Week One in a nutshell

So I started off the week feeling pretty good about this story. Loved my characters, thought the plot line worked pretty well, all that jazz. The first chapter basically wrote itself, which was nice. Also had a lot of fun writing some future parts with the nightmare sequences. Those are pretty fun, too.

Then somewhere around Thursday, I got to the part where the antagonists were introduced and just wasn't feeling it. So I wrote more nightmare sequences! And then realized how action-light this story really is when I was imagining something really exciting.

And now it's turned into a completely different story (different genre and everything), but with the same characters. It'll be fun. :D

There is no way I will regret redoing the entire story at the end of the month.

Did you see the new Writer's Digest site?

It's beautiful~. So yeah, link's right over to the side. Unless you're reading this in something like Google Reader, in which case, here ya go.

So Day Two! It's going slowly. Probably cuz I'm still stuck in chapter one and because I just started writing a little while ago. Trying to work through the first few plot-related songs on the playlist. Word count-wise, I'm on track. Somewhere around 1800 right now.

/Cut scene/

Skipped to some depressing future parts. Killed a main character. Twice.

Going for three.

Day One so far

Started out a little shaky this morning, but I think that was because I was super tired and getting distracted by the internet. I was worried that the story would move pretty slowly, but after a page and a half of putting up with Mitchell and Tasia being themselves, everything's moving really quickly.

It's weird because I thought that Ace would be the main character because... well, he has all the makings. But Mitchell is actually proving to be a pretty good MC, even (especially?) if the point of his character arc is for him to stop being so passive. :D And besides, rolling with third person omniscient over here, so it's not like the other three won't get plenty of attention.

I think this thing finally has a title, too. Going with Soul Shout. Came from this song by Your Heart, specifically this set of lyrics: "If it's heartache that you want
Well we're f-f-fresh out
You can have a kiss from God
That will make your soul shout..."

So yeah! Everything's going pretty well so far. :)

Google Earth is dead useful. / Carissa loses her mind

And probably dangerous in the wrong hands.

I've been trying to find a good hometown for these kids. It's just in my head that they're from a kind of big town in the mountains. I've got it narrowed down to somewhere in Idaho. But now I feel bad because I feel like I'm creeping on all these towns and I just want to get everything right.

It's late and I should sleep.

/Cut scene/


Wow this town is like the Bible Belt, except with Mormons.

And it's PERFECT.

wait if I use this town then I can make a bunch of Pokemon shout-outs


/Cut scene/

Holy tomato it's perfecter


Ernest Hemingway and his grandkid are buried here, you guys


I found a street called Lane Avenue. ...No further comment.

/One more search/

Hey guys

Guys

I found my neighborhood and


It is ridiculous how many people have ridiculously large swimming pools, like ten people. :( Why aren't we friends, swimming pool people?


Why do I keep typing in italics?


Right. So tired.


Yeah OK I'm going to sleep now.

/LIES/

5t's

wa5t what 5s... s60eth5ng 5s screw5ng w5th the 2eyb6ard. TH5S W6N'T EVEN 0A2E SENSE T606RR6W.

oh. Finally found out what num lock does. BUT GUYS IT'S THE ANDROMEDA GALAXY!

sleep

Getting ready for camp

Camp NaNoWriMo, that is.

Most of my plotting has been music-based, and by that I mean I've been going through every single song in Windows Media Player to try to establish the general mood of the story, what the characters are like, what they're like with each other, and, y'know, all the plot points. It helps, I think.

I'm not going to share the entire playlist with you guys (28 items/ 108 minutes), but right now I'll show you the first part of songs that establish the story and the characters.

Story's Theme: Best of Me (acoustic) by The Starting Line
Tell me what you thought about when you were gone and so alone
The worst is over and you can have the best of me
We got older, but we're still young
We never grew out of this feeling that we won't give up

Ace Flynn: Everything You Ever Wanted by Hawk Nelson
I tried to be perfect, tried to be honest
Tried to be everything that you ever wanted
Tried to be stronger, tried to be smarter
Tried to be everything but you

Shea Henley: Ordinary Day by Zoegirl
Every minute feels like an hour slowly creeping by
All of this stress but I do my best to take it all in stride
I need to decide, need to unwind
All these things are on my mind
It's an ordinary day...

Tasia Henley: It's On by Superchick
It all comes down to this
You take your best shot, might miss
You take it anyway
You're gonna make your move today

Mitchell Schubert: Procrastinating by Stellar Kart
So here I am, it's 3 AM, I don't know where to begin
Time's running out and there's no doubt that I feel like throwing in
The towel with no way I can get this start finished

Ace and Mitchell: Last Train Home by FM Static
We've fallen apart somewhere back at the start
When we thought that we could fix each other by ourselves
Let's get back to the part when things weren't like they are
And we were laughing on the last train home

Shea and Tasia: Vole by Celine Dion
Vole, vole petite aile (fly, fly little wing)
Ma douce, mon hirondelle (my dear, my dove)
Va t'en loin, va t'en sereine (go far away, go serene)
Qu'ici rien ne te retienne (let nothing here hold you back)

Mitchell and Tasia: Finding Something to Do by hellogoodbye
As long as there's something to see, I'll see it with you
As long as the days can seem, we'll find something to do
If ever your love should leave, just swear you'll follow it through
And I swear I'll always follow you

Shea and Ace: Some Story by Raven Zoe
But your eyes are the saddest that I've ever seen
And whatever you're hiding shines right through the screen
And those other girls might not agree
But some story isn't worth it to me

Tasia and Ace: Hot Air Balloon by Owl City
I'll be out of my mind, and you'll be out of ideas pretty soon
So let's spend an afternoon in a cold hot air balloon
Leave your jacket behind, lean out and touch the treetops over town
I can't wait to kiss the ground wherever we touch back down

Shea and Mitchell: Fine by Lemon Demon
Light is on the way, we'll be having a fun time
It's such a lovely day, we should pocket the sunshine
And never give it back, even if there's a heatwave
We're stalling on the track, it'll just be a close shave

Normally I don't pick out songs for every single relationship, but that's kind of a big focus in this story, so that's what happened.

High school writing. Oh joy.

So in eleventh grade, my teacher advised us that we should keep everything we've written, whether it's good or bad, because when we look back on it, we'll see how far we've come as writers.

And I did keep everything. Well, a lot of it. The Harry Potter fan fiction is all gone. :P So is a lot of my emo poetry, but that's more because I didn't back it up. (Seriously, sixteen-year-old me, what was wrong with you?)

So the other day I was looking through some old notebooks from high school, and I found this.

"Have at thee, knave," growled the monstrous knight right behind Bobert. Bobert paled at the unbelievable size of his challenger, and then remembered his squirrel army and smirked.

"SQUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!" shouted Bobert, pointing at his foe, which translated as "FOOOOOOOOOOOOD!" The ravenous squirrels let out their battle cry and enveloped the poor, unsuspecting enemy.

Bobert blinked in surprise. "I thought I said "charge". Oh well, that works too."

Self. What was wrong with you. Don't you know how to structure a sentence.

...

Don't you know what question marks are, either?

It's so hot

Have you seen the heat index for the US lately?

See, I'm in that lower part of Michigan that's in the orange zone. Please keep in mind that this is the current-current heat index, which means how hot it feels at 9:30 at night. Let me just track back a few hours to, say, 4:30.

And suddenly we're in the reds.

Why am I posting this?

To remember how miserable summer can be when January hits. (Haha, most of you readers do not know how crabby I can be when it's cold out. And I've lived in Michigan my whole life.)

--

After-post edit: Did not realize those pictures would actually change. This is basically like knowing the weather all the time. Plus what it was four hours ago.

The people who just don't get it.

Can I quote myself for a second? I don't mean to sound pretentious, but it'll inform this post.

I know what I want to do with my life. I think people think I'm joking when I say, "I'm gonna work dead-end jobs and write novels my whole life," but I'm being perfectly serious. I could not care less what my day job is; I just want to write.

So after graduating, people expect me to do something with my degree. I am. I'm trying to finish a story and get it published. That's the primary directive here. But they don't ask anything about that. They specifically ask, "What kind of jobs are you applying for?"

Honest answer: The kind that are hiring and that don't take up extra hours so I can write.

And I swear, almost every time, they look at me like, Ohhh. You still haven't grown out of that. Uh, nope. Not about to "grow out of" the one thing I'm sure I'm supposed to do.

A day job is just there to be convenient and get me out of this house. And that's all there is to say on the matter.

Awesome thing of the day: "The Difference Between A Writer And Someone Who Writes"

This is a really long essay, so I'll just copy and paste the first couple paragraphs, then I strongly suggest you follow the link at the end to read the rest. :)

A writer is not just someone who writes. In her head, it’s words all day. She sees the world not as a place made up of things but of words about those things. She knows more meaning is contained in a phrase like “poison friends” than a paragraph-long attempt at comparing emotional pain to a stab wound. A writer will divine a metaphor from a pattern on a dress, or a gesture, because sunsets have been done before. A writer understands the capacity for words to embolden, to eviscerate, to cut a man in half. A writer’s words have texture and an aesthetic – they mean one thing on paper and another in your mouth. A writer knows the word “perfume” has a scent, and “savory,” a flavor. She also knows that the technical term for making you taste her words is synesthesia, but she’d rather show you than tell you.

A writer’s mind is sticky, cavernous. It is a locus of constant invention and generation, but also of deconstruction and warfare. Its very synapses fire bullets between semicolons and periods. In the infancy of the day, or as it’s expelling its final breath, an errant phrase will show up there unannounced and become lodged in some furrow. It will keep the writer up at night, until she’s built a temple, or at the very least, a sand castle, around it.

Continue-->

I'm still alive!

I'm kind of afraid to check the last time I actually posted here. But here's the long and short of it.

First it was the last few weeks of school, and that was crazy between writing the last couple episodes of Spacecano and getting ready for graduation.

This happened before the semester was actually over. Ha.

Then eleven of us went on a missions trip to Christ's Outreach for the Blind.

It's pretty scenic down South.

And I had a camera.

SO YEAH.

That's where I was.

And now I'm planning to do Camp NaNoWriMo next month. Anybody else doing it now or doing it next month as well?

Heartbeats and Heroes

(Sorry to do this two times in a row. Scraps coming tomorrow or Sunday.)

Mitchell Schubert isn't exactly a shining picture of health. Ever since he was a kid, he's had what he calls "random heartbeat attacks". The adults call it AVNRT because it's very grown-up to use a weird acronym.

Kids used to call him a beanpole in school, because that's what he looked like. Well, a redheaded beanpole. Add to the fact that he wears glasses and a medical alert bracelet, and you have yourself a recipe for bullying.

Jack doesn't really care how much Mitchell yelled about his random heartbeat attacks. Mitchell's a tiny thing, and tiny things are fun to push around and knock about behind the school. Also, he is pretty sure that Mitchell made the whole thing up to get out of gym.

Mitchell figures that Ace must be his guardian angel when he shows up.

"Hey, jerkoff!" Ace adjusts his baseball cap. Tufts of dirty blonde hair stick out from under the brim. "Leave him alone!"

Jack smirks and pushes Mitchell away. Mitchell seizes the opportunity to whip out his medicine, taking it quickly to stop the palpitations.

Jack steps towards Ace. "Or what?"

Ace clenches his fists together. "I'ma make you pay."

Jack raises an eyebrow and pushes Mitchell to the ground. Ace runs at him, right hand in the air and ready to make contact, but he freezes when Jack grabs his wrist. "Stupid move."

Ace doesn't miss a beat. He drives his left fist into Jack's nose, bloodying it. Jack staggers back, and Ace smirks. "I'm ambidextrous, nimrod."

Jack wipes some of the blood from his nose and stares at it. He doesn't seem to know how to react, so he only gives the other two an uncertain look before threatening, "I'm gonna get you guys!" and trying to swagger off. The swagger is off.

Ace snorts. Then he notices that Mitchell is sprawled out on the ground, red-faced and sweaty. "You OK?" he asks. "You don't look so good."

Mitchell guesses he doesn't. "I'm fine… j-just chillin'…" he says, hoping the other boy would just drop the topic. He bites his lip. "Why'd you do that?"

Ace falls quiet as he sits down next to Mitchell, putting a fair amount of space between them. "People who… who hit other people should know what it's like. They should have a taste of their own medicine." He tugs at the bottom of his long shirtsleeves.

Mitchell looks at him, feeling like he was missing something. "Oh. 'Kay." He holds out one of his hands. "My name's Mitchell."

Ace grins. "Ace." He takes Mitchell's hand. "You stick with me, kid. We're gonna be just fine."

–

Mitchell hasn't seen his best friend's eyes since they were fourteen years old. Ace has been doing a good job the past three and a half years hiding them behind a huge pair of aviators. He doesn't even take them off in class, which Mitchell thinks is ridiculous. On the other hand, it's impressive that the teachers let him get away with it.

And it wasn't like he hadn't tried to find out why Ace had kept the shades on for so long. The guy has an annoying talent for changing the topic every time Mitchell brings it up. So Mitchell is a little surprised when Ace brings it up himself.

"You know how I've been wearing these awesome aviators for like… forever?" Ace leans against Mitchell's piano, fiddling with the keys but not playing any distinct melody.

Mitchell raises an eyebrow. "Um, yeah."

"And you know how I'm like, always here or at work or somewhere? And how I never let you in my house for long?" The piano keys plunk in discord.

"Get to the point, man."

Plunk. Plunk-plunk. "Phht. 'K, don't freak out on me, bro." Ace takes hold of the glasses, and he slowly pulls them off. A long, thick scar traces the bottom of his left eye. It's the most noticeable thing in the world. "Yeah. It's bad, I know."

Mitchell can't help but stare. "Um… what? What happened? I don't…"

Ace just stares at him. "Think about it, Mitchell. Do I really need to spell this out for you?"

Mitchell grapples with what this could mean. Then it hits him like so many refrigerators full of horror, if that was a thing. "Oh my God. Ace. You… you mean… your parents?" He touches his own left eye.

"My dad." Ace plunks at the keys some more. "So yeah." He swallows. "That's kinda what the thing with the maps is about."

What? Wait. What. "Oh you moron. You complete dumb – ffffh." Mitchell can feel his heartbeat beginning to quicken, but it's no cause for alarm yet. "You are not running away. That's the stupidest thing you've ever thought of! And for that matter, why didn't you ever tell anyone that this – " he makes some wild motion around his eye – "was happening? You coulda gotten out of there! Why the hell would you stay? Obviously you don't give a crap about your family, so what's there to lose?"

Ace stares at him with angry grey eyes, but he is so calm. "Mitchell, calm down. You're stressing yourself out." He puts a hand on Mitchell's shoulder and forces him to sit down.

Mitchell glares at him. "I can't believe you're just going to up and disappear. This your idea of a goodbye, you jerk?"

"Dude, would you just calm down so you don't have heart failure or something?" Ace says this more snappishly than intended. "…Sorry."

Mitchell sighs and nods. "I'm calm. My heart is AO-flippin'-K." He closes his eyes tightly. "No heart failure up in here."

"Good." Ace sits down next to him. "Cuz you should come with me. Y'know. To Washington and be basically Canadian." He smiles a little when Mitchell opens one eye to see if he's serious. "I'm so serious, dude."

"Oh." Mitchell opens both eyes and stares ahead. "So we're like… road-tripping it up now like some Fellowship of the Specs, right?" He smiles and holds out his fist.

Ace pounds it. "For sure."

This is what I've been doing.*

*Well, sorta. Wrote this ages ago. Just continuing it now.

Psychology, Cartography

Ace is eighteen and still hasn’t completely grown into his own body. He’s made up for it by growing well into his mind and everybody else’s. Just because he sells fruit doesn’t make him any less of a psychologist. And just to make sure nobody else can get into his head, he keeps on a pair of aviators.

That’s his superhero name, by the way. Aviators.

He volunteers for more shifts than anybody else, and if they won’t give him any extra shifts, he’ll hang around the place anyway. It’s not like he has the best job in the world. He just works the register. It’s like being stuck on repeat.

He is so tired of being stuck on repeat.

Shea works with him on almost every shift. She cannot fathom why he is almost always there. “Are you seriously here? Again? Dontcha have a life, you loser?” Shea actually believes that honesty is the best policy. Funny how quiet she gets if anyone asks her about that eye patch, though.

Yeah, maybe there are other places that Ace could be. But being closer to work means getting more shifts, which means getting a little farther and further away from his house. And shoot, anything that gets him away from there is all right in Ace’s book.

“Don’t you ever go home, bro? It’s like you’re either here or at school or at my house. All the time.” Mitchell thinks he’s so hilarious. He has no idea how dead-on that statement is. Ace doesn’t think he’s actually seen his biological family in two solid days.

Good.

“You caught me, dude. I am totally trying to find a way to secretly move into your house without you realizing it.” Mitchell laughs. He has no idea Ace wasn’t kidding.

When he was younger, he used to fantasize about taking off in the dead of night. No warnings, no notes, no nothing – a clean break. Except if he did, then who’d end up saving Mitchell from getting shoved into lockers?

Mitchell has no idea what it’s really like at home. Ace is too proud to admit that he needs a hero, too. So he settles for finding excuses to not go back. He gets weird looks and awkward questions about it on a regular basis, but that’s fine.

Everybody will be asking a different set of questions soon enough.

Before he was twelve and needed to save his best friend’s skinny behind at every turn, he collected maps and taped them up in his room like wallpaper. Every night, he would trace the paths from his house to any number of anywhere-elses.

Canada sounds nice, but he doesn’t have a passport. He guesses Washington will do. Washington is basically Canada.

“You should be in cartography,” Mitchell says when he first sees all the maps. Then he realizes he rhymed and laughs.

Ace shrugs. “Whatcha think of Washington, bro?” He’s casual. There’s no ulterior motive behind this question, not at all.

“Dunno.” Mitchell sniffs. “It’s Washington.”

“It’s basically Canada.”

Mitchell chuckles and nods.

“You ever wanna be basically Canadian?”

“Huh?”

Then Ace realizes that his dad’s going to be home and smoothly suggests they relocate – so smoothly that it’s completely awkward. Mitchell notices, of course. He’s only ever been to Ace’s house a couple times in the seven years they’ve known each other, and both times have been brief.

When they relocate to Mitchell’s house, Ace figures it’s time to be straight with him. He pulls off the aviators. Mitchell is shocked, of course. He always thought the glasses had been worn for dramatic effect. Not to hide… that.

Yeah. It’s bad, Ace knows. “That’s kinda what the thing with the maps is about.”

It takes Mitchell a second to figure it out. Then he’s worried and angry and depressed all at one time. Ace has never heard his best friend yell like that. It’s kind of impressive, but it makes sense. Mitchell is a redhead.

When he quiets down, Ace tells him his idea. They’re eighteen, they’re out of school in two days, and they have mobility.

Mitchell’s pretty bright. And he’s pretty up for adventure. Ace guesses that’s why they’re best friends.

So two days later when Shea and Ace close down shop, Ace tries to be extra nice to her. He’s sorry about that eye patch, by the way. Shea is suspicious, but doesn’t question the change in attitude.

“See ya tomorrow, Ace.” She leaves him behind.

Ace smiles to himself. “No you won’t.”

Sunday Scraps

What do you mean this is late? It's just not on time.

This is pretty video-heavy, even for me.

1) I kind of want to read this.


2) So Friday night, my friend Kirstin gathered us to her house to watch this masterpiece:

It was so bad, it was good. Innuendo like you wouldn't expect from the 1950s. Plus it's just... yeeeeah. Half the characters have seizures at some point in the movie. XD What you have to do is get a group together and make the ever-loving fun out of it.

3) Just kinda stumbled across this website/animation called Ana Somnia. It's really interesting because every time you replay it, there's a different animation, but it's really freaky and trippy.

Hope everyone's enjoying their weekend!

Something about school.

...Wait, hold on a minute, you can put a location on these posts now?

*Fiddles with it*

Haha, yes. I am now located in Atlantis. I am now done being a child.

Anyway.

I somehow created the PERFECT STORM OF PROJECTS. Seriously. Episode 3 for Spacecano! is going to show next Thursday, so we're working on that right now. In Group Problem Solving, we have a group presentation also due next Thursday, and it has to be at least 40 minutes long. And in Piano, we have our midterm on Monday. So everybody's kind of practicing for that.

"The Perfect Storm, a small region in the Swan Nebula, 5500 light years" and that's where Google Images stopped being informative.

At least I got to coin the term "snowquake" in the process.

So yeah, it's pretty chaotic, but it's fun, too. It's nice to have all these things to do, y'know?