Watching: Nothing in particular a lot of anime perhaps
Reading: The complete works of Edger Allen Poe <3
Listening to: the clack of my computer keys and the soft hum of the computer. Awesomeness in a small technological marvel!
I have no clue what is going on with me. I want to write... Gods know I want to write something fierce. The problem is that... I am impotent with my words right now. I write and write and write and it is all crap so I am forever hitting the backspace button or ctrl+a delete.
I have no clue how the hell I am going to achieve my goal if I can't even manage to make myself sit in front of the computer for at least an hour everyday and write something. I know that I have to learn to stop being so hard on myself. I know that no one has ever turned out a finished product in one shot. But my gods how I have set that goal for myself without even being aware that I did it. I amaze myself with my utter insanity from time to time.
I know that I shouldn't be this hard on myself about something so petty. OK so most humans don't actually follow through with their new years resolution but it bothers the hell out of me that i am almost half way through the third month in the year and I haven't made any progress.
I know that there are some things that are getting in the way of what I would like to do, thing like having a life and a full time job. I know that I just wrapped up a weeks worth of classes that I had to teach and now I am getting ready to teach another two weeks. I know that i just moved in with my boyfriend and that we are planning a wedding (even if it's not going to happen till next summer), I know that I am a little lazy, I know that I am sick, I know that I have things that i should be doing but at this point in time I am unable to do so because the military is slowly sucking my soul out through the worlds smallest straw and it is painful. I know a lot of things and yet I know nothing. are these all excuses as to why I haven't been writing like I use to. Am I really just trying to justify my 'word impotence' or am I finally understanding that I can't keep up with writing like I have always dreamed I would.
I know I haven't failed yet, but I know that I am likely to. at the same time I shouldn't be thinking like that even if I can't help it. I don't know if I am just waiting for the right inspiration of if my muse has gone completely AWOL because I have overworked it for the past few years. All I can really do is just try. I know this and it still bothers me because I am not use to being that girl anymore. I am not use to being the one that sits and waits for life to say 'get off your lazy bum and so something.' I am not use to being that person that I was when i was growing up. I am use to setting goals, being stressed juggling a million and one different tasks all with time lines and still getting everything I need to get done, done. I am going to sign up for a few writing contests. Perhaps that will help my writers block.... if that is indeed what is wrong with me!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Not much but it was something
Watching: Gilmore Girls
Reading: A lot of NBC study guides
Listening to: D-Technolife
Last night once i managed to pull myself free from the internet i found that i am in the midst of what has to be a really bad case of writers block. I just watched a blank page fill up with nothing. Hardly any words came out my fingers like i had hoped.
Although i did manage a whole 600+ before i noticed that it was close to one in the morning and i had to be up in three hours to get ready for work. *sigh* I think that one of these days, a weekend for sure, i will have to just force myself to sit at my computer for a full 24 hours. I think that perhaps if i can manage some really bad words to pour out from my fingers in that time i may end up clearing my mind enough that i can actually write something decent. Who knows T_T
Reading: A lot of NBC study guides
Listening to: D-Technolife
Last night once i managed to pull myself free from the internet i found that i am in the midst of what has to be a really bad case of writers block. I just watched a blank page fill up with nothing. Hardly any words came out my fingers like i had hoped.
Although i did manage a whole 600+ before i noticed that it was close to one in the morning and i had to be up in three hours to get ready for work. *sigh* I think that one of these days, a weekend for sure, i will have to just force myself to sit at my computer for a full 24 hours. I think that perhaps if i can manage some really bad words to pour out from my fingers in that time i may end up clearing my mind enough that i can actually write something decent. Who knows T_T
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
not a lot to report
Although i may have set some rather lofty goals for myself this year i must admit that i haven't really been trying to hard to do this. The reason... lack of motivation and sleep. Yes that is right i have been to sleepy to write or edit, and to lazy to do much else then go through the day like a lifeless zombie and go to the gym. (even that has been lacking T_T)
I really don't know what i am going to do. I need to kick it into the next gear, light a fire under my butt, do something other than sit here and do nothing. And although, i tell myself all of this... i just cannot seem to make it happen. What is going on with me. I was all ready to edit tonight and then bam my fingers found the keyboard and i checked my e-mail, talked with some friends, and even priced cars with a friend. Everything and anything other than write.
I think that part of it has to do with the fact that i am not so into the book that i had written. Although, people who have read it said that they liked it i am just not satisfied enough with it. I fear that this may be my subconscious mind playing tricks on me. (and i don't mean the cereal either)
OK so i know that if i am not happy with the story that i wrote that i can always write another. and that damn well may be what i need to do... so i am off to brave the long lost word processing program known as Microsoft Word and perhaps turn out something... anything. It will (sadly) be my first words of 2009 (6 days late)
I really don't know what i am going to do. I need to kick it into the next gear, light a fire under my butt, do something other than sit here and do nothing. And although, i tell myself all of this... i just cannot seem to make it happen. What is going on with me. I was all ready to edit tonight and then bam my fingers found the keyboard and i checked my e-mail, talked with some friends, and even priced cars with a friend. Everything and anything other than write.
I think that part of it has to do with the fact that i am not so into the book that i had written. Although, people who have read it said that they liked it i am just not satisfied enough with it. I fear that this may be my subconscious mind playing tricks on me. (and i don't mean the cereal either)
OK so i know that if i am not happy with the story that i wrote that i can always write another. and that damn well may be what i need to do... so i am off to brave the long lost word processing program known as Microsoft Word and perhaps turn out something... anything. It will (sadly) be my first words of 2009 (6 days late)
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Happy New Year and all that Jazz
Watching: Deuce Bigalow European Gigolo
Reading: The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon
Listening to: MUCC
Happy New Year everyone. I hope that 2009 is as great a year for all of you as i am hoping it will be for me.
For those of you who don't know me my name is Ashley-Lane (or at least that is the name that i will be using when i write.) It has been a dream of mine since i was young and my mother inspired me to start writing, to become a published writer. This year my new years resolution is to become a published author. If i cannot mare that a reality this year than i want to be at least one step closer to that dream.
This blog will be a written account of sorts that will be my journey (hopefully) into the world of published writing. Now it would be inaccurate to say that i have never been published before. I have written a few poems that have been submitted into various contests two of them were published in a collection book. Although as many people know the poems when published into a book tend to be sold to those who won or participated in the contest. But i still look at it as being published. (kinda)
Although i have been known to write a few poems here and there it is not really what my passion is. I love to write fiction novels more than anything. The reason that i leave it with fiction and not break it down into genera is because i do a lot of hopping around. I have written fantasy, young adult, romance, and mystery but i cannot really find just one that suites me. Although i know that i will have to actually settle down with one eventually.
As for what i am doing now. i am working on the edits to a book that i wrote in November's National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo (www.nanowrimo.org). The process is slow and i feel that someone above hates me at the moment because I can't seem to get through a week without suffering some kind of computer disaster that threatens to take my book along with it.
As for now here is a small piece of what i have written.
Reading: The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon
Listening to: MUCC
Happy New Year everyone. I hope that 2009 is as great a year for all of you as i am hoping it will be for me.
For those of you who don't know me my name is Ashley-Lane (or at least that is the name that i will be using when i write.) It has been a dream of mine since i was young and my mother inspired me to start writing, to become a published writer. This year my new years resolution is to become a published author. If i cannot mare that a reality this year than i want to be at least one step closer to that dream.
This blog will be a written account of sorts that will be my journey (hopefully) into the world of published writing. Now it would be inaccurate to say that i have never been published before. I have written a few poems that have been submitted into various contests two of them were published in a collection book. Although as many people know the poems when published into a book tend to be sold to those who won or participated in the contest. But i still look at it as being published. (kinda)
Although i have been known to write a few poems here and there it is not really what my passion is. I love to write fiction novels more than anything. The reason that i leave it with fiction and not break it down into genera is because i do a lot of hopping around. I have written fantasy, young adult, romance, and mystery but i cannot really find just one that suites me. Although i know that i will have to actually settle down with one eventually.
As for what i am doing now. i am working on the edits to a book that i wrote in November's National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo (www.nanowrimo.org). The process is slow and i feel that someone above hates me at the moment because I can't seem to get through a week without suffering some kind of computer disaster that threatens to take my book along with it.
As for now here is a small piece of what i have written.
Night, there is no other time of day that is as unique as it. Darkness is the hidden key to the shackles that bind the world in society’s prison during the waking hours. It cast its looming shadows over the masks that people voluntarily wear in the light of day that keeps the inhibitions, that are only natural, hidden from prying eyes. But when the night time falls those masks that humanity forces themselves to wear crumble to the ground, like sand falls through an hour glass, unlocking our true natures and allowing us to run free in the playground of sin.
Ah yes, night, it was defiantly his favorite time of day.
His senses have always been heightened to an unnatural level at night, at the excitement the obscure darkness promised him. The soft yet cold breezes of the fall caressed his exposed skin causing small hairs to rise up and reach out to the gentle caresses that it provided with its wispy hands.
He breathed in deeply as the smell of a cold fall night floated around him. He knew that the beauty of it all would pass in time, as was the course of nature, as was the course of human life. Fall after all was the struggle of life trying against all odds to remain living as the life was slowly strangled out of it.
Fall reminded him of his life, the life of those he knew, even those that he only knew for brief moments before his work was accomplished and he moved on to bigger and better things. Fall was his favorite season. There was something about the way that everything struggled to remain alive, against all odds, only to fail miserable and die in the cold winter snows.
A strong gust of wind picks up blowing around him, ruffling his midnight locks in a manner similar to the way his mentor use to. It caused him to think that perhaps in these quiet and privet moments that Keiji was still with him.
He knew that thoughts like these were absurd, absolutely ludicrous, and could lead to his down fall in the end. After all such thoughts were signs of a weak, penetrable heart. To posses something like that would mean certain death in the end.
His mentor, Keiji, was dead. This was something he knew well, something that he wouldn’t ever be able to forget even if he wanted to. He was after all the one that killed him, the one that held him, the one that heard his dying wish. ‘Become better than I ever was.’
He tried his best to do just that, to become better than Keiji in all aspects. He began to live by the motto ‘kill or be killed’; after all we do live in a world that only thrives because the weak are killed by the stronger. Those that adapt easily are the ones that will live and if you couldn’t adapt then you would be killed. It’s a simple, primal, oh so natural way to think. And because of that, he chose to live the way that he did.
He wouldn’t blame anyone for living in fear, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t hold it against anyone for living behind society’s mask in the light of day. After all, he too wore one, he plays the part of the hard worker bee, slaving away at a job that he hates for small amounts of money. Everyone wore that mask. He was just one of the few that chose to wear it.
He knew that it was safer to wear the mask when around people. Not for his sake but for the sake of others around him. However, night was a different story for him. Night was his time to play. He was one of the few chosen ones, those that lived without the fear of showing others what is lurking behind the mask in the day. He wishes for night, longs for it like a drug, needing to feel its freeing embrace so that he can once again kill.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
