Okay, so this is only half true. I slept. I just forgot to go to bed until, like, 4 am. (Which is why I ended up not blogging yesterday.) In truth, this has been happening a lot lately.
I did have a pretty good sleep schedule, at one point. Go to bed at 12:30. Get up at 8:30. Slyly refuse questions as to why I get up so early when I never work until 4 in the afternoon. Watch Live! with Kelly and Michael (and get frustrated when I can't answer the trivia question for Holiday Escape Travel Trivia, despite the fact that I am not actually in the running to win the trip to Florida or whatever the wheel happened to land on). Pretend to write when I'm actually not (but shh don't tell anyone). Work. Come home and try to decide what slightly useless but incredibly fun activity I should do before bed, only to spend 2-3 hours bumming around on my phone, thus wasting the opportunity to do something slightly useless and incredibly fun and get slightly frustrated at myself for that.
And that in a nutshell is my life. Woo hoo.
What was I talking about? Right, sleeping. Sleeping is great. Too bad I forget to do it.
My dad left the front door open because he has clearly forgotten that this is Manitoba in the dead of winter and we as a species cannot survive if we leave the door open all willy nilly. (He claims that he was taking out the garbage but I think he could have at least tried to close the door.)
This was going to be a more informative blog post but it just sort of turned into me rambling. Such is my life. (I blame the sleep deprivation from last night.)
Until later,
- Justyne
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Spreading the Christmas Cheer
4 more days! My annual Christmas Countdown is nearing it's end. My most favourite holiday will soon be upon us, and you know what that means...
PRESENTS!!!
Earlier this year I made a goal; to give as many presents to as many people as possible. The outcome is the picture above: 60+ Christmas-themed goodie bags, containing chocolate and lollipops and minty candies. I also wrote out 60+ Christmas cards, which have almost all been either passed out or stuffed in the mailbox. I've finished my shopping, almost finished my wrapping, and with Christmas carols blaring out of my speakers 24/7, I'm more than ready for Christmas.
I started bringing those goodie bags to work last week. I made more than enough to give to each and every one of my coworkers, and their reactions were fantastic. There were smiles and hugs and it just put me in the absolute GREATEST of moods!
I truly do love every little bit of this holiday. The music, the television, the magic. It's a time of year that brings incredibly joy, that makes it feel like anything can happen. Most importantly, I love the feeling when you have absolutely hit the nail on the head with your choice in Christmas gifts; when your colourfully wrapped box brings absolute joy to its recipient. It's beautiful, wonderful, and absolutely amazing.
If I could pass along these goodie bags to all of you reading this, I would. However, since that would involve the use of a private investigator, quite a bit of stalking, and an extreme amount of shipping costs, I will settle for this:
I wish all of you a wonderful, amazing, and truly Merry Christmas. Spend it with your family. Spend it with your friends. And have an incredibly happy holiday season. :)
Until later,
- Justyne
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Self Discipline
If there's one thing I've learned from NaNoWriMo, it's that forcing yourself to write every day is hard. How I did it last year, I'll never know--this year, November was filled with 4-5 day writeless stretches. (Which was good for my mental sanity, but not so much for my poor word count.) Blogging every week is hard enough--which is kinda-sorta why I'm posting this at 3 am. This whole experience that I began last March just makes me wonder how the hell I've managed to win NaNoWriMo two years in a row.
It also makes me wonder why, if I can do it for a month, am I so terrible at doing it for the other 11?
I'll tell you why. Because I'm weak.
"Oh hey, I haven't played Sims in a while. Just for an hour, no big deal, then I'll write."
"Oh wow, this music is from the Tangled soundtrack! Sure haven't seen that in a while. Maybe I'll watch it."
"Frozen is only going to be in theatres for so long; I better watch it as many times as humanly possible before it leaves!"
So you see my dilemma.
It's not so much a case of procrastination, as it is of just not having any self control to sit myself down and write, with no distractions. I find quiet boring; I like to be upstairs, where everyone is talking and watching TV. I like to have background noise, like music, but it distracts me to the point that I don't get a whole lot done. I would rather write out in the open, where people can pass me by and I don't feel quite so lonely and cooped up in my bedroom.
But I have the attention span of a...thing that has a short attention span. (Shush, it's late.) I get distracted easily. And I relish in those distractions--I love noise, I love chaos. (Why do you think I work in a restaurant?) I love being flexible, and hate having to structure my writing in a strict fashion.
But if I don't, it doesn't get done.
The real problem with this is that I have absolutely no self control, at all. If something tempts me, I go for it. (Exhibit A: I watched two movies on Netflix tonight, instead of starting this blog post earlier.) (Exhibit B: I am an extremely impulsive buyer.) (Exhibit C: I'll walk to Tims in half snow / half rain because gosh darn it I want my cappuccino.)
So, if I see my Sims icon calling to me on my desktop, I will most likely click it.
If I see or hear something that reminds me of how much I love Tangled, I will most likely sit down and watch it.
If I discover that both me and a friend are free on the same night and they're willing to go see Frozen with me for the fourth time, you can bet that I will be at that movie theatre faster than you can give me the showtime. (Not that that's really necessary; I have seen it three times, after all.) (Side note: I absolutely adore this movie. A+ Disney.)
This little part of me does have its pros. It means that if I'm inspired to write, then gosh darn it, I will sit my little butt down and write. It just also means that if someone were to call me up and ask me to go out for supper, well, I would probably drop everything and go.
Such is my life.
Until later,
- Justyne
(P.S. If you're wondering what happened to Snippet Sunday...well, it's turning into less of an every-week thing, and more into a whenever-I-decide-to-do-it thing. The reason being that, after a certain point, I found I was running out of snippets to share, without spoiling too much of the story. So every now and then, I'll throw out a snippet for you guys--a larger snippet, with more content and quite possibly higher quality. You'll still get them--just not as often.)
It also makes me wonder why, if I can do it for a month, am I so terrible at doing it for the other 11?
I'll tell you why. Because I'm weak.
"Oh hey, I haven't played Sims in a while. Just for an hour, no big deal, then I'll write."
"Oh wow, this music is from the Tangled soundtrack! Sure haven't seen that in a while. Maybe I'll watch it."
"Frozen is only going to be in theatres for so long; I better watch it as many times as humanly possible before it leaves!"
So you see my dilemma.
It's not so much a case of procrastination, as it is of just not having any self control to sit myself down and write, with no distractions. I find quiet boring; I like to be upstairs, where everyone is talking and watching TV. I like to have background noise, like music, but it distracts me to the point that I don't get a whole lot done. I would rather write out in the open, where people can pass me by and I don't feel quite so lonely and cooped up in my bedroom.
But I have the attention span of a...thing that has a short attention span. (Shush, it's late.) I get distracted easily. And I relish in those distractions--I love noise, I love chaos. (Why do you think I work in a restaurant?) I love being flexible, and hate having to structure my writing in a strict fashion.
But if I don't, it doesn't get done.
The real problem with this is that I have absolutely no self control, at all. If something tempts me, I go for it. (Exhibit A: I watched two movies on Netflix tonight, instead of starting this blog post earlier.) (Exhibit B: I am an extremely impulsive buyer.) (Exhibit C: I'll walk to Tims in half snow / half rain because gosh darn it I want my cappuccino.)
So, if I see my Sims icon calling to me on my desktop, I will most likely click it.
If I see or hear something that reminds me of how much I love Tangled, I will most likely sit down and watch it.
If I discover that both me and a friend are free on the same night and they're willing to go see Frozen with me for the fourth time, you can bet that I will be at that movie theatre faster than you can give me the showtime. (Not that that's really necessary; I have seen it three times, after all.) (Side note: I absolutely adore this movie. A+ Disney.)
This little part of me does have its pros. It means that if I'm inspired to write, then gosh darn it, I will sit my little butt down and write. It just also means that if someone were to call me up and ask me to go out for supper, well, I would probably drop everything and go.
Such is my life.
Until later,
- Justyne
(P.S. If you're wondering what happened to Snippet Sunday...well, it's turning into less of an every-week thing, and more into a whenever-I-decide-to-do-it thing. The reason being that, after a certain point, I found I was running out of snippets to share, without spoiling too much of the story. So every now and then, I'll throw out a snippet for you guys--a larger snippet, with more content and quite possibly higher quality. You'll still get them--just not as often.)
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Post-NaNo
YES! It may have taken 12k on the final day, I may have just squeaked by at 11 pm, and I may not be entirely done the story (even after using two NaNo's to write it...shh), but I did it! As you can clearly see from my little stats bar on the right, I (somehow) managed to pull through with a grand total of 50,568 words, thus winning my second year in a row.
Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.
The thing I love most about NaNoWriMo is that it's almost like a school year. At the beginning, you're inspired and motivated. You sit down every day and you write those 1,667 words like nobody's business because gosh darn it, this year will be different! But then, as the month goes on, you fall out of the groove a little bit. Those 1,667 daily words turn into 1,600, then 1,000, then less and less until you're lucky if you get any words down at all.
The end of the month is the best--or the best, depending on how you look at it. The clock is ticking and there's all this pressure and while you're not necessarily scared of failing you just don't want to because you committed to this, gosh darn it, and if you don't follow through you will never live it down. Be the circumstances good or bad, though, some people--myself included--against all odds, manage to pull through and write thousands of words in a day.
I think I can safely say that November 30th will always be my most productive writing day.
The only problem is that after all is said and done, I'm left feeling exhausted. Say what you will, but writing 50,000 words in a month is hard--especially when over 1/5 of it is written on the final day. (I never was too good at pacing myself.) The post-NaNo period is always spent by me doing nothing except playing Sims. (And catching up on all of the TV shows I missed during November.) Seems pretty counter-productive, when you think about it; spending such a long period of time working hard, then spending a couple weeks doing nothing.
But you know what? I think I deserve it. As do all of you other wrimos; whether you wrote 50,000, or only managed 100, consider yourself a winner. You dedicated a month to writing; now dedicate three hours to playing Sims.
Until later,
- Justyne
Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.
The thing I love most about NaNoWriMo is that it's almost like a school year. At the beginning, you're inspired and motivated. You sit down every day and you write those 1,667 words like nobody's business because gosh darn it, this year will be different! But then, as the month goes on, you fall out of the groove a little bit. Those 1,667 daily words turn into 1,600, then 1,000, then less and less until you're lucky if you get any words down at all.
The end of the month is the best--or the best, depending on how you look at it. The clock is ticking and there's all this pressure and while you're not necessarily scared of failing you just don't want to because you committed to this, gosh darn it, and if you don't follow through you will never live it down. Be the circumstances good or bad, though, some people--myself included--against all odds, manage to pull through and write thousands of words in a day.
I think I can safely say that November 30th will always be my most productive writing day.
The only problem is that after all is said and done, I'm left feeling exhausted. Say what you will, but writing 50,000 words in a month is hard--especially when over 1/5 of it is written on the final day. (I never was too good at pacing myself.) The post-NaNo period is always spent by me doing nothing except playing Sims. (And catching up on all of the TV shows I missed during November.) Seems pretty counter-productive, when you think about it; spending such a long period of time working hard, then spending a couple weeks doing nothing.
But you know what? I think I deserve it. As do all of you other wrimos; whether you wrote 50,000, or only managed 100, consider yourself a winner. You dedicated a month to writing; now dedicate three hours to playing Sims.
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, November 29, 2013
Because I'm Awake, That's Why (NaNoWriMo, the Final Days)
Yes, it's after one in the morning. Yes, I'm still up. (No, I wasn't writing. Because clearly that would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it.)
I've spent the past few days obsessively updating my word count on NaNoWriMo.org (but really, when am I not doing that?) and obsessively comparing my current word count with my word count for past novels, on the same date.
What can I say? I'm curious!
Anyway, I am happy to say that, while my writing may have been completely and totally sporadic this past month, I have somehow managed to pull ahead of my 2012 self. I am currently farther in my novel than I was at this time a year ago.
Not by much, but still.
I think, above everything else, that this is true inspiration. Why? Because now, with three (okay, two) days left of NaNoWriMo, I am further in my story than I was on the final day of NaNo last year.
WHICH MEANS, fellow wrimos (and non-wrimos, I'm not excluding you), that I have no excuse. I will win NaNoWriMo 2013.
I'm not saying that I had doubts...okay yeah, that is what I'm saying. But have you seen my stats? Last year, I wrote every single day--even if that day only brought about 100 words. This year, I would spend four days writing 3k+ words per day, and then refuse to write for another five.
What did I say? Sporadic.
Anyways, I should sleep. I managed to survive the rest of NaNo without becoming sleep deprived--I'm not about to start now.
Until later,
- Justyne
(P.S. I hear footsteps upstairs. Either my dad is still awake or I will go upstairs to find my entire family murdered.)
(P.P.S. Why do I get so hungry at 1 AM? It's not fair.)
(P.P.P.S. This entire blog post is why I'm not allowed to stay up late.)
Daytime update: Upon further investigation upstairs, no one was awake, and everyone was alive. So I guess my house is just haunted.
I've spent the past few days obsessively updating my word count on NaNoWriMo.org (but really, when am I not doing that?) and obsessively comparing my current word count with my word count for past novels, on the same date.
What can I say? I'm curious!
Anyway, I am happy to say that, while my writing may have been completely and totally sporadic this past month, I have somehow managed to pull ahead of my 2012 self. I am currently farther in my novel than I was at this time a year ago.
Not by much, but still.
I think, above everything else, that this is true inspiration. Why? Because now, with three (okay, two) days left of NaNoWriMo, I am further in my story than I was on the final day of NaNo last year.
WHICH MEANS, fellow wrimos (and non-wrimos, I'm not excluding you), that I have no excuse. I will win NaNoWriMo 2013.
I'm not saying that I had doubts...okay yeah, that is what I'm saying. But have you seen my stats? Last year, I wrote every single day--even if that day only brought about 100 words. This year, I would spend four days writing 3k+ words per day, and then refuse to write for another five.
What did I say? Sporadic.
Anyways, I should sleep. I managed to survive the rest of NaNo without becoming sleep deprived--I'm not about to start now.
Until later,
- Justyne
(P.S. I hear footsteps upstairs. Either my dad is still awake or I will go upstairs to find my entire family murdered.)
(P.P.S. Why do I get so hungry at 1 AM? It's not fair.)
(P.P.P.S. This entire blog post is why I'm not allowed to stay up late.)
Daytime update: Upon further investigation upstairs, no one was awake, and everyone was alive. So I guess my house is just haunted.
Friday, November 22, 2013
I think this about sums it up (NaNoWriMo, Week 4)
28,653 more words to go.
8 days left in NaNoWriMo.
I need to write 3,184 more words to finish on time.
CHALLENGE.
FREAKING.
ACCEPTED.
Until later,
- Justyne
8 days left in NaNoWriMo.
I need to write 3,184 more words to finish on time.
CHALLENGE.
FREAKING.
ACCEPTED.
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, November 15, 2013
In which I discover the SECRET to NaNoWriMo (NaNoWriMo, Week 3)
Up until this past week, my daily word count has been pitiful, if not non-existent. 100 words here, 200 words there, 0 words over there. I was quite ashamed of myself, to be honest. I wrote over 13k on the last day of NaNoWriMo to win last year, and now I can't even manage a measly thousand words a day? Pitiful.
And then, I discovered something. The very well-kept secret to succeeding in NaNoWriMo.
Word sprints.
Okay, so it's not really a secret. And I'm not sure what I've been doing technically follows the definition of a "word sprint", but still.
For you non-wrimos, a "word sprint" is a short period of time--fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, etc etc--in which you just sit down and write. Nonstop. You put your fingers to the keyboard and type as fast as you humanly can to get as many words as possible in the time provided.
I've participated in one word sprint this past week (in which I got 1,027 words in 30 minutes--not too shabby), but most of my extremely productive writing was done, not in sprints dictated by time, but by numbers.
What a concept.
Turns out, if I actually make myself sit down and write in quick intervals of 100 or 200 or 500 words, I get it done rather quickly, and by the end of the day I have over 2k words done, as has been the case for the last few days.
The question now is....why didn't I figure this out on November 1st?!
Until later,
- Justyne
And then, I discovered something. The very well-kept secret to succeeding in NaNoWriMo.
Word sprints.
Okay, so it's not really a secret. And I'm not sure what I've been doing technically follows the definition of a "word sprint", but still.
For you non-wrimos, a "word sprint" is a short period of time--fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, etc etc--in which you just sit down and write. Nonstop. You put your fingers to the keyboard and type as fast as you humanly can to get as many words as possible in the time provided.
I've participated in one word sprint this past week (in which I got 1,027 words in 30 minutes--not too shabby), but most of my extremely productive writing was done, not in sprints dictated by time, but by numbers.
What a concept.
Turns out, if I actually make myself sit down and write in quick intervals of 100 or 200 or 500 words, I get it done rather quickly, and by the end of the day I have over 2k words done, as has been the case for the last few days.
The question now is....why didn't I figure this out on November 1st?!
Until later,
- Justyne
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Dead or Alive (Snippet Sunday, NaNo Edition)
Every Sunday, I share a snippet of one of my many writing projects here on the blog, for your enjoyment. In the spirit of NaNoWriMo, each snippet this month will be taken from this year's NaNoWriMo novel. (In other words, expect bad grammar and poor word choices.) Enjoy!
(Just a bit of extended information: my NaNo novel this year is told from two separate points of view. Last week's snippet was from Orlena--the main character's--point of view. This weeks is from another point of view--which one it is, though, I'm not quite ready to say yet. ;] )
~~
The dark figure was still there. Same distance. Same stance. Same position.
It may not have moved, but I sure had.
I’m not sure how much time had passed since I started walking; walking towards that…that person that stood there. It almost felt like they were waiting for me, ever patiently, to reach them.
It looked like they would be waiting for quite a while, though, as I had made little to no progress in reaching them…despite the seemingly long time I had spent trying. There had to be some trick, some other way to get to them. Otherwise I never would.
“Do you need help, child?”
I jumped at the sudden voice and spun around. An aged man, his face cloaked in wrinkles and his hair stained white, stood before me. His attire was white; pure, blinding white, that covered his frail and slouched body from his collar down to the tips of his feet.
“Who are you?” I asked. “How did you get here?”
He chuckled. His voice was deep. Deep and…familiar. “That, my dear, seems to be the least of your worries. Even if I told you who I was, I’m not sure you would remember.”
Remember? “So…do I know you?”
“You did, for a time.”
I paused for a minute, waiting for him to elaborate, but instead he remained silent.
“So, um…are you going to tell me who I am, then?”
“I’m afraid I can’t, you dear. The only way for you to figure that out is to remember for yourself.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “If I could do that, I wouldn’t be having this problem.”
“Remembering isn’t as simple as you think, my dear. Especially when the past holds as much pain as yours does.”
Pain? “So…are you saying that I don’t want to remember?”
“Not necessarily.” His silver grey eyes sparkled with kindness and sincerity. “There are many memories I’m sure you would like to retrieve; ones that are much kinder and sweeter than others. The painful memories form a block. Your heart and your mind have formed a blockage; a form of self defense, to avoid reliving the pain you once experienced in life.”
The way he said “in life” sent a chill down my spine. “Am I…am I dead?”
“I’m afraid there’s only one way to find out, my dear.” He extended a weathered hand towards me. “Would you like to remember?”
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
(Just a bit of extended information: my NaNo novel this year is told from two separate points of view. Last week's snippet was from Orlena--the main character's--point of view. This weeks is from another point of view--which one it is, though, I'm not quite ready to say yet. ;] )
~~
The dark figure was still there. Same distance. Same stance. Same position.
It may not have moved, but I sure had.
I’m not sure how much time had passed since I started walking; walking towards that…that person that stood there. It almost felt like they were waiting for me, ever patiently, to reach them.
It looked like they would be waiting for quite a while, though, as I had made little to no progress in reaching them…despite the seemingly long time I had spent trying. There had to be some trick, some other way to get to them. Otherwise I never would.
“Do you need help, child?”
I jumped at the sudden voice and spun around. An aged man, his face cloaked in wrinkles and his hair stained white, stood before me. His attire was white; pure, blinding white, that covered his frail and slouched body from his collar down to the tips of his feet.
“Who are you?” I asked. “How did you get here?”
He chuckled. His voice was deep. Deep and…familiar. “That, my dear, seems to be the least of your worries. Even if I told you who I was, I’m not sure you would remember.”
Remember? “So…do I know you?”
“You did, for a time.”
I paused for a minute, waiting for him to elaborate, but instead he remained silent.
“So, um…are you going to tell me who I am, then?”
“I’m afraid I can’t, you dear. The only way for you to figure that out is to remember for yourself.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “If I could do that, I wouldn’t be having this problem.”
“Remembering isn’t as simple as you think, my dear. Especially when the past holds as much pain as yours does.”
Pain? “So…are you saying that I don’t want to remember?”
“Not necessarily.” His silver grey eyes sparkled with kindness and sincerity. “There are many memories I’m sure you would like to retrieve; ones that are much kinder and sweeter than others. The painful memories form a block. Your heart and your mind have formed a blockage; a form of self defense, to avoid reliving the pain you once experienced in life.”
The way he said “in life” sent a chill down my spine. “Am I…am I dead?”
“I’m afraid there’s only one way to find out, my dear.” He extended a weathered hand towards me. “Would you like to remember?”
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, November 8, 2013
Falling Behind (NaNoWriMo, Week 2)
So. Week 1 has ended, and it seems that I have fallen behind already.
To be honest, though, I was kind of expecting that.
This is my 3rd year participating in NaNoWriMo, and I have yet to last past the first day without already falling a bit behind in my word count. Does that suck a little? Yes. Is it an accurate display of my procrastination habits? You bet it is.
But the month is still young, my friends. It's far too early to call it quits now.
The thing with falling behind in November is that it's really not that big of a deal. 8 days may have passed, but that still means that there are 22 days that you have to complete your 50k. It's not over until the West Coast says it is!
The most important thing to remember, through all of this, is that the true reason for NaNoWriMo is to write. Whether to get 50 words or 50,000 by November 30th, you will have succeeded. Because you won't succeed if you don't even try.
Wow that was super cheesy and cliched and I'm sorry. No time to dwell on that now--I have a bit of catching up to do.
Until later,
- Justyne
P.S. I added a little word count badge on the right hand side of the page. It shows my current word count and the percentage of completion I have achieved. So if you're ever wondering how I'm doing, just check back here. :)
To be honest, though, I was kind of expecting that.
This is my 3rd year participating in NaNoWriMo, and I have yet to last past the first day without already falling a bit behind in my word count. Does that suck a little? Yes. Is it an accurate display of my procrastination habits? You bet it is.
But the month is still young, my friends. It's far too early to call it quits now.
The thing with falling behind in November is that it's really not that big of a deal. 8 days may have passed, but that still means that there are 22 days that you have to complete your 50k. It's not over until the West Coast says it is!
The most important thing to remember, through all of this, is that the true reason for NaNoWriMo is to write. Whether to get 50 words or 50,000 by November 30th, you will have succeeded. Because you won't succeed if you don't even try.
Wow that was super cheesy and cliched and I'm sorry. No time to dwell on that now--I have a bit of catching up to do.
Until later,
- Justyne
P.S. I added a little word count badge on the right hand side of the page. It shows my current word count and the percentage of completion I have achieved. So if you're ever wondering how I'm doing, just check back here. :)
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Crumbling Away (Snippet Sunday, NaNo Edition)
Every Sunday, I copy and paste a snippet of writing here, to give you a taste of what I'm working on. Since this month is NaNoWriMo, everything I post for the duration of November will be from my NaNoWriMo project. As a result, the quality will be much, much lower than normal. I hope you enjoy it, anyway!
~~
I stood in the middle of the school auditorium. My hand fit perfectly into Drake’s, my dance partner, and my silver gown swooshed easily around my legs as we glided across the dance floor. The lights sparkled and reflected off of his dark eyes, smiling down at me. I caught the gaze, for a split second, of my best friend Lia. She smiled at me; she was happy for me. My gaze quickly switched back to Drake’s eyes. I smiled, grateful for my high heels as I leaned in to kiss him.
That’s when my world shattered. Literally.
The lights, the auditorium, everything disintegrated around me. Lia stared at me in panic, her arm outstretched as she, too, crumbled into dust. All I could do was watch in horror as everything fell apart around me.
I tried to lean into Drake; to seek protection in his warmth. But instead, I stumbled forward into nothing, almost losing my balance and tumbling to the ground. I spun around frantically.
He was gone.
Instead, Lord Borna loomed over me. His wicked grin struck fear into my heart; his eyes drove panic into my mind. The floor around me continued to crumble, leaving nothing but white all around me.
I fell helplessly to the ground, Borna’s laughter shocking my eardrums and rattling my brain. My platform of safety continued to crumble away until, finally, it was nothing. And I fell.
That’s when I woke up.
~~
I stood in the middle of the school auditorium. My hand fit perfectly into Drake’s, my dance partner, and my silver gown swooshed easily around my legs as we glided across the dance floor. The lights sparkled and reflected off of his dark eyes, smiling down at me. I caught the gaze, for a split second, of my best friend Lia. She smiled at me; she was happy for me. My gaze quickly switched back to Drake’s eyes. I smiled, grateful for my high heels as I leaned in to kiss him.
That’s when my world shattered. Literally.
The lights, the auditorium, everything disintegrated around me. Lia stared at me in panic, her arm outstretched as she, too, crumbled into dust. All I could do was watch in horror as everything fell apart around me.
I tried to lean into Drake; to seek protection in his warmth. But instead, I stumbled forward into nothing, almost losing my balance and tumbling to the ground. I spun around frantically.
He was gone.
Instead, Lord Borna loomed over me. His wicked grin struck fear into my heart; his eyes drove panic into my mind. The floor around me continued to crumble, leaving nothing but white all around me.
I fell helplessly to the ground, Borna’s laughter shocking my eardrums and rattling my brain. My platform of safety continued to crumble away until, finally, it was nothing. And I fell.
That’s when I woke up.
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, November 1, 2013
Aaaaaand here we go! (NaNoWriMo, Week 1)
First things first: Halloween. Uneventful, but fun. At the last minute I discovered an old Snow White costume and dressed up for the entire evening, even though I didn't actually go anywhere. I don't think I've ever had so much fun dressing up for Halloween before. (Next year, I'm gonna be Belle.)
Now, moving on.
My 2013 novelling adventure began at midnight, where, despite the fact that I already felt sleep deprived (I slept in, for God's sake, WHY was I so tired?), I managed to jot down around 500 words before heading to bed.
500 words and the day has barely even begun! I smell a successful month.
Alas, I must not dwell too much on the details of this blog entry. I have writing to do.
Until later,
- Justyne
Now, moving on.
My 2013 novelling adventure began at midnight, where, despite the fact that I already felt sleep deprived (I slept in, for God's sake, WHY was I so tired?), I managed to jot down around 500 words before heading to bed.
500 words and the day has barely even begun! I smell a successful month.
Alas, I must not dwell too much on the details of this blog entry. I have writing to do.
Until later,
- Justyne
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Head Over Heels (Snippet Sunday)
Every Sunday I share a little snippet of writing from my vast collection with you, the people of the internet. This week's excerpt is taken from "That Damn Umbrella", the first in a collection of modern day fairy tales. Enjoy!
~~
It all started because I forgot my umbrella.
My car broke down on the side of the road, about a half a mile from my house, situated quite literally in the middle of nowhere. No neighbours, no convenience stores, not even a gas station. Just my old house, sitting amidst the trees and fields one would normally find while driving down an old dirt road in the country. My phone was dead, my car reduced to nothing but a hunk of junk, and my house was still a good fifteen or twenty minute walk down the old dirt road.
Oh, and it was raining. Just to put the icing on the cake that was my day.
It was just drizzling at first. I don`t need my umbrella, I thought. My jacket will do just fine, I thought.
You’d think I’d know better.
Lightning flashed across the night sky, and the thunder followed shortly after, rumbling through the dark emptiness around me. I shuddered as I tugged the hood of my jacket down farther over my head. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a rain jacket, it sure as hell wasn’t doing much to protect me from the sharp droplets pelting against my body. The rain soaked through much too easily, chilling me to the bone. I ducked my head against the raging wind and trudged through the endless, muddy puddles, my feet squishing in my drenched shoes.
Why, oh why didn’t I bring my umbrella?
Another flash of lightning illuminated the sky, and I flinched at the thunder that followed. Storms have never really been my thing. Had it been this bad when I left my car, I would’ve locked myself in and stuck it out until I could walk home under sunshine the next day.
I guess Mother Nature had other plans for me.
Without the help of streetlights to guide me down the road, I was forced to use a flashlight to guide myself. My flashlight did the job well; it was the batteries, however, I was more worried about. The light emitting from my pocket-sized flashlight was beginning to flicker and waver, sending waves of uneasiness through my heart. I quickened my pace, which proved difficult along the muddy path in front of me. I prayed silently that someone would come driving by, but I held little hope.
Another flash of lightning brightened the road in front of me, and almost instantly, the beam of my flashlight went out entirely, leaving me in the darkness of the night. I cursed aloud, my voice lost in another rumble of thunder. Against my better judgement, I inched my way forward, taking a shaky breath to calm my nerves.
I have made this trek countless times by car, but walking at night, alone, during a thunderstorm is an entirely different experience.
It happened in the blink of an eye. I stepped in a particularly muddy—and slippery—patch of road. My balance slipped slightly, and just when I thought I would steady myself and escape unscathed, a pair of hands pushed against my back. Next thing I knew, I was tumbling down the ditch at the side of the road and rolling into a patch of trees.
~~
If you're interested, you can read the rest here.
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, October 25, 2013
The Final Countdown (NaNo Prep, Week 4)
One week left, guys. One week left until we all lose our sanity. (Or at least I will.)
As we count down the final days until November, I shall gather up every tiny, little, sometimes not quite helpful piece of advice I have and graciously pass it on to you.
1) Caffeine is your friend, so up-size that coffee!
2) Stock up on chocolate. You'll thank yourself later. (Don't forget that Halloween candy goes on sale on November 1st!)
3) Jeans are not a necessity. Wear sweatpants or pajama pants all week, no one will care. (Except maybe your boss.)
4) Nobody really expects you to pay attention in class. Write instead!
5) Be sure to crawl out of your room every now and then to let people know that you're alive.
6) If you start posting on Facebook halfway through the month, rabid chihuahuas will sneak into your house through the pipes in your bathroom and chew off your face during the night. Maybe.
7) Your sims cannot write your novel for you. Unfortunately.
8) November is not really over until the final time zone says so. If anyone asks, on November 30th you live on the West Coast.
9) Similarly, November begins when the Australians say so. If anyone asks, you're Australian on November 1st.
10) Bathing is optional.
Blog posts will continue as usual throughout November. The quality of them, however...well, don't expect any Pulitzer Prize-worthy blog posts for the next five weeks.
Until later,
- Justyne
As we count down the final days until November, I shall gather up every tiny, little, sometimes not quite helpful piece of advice I have and graciously pass it on to you.
1) Caffeine is your friend, so up-size that coffee!
2) Stock up on chocolate. You'll thank yourself later. (Don't forget that Halloween candy goes on sale on November 1st!)
3) Jeans are not a necessity. Wear sweatpants or pajama pants all week, no one will care. (Except maybe your boss.)
4) Nobody really expects you to pay attention in class. Write instead!
5) Be sure to crawl out of your room every now and then to let people know that you're alive.
6) If you start posting on Facebook halfway through the month, rabid chihuahuas will sneak into your house through the pipes in your bathroom and chew off your face during the night. Maybe.
7) Your sims cannot write your novel for you. Unfortunately.
8) November is not really over until the final time zone says so. If anyone asks, on November 30th you live on the West Coast.
9) Similarly, November begins when the Australians say so. If anyone asks, you're Australian on November 1st.
10) Bathing is optional.
Blog posts will continue as usual throughout November. The quality of them, however...well, don't expect any Pulitzer Prize-worthy blog posts for the next five weeks.
Until later,
- Justyne
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Floating Amnesiac (Snippet Sunday)
Every Sunday, I grab a snippet of writing hidden somewhere on my computer and post it here, for your enjoyment. Today's passage is the new-and-improved (i.e. completely rewritten) prologue from The Neutral, a story I began during NaNoWriMo 2012. Enjoy!
~~
I have no memory. Or at least, none of my own.
For as long as I can remember, I have been floating. There has never been anything around me; nothing but hot, white light. I don’t remember anything about myself; my name, my past, even what I look like is all fuzzy, like it was all a part of one big dream.
Voices echo around me sometimes. Most often they are regal voices, speaking in monotone voices that would put me to sleep--if I could sleep, that is. Sometimes, though, there are female voices; gossiping, teasing, whispering, giggling. The words are never coherent. Just a shallow buzz, muffled conversations, and laughter to jokes I could never hear.
Until finally, a voice echoes around me, her words finally becoming clear.
“Orlena! Come on, Orlena, it’s not that bad.”
Orlena? Is that my name? No, it can’t be. It doesn’t sound right.
But if I’m not Orlena…who is?
~~
I have no memory. Or at least, none of my own.
For as long as I can remember, I have been floating. There has never been anything around me; nothing but hot, white light. I don’t remember anything about myself; my name, my past, even what I look like is all fuzzy, like it was all a part of one big dream.
Voices echo around me sometimes. Most often they are regal voices, speaking in monotone voices that would put me to sleep--if I could sleep, that is. Sometimes, though, there are female voices; gossiping, teasing, whispering, giggling. The words are never coherent. Just a shallow buzz, muffled conversations, and laughter to jokes I could never hear.
Until finally, a voice echoes around me, her words finally becoming clear.
“Orlena! Come on, Orlena, it’s not that bad.”
Orlena? Is that my name? No, it can’t be. It doesn’t sound right.
But if I’m not Orlena…who is?
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, October 18, 2013
Cramming (NaNo Prep, Week 3)
When I say that I'm cramming, I normally mean that I've put off studying for a test too long and am cramming all of the information needed into my head in a measly 24 hours. (Which is, well, the situation for just about every single test I've ever taken ever.) This time, though, I'm talking about NaNoWriMo, during which the word has an entirely different meaning. (Okay, more like same meaning, but sliiiightly different concept.)
Your goal? 50,000 words in 30 days. Not an easy task--I only made it to about 14k my first year. (Granted, I wrote more than that the final day of my second year to win, but I digress.) I mean, your life is crammed enough as it is--school, work, chores, relationships, and that pesky thing called sleep that we apparently need--so finding time to squeeze in 50,000 words is definitely a challenge. But that's part of the fun, right?
When it comes down to it, finding enough time to write your novel isn't nearly as hard as it seems. It helps when you realize that all 50,000 words don't have to be written in one day. (Shocker, I know.) If you keep on pace throughout the month, you only have to write approximately 1,667 words a day. I know, I know, it still seems like a lot...so break it up a little more.
This is where the cramming comes in. Whenever you find yourself with free time--be it a minute, or five, or sixty--use that time to write. Before your class or shift at work starts, during breaks, on the bus, just before you go to bed, whenever. If you have enough time to browse through your news feed on Facebook, you have enough time to write. You have to cram writing wherever you can, in whatever tiny little increments of time that you have. At the time, it may not seem like you're accomplishing much--100 words here, 200 there--but trust me, they add up. By the end of the day, you could even find yourself with more words than the daily goal calls for.
If your schedule is already stretched pretty thin and you still find yourself struggling to reach the word count, try getting rid of some things. Make a list of the tiny little things you can give up for the month--Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, whatever--and try your very very hardest to stay away from them for the month. (I won't even try and fool you by saying that you'll never turn to them--procrastination runs abound during November, and odds are that you'll end up browsing through your various social media feeds at some point. But just try your best, that's all I'm asking.) If there's anything at all that you can leave until December--including recording your favourite television shows and binge watching them in celebration after you've typed your 50,000th word--leave it. It can wait. (Unless it's a bill payment, those can't wait. Please don't make those wait.)
Similarly, getting as much done as possible while it's still October is just as useful. Book any hair or dentist or doctor's appointments, catch up on your e-mails, get as much studying or homework done as you physically can before November 1st rears its ugly head. I would also suggest using the few days leading up to NaNoWriMo to sit back and relax. (Or play Sims furiously for hours, as you all know I will be doing.) Get those various books and video games and movies out of your system, so you won't be as likely to turn to them when you're suppose to be writing.
And last, but not least, remember that life happens. If, for whatever reason, you can't make your daily, or even the monthly goal, don't beat yourself up over it. If November is a busy month for you and you don't feel you have time to write a novel, alter the goal a little bit. Make it lower--or even higher, if you're an ambitious little jerk and think you can do better. The point of NaNoWriMo is to write your story, however much of it you can. Even if you only write 100 words, that's still 100 more words than you started off with.
We have two weeks left, guys. Get ready.
Until later,
- Justyne
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Singin' in the Rain (Snippet Sunday)
Every Sunday, I grab a snippet of writing--new, old, or somewhere in between--and post it here, for all of you to read. Today's passage is from "Gone", an in-progress short story I've been writing over the past few months. Enjoy!
~~
I wish I could say the sun shone brilliantly that day. I wish I could say that I knew something good was going to happen.
In reality, that was the last thing on my mind.
The wind whipped my hair around furiously, the rain stinging my skin as it pelted down onto my body. As much as I wanted to deny it, I could’ve sworn that I felt hail among the drops of water falling from the sky. With my car broken and my town lacking a much-needed bus service, I was forced to jog to school—a good twenty blocks away.
My umbrella proved useless as the wind simply pushed it, inverting it inside out and almost knocking it right out of my hands. I had long since given up on it, closing it and shoving it in the canvas bag slung over my shoulder. Wrestling with it was only slowing me down. I was already soaked and cranky—the last thing I needed was to be late, as well.
I was in such a rush to get to school and out of the rain that I almost didn’t see him. And I didn’t, not at first. It was faint, but it weaved through the sound of rain pounding against the pavement, floating gently up to my ears.
The cheerful, pleasant strumming of a guitar.
I slowed my brisk walk, temporarily forgetting about the droplets dripping from my wet clumps of hair, and looked around. Everyone was continuing on their way, seemingly oblivious of the young, good-looking man strumming his guitar; an acoustic version of the song Good Life by OneRepublic. My favourite song, I mentally noted.
His voice soon accompanied the instrument. It wavered in some bits, was totally off key in others. But you couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself, his own dark wet locks flying around his head as he swayed and shook his head to the music. His bright blue eyes lit up the gloomy day as easily as the sun could have.
Before I really knew what I was doing, I was calling out to him, “Hey.”
He continued on, oblivious to my calls.
I approached him and stopped a couple feet away. “Hey!”
He stopped singing, but continued strumming, his smile never disappearing from his face. “Can I help you?”
“What are you doing?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard above the weather and the music.
“Playing guitar,” he said simply, his smile extending further across his face. “What are you doing?”
I shook my head. “I can see that. But why?”
He shrugged, his hand still smoothly and effortlessly flying across the strings of the guitar. “Why not?”
“It’s raining.”
“Exactly.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I like the rain. I like playing the guitar. I like singing. And I like this song.” He grinned, his eyes brightening. “So why not?”
He finished up his song, and I found myself whistling the final notes along with him. As he began to pack up his guitar, he pointed to the building behind me. “Can I buy you a coffee?”
I turned around to see a Tim Horton’s coffee shop sitting peacefully behind me. I turned back to face him. “I should be buying you a coffee; you’re soaked to the bone.”
He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. I was rather fond of that grin already. “So are you.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “How about I buy you a coffee, and you buy me a coffee.”
He snapped the buckle of his guitar case shut and lifted it off the ground as he stood up. “Deal.”
I was late for school for the first time that day.
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
~~
I wish I could say the sun shone brilliantly that day. I wish I could say that I knew something good was going to happen.
In reality, that was the last thing on my mind.
The wind whipped my hair around furiously, the rain stinging my skin as it pelted down onto my body. As much as I wanted to deny it, I could’ve sworn that I felt hail among the drops of water falling from the sky. With my car broken and my town lacking a much-needed bus service, I was forced to jog to school—a good twenty blocks away.
My umbrella proved useless as the wind simply pushed it, inverting it inside out and almost knocking it right out of my hands. I had long since given up on it, closing it and shoving it in the canvas bag slung over my shoulder. Wrestling with it was only slowing me down. I was already soaked and cranky—the last thing I needed was to be late, as well.
I was in such a rush to get to school and out of the rain that I almost didn’t see him. And I didn’t, not at first. It was faint, but it weaved through the sound of rain pounding against the pavement, floating gently up to my ears.
The cheerful, pleasant strumming of a guitar.
I slowed my brisk walk, temporarily forgetting about the droplets dripping from my wet clumps of hair, and looked around. Everyone was continuing on their way, seemingly oblivious of the young, good-looking man strumming his guitar; an acoustic version of the song Good Life by OneRepublic. My favourite song, I mentally noted.
His voice soon accompanied the instrument. It wavered in some bits, was totally off key in others. But you couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself, his own dark wet locks flying around his head as he swayed and shook his head to the music. His bright blue eyes lit up the gloomy day as easily as the sun could have.
Before I really knew what I was doing, I was calling out to him, “Hey.”
He continued on, oblivious to my calls.
I approached him and stopped a couple feet away. “Hey!”
He stopped singing, but continued strumming, his smile never disappearing from his face. “Can I help you?”
“What are you doing?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard above the weather and the music.
“Playing guitar,” he said simply, his smile extending further across his face. “What are you doing?”
I shook my head. “I can see that. But why?”
He shrugged, his hand still smoothly and effortlessly flying across the strings of the guitar. “Why not?”
“It’s raining.”
“Exactly.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I like the rain. I like playing the guitar. I like singing. And I like this song.” He grinned, his eyes brightening. “So why not?”
He finished up his song, and I found myself whistling the final notes along with him. As he began to pack up his guitar, he pointed to the building behind me. “Can I buy you a coffee?”
I turned around to see a Tim Horton’s coffee shop sitting peacefully behind me. I turned back to face him. “I should be buying you a coffee; you’re soaked to the bone.”
He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. I was rather fond of that grin already. “So are you.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “How about I buy you a coffee, and you buy me a coffee.”
He snapped the buckle of his guitar case shut and lifted it off the ground as he stood up. “Deal.”
I was late for school for the first time that day.
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
Monday, October 7, 2013
Snippet Monday
I didn't do Snippet Sunday yesterday because I was in the city, visiting my good 'ol driving buddy, and was therefore away from my computer (and inspiration dice), and was thus unable to post a snippet.
Sooooo here for one week only...Snippet Monday!
~~
The following passage in an excerpt from The Decagon Project, a story following the adventures of Dani, an 18-year-old writer who wakes up one day and finds herself in the world she had been writing about for the past ten years. This particular passage is taken from the first chapter. Enjoy!
I have never worked for Daphne’s parents. I’d only just started working at their flower shop, “In Bloom”, the week before, and her parents had practically handed her the family business the minute she turned eighteen.
Daphne, on the other hand, had been working at the store since before I can even remember.
As a result, she had had the pleasure of working for her parents for years. So while I never had the opportunity, I had learned all about the experience through her.
I hadn’t heard good things.
But even if what Daphne said was accurate (and I, personally, found it hard to believe that they made her clean the flower cooler with a toothbrush), she wasn’t much more merciful.
So while she sent her younger brother Jason out on deliveries (a job normally reserved for me), she left me on inventory duty. This basically consisted of dragging bucket after bucket of roses from the big truck idling out back into the giant flower cooler in the store, all by myself.
Thanks, Daphne.
I sighed as I plopped the last of the buckets on the ground, shivering at the cold air sending goose bumps up my arms. As soon as I let go of the bucket, I dashed over to the exit and hesitantly poked my head out from behind the heavy cooler door. I glanced around, carefully scanning the hallway.
No Daphne.
I inched my way out of the cooler, closing it carefully and quietly behind me.
Sure, I was technically supposed to be working. But a quick break wouldn’t hurt, right?
I darted across the hallway, stepping on the tips of my toes to avoid making too much noise. I didn’t pause as I slipped through the door opposite to the cooler, holding my breath as I entered the staff lounge and closed the door behind me.
I stopped for a moment. There wasn’t a single sound outside the door.
Perfect.
I tiptoed over to the couch, where I had thrown my old, worn carrier bag on my way in. I slipped my hand in, feeling the familiar, rough surface of my most prized possession.
“Dani?”
I jumped, my heart beating a mile a minute. I yanked my empty hand out of the bag and spun around to face my best friend, clutching a clipboard with one eyebrow cocked higher than the other.
She didn’t look impressed.
“What are you doing?” Daphne asked, tapping her fingers against the clipboard.
“I was just, uh…” I eyed a pen sitting on the table beside me and quickly grabbed it. I held it up in front of me and smiled nervously. “I was grabbing a pen!”
Daphne narrowed her eyes slightly. “What’s that?” she asked flatly, gesturing at the pen tucked behind my ear.
I cursed silently and threw the pen back onto the table behind me. “Well what do you know, guess I went searching for nothing!”
I tried to escape, but she blocked the doorway with her arm, staring at me with the same unimpressed (with a hint of pissed) expression.
“What?” I asked, my voice piquing with fake innocence.
“You brought it, didn’t you.”
Her voice didn’t rise in question. She said it as a statement, a fact she had no doubt in her mind was true.
Working for your best friend can be a pain in the ass sometimes.
I backed away from the door and collapsed onto the couch in defeat. “Yeah.”
“Damnit, Dani!” Daphne sighed and dropped her arm. “You can’t keep doing this! If my parents showed up one day and saw that you were back here writing instead of working, they’d fire you in a second. They still own the place, y’know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Good.” Daphne paused for a moment. “But now that I have the stern talking-to out of the way…”
She tossed her clipboard onto the table and plopped herself down on the old armchair opposite of me. She curled herself up, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs, looking at me expectantly. “Tell me what’s happening in ‘The World’.”
I rolled my eyes. “Forget it. I’m not telling you.”
“Awe, c’mon!” she whined, looking at me with her puppy dog eyes. “I won’t tell!”
“You can read it when I’m done.”
Daphne snorted. “You’ve been working on that thing for ten years. You’re never gonna be done.”
She kind of had a point.
“At least give me a hint.” She flashed her puppy dog eyes again.
I sighed. “Cain dies. You happy?” I stood up and started heading out of the lounge.
“WAIT ONE SECOND.” Daphne jumped up and clamped a hand around my wrist, yanking me backwards. “What do you mean Cain dies?”
“Are there multiple meanings?”
“But….but he can’t die!”
I yanked my arm out of her grasp. “Sure he can. People die all the time.” My heart lurched in my chest.
“You know what I mean,” Daphne said more quietly.
I took a deep, slightly shaky breath. “At any rate, I’m the writer, so I can do whatever I want. I’m practically God,” I joked.
Daphne chuckled a little and paused for a moment, as if debating whether or not to speak.
“Well,” she said slowly, “he is the main character. Isn’t there a rule against killing off the main character like that?”
I turned my head to face her and arched an eyebrow. “Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Hamlet…”
She slapped my cheek lightly. “That’s different. Shakespeare was depressed.”
“He was not!”
“Well then why the hell did he kill off all of his characters?”
“I dunno, artistic license?”
“Whatever.” She fell back onto the couch and grabbed my arm again, dragging me down with her. “At least tell me how he dies…”
I gave her a look. “Not gonna happen.”
She started shaking my arm, rocking me back and forth. “PLEEEEAAAAAAAA—“
“Oh, for the love of—fine.” I yanked my arm out of her grasp again. “I’ll give you a hint.”
“Yay!” She immediately settled down, tucking her knees back under her chin and settling herself down in the opposite end of the couch.
I sighed. Sometimes I wondered if she really was the 26-year-old she claimed to be.
“Okay, all I’ll tell you is this: he dies protecting the one he cares about the most.”
“You mean that Layla chick?”
I rolled my eyes and stood up. “I’m not saying anything else.”
“Oh my God, it’s that Layla chick, isn’t it! I always hated her!”
“To be fair, it’s not entirely her fault,” I said, approaching the door. Daphne stood up and joined me, grabbing her clipboard on our way out of the room.
“That’s what she wants you to think!”
I rolled my eyes again, this time laughing a bit as the door closed behind us. “Whatever you say…”
~~
If you would like to read more, you can read the first seven chapters here.
Until later,
- Justyne
Sooooo here for one week only...Snippet Monday!
~~
The following passage in an excerpt from The Decagon Project, a story following the adventures of Dani, an 18-year-old writer who wakes up one day and finds herself in the world she had been writing about for the past ten years. This particular passage is taken from the first chapter. Enjoy!
I have never worked for Daphne’s parents. I’d only just started working at their flower shop, “In Bloom”, the week before, and her parents had practically handed her the family business the minute she turned eighteen.
Daphne, on the other hand, had been working at the store since before I can even remember.
As a result, she had had the pleasure of working for her parents for years. So while I never had the opportunity, I had learned all about the experience through her.
I hadn’t heard good things.
But even if what Daphne said was accurate (and I, personally, found it hard to believe that they made her clean the flower cooler with a toothbrush), she wasn’t much more merciful.
So while she sent her younger brother Jason out on deliveries (a job normally reserved for me), she left me on inventory duty. This basically consisted of dragging bucket after bucket of roses from the big truck idling out back into the giant flower cooler in the store, all by myself.
Thanks, Daphne.
I sighed as I plopped the last of the buckets on the ground, shivering at the cold air sending goose bumps up my arms. As soon as I let go of the bucket, I dashed over to the exit and hesitantly poked my head out from behind the heavy cooler door. I glanced around, carefully scanning the hallway.
No Daphne.
I inched my way out of the cooler, closing it carefully and quietly behind me.
Sure, I was technically supposed to be working. But a quick break wouldn’t hurt, right?
I darted across the hallway, stepping on the tips of my toes to avoid making too much noise. I didn’t pause as I slipped through the door opposite to the cooler, holding my breath as I entered the staff lounge and closed the door behind me.
I stopped for a moment. There wasn’t a single sound outside the door.
Perfect.
I tiptoed over to the couch, where I had thrown my old, worn carrier bag on my way in. I slipped my hand in, feeling the familiar, rough surface of my most prized possession.
“Dani?”
I jumped, my heart beating a mile a minute. I yanked my empty hand out of the bag and spun around to face my best friend, clutching a clipboard with one eyebrow cocked higher than the other.
She didn’t look impressed.
“What are you doing?” Daphne asked, tapping her fingers against the clipboard.
“I was just, uh…” I eyed a pen sitting on the table beside me and quickly grabbed it. I held it up in front of me and smiled nervously. “I was grabbing a pen!”
Daphne narrowed her eyes slightly. “What’s that?” she asked flatly, gesturing at the pen tucked behind my ear.
I cursed silently and threw the pen back onto the table behind me. “Well what do you know, guess I went searching for nothing!”
I tried to escape, but she blocked the doorway with her arm, staring at me with the same unimpressed (with a hint of pissed) expression.
“What?” I asked, my voice piquing with fake innocence.
“You brought it, didn’t you.”
Her voice didn’t rise in question. She said it as a statement, a fact she had no doubt in her mind was true.
Working for your best friend can be a pain in the ass sometimes.
I backed away from the door and collapsed onto the couch in defeat. “Yeah.”
“Damnit, Dani!” Daphne sighed and dropped her arm. “You can’t keep doing this! If my parents showed up one day and saw that you were back here writing instead of working, they’d fire you in a second. They still own the place, y’know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Good.” Daphne paused for a moment. “But now that I have the stern talking-to out of the way…”
She tossed her clipboard onto the table and plopped herself down on the old armchair opposite of me. She curled herself up, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs, looking at me expectantly. “Tell me what’s happening in ‘The World’.”
I rolled my eyes. “Forget it. I’m not telling you.”
“Awe, c’mon!” she whined, looking at me with her puppy dog eyes. “I won’t tell!”
“You can read it when I’m done.”
Daphne snorted. “You’ve been working on that thing for ten years. You’re never gonna be done.”
She kind of had a point.
“At least give me a hint.” She flashed her puppy dog eyes again.
I sighed. “Cain dies. You happy?” I stood up and started heading out of the lounge.
“WAIT ONE SECOND.” Daphne jumped up and clamped a hand around my wrist, yanking me backwards. “What do you mean Cain dies?”
“Are there multiple meanings?”
“But….but he can’t die!”
I yanked my arm out of her grasp. “Sure he can. People die all the time.” My heart lurched in my chest.
“You know what I mean,” Daphne said more quietly.
I took a deep, slightly shaky breath. “At any rate, I’m the writer, so I can do whatever I want. I’m practically God,” I joked.
Daphne chuckled a little and paused for a moment, as if debating whether or not to speak.
“Well,” she said slowly, “he is the main character. Isn’t there a rule against killing off the main character like that?”
I turned my head to face her and arched an eyebrow. “Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Hamlet…”
She slapped my cheek lightly. “That’s different. Shakespeare was depressed.”
“He was not!”
“Well then why the hell did he kill off all of his characters?”
“I dunno, artistic license?”
“Whatever.” She fell back onto the couch and grabbed my arm again, dragging me down with her. “At least tell me how he dies…”
I gave her a look. “Not gonna happen.”
She started shaking my arm, rocking me back and forth. “PLEEEEAAAAAAAA—“
“Oh, for the love of—fine.” I yanked my arm out of her grasp again. “I’ll give you a hint.”
“Yay!” She immediately settled down, tucking her knees back under her chin and settling herself down in the opposite end of the couch.
I sighed. Sometimes I wondered if she really was the 26-year-old she claimed to be.
“Okay, all I’ll tell you is this: he dies protecting the one he cares about the most.”
“You mean that Layla chick?”
I rolled my eyes and stood up. “I’m not saying anything else.”
“Oh my God, it’s that Layla chick, isn’t it! I always hated her!”
“To be fair, it’s not entirely her fault,” I said, approaching the door. Daphne stood up and joined me, grabbing her clipboard on our way out of the room.
“That’s what she wants you to think!”
I rolled my eyes again, this time laughing a bit as the door closed behind us. “Whatever you say…”
~~
If you would like to read more, you can read the first seven chapters here.
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, October 4, 2013
Eenie Meenie Minie Mo (NaNoWriMo Prep, Week 1)
With the start of October comes the beginning of The Most Stressful Time of the Year.
No, not Christmas. NaNoWriMo; or National Novel Writing Month.
I'm 99% sure that I've mentioned NaNoWriMo before, but in case I haven't (or there are still people reading this who aren't familiar with it), NaNoWriMo is a giant worldwide event which challenges writers to complete a 50,000+ word novel in 30 days. It takes place every November, which is coming up fast.
Which means, it's time to start prepping our novels.
So for the next four weeks, up until November actually starts, I'll be blogging about my adventures prepping my own novel, and hopefully pass on some tips to you, as well.
The first and most important step to prepping for NaNoWriMo is to come up with the actual story. If you're like me, you have a stash of ideas that build up throughout the year, just waiting for November to come along (or for you to finish your million other projects to allow adequate time for something new). I have one story in particular that I recently came up with, and I would love to dive into it for NaNoWriMo.
Problem is, I have one other idea that I would love to work on, as well.
Last November I wrote a story entitled The Neutral for NaNoWriMo. Due to the length of the story, I had to sort of cut it off half-way through (otherwise I wouldn't have finished by the end of November 30th). Since I have yet to write the second half, I figured NaNoWriMo would be as good a time as any. And that's been my plan, basically since I finished the first half of the story last November.
But then I thought of that new idea I mentioned earlier and, well, now I'm stumped.
Sometimes it is as easy as playing a quick little game of "Eenie Meenie Minie Mo". But no matter how many times I try it, I still find myself yearning to write the other story. I've been flip flopping between the two endlessly over the past few days.
So many stories, so little time.
For now, I think I've made my decision. I think I know which story I'm going to go with.
Which one? Well, I guess you'll just have to wait and see.
Until later,
- Justyne
No, not Christmas. NaNoWriMo; or National Novel Writing Month.
I'm 99% sure that I've mentioned NaNoWriMo before, but in case I haven't (or there are still people reading this who aren't familiar with it), NaNoWriMo is a giant worldwide event which challenges writers to complete a 50,000+ word novel in 30 days. It takes place every November, which is coming up fast.
Which means, it's time to start prepping our novels.
So for the next four weeks, up until November actually starts, I'll be blogging about my adventures prepping my own novel, and hopefully pass on some tips to you, as well.
The first and most important step to prepping for NaNoWriMo is to come up with the actual story. If you're like me, you have a stash of ideas that build up throughout the year, just waiting for November to come along (or for you to finish your million other projects to allow adequate time for something new). I have one story in particular that I recently came up with, and I would love to dive into it for NaNoWriMo.
Problem is, I have one other idea that I would love to work on, as well.
Last November I wrote a story entitled The Neutral for NaNoWriMo. Due to the length of the story, I had to sort of cut it off half-way through (otherwise I wouldn't have finished by the end of November 30th). Since I have yet to write the second half, I figured NaNoWriMo would be as good a time as any. And that's been my plan, basically since I finished the first half of the story last November.
But then I thought of that new idea I mentioned earlier and, well, now I'm stumped.
Sometimes it is as easy as playing a quick little game of "Eenie Meenie Minie Mo". But no matter how many times I try it, I still find myself yearning to write the other story. I've been flip flopping between the two endlessly over the past few days.
So many stories, so little time.
For now, I think I've made my decision. I think I know which story I'm going to go with.
Which one? Well, I guess you'll just have to wait and see.
Until later,
- Justyne
Monday, September 30, 2013
Looking Back (WFMAD Day 30)
Well, this is it. The final post for WFMAD.
Despite all of the days I was stumped, uninspired, and quite frankly just didn't want to write a blog post, I have to admit that I had fun over the past 30 days. If anything, this challenge has made blogging way easier. (Although it may seem as though the opposite is true, as a lot of my blog posts have been posted at midnight or later...but I digress.)
Despite all of the days I was stumped, uninspired, and quite frankly just didn't want to write a blog post, I have to admit that I had fun over the past 30 days. If anything, this challenge has made blogging way easier. (Although it may seem as though the opposite is true, as a lot of my blog posts have been posted at midnight or later...but I digress.)
I also learned, though, that blogging everyday puts a real damper on my other writing. In between the blog, work, and Sims (shut up, it's a necessity), I didn't have a whole lot of time to devote to my other writing projects. I was having fun, yes, but I was neglecting pretty much everything else. So while I may have 30 blog posts, 1500+ (!!!!) page views, and greater comfort in my blogging skills, everything else is WAY behind.
I'm sure I'll do this challenge again. I'm just glad this isn't a year-round thing.
It is going to feel SO weird not having to blog tomorrow. But you'll hear from me again, as always, on Friday. (And again on Sunday!) So until then,
- Justyne
Introducing Snippet Sunday! (WFMAD Day 29)
Today I'm going to start something that I've been meaning to start all month, but kept forgetting about it until now. I call it "Snippet Sunday", because it's Sunday and they both start with S and it sounds cool.
Basically what will happen is every Sunday, I'll post a little snippet of writing--it will either be something taken from an ongoing project, or something completely new, inspired by a roll of my inspiration dice. This will continue after WFMAD is over, so every Sunday you'll get an extra blog post, in addition to the one on Fridays. :)
In spirit of WFMAD, I'll roll the inspiration dice this week, instead of posting an excerpt from an ongoing project.
Genre: Fantasy
Character: Female child
Action: Explore
~~
It was dusk. The sky glowed with varying hues of pink, orange, and black, as the sun dipped below the grassy fields surrounding my home. I lay on the ground, eyes open wide as I waited.
One single, lonely star appeared above me in the sky. Then another. And another.
The sun was completely gone soon; the sky littered with thousands of tiny, twinkling lights. I identified the dozens of constellations my father had shown me over the past few years, each star placement as familiar as the layout of my house.
Except for one; one little star, whose shine dimmed and brightened inconsistently, who seemed out of place among the others. It flew in quick circles, and it was then that I realized it wasn't a star at all; it was a firefly.
I giggled and sat up immediately. It buzzed around my hea excitedly, before flying away in a flash. I jumped up and chased after it, my hair whipping behind me as the distance between me and my home lengthened.
Basically what will happen is every Sunday, I'll post a little snippet of writing--it will either be something taken from an ongoing project, or something completely new, inspired by a roll of my inspiration dice. This will continue after WFMAD is over, so every Sunday you'll get an extra blog post, in addition to the one on Fridays. :)
In spirit of WFMAD, I'll roll the inspiration dice this week, instead of posting an excerpt from an ongoing project.
Genre: Fantasy
Character: Female child
Action: Explore
~~
It was dusk. The sky glowed with varying hues of pink, orange, and black, as the sun dipped below the grassy fields surrounding my home. I lay on the ground, eyes open wide as I waited.
One single, lonely star appeared above me in the sky. Then another. And another.
The sun was completely gone soon; the sky littered with thousands of tiny, twinkling lights. I identified the dozens of constellations my father had shown me over the past few years, each star placement as familiar as the layout of my house.
Except for one; one little star, whose shine dimmed and brightened inconsistently, who seemed out of place among the others. It flew in quick circles, and it was then that I realized it wasn't a star at all; it was a firefly.
I giggled and sat up immediately. It buzzed around my hea excitedly, before flying away in a flash. I jumped up and chased after it, my hair whipping behind me as the distance between me and my home lengthened.
I was simply an innocent child back then. I couldn't have known what my fun little chase would lead to; nor could I have known that what I was following wasn't truly a firefly.
Before I knew it, I was traipsing through the forest, with only the light of the tiny creature to show me the way. I hopped around tree trunks and jumped over roots like it was a game, smiling and giggling all the way.
Before long, we arrived at a meadow. Thousands of fireflies lit up my surroundings, their lights twinkling and sparkling and shedding light on the beautiful flowers around them. Excited at my appearance, and quickly gathered around me, circling around my body so fast that their lights all blurred together in one massive tornado of light. I had never seen fireflies before that night, but as one flew past my face, I realized something.
They weren't fireflies at all. They were faeries.
~~
I hope you enjoyed it!
Until later,
- Justyne
They weren't fireflies at all. They were faeries.
~~
I hope you enjoyed it!
Until later,
- Justyne
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Christmas (WFMAD Day 28)
I am in such a big Christmas mood right now that I can't even handle it.
As I've mentioned briefly before (and as a good 90% of you will already know), I love Christmas. So much. I love absolutely EVERYTHING about it; the movies and TV specials, the music, the whole general atmosphere that surrounds that special time of year. I love decorating the tree and just about every other square inch of the house, and I love watching as the multi-coloured lights outside twinkle and sparkle against the ten feet of pure white snow that falls over Manitoba every year.
It is FANTASTIC.
As you can see, I get into the Christmas spirit really really early. I start obsessively counting down the days, and annoyingly blaring assorted Christmas music out of my speakers and throughout the house, and I just get super excited. I'm basically like a kid on Christmas morning...three months before Christmas morning.
The only problem with getting into the spirit so early is that no one else is getting into it. Aside from a couple of my friends (TAYLOR AND WENDY YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING), everyone gets annoyed when I start talking about Christmas in September.
But I just can't help it! I love it that much! I mean, not even the gift shopping gets me stressed out, because I genuinely LOVE planning and buying and wrapping everyone's gifts.
I think I'll end this now, before I start annoying you guys, too. Instead, I'll sit in my room, overly excited for a date that's still 87 days away (87!) and listen to Christmas music like it's already December.
Hey, on the plus side, it gets me in a good mood. :)
Until later,
- Justyne
As I've mentioned briefly before (and as a good 90% of you will already know), I love Christmas. So much. I love absolutely EVERYTHING about it; the movies and TV specials, the music, the whole general atmosphere that surrounds that special time of year. I love decorating the tree and just about every other square inch of the house, and I love watching as the multi-coloured lights outside twinkle and sparkle against the ten feet of pure white snow that falls over Manitoba every year.
It is FANTASTIC.
As you can see, I get into the Christmas spirit really really early. I start obsessively counting down the days, and annoyingly blaring assorted Christmas music out of my speakers and throughout the house, and I just get super excited. I'm basically like a kid on Christmas morning...three months before Christmas morning.
The only problem with getting into the spirit so early is that no one else is getting into it. Aside from a couple of my friends (TAYLOR AND WENDY YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING), everyone gets annoyed when I start talking about Christmas in September.
But I just can't help it! I love it that much! I mean, not even the gift shopping gets me stressed out, because I genuinely LOVE planning and buying and wrapping everyone's gifts.
I think I'll end this now, before I start annoying you guys, too. Instead, I'll sit in my room, overly excited for a date that's still 87 days away (87!) and listen to Christmas music like it's already December.
Hey, on the plus side, it gets me in a good mood. :)
Until later,
- Justyne
Comic-ing (WFMAD Day 27)
I have extreme respect for all comic makers. (Also don't mock my made up word.)
Have you ever tried making a comic before? Have you ever gotten just a little itty bit of insight into how it's done?
It's a lot of work, holy crap.
For those of you who don't already know, I have been working on a comic, myself, for about...four years now? (I'm really slow....like ridiculously slow. I'm still on the first chapter.) You can check it out here or here, although I'll warn you now that it's a Legend of Zelda fancomic (because as mentioned prior, I am extremely geeky). I'm really bad at updating it (like really really bad), but I have put a lot of work into it; so trust me when I say that comics are very time consuming.
Comics, I find, take an incredible amount of planning before you even START them. Changing something in a comic is a lot harder than changing something in a written piece, like a novel (especially when you're uploading the pages online one at a time, like me), so I find that it's better to edit the outlines, the scripts, and the thumbnails until you're absolutely positive that you are satisfied with the story.
Here's a checklist of the prep I go through before starting a comic:
- General outline (Lists chapters, and the major events in each.)
- Character biographies (Written, with information like likes, dislikes, background, etc.)
- Character references (Drawn, with different costumes they will appear in and different angles to be drawn in, to ensure that the character is consistent throughout.)
- More specific outline (This one is a more wikipedia-esque outline, that I usually type on my phone when I have little bits and pieces of spare time. It's a lot more detailed and has pretty much everything that's set to happen in that chapter.)
- Script (All the dialogue, a written description of each panel...basically like a movie or tv show script. I also use this script to separate the chapter into pages, so I have an idea of how long, exactly, the chapter will be.)
- Page thumbnails (Tiny little versions of the actual pages. The drawings are extremely rough, and all of the dialogue is on them. This is basically to get an idea of what the pages will look like, visually, before starting the good copies of them. The dialogue is so that I have less text to sort through when I'm plugging the text into the pages on the computer.)
And that's just the prep, you guys. PREP! Then I have to sketch the pages, ink the pages, scan the pages, tone the pages in Photoshop...
I get tired just thinking about it. No wonder I suck at updating it.
Meanwhile, there are professional comic makers, who are capable of producing an entire CHAPTER in a week. A chapter! I can't even handle a freaking PAGE a week...
Anyways. My point is that comic writers and artists are fantastic and incredible, to have such patience and perseverance to produce such beautiful stories. I have a deep amount of respect for all of them.
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, September 27, 2013
Marathons (WFMAD Day 26)
I love marathons. The television kind, not the running kind. (I'm not built for running.)
The best kind of marathons are the kind I make for myself. I mean, official marathons on TV stations are great--I did get a Phineas and Ferb marathon on my birthday, after all--but have you ever cnoticed that most of them play the same four episodes over and over and over again? If I'm going to watch an 8-hour marathon, I'm gonna want some variety, thank you very much.
My favourite way to watch any show is to marathon it--to spend hours to days to weeks doing almost nothing but watching the series. Go big or go home, as they say. (Although I guess in this case I'm normally already home...but you get the idea.)
The only problem with this method is that when it does come time to pull myself away--to work, to bathe, to get that valuable sleep that I so desperately need--it's extremely difficult. Never mind the whole laziness factor--because come on, the last thing you want to do after sitting on the couch for so long is get up--but after immersing myself in the story for so long, I just can't bear to pull myself away. Plus, there's the fact that every time I decide to stop watching, the current episode ends in a cliffhanger. A cliffhanger! How am I supposed to stop watching when the next episode is so readily available?!
The thing I probably marathon the most is YouTube videos. They're so short and funny and well made; it's impossible to "just watch one", and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.
I do a similar thing with reading, too. I don't read nearly as much as I used to, but when I do, I finish my entire book in a day (give or take). I'll go without reading for weeks, then pick up a book and have it done within the hour. (Please note the exaggeration.)
It all comes down to the story being told, basically. If I like the story, I'll go through it quickly. If I don't like it as much, it'll take me a million times longer (if I don't give up on it entirely).
I mean, why take your time with an amazing piece of work when you can speed through it in a day and cry when it's done? (That should be my motto.)
Until later,
- Justyne
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Different Paths (WFMAD Day 25)
One of the many, many things I love about writing is that there are virtually no restrictions to what you can do. Wanna make it up? Awesome! How about a recount of a true story? Perfect! Wanna talk more about yourself? No problemo, that's what autobiographies and memoirs are for! You can write novels, short stories, poems, plays, movies, TV shows, memoirs, biographies, how-to books, newspaper and magazine articles, comics, video game storylines...there is absolutely no limit.
Something I often like to do, when I start reading a new author, is read their little "About the Author" blurb. I like learning a little about the authors I'm reading--where they grew up, what their family is like, what else they've written...and, more importantly, how they got to where they are.
Because that, you see, is the most important limitless thing there is about writing. There is no "one way" to get there; you cannot google a step-by-step process to getting published. There are different ways of getting your story to the public; getting an agent, self-publishing, putting it on Amazon as an ebook. There are no restrictions or qualifications--all you need is passion, imagination, and, well, a finished story.
Is it possible to learn something if you take some creative writing courses? Yes! Can majoring in English Literature help you? Totally! But it can go the opposite direction, too.
I struggled with my initial decision to take English in school. I used to like English, really I did. But as I got older--particularly when the course name changed from "ELA" to "English Lit"--my fondness of the subject diminished more and more, until it eventually fizzled out into nothing. I never enjoyed the analytical portion of English--the part where you seemingly over-analyze every little word in an old book that you couldn't ever possibly care less about. (Did you know that the last time I read something for English I enjoyed was in 10th grade? 10th grade! We read like a million other books in class after that.)
I know it's probably weird, the fact that I hate English so much (with every fiber of my being, in case you weren't already aware). I mean, I like writing. I like reading. But even though English is composed of those two things, it is completely different, at least for me. I'm reading stories that I, quite frankly, hate beyond belief, and writing analytical essays that are composed of nothing but beaucrap. Two semesters of taking English in university, and not once did I ever have any idea what I was talking about in any of my essays. I was just making it up as I went. (How I managed to pull off an 80 in that class, I'll never know.)
I've heard time and time again that taking English Literature courses are supposed to "help" my writing, but truthfully, I didn't learn anything. Not. A. Thing.
I've considered applying to another school. I've thought about searching for schools with bigger creative writing programs; that actually offer enough that I can take it for four years. I know I'd enjoy it, and it could very well lift my writing to levels I can't even imagine.
Something I often like to do, when I start reading a new author, is read their little "About the Author" blurb. I like learning a little about the authors I'm reading--where they grew up, what their family is like, what else they've written...and, more importantly, how they got to where they are.
Because that, you see, is the most important limitless thing there is about writing. There is no "one way" to get there; you cannot google a step-by-step process to getting published. There are different ways of getting your story to the public; getting an agent, self-publishing, putting it on Amazon as an ebook. There are no restrictions or qualifications--all you need is passion, imagination, and, well, a finished story.
Is it possible to learn something if you take some creative writing courses? Yes! Can majoring in English Literature help you? Totally! But it can go the opposite direction, too.
I struggled with my initial decision to take English in school. I used to like English, really I did. But as I got older--particularly when the course name changed from "ELA" to "English Lit"--my fondness of the subject diminished more and more, until it eventually fizzled out into nothing. I never enjoyed the analytical portion of English--the part where you seemingly over-analyze every little word in an old book that you couldn't ever possibly care less about. (Did you know that the last time I read something for English I enjoyed was in 10th grade? 10th grade! We read like a million other books in class after that.)
I know it's probably weird, the fact that I hate English so much (with every fiber of my being, in case you weren't already aware). I mean, I like writing. I like reading. But even though English is composed of those two things, it is completely different, at least for me. I'm reading stories that I, quite frankly, hate beyond belief, and writing analytical essays that are composed of nothing but beaucrap. Two semesters of taking English in university, and not once did I ever have any idea what I was talking about in any of my essays. I was just making it up as I went. (How I managed to pull off an 80 in that class, I'll never know.)
I've heard time and time again that taking English Literature courses are supposed to "help" my writing, but truthfully, I didn't learn anything. Not. A. Thing.
I've considered applying to another school. I've thought about searching for schools with bigger creative writing programs; that actually offer enough that I can take it for four years. I know I'd enjoy it, and it could very well lift my writing to levels I can't even imagine.
But when I really, really think about it...I'm not sure if I really want to. Not right now, anyway.
Right now, I have other plans. Plans that involve my friends; some of the people I care the most in the world for. If I were to travel across the country, to attend one of the few schools I've found that allow programs I'm genuinely interested in...I'd be leaving my friends behind. Right now, that's not what I want. I'm not ready for that.
I don't need to follow some special path to reach what I want; what I've dreamed of for so long. And that's the best part--I can reach it my own way, be it through university or something else entirely.
Until later,
- Justyne
I don't need to follow some special path to reach what I want; what I've dreamed of for so long. And that's the best part--I can reach it my own way, be it through university or something else entirely.
Until later,
- Justyne
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Blogging from Tim Hortons (WFMAD Day 24)
I'm doing the cliched writer thing again, and writing in a Tim Hortons. I find I have an easier time concentrating here, as I'm not distracted by the television. (Curse you, Netflix!! *shakes fist*) It also gives me an excuse to purchase a large iced capp, so everybody wins! (Or maybe I just win twice? I don't know.)
I had a bit of a...mechanical difficulty (?) on the way over here. Since I can't drive, I opt to ride my bike most places (so long as there's not ten feet of snow on the ground, which I can guarantee will be the case within the next two months or so). My plan was to head down to the bank, then on the way back to my house stop at Tims for a little writing session. Before I even got the the bank, though, the brakes on my bike kind of....broke.
Luckily, I wasn't riding down the street at top speed when it happened. I was stopped at an intersection, then when I took off to cross the street, my brakes got stuck. (Side note: trying to ride your bike across the street when your brakes are stuck is the most annoying thing in the world, especially when you know there's a car waiting for you to cross so they can turn.) Once I reached the other side of the street, I tried to get them unstuck, and I succeeded. Kind of. Now my brakes just don't work at all.
Sooo now I have to walk my bike all the way back to my house, which is a huge pain in the butt and I'm trying to dawdle around here for as long as possible because I am not looking forward to it. I only have 12% battery remaining, though (that's what I get for not charging my computer before leaving the house, I guess), my sandwich is almost gone and so is my iced capp, so I don't think I'll be here for much longer.
So, uh, Dad....if you're reading this...can you fix my brakes? Pretty please?
Until later,
- Justyne
I had a bit of a...mechanical difficulty (?) on the way over here. Since I can't drive, I opt to ride my bike most places (so long as there's not ten feet of snow on the ground, which I can guarantee will be the case within the next two months or so). My plan was to head down to the bank, then on the way back to my house stop at Tims for a little writing session. Before I even got the the bank, though, the brakes on my bike kind of....broke.
Luckily, I wasn't riding down the street at top speed when it happened. I was stopped at an intersection, then when I took off to cross the street, my brakes got stuck. (Side note: trying to ride your bike across the street when your brakes are stuck is the most annoying thing in the world, especially when you know there's a car waiting for you to cross so they can turn.) Once I reached the other side of the street, I tried to get them unstuck, and I succeeded. Kind of. Now my brakes just don't work at all.
Sooo now I have to walk my bike all the way back to my house, which is a huge pain in the butt and I'm trying to dawdle around here for as long as possible because I am not looking forward to it. I only have 12% battery remaining, though (that's what I get for not charging my computer before leaving the house, I guess), my sandwich is almost gone and so is my iced capp, so I don't think I'll be here for much longer.
So, uh, Dad....if you're reading this...can you fix my brakes? Pretty please?
Until later,
- Justyne
People (WFMAD Day 23)
I torture my characters a lot. I kill their parents, put their closest friends and loved ones in utter peril, and just put them through extreme emotional termoil in general. It may be cruel, but it's part of my job description.
Characters are the most important part of the story, I think. Part of it is because, without them, there wouldn't be a story to tell--it'd basically be a painting. (Except with, y'know, words.)
The other part of it--the bigger part--is that the characters create a portal, through which we can access these stories. Crafting characters when writing is incredibly hard, because the characters are the ones we're supposed to relate to. We're supposed to sympathize with them, understand their situation, and root for them as they move through the plot. In order for there to be a plot, things have to happen. It just so happens that that most exciting things are also the most tragic.
Think about it: a story about a character, whose life is nice and pleasant and enjoyable. Nothing bad ever happens; it always works out. Doesn't seem very interesting, does it?
Let's face it: if everything worked out all the time, if nothing actually conflicted with our characters to make them act out against it, our stories would be bland. Boring. Absolutely agonizing to sit through. We need our characters to experience the bad, the terrible, the heartbreaking. It's hard to sympathize with someone whose life is seemingly perfect; how many of us can actually say the same of our own lives?
(Put your hand down, you are full of crap and you know it.)
More often than not, the main character is forced to learn something; about themselves, and the world around them. If they learn nothing, or if there's nothing for them to learn, then their role as a character isn't given room for growth and change. Character development is key; it works with the conflict, with the everlasting tragedy that is the character's. The conflict challenges the character, paving the way for the story to take off. The development makes the story worthwhile; like something bigger than the original goal has been accomplished.
And without the characters, none of this is possible. It is those characters, with all of their quirks and traits, that truly makes a good story.
Until later,
- Justyne
Monday, September 23, 2013
Fangirling (WFMAD Day 22)
Okay so I wouldn't normally do this but it's late and I'm seriously low on ideas so here goes nothing.
I'm bringing my dorky fangirly-ness into this blog.
Tonight was the season premiere of Castle, aka the greatest and one of my (if not my absolute) favourite shows ever. I got home from work just in time to see it, and let me tell you, I went nuts.
I sometimes forget, over a summer or other extended hiatus, how much I love my television shows. This premiere literally had me squealing. Squealing, guys. (Okay, so that's not really new for me ever, but still. SQUEALING.) I could spend all night going on about the show; about how perfect it is, all of my favourite, itty-bitty little parts, and how excited I am for next week.
Without going into much detail, though, I will tell you this: it surprised me. Whatever I was expecting from the premiere, whatever spoilers I had read and whatever theories I had invented, were all tossed away, right from the beginning. I don't think I've ever been so surprised by an episode of anything ever before.
I think I'll end this here, before I start keysmashing. Keysmashing is more suited for Tumblr.
Until later,
- Justyne
I'm bringing my dorky fangirly-ness into this blog.
Tonight was the season premiere of Castle, aka the greatest and one of my (if not my absolute) favourite shows ever. I got home from work just in time to see it, and let me tell you, I went nuts.
I sometimes forget, over a summer or other extended hiatus, how much I love my television shows. This premiere literally had me squealing. Squealing, guys. (Okay, so that's not really new for me ever, but still. SQUEALING.) I could spend all night going on about the show; about how perfect it is, all of my favourite, itty-bitty little parts, and how excited I am for next week.
Without going into much detail, though, I will tell you this: it surprised me. Whatever I was expecting from the premiere, whatever spoilers I had read and whatever theories I had invented, were all tossed away, right from the beginning. I don't think I've ever been so surprised by an episode of anything ever before.
I think I'll end this here, before I start keysmashing. Keysmashing is more suited for Tumblr.
Until later,
- Justyne
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Video Games (WFMAD Day 21)
As you may have already noticed, I am a huge nerd. (Or a geek. I've never been too sure on the difference, to be completely honest.) Part of my qualifications for being a nerd (/geek) is that I love video games.
I've never really been a hardcore gamer, per say. I never played first-person shooters like Halo or Call of Duty or God knows what else is out there. I never played online multiplayer games, or really any of the more popular video games. Most--if not all--of the games I got into playing were from the Nintendo franchise.
I love Nintendo. Legend of Zelda, Pokemon, Mario...I grew up with these games, and playing any other system--like PlayStation or XBox--just feels weird. I had a PSP at one point--it lasted for all about two seconds because I quickly discovered that I couldn't play my favourite games.
My favourite video game series, I would say, is the Legend of Zelda series. (Okay, so maybe it's also tied with Sims, but I digress.) I have been in love with these games for years; ever since I used to play A Link to the Past on our Super Nintendo.
Ocarina of Time is especially a favourite of mine. Not only is its story one of my personal favourites, but it's also the first Zelda game I actually completed, entirely (okay, almost entirely) by myself; so it has a special place in my heart.
My favourite thing about video games is the way they tell their stories. They don't just tell you what's happening; you experience it. You're the one who rescues the princess, defeats the bad guy, saves the world. It's not just a story anymore; it's your story.
Until later,
- Justyne
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Getting Lost (WFMAD Day 20)
"Life is a journey, not a destination."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
1. She will be the one driving
2. I will be riding shotgun
3. We will probably get lost
And that is where we found ourselves tonight, at 9:30, after dropping off a friend at home. Lost.
We drove into the city today, to go shopping and visit a few friends. After hours and hours of fun, we decided to run through a McDonald's drive-thru before heading home.
That was our first mistake. McDonald's.
In our defense, neither of us had ever really been to that part of the city before. Our friend directed us as to how to get back on the main--and more familiar--road before we parted ways, but that didn't really help us when we came out the drive-thru into a massive parking lot with virtually no sense of direction whatsoever.
Leave it to us to get lost in a parking lot.
Instead of panicking, though, or debating routes and looking up the directions to where we wanted to go, we started laughing. And by laughing, I mean tears-in-your-eyes, exploding-bladder-inducing, breathless-and-shaking laughing.
That is by far my favourite kind of laughter. It's the kind of laughter that lingers; that still has you giggling to yourself a good half hour later (as we were).
Moments like these are definitely embarrassing, but they make for good stories to tell.
They also give me something to blog about.
Until later,
- Justyne
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
