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So, I, ah, wrote a story yesterday and today. It's not 50,000 words, though, so I guess I can't call it my NaNo story, unless I want to keep writing new parts to it. We'll see.
I did watch the last to episodes of "Life On Mars" and I have to say, it didn't end the way I expected it to. ( If you haven't watched the series, don't click this cause I'll spoil you )
Somehow I got on a little mini-Inuyasha kick - I think because the story I wrote was set in the late nineties-early millennium, so I was trying to think of what kind of stuff was on my mind around then. Well, there was Inuyasha, wasn't there? Before it was a TV show, it was a picture book, being scanlated and transcribed over the internet. Believe me, I've had my head in Inuyasha from the very beginning. I remember when the TV show first aired in Japan how I was so excited to watch a download that I had trouble restraining myself from just watching it unsubbed since I didn't want to wait any longer than I had to. Um, I speak no Japanese. From watching anime I've learned such words as "wait" and "may I?" and "stupid" and "school" and oh, brother and sister and mother and father and cat and dog and (obviously, from Inuyasha) demon and wind scar and stuff, and (obviously, from FMA) alchemy and equivalent trade. But that doesn't count, and it does no good when trying to watch a TV show anyway.
( I continue to ramble about anime for a bit... )
I also had this idea that I'd try to find this Inuyasha fanfic I read a few years ago on ff.net. I remembered finding it kind of immature (not a surprise in that fandom) but oddly compelling, well paced, and unfinished. Maybe, just maybe, the author had actually finished the fic? And maybe I could actually track it down again? Well, I found it. I found it by searching ff.net for M rated stories greater than 40,000 words, because those were the specifications I remembered searching before. And there it was. On page four, or something. Clear description - that was definitely the fic.
( And here I go on about fanfic and fandom )
When I write stuff I get really involved in it. I kind of pour out everything I've got. All my experiences. All my knowledge. All my dreams and desires and so on. Of course it's all fiction - of course I'm not writing my autobiography or something. To a stranger, it would just be a story, and that's fine. But I hesitate to show anything I write to anyone I know in real life, because I feel like it gives them a view a little deeper into who I am than I'd like them to have. It's like I'm afraid of anyone making any connections between a story and my real emotions/experiences/opinions. I wouldn't let people I know read my diary, if I kept one. And that's kind of the same way I feel about stories. It's just too personal.
Today has been a weird day. It's been a weird couple of days. No, it's been a weird week. Well, really, it's been a weird month.
Or maybe it's just been a weird day. Maybe I've had so much time to myself and absolutely no contact with anyone else (except Erica yesterday morning) that it's given me this odd perspective of myself and my life. But after I dragged myself out of Inuyasha-world, I kind of looked through my journal and was like, WHAT? Really, I went on a blind date? Really, I went to a wedding as someone's date? Really, I just put all that personal stuff ON THE INTERNET? Really, the Phillies won the world series? Really, Barack Obama is going to be the new president? Really, I got all cranky because I couldn't vote? Really? Really I'm stuck in the house doing nothing because I fell and my knees are swollen? Really?
Yes, apparently. Yes really.
I did watch the last to episodes of "Life On Mars" and I have to say, it didn't end the way I expected it to. ( If you haven't watched the series, don't click this cause I'll spoil you )
Somehow I got on a little mini-Inuyasha kick - I think because the story I wrote was set in the late nineties-early millennium, so I was trying to think of what kind of stuff was on my mind around then. Well, there was Inuyasha, wasn't there? Before it was a TV show, it was a picture book, being scanlated and transcribed over the internet. Believe me, I've had my head in Inuyasha from the very beginning. I remember when the TV show first aired in Japan how I was so excited to watch a download that I had trouble restraining myself from just watching it unsubbed since I didn't want to wait any longer than I had to. Um, I speak no Japanese. From watching anime I've learned such words as "wait" and "may I?" and "stupid" and "school" and oh, brother and sister and mother and father and cat and dog and (obviously, from Inuyasha) demon and wind scar and stuff, and (obviously, from FMA) alchemy and equivalent trade. But that doesn't count, and it does no good when trying to watch a TV show anyway.
( I continue to ramble about anime for a bit... )
I also had this idea that I'd try to find this Inuyasha fanfic I read a few years ago on ff.net. I remembered finding it kind of immature (not a surprise in that fandom) but oddly compelling, well paced, and unfinished. Maybe, just maybe, the author had actually finished the fic? And maybe I could actually track it down again? Well, I found it. I found it by searching ff.net for M rated stories greater than 40,000 words, because those were the specifications I remembered searching before. And there it was. On page four, or something. Clear description - that was definitely the fic.
( And here I go on about fanfic and fandom )
When I write stuff I get really involved in it. I kind of pour out everything I've got. All my experiences. All my knowledge. All my dreams and desires and so on. Of course it's all fiction - of course I'm not writing my autobiography or something. To a stranger, it would just be a story, and that's fine. But I hesitate to show anything I write to anyone I know in real life, because I feel like it gives them a view a little deeper into who I am than I'd like them to have. It's like I'm afraid of anyone making any connections between a story and my real emotions/experiences/opinions. I wouldn't let people I know read my diary, if I kept one. And that's kind of the same way I feel about stories. It's just too personal.
Today has been a weird day. It's been a weird couple of days. No, it's been a weird week. Well, really, it's been a weird month.
Or maybe it's just been a weird day. Maybe I've had so much time to myself and absolutely no contact with anyone else (except Erica yesterday morning) that it's given me this odd perspective of myself and my life. But after I dragged myself out of Inuyasha-world, I kind of looked through my journal and was like, WHAT? Really, I went on a blind date? Really, I went to a wedding as someone's date? Really, I just put all that personal stuff ON THE INTERNET? Really, the Phillies won the world series? Really, Barack Obama is going to be the new president? Really, I got all cranky because I couldn't vote? Really? Really I'm stuck in the house doing nothing because I fell and my knees are swollen? Really?
Yes, apparently. Yes really.
