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Know what?
My beloved novel, known alternately as TSPB, My Baby, Aaarghwhywon'titfinish, and Perfect Imperfection gives me a roller coaster ride of emotions.
I mean, if you look back over all my posts in this journal (which I advise against, might be dangerous to your health:P) you can sort of see that it goes through periods of "I don't want to do this anymore" - "Why is this so hard?!" - "Whee, this is fun!" - "It's better than crack!" - "I don't like this part" - "ARGHSOSTUPID *smack*" - "It's better than flying!" - "WHY WON'T IT END RIGHT *weeps*" - and then I get a new "schedule" for it and go off on a fantastic writing spree, and then it starts all over again when I suddenly realize that it still just won't end right.
I seem to have trouble with endings. Either I find them completely perfect, or I agonize over them endlessly.
But at the end of the day, when I've absorbed the advice of all my wonderful friends and laughed and cried and screamed at the characters in my head, it's just been such a wonderful ten months. And I thought, maybe, some of you might be interested in how this all started.
Pyrae and I were hanging out one day last September, chatting about whatever it is we talked about back then, and it was getting dark. So we started walking to her house, because we're incapable of just ending our conversations, and I mentioned offhand, "Wouldn't it be cool if there was some kind of code to give us our jobs? Like, with letters and numbers and stuff?" And Pyrae, as she often does, rolled her eyes at me and went home.
I did, too, and when I got there I found a notebook and started scratching down ideas for this "code." The next day, I dragged Pyrae outside and informed her, in no uncertain terms, "I need twenty-six of these bloody stupid guilds and I can't think of any more, help help help!"
And she said, "Well, why are you calling them guilds?"
And I said, "Because it's a cool word? Duh? Help!"
And so My Baby was born. And I have not stopped begging Pyrae for help.
Thanks, hon.
My beloved novel, known alternately as TSPB, My Baby, Aaarghwhywon'titfinish, and Perfect Imperfection gives me a roller coaster ride of emotions.
I mean, if you look back over all my posts in this journal (which I advise against, might be dangerous to your health:P) you can sort of see that it goes through periods of "I don't want to do this anymore" - "Why is this so hard?!" - "Whee, this is fun!" - "It's better than crack!" - "I don't like this part" - "ARGHSOSTUPID *smack*" - "It's better than flying!" - "WHY WON'T IT END RIGHT *weeps*" - and then I get a new "schedule" for it and go off on a fantastic writing spree, and then it starts all over again when I suddenly realize that it still just won't end right.
I seem to have trouble with endings. Either I find them completely perfect, or I agonize over them endlessly.
But at the end of the day, when I've absorbed the advice of all my wonderful friends and laughed and cried and screamed at the characters in my head, it's just been such a wonderful ten months. And I thought, maybe, some of you might be interested in how this all started.
Pyrae and I were hanging out one day last September, chatting about whatever it is we talked about back then, and it was getting dark. So we started walking to her house, because we're incapable of just ending our conversations, and I mentioned offhand, "Wouldn't it be cool if there was some kind of code to give us our jobs? Like, with letters and numbers and stuff?" And Pyrae, as she often does, rolled her eyes at me and went home.
I did, too, and when I got there I found a notebook and started scratching down ideas for this "code." The next day, I dragged Pyrae outside and informed her, in no uncertain terms, "I need twenty-six of these bloody stupid guilds and I can't think of any more, help help help!"
And she said, "Well, why are you calling them guilds?"
And I said, "Because it's a cool word? Duh? Help!"
And so My Baby was born. And I have not stopped begging Pyrae for help.
Thanks, hon.
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There. My style!
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