Spilling Ink: Day 7

If you cut me at this moment, I would bleed coffee.

Seriously.

Enough with the graphic visuals though, and onwards to finish of the first week of the Spilling Ink challenge!


OH. I have to write something?

Tennyson was part of a poetic movement that grated against R. Browning's politicized ideas. Tennyson believed that poetry should be escapism. There's a name for the team he was on (ok it wasn't really a team), but I forgot it. Browning's friends, Rossetti and someone else, shared his beliefs.

Three major movements we studied in my English class were Victorianism, Romanticism, and Modernism (not in that order). Neoclassicism had a large part in a few of these, along with aestheticism.

I feel so brain dead right now.

Disclaimer: I totally didn't have internet last night, or this would have been posted sooner.

As it is, there's nothing amazing about this post other than the fact that I'm still alive. Maybe that's only interesting to me though.

I'll be back later with Spilling Ink: Day 8. Hopefully it'll be more interesting than this post.

Yes.

Spilling Ink: Day 6

OH MY GOD I CANNOT WRITE A BLOG POST TODAY!

I've tried writing about four different things now, and I can't. I can't I can't I can't.

Alright. Let's talk about sympathetic characters. My friends read the interview with Rachel last night, and one uttered, "she sounds like a bitch."

Whoops.

I personally love Rachel. I think that she's gone through a lot. Combine that with being 17 and you've got an attitude just waiting to dole out some snarky comment or another. I love snarky comments.

She's nice, though. I swear.

UGH. Is this post over yet now? No?

*taps fingers, tries to think of something worthwhile to write about*

I'm drinking green tea. I want to write a scene from book 2. I have 15 pages to write by Tuesday at 5pm. I also have a final.

I'm wearing high heels because I'm out of practice and apparently, I like to torture myself.

I watched becoming Jane last night. It was just as bad/good as the last time I saw it. I'd watch it again, but I wasn't impressed.

I also unintentionally performed at open mic night last night. Sang a song I wrote. Got stage fright. It was awesome, as usual. Also very nerve wracking.

My feet hurt.

This post is done.

Spilling Ink: Day 5

Ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere, the prosecution would like to convict and sentence the Bronte sisters to a life of anonymity. Their crime?

Existence.

Oh. And having the nerve to write books that would haunt children via schoolwork and papers for generations to come. These women are almost as bad as Shakespeare.

*audience gasp*

**

Sigh. I think I just hit the amount of crazy that enables me to write skits based on literary figures iHate. But enough of Kira's complaining, lest you think she doesn't realize how blessed she is to even get an education. Even if it is a particularly stuffy one.

I kid, I kid.

Anyways, I wanted to take day five of the Spilling Ink challenge and make a confession: I haven't read the book this challenge is based off of. I got the idea from this blog, the writer of which has clearly read the book. *shifty eyes*

The point of that particular confession is that there are apparently writing prompts at some intervals (I think), and I haven't been following them. Except yesterday. On accident. Yeah. I accidentally followed guidelines. Sort of.

Yesterday's post (on imaginary friends, if you haven't read it) coincided oddly with the prompt from day 4, which is about characters and making them real. My post was basically talking about how real characters can be sometimes.

Cool, right? Or creepy. Take your pick.

The post went on though, and it involved an "interview" to get to know your character. Just to be interesting, I figured I'd fill that out today, with a little help from Rachel (my main character from Morgantown). We're BFFs. But only I can see her.

... ok just forget I said that.

ONWARDS:

1. What is your happiest memory(ies)?
My first date with Michael. Thai restaurant. We almost got kicked out, but it was worth it.

2. What makes you laugh so hard soda shoots out of your nose?
I don't really do that. I came close once, though. Kerrie slipped in a puddle of mud and got all dirty. She almost had a heart attack. Priceless.

3. What don't you want anyone to find out about you?
None of your business.

4. What is the best part of your personality?
My endless wit and cheerful demeanor. Gets me miles ahead of the curve.

5. What shoes do you usually wear?
I don't really pay attention to shoes. I mean, does it even matter in the long run if I'm wearing sneakers or heels? Except that I can't run in heels. Or walk. Next question.

6. Name some things you are not very good at.
Walking or running in heels.

7. How would your best freind describe how you look?
As Bree would say, "If you just started caring, you'd look like a goddess." Makes me wonder what I look like normally.

8. What are you afraid of?
The man on the moon. What? Like I'm going to tell you my deepest darkest fear? No way in hell.

9. What do you think of yourself when you look in the mirror?
I don't like my shoulders. My left one, specifically.

10. What does your bedroom look like?
Lots of windows on one side. A bed. Staircase. Fireplace. There's a bookshelf, but most of the books aren't mine. Old encyclopedias and stuff. My computer, a pile of clothes, a dresser (that I don't use that much), aaaand a really tacky lamp.


**

Rachel would also like you to know that she thinks that interview was lame, and why couldn't I come up with better questions? Don't mind her. She's a bit on the moody side of 17.

I guess that wraps up Day 5 of Spilling Ink for me! Sorry if I'm not staying on topic very well.

SONG! I'm not actually sure where I found this, but it makes me happy in a sad sort of way.

Spilling Ink: Day 4 (Or, Why Imaginary Friends are the Best Ever!))

Three days and four posts later, I'm feeling like a hard core blogger. I wonder when I'll run out of stuff to write about? My life isn't terribly interesting, and yet this month has almost completely been just about me. So let's take 24 hours out and talk about the wonder that is writing.

*cricket, cricket*

Aw crap. What should I talk about?

There are so many people out there talking about writing, that I feel like I have nothing to add. Anything I could say, any tips I could share, it's all been said and done before. I mean, there are the agents like Nathan Bransford, Scott Egan, and Janet Reid. They've written time and time again on everything from queries to contests to reading (oh my!). You want an author's perspective? The big shots out there like Kiersten White and Mandy Hubbard share a lot about writing. Then there's a whole list of blogs on the left side of this screen that you can go check out for any literary topic under the sun.

Clearly, there's no shortage of advice on the internet. So what can I write about on this fine morning?

Imaginary friends.*

No, I don't mean the kind that people in padded white cells have. No, I'm not talking about your kid's creepy playmates.

I'm talking about MY creepy playmates. And yours, if you write at all. I firmly believe that characters are every writer's imaginary friends. A great writing teacher once said that 90% of writing is thinking. So, if you spend an hour writing, you're spending a LOT more time thinking about what you're writing. Dreams, daydreaming, doodling on the side of your evil english class's notes, that's all just quality time with your story.

Which just boils down to quality time with your characters... you know, your imaginary BFFs. Except that sometimes they might try to kill each other. But every friendship has its complications, right?

Ok, I'm pretty sure I sound like a crazy person now. Still, though, I have some characters that I wish I could hang out with for real (like a certain smexy Ryan Reynolds look-alike. Meow, baby), but it's still cool to spend time with them while I'm working on their stories.

Am I right, or should I start packing for that white padded cell? At least I'll have good company...


***


*Note: I usually censor myself more thoroughly, but this whole spilling ink challenge is letting some of the crazy get out. Please don't hold it against me.

Spilling Ink: Day 3

I wrote this yesterday and I'm so glad I did. I've been in the library for the past twelve hours fighting desperately to write a stupid final essay for a stupid class and it's so. damn. stupid.

Yep, that's right. Eloquence has gone out of the window, peeps. Wave goodbye, because it won't be back until I get a decent ten or so hour nap. True Story. Anyways, here's the randomness that is Spilling Ink (Day 3):

**

This summer is going to Rock. It is going to rock so hard, and I cannot wait. Awesome summer commences in t-minus 6 days. I'll go to Pride fest (for the second year in a row, thank you very much), then soon I'll be off to Texas, where I'll be tempted to hire someone just to say "let the adventures begin." Yes. It's going to be epic.

But I have no plans for next summer, so let's make some, shall we? Not that I'm not grateful, but it's always good to be prepared, right?

Goals for summer 2011 (some of which are totally doable, some of them not so much):

1) Europe. It's a continent I haven't seen yet, though I've wanted to go since I was a wee child (oh god. you see why I have to go?) My grandma promised me a trip, and by that point I'll need a graduation present. A trip to Dublin or London or Greece sounds like paradise

2) Writer Conference. FOR THE WIN! Oh gosh, I've been wanting to go to one of these for a while. BEA would be ideal, and by ideal I mean crazy awesome! Backspace would be cool. I don't actually know of any others, but yeah.

3) Guatemala. This would cancel out some other stuff, but a few friends and I are thinking of doing a research grant and starting up a new school in rural Guatemala. One friend will be working there this summer, and I'm a little jealous. Doesn't that sound cool?

4) Sailing. That was technically supposed to be part of this summer, but weddings trumped my desire to be a pirate. I'd like to do that next summer. Live on the high seas, and all that jazz.

5) I kind of don't want to admit this, but I'll go ahead and do it: Harry Potter convention. Ok. There. I said it. A whole group of people obsessed with Harry Potter? Yes please. There are a ton of them, though the biggest one is Infinitus (or at least that's what I've heard). So I want to go to that.

6) Comic Con. 'Nuff Said.

7) Write. I feel like this is always a goal, but summer is always the best time to get some serious writing done. So that's a goal, I guess.

**

I know I haven't posted much about writing so far this June, but I PROMISE my next post will be all writerly... and stuff. Though it will have nothing to do with Christina Rossetti, T.S. Eliot, or Tiresias. Because I'm sick of those people. SO done with them for the next few months of my life.

Alright. Time to power through the last page of my essay. Godspeed. *runs onto battlefield*

Cue explosion.

Spilling Ink: Day 2 (Or, How much fun was Dillo Day? TOO Fun!)

Alright, here is the obligatory post on Dillo Day. For those of you who aren't NU students, let me explain:

Dillo day is an annual celebration of almost-summer. The university always intends for it to be a simple day of fun in the sun, with about four free concerts (two big names, two random bands). Vendors, free food, kites, paint, the lake. In a word, perfection. Simple, innocent, perfection.

It never turns out that way though, does it? Because we the students do our very best to turn Dillo Day into Woodstock (part 2). Alcohol, hookah, random make out sessions (and who knows what else), and inevitable nudity on someone's part (maybe I'm exaggerating a teensy bit, but still). Innocent or no, Dillo Day is NU's only reparation for the extra two or three weeks of school we have to put up with.

I've attended three of these wondrous events so far, and this year's was the best. By far. Why? Oh, there were a ton of reasons, but the main one was REGINA SPEKTOR.

Can I repeat that?

REGINA SPEKTOR CAME TO NORTHWESTERN!! YES.

Naturally, my day started off on a high point because of that. Second row, baby. Then I hung out with some of my writerly friends. Danced around a bit, got sunburn, listened to Guster, got more sunburn, watched kites in the air, got really really sunburned, and then painted my arm red, blue, pink, and green. Why? I have no idea. It seemed like a good idea at the time though. I laid on the rocks by the lake for a while, then went to my friend's house for a few drinks and more than a few laughs. We stopped at Hop Haus for dinner, watched a bit of the Hawks game (ok, they watched... I pretended to understand hockey for .5 seconds), then went back to the Dillo Day field to see Nelly.

Nelly was... not Regina Spektor. He played three songs that I knew, and people pushed me around. But that's ok, because the moon was red and there were fireworks afterwards. Fireworks make almost everything acceptable. For real.

So that's how my Dillo Day went. Pretty cool, huh? The only downside: because of the immense sunburn (don't look at me like that, I put sunblock on like twice! SPF 50!), I've been recovering for the past three days, and I'm almost out of Aloe Vera (which I slather on like it ain't no thang). But for Regina Spektor? Second Row? Totally worth it. Check the pix. Oh. And this vid (not her best music video, but one of my favorite songs):

Spilling Ink: Day 1

So as I'm sure you know, I suck at keeping up with this blog. I've tried. Dear god, I've tried. I have about 5 drafts on topics ranging from byronic heroes to the perfect summer, but none of them made it to the actual blog. Obviously.

I just came across this post on Twitter, a challenge, if you will, to write a blog post every single day of June. Spilling ink. Maybe good things will come from it, but at the very least you'll be entertained. I hope.

So here goes, 30 straight days of bloggage. It'll definitely be an eventful 30 days. I need to write three papers, take a final, pack up my stuff, finalize apartment papers, fix the financial aid mess, move some of my stuff into my apartment for next year, drive to Milwaukee, dejunk everything, pack for Texas, shop for Puerto Rico and Florida, exercise, GO to Texas, and collapse. Not in that order.

Good god. I had no idea I had so damn much to do. That's not even counting my number one goal at all times: Make writing progress. Oy.

Today is the last meeting for No Strangers to Fiction, my writing group here on campus. It's just a party, but it's my last day as "president." I put that in quotes because it's always a group effort. But still. My friend Liz and I created it, and so many great things happened as a result. I'm going to miss being "president," and don't even get me started on how much I'm going to miss it when I graduate next year.

I'll post eventually on Dillo Day, but let me just say how painful and awesome it was! Awesome dominated the majority of the day, and painful kicked in the next morning when I realized how ineffective SPF 50 can get. But more on that later.

For now, I've got to work on Epic Paper Number 1, due Thursday. The Wasteland.

See you tomorrow, I guess.