A New Entry!!!
I’ll do a personal blog entry. It’s been a long time and I’m rather sick of metaphors.
Naturally, there are girl issues.
She has really beautiful blue eyes, insight, her wings are damaged – like Fitzgerald - but she’s beautiful, and she is not interested. I think that rather sums it up. (Loud groan from the peanut gallery: here he goes again on a lovesick rant). I did the standard Winged Pig thing (pining away, misery, poetry, blah blah blah) but I’m getting over it.
I refuse to post the poetry. I would be terminally embarrassed if it was discovered. It’s in Hungarian anyway so what would be the point?
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The condo is phenomenal. I already threw two parties – the housewarming party and a new year’s eve party – and both were successful (although the New Year’s Eve party was better).
So – METRO. It’s the novel I am currently working on. It’s a free book, meaning I write down what the characters do in each scene, frequently surprised by their actions. Unless I count the last erotic novel (which I had written in 5 weeks) nothing ever came this freely. Free and easy are not the same, unfortunately. Certain scenes are easy, the ones that turn out to be autobiographical (yes, of course I write about HER a lot, big frigging surprise, I just change her name) or the one scene that is set in Atlantic City. I know what was going to happen there, that makes it simple. It’s when I am at the end of a scene and it’s time to move on to another that I occasionally freeze. The book also has four main characters that are all connected to one another through the Train. I will have to do a lot of rewriting. I gave myself until the end of February to finish it.
I don’t write much at home anymore. I find that I get depressed when I’m alone. It’s too easy to just sit there, mope and surf the web. It’s easier if I sit in a café and do my work there. It’s a laptop activity. I have developed an ever growing degree of respect for people who were able to write longhand. The very idea that I should write on paper with a pen gives me a hand cramp. Also, I type 80 words per minute – if I had to write longhand I would tear my hair out of sheer frustration. I mean, War and Peace! That was written one ink-smudged page at a time. It wouldn’t be considered overly long now.
Naturally, there are girl issues.
She has really beautiful blue eyes, insight, her wings are damaged – like Fitzgerald - but she’s beautiful, and she is not interested. I think that rather sums it up. (Loud groan from the peanut gallery: here he goes again on a lovesick rant). I did the standard Winged Pig thing (pining away, misery, poetry, blah blah blah) but I’m getting over it.
I refuse to post the poetry. I would be terminally embarrassed if it was discovered. It’s in Hungarian anyway so what would be the point?
---
The condo is phenomenal. I already threw two parties – the housewarming party and a new year’s eve party – and both were successful (although the New Year’s Eve party was better).
So – METRO. It’s the novel I am currently working on. It’s a free book, meaning I write down what the characters do in each scene, frequently surprised by their actions. Unless I count the last erotic novel (which I had written in 5 weeks) nothing ever came this freely. Free and easy are not the same, unfortunately. Certain scenes are easy, the ones that turn out to be autobiographical (yes, of course I write about HER a lot, big frigging surprise, I just change her name) or the one scene that is set in Atlantic City. I know what was going to happen there, that makes it simple. It’s when I am at the end of a scene and it’s time to move on to another that I occasionally freeze. The book also has four main characters that are all connected to one another through the Train. I will have to do a lot of rewriting. I gave myself until the end of February to finish it.
I don’t write much at home anymore. I find that I get depressed when I’m alone. It’s too easy to just sit there, mope and surf the web. It’s easier if I sit in a café and do my work there. It’s a laptop activity. I have developed an ever growing degree of respect for people who were able to write longhand. The very idea that I should write on paper with a pen gives me a hand cramp. Also, I type 80 words per minute – if I had to write longhand I would tear my hair out of sheer frustration. I mean, War and Peace! That was written one ink-smudged page at a time. It wouldn’t be considered overly long now.
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