.
I met maybe...fifteen agents. Only five---5---didn't want anything. The rest of them requested either a couple of chapters, a synopsis, a proposal, and query and the first 75 pages...two even asked for the whole manuscript.
WHOA!
I had no idea I would get this kind of positive response. Even though I know it probably won't go anywhere, it's nice to know that my ideas don't completely suck.
Now it's time to really get down to work; I have a manuscript to perfect, and...oh, two weeks or so (tops) to do it.
And I thought the conference itself was going to be the hard work.
Right.
I met maybe...fifteen agents. Only five---5---didn't want anything. The rest of them requested either a couple of chapters, a synopsis, a proposal, and query and the first 75 pages...two even asked for the whole manuscript.
WHOA!
I had no idea I would get this kind of positive response. Even though I know it probably won't go anywhere, it's nice to know that my ideas don't completely suck.
Now it's time to really get down to work; I have a manuscript to perfect, and...oh, two weeks or so (tops) to do it.
And I thought the conference itself was going to be the hard work.
Right.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Writer's Conference
The only negative thing about this trip so far: our hotel is kinda in the ga-hetto, if you know what i mean. The rooms are uber nice (I sat in the WALK-IN closet to talk on the phone...)and we have lots of space to do stuff. The conference was pretty cool today.
Pretty cool, man. I'm probably the youngest person there, which is a little weird, but it's cool. I could take or leave NY city though. Too many people. Waaaay too many people. But everyone at the conference was nice, and....I MET LEE CHILD!!! seriously though....i kinda fangirled (internally) but I was very refined on the outside. He signed my book (WITH MY PEN) and he gave me personal advice on how to pitch a book. WOOOOOO
Here's my pitch (Pitch= your book in 25 words or less):
"After his family is murdered, a killer-for-hire fights to protect the life of a brilliant child while trying to avenge the daughter he lost."
Dunno, but we'll see i suppose. I'm going to be pitching that thing over and over again tomorrow, so we'll see.
Okay, i'm tired and daddy's already snoring, so i guess i'll talk to y'all later!
wish me luck!
idem me
Pretty cool, man. I'm probably the youngest person there, which is a little weird, but it's cool. I could take or leave NY city though. Too many people. Waaaay too many people. But everyone at the conference was nice, and....I MET LEE CHILD!!! seriously though....i kinda fangirled (internally) but I was very refined on the outside. He signed my book (WITH MY PEN) and he gave me personal advice on how to pitch a book. WOOOOOO
Here's my pitch (Pitch= your book in 25 words or less):
"After his family is murdered, a killer-for-hire fights to protect the life of a brilliant child while trying to avenge the daughter he lost."
Dunno, but we'll see i suppose. I'm going to be pitching that thing over and over again tomorrow, so we'll see.
Okay, i'm tired and daddy's already snoring, so i guess i'll talk to y'all later!
wish me luck!
idem me
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Bool! The End.
Panic climbs, climbs, it surrounds me, it envelopes me. I know this is a panic attack. I know that. I understand that. Somewhere in my brain I know that my wires are crossed; that's why my heart's pounding. My fight or flight response is confused--my body's telling me i'm in danger, making my heart beat way too fast and my body tremble and shake. I've done all the research, I know that my anxiety greatly contributes to my insomnia, and i know that lack of sleep can greatly contribute to anxiety. Great. Fantastic. The circle of hell.
I wish I could just say Bool! Everything is a joke. Everything's fine. I'm not freaking out about a writer's conference, because i don't have a dream as ridiculous as that. I don't have all these doctors appointments because i'm in great shape, and my elbow has never given me a lick of trouble. Right now, this moment, as i breathe way too fast and watch my hands shake as they fly across the keys, i'm not having a panic attack. God, I wish that were true.
Usually I can talk my way out of a panic attack, but seeing as it's almost two in the morning, that option's out. I know Rachel works today, and there's no way i'm calling her at two am for her to listen to me bitch and whine about how i can't breathe. I can't breathe though...no wait. I can. I'm breathing too much, actually. I'm hyperventilating. I've researched that too. Hyperventilation. The brain is getting too much oxygen, but your heart doesn't get enough of it. Your body is telling you you're suffocating and your brain tells you you're drowning.
It's getting a little better now. Apparently typing it out has almost the same effect as talking it about. It's two am and I'm supposed to meet my mom for breakfast at seven fifteen. I'm not sleeping tonight, looks like.
I wish I could just say Bool! Everything is a joke. Everything's fine. I'm not freaking out about a writer's conference, because i don't have a dream as ridiculous as that. I don't have all these doctors appointments because i'm in great shape, and my elbow has never given me a lick of trouble. Right now, this moment, as i breathe way too fast and watch my hands shake as they fly across the keys, i'm not having a panic attack. God, I wish that were true.
Usually I can talk my way out of a panic attack, but seeing as it's almost two in the morning, that option's out. I know Rachel works today, and there's no way i'm calling her at two am for her to listen to me bitch and whine about how i can't breathe. I can't breathe though...no wait. I can. I'm breathing too much, actually. I'm hyperventilating. I've researched that too. Hyperventilation. The brain is getting too much oxygen, but your heart doesn't get enough of it. Your body is telling you you're suffocating and your brain tells you you're drowning.
It's getting a little better now. Apparently typing it out has almost the same effect as talking it about. It's two am and I'm supposed to meet my mom for breakfast at seven fifteen. I'm not sleeping tonight, looks like.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
I Hate Editing.
It was gorgeous outside today. What was I doing, you may ask yourself? I was editing.
All fucking day. (Sorry to anyone that language offends...but it's warranted here.) Tearing your own words to pieces, again and again, then once more just for the hell of it...that sucks. It's harder than you can guess, especially when the work is something you're particularly proud of. Or at least something you *thought* you were proud of, until you started tearing it apart and realizing how much it sucks. So that's what I did all day. And yes, it is as fun as it sounds.
Then I went to see "Wanted", which was completely ridiculous but also ridiculously entertaining. I must own that movie when it comes out.
And now, what am I doing? Say it together, folks, I'm editing. Big surprise, huh? Big, fat, surprise.
I have no idea how to prepare for this writer's conference. It's...8 days?...eight days away, I think...holy crap. There's no way in hell I'm going to be ready for this. No way.
I'm just terrified that I'm going to go and waste my time and my father's well-earned money. I'm afraid his pride will go unfounded, his support will have been misplaced. All of those things can happen, folks, and I'm terrified that they will. I need a break from this. I'm trying and trying and trying to prepare but all I'm doing is freaking myself out.
How can I do this without driving myself (or my parents) up the wall with questions and uncertainties? How can I do this without failing, without completely letting myself and everyone around me down?
The more pertinent question: How in the hell am I gonna do this at all?
All fucking day. (Sorry to anyone that language offends...but it's warranted here.) Tearing your own words to pieces, again and again, then once more just for the hell of it...that sucks. It's harder than you can guess, especially when the work is something you're particularly proud of. Or at least something you *thought* you were proud of, until you started tearing it apart and realizing how much it sucks. So that's what I did all day. And yes, it is as fun as it sounds.
Then I went to see "Wanted", which was completely ridiculous but also ridiculously entertaining. I must own that movie when it comes out.
And now, what am I doing? Say it together, folks, I'm editing. Big surprise, huh? Big, fat, surprise.
I have no idea how to prepare for this writer's conference. It's...8 days?...eight days away, I think...holy crap. There's no way in hell I'm going to be ready for this. No way.
I'm just terrified that I'm going to go and waste my time and my father's well-earned money. I'm afraid his pride will go unfounded, his support will have been misplaced. All of those things can happen, folks, and I'm terrified that they will. I need a break from this. I'm trying and trying and trying to prepare but all I'm doing is freaking myself out.
How can I do this without driving myself (or my parents) up the wall with questions and uncertainties? How can I do this without failing, without completely letting myself and everyone around me down?
The more pertinent question: How in the hell am I gonna do this at all?
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