A snake tried to bite me today, so I took a shotgun and bit him back.
If you couldn’t tell, this post is only here to keep up my perfect attendance streak.
A snake tried to bite me today, so I took a shotgun and bit him back.
If you couldn’t tell, this post is only here to keep up my perfect attendance streak.
I haven’t always been so active in the online writing community, for the longest time my writing was something I kept to myself as a personal thing. I shared it with few and I never really discussed it besides with a close friend or two.
Since I have been more open and out there about it, Twilight has been the dominating force in the world of writing, especially when you’re talking about Young Adult Paranormal Fiction. And rightfully so, it’s reached people of many ages, reached across many different cultures and has spanned a series of blockbuster films.
Before I go any further I have to admit, I’ve never read the books. I have seen the movies though and found them to be entertaining, not heart stopping but definitely not the worst things I’ve seen.
My question has less to do with the movies, seeing as how I am talking about writing here. But why is it that every forum post, every blog, everything from writers out there is a complaint about Twilight? People devote movements to hating it, they pay money to attend the movie and mock it…
So much of the talking seems to stem from anger and jealousy over the success of Meyers. I think that some of the writers out there haven’t gotten over the fact that by and large, the industry isn’t looking for the most verbose, well written thing possible.
It’s looking for decent stories and plot that are relatable and immersive. Guess what? Writing isn’t the only form of readily available entertainment and your average reader isn’t going to spend their life in a book. You can’t get mad because people don’t want to read thousands of pages of description and what’s considered more literary. Books like Twilight aren’t the enemy, they’re apparently where the market is and whether you like it or not, as a writer you’re going to have to contend in that market.
So do yourself a favor and use the time you’re complaining with to better improve your own craft.
I took the time to sit down yesterday and take stock of all the numbers in the phone. Some of them might be people I haven’t called in years and some of them are good friends who I hear from almost daily.
It’s a tough thing to just delete someone out of your phone, it feels like deleting them out of your life. Some I’ve kept, despite their being wrong and in the case of my brother, though he’s dead I still like that his number is there in my phone. Call it foolish, but its the truth.
You can’t scroll through your phone and not dredge up some memories and sometimes even a few instances of “who is this?” here and there. I feel like the technology has really become imbedded in our lives, these experiences with face book and cell phones weren’t common twenty years ago…they were less common even ten years ago.
So I’ve plucked out the people whom I have no place for anymore. I’ve stripped away those who I can’t talk to, won’t talk to and especially those who won’t talk to me. Sometimes I wonder why I added a number when I see it, it was bound to never get dialed, many of them weren’t.
But as I do this, there’s something odd about some of the people you cut out. Maybe its that I look for a common pattern in things where there really isn’t one. Some of them shaped me so much, whether good or bad, some of them I just have no desire to talk to and I think that inside I know that it ended because I was tired of carrying us. I was tired of being the only one who could pick up a phone when they didn’t need something.
And then there’s the good. I can honestly say I don’t have any of those friends right now, all of them are there for me in some capacity. I don’t have to be the one to initiate conversation and that feels great.
I’ve been trying to gauge when its okay for me to tell people to stop without sounding kind of odd.
Everyone has had the inevitable times when a conversation got to a subject that they were less than comfortable, maybe its because of the person’s views. Like there are those I absolutely can’t talk politics or religion with because they end up calling me stupid and I don’t take well to that. The last time that it happened, it pretty much destroyed any chance of this dude and I becoming good friends because he acted as if he had every right to act that way, even after the fact because he was passionate about something.
That really has less to do with comfort zones than it does with me not wanting to get into random fights.
But what if you’re the one in the wrong? What if you’re being too sensitive and all the other person is doing is talking about whatever and you suddenly realize that its bothering you? I feel like I can’t say anything because its just not expected of me. Most anyone that knows me knows I can talk about anything and I’m always that guy who tries to leave no topic untouched.
Though what is there to do when things take that unexpected turn and you find yourself on the other side of things.
It’s easy to be the pushy one, but when you catch a glimpse from the flipside—its not all that fun being pushed or pulled.
Last night was probably the last time I will see my friend for the next four years. Things changing is probably the only thing that you can honestly count on in life. It’s funny to think of where I’ve been and what I’ve done and then look at where I am now. It’s not something I would have chosen for myself a lot of the time and other times I wouldn’t have myself be anywhere else.
Maybe that’s why I have such a hard time spurring on new changes myself. It’s hard for me to act on things because of what it might bring. I’m fearful of the ripple effect it will have on my life. Though its not as if I could ever stop change altogether.
I guess its been a sad couple of days, though not in a way I really noticed until I realized how happy I was to speak to my friend after over a year of not talking voice to voice. I needed some cheering up and she provided that. It’s always nice to hear from someone you miss.
Normalcy’s in short supply and I kind of hope things stay that way. A few things can become a constant; familiar faces, voices, friends, a place to just sit and think, but life’s kind of interesting when things are in flux.
Well I have to go nap, last night was rough and I’m a little tired. I got up early just to talk to someone and realize I’d neglected my blog. Story edits are piling up, notes on agents and people to call once this is looking more complete and job applications and offers…Today might be the last time I can get a good rest for a while. So I’m going to soak that up if I can.
I’m not sure who this image is of, I know that a friend claimed she got it off of 4chan.org but I don’t know much about it besides that. It’s just one of those examples of stuff I wish I could do in Photoshop mixed with a great picture.
Also, going to try something out with blog titles. Pattern should become apparent soon if it continues.
These are posters to set the stage for the coming Bioshock game, the game never interested me all that much, but the style of these ads is interesting.
I had planned to write today, just write on anything at all to not have to deal with the editing stress and other little things. Today I kind of feel like staying in bed, I’m just really sore and I don’t know what’s the cause of it. My neck was hurt yesterday, but that seems to have mostly passed by now.
The main thing that is going on in right now is I’m wondering how much you can want from the someone else, the world and life in general before it just becomes selfish.
Some people will claim that anything we do at all is selfish, its all just furthering our own desires and if it wasn’t, we wouldn’t do it.
I don’t agree with that. At least, I don’t think I agree with that. I know that’s not the kind of world I want to live in, where all actions are selfish and even you’re most sacrificial of acts can be boiled down to a desire to see your own goals played out.
The question kind of seems like a waste of time as there can’t ever be a definitive answer in it and any discussion further would just result in a round and round argument with now winner.
I kept my old Razar phone for some texts that were left inside of it, most of what’s special about a phone is the people who call you on it, the memories of the things they’ve said and the fun had.
These are memories in text that I want to keep. Jokes, random things people sent while drunk, and even a very special message or two.
I want to hold onto these things, is that so odd?
I read a story about this assistant to the Pope calling the U.K. a third world country. The comment was apparently followed by something a bit racist and classist (no doubt about Muslims I’m sure). The comment is funny only because it couldn’t be further from true.
Even funnier are the responses of people who I’ve seen talk mad shit about England and the U.K. jumping to their aid simply because they dislike religion. I don’t think he could have been serious. It’s still rude but it seems like an over exaggeration, they way I people will say something for effect.
Still, its a dumb comment. But its funny to watch people jump in to make other dumb comments to combat nothing.
I think this is what it boils down to.
Have you ever been blind sided? Just caught completely unaware?
It happened to me yesterday and I really don’t know what to think. First off, when something like this happens its usually a bad thing.
Good thing this wasn’t one of those times.
Been so long, I think I’d forgotten how to really function when something nice surprises me.
Oh yeah, one of my blogs is six years old—light some candles.
It’s been two years to the day since the storm and its like it never happened in most parts of the town. Its hard to believe that Katrina was further back than it and that the people in New Orleans have just not recovered to any kind of substantial degree.
Houston was better built and there was more organization here, but at the same time its also a matter of luck. Ike could have very well been worse, it could have brought more trouble but it didn’t.
Well I just wanted to make note of this day.
It’s been two years to the day since the storm and its like it never happened in most parts of the town. Its hard to believe that Katrina was further back than it and that the people in New Orleans have just not recovered to any kind of substantial degree.
Houston was better built and there was more organization here, but at the same time its also a matter of luck. Ike could have very well been worse, it could have brought more trouble but it didn’t.
Well I just wanted to make note of this day.
It’s been cooler these last few days, even rainy at some points. Being out in the sun seems to have totally drained me. Somehow I just want to wait this out in the bed, see if its passes.
There’s that looming threat of hurricanes now and at this point I think I just want summer over—bring on the cold.
Taken from here: http://adamswomanlost.xanga.com/732808035/a-confession-and-an-important-warning/?page=1&jump=1516469508&leftcmt=1#1516469508
Women of Xanga...please be warned!
Men of Xanga...please warn the women in your life!
I don't know how many of you shop at Wal-Mart, but while I was shopping there I became a victim of a clever scam.
If it happened to me, it could happen to you!!!!!
Here’s how the scam works:
Two handsome twenty-five-year-old well-built cowboy-type guys come over to your car as you are packing your shopping bags in the trunk. They’re both shirtless and they start wiping your windshield with a rag and Windex with their highly-defined chests, huge muscly arms, and rock-hard abs exposed.I'll admit it...it’s impossible not to look.
When you thank them and offer them a tip, they say “No” and ask you to give them a ride instead, to another Wal-Mart.
You agree and they get in the back seat. On the way, they start talking about what they want to do to you!Then one of them climbs over into the front seat and starts kissing your neck and begs you to pull over so he can make love to you!! Except while this is going on, the other guy steals your purse!!!
I had my purse stolen last Tuesday, Wednesday, twice on Thursday, again on Saturday, this evening, and most likely tomorrow.
Finished Anansi Boys just now, I think out of everything that I read my favorite passage has to be:
Charlie pushed his fedora back onto his head. Some hats can only be worn if you're willing to be jaunty, to set them at an angle and to walk beneath them with a spring in your stride as if you're only a step away from dancing. They demand a lot of you. This hat was one of those, and Charlie was up to it.
Gaiman has such a way with words and at the same time he’s not using overly complex language and it still paints things out vividly and in an easy to understand manner. I really liked this book, though I am not sure if its better than American Gods.
You know that saying about, “if you love something/someone, let them go”? Well it seems like there’s been a lot of that in my life and its usually ended up in loss. Many of those times its really for the better, a lot of the time we can’t see how something is because we hold it too dear or people change and become different people.
I’m praying this time is different, really, honestly praying. The thought has kept me preoccupied recently and I’ve wondered if there were things I could reflect back on and see where they went wrong. Sometimes it was just the absolute wrong person or sometimes it was the wrong thing. I don’t think either of those are the case this time.
Worrying never helped anything, but I can’t help it. So I am doing the only thing I can do when I’m worried like this, I’m praying that this is the time where that bond lasts. I know we’re not supposed fret over what we don’t have, we’re supposed to be thankful that which we do. What I do have right now is a great friend and it would be a shame to lose another person—especially this time.
Well I’m out—gone for the day and signing off in a way that I don’t think I have in about five or six years on this blog. If this is the new copy of the blog, it’s never happened here. But some of you might know it well.
—See You Space Cowboy
Me: After thinking for a moment Dee said, "One more question, do you know of a black knight with a flaming hoofed horse?"
Sebastian: "...blah Knight with a flaming what?" Sebastian had finally awoke amidst the clamor of Itolla's arrival. The Cleric looked a bit...well...out of it.
Me: Dee perked up, "We've also been given marching orders..." she said, "We've got a long fight ahead of us it seems," she said looking out across the plains. Madeleine had only been awake for a few minutes and she hadn't felt like being bothered with people just yet, especially not after the previous night. Despite it, she could hear there was some activity going on so she made her way into the common area. "You missed it Madeleine, there was..." Dee started. "An evil Black Knight?" she asked, "Yeah I saw the whole thing from my tower..." "Say, do you think the flag has some kind of magical effects? You would know better than I do Sebastian, and if it does we should probably get rid of it..." asked Dee.
Sebastian: "Sounds like a Blackguard, or a Paladin from the depths of Baator, given strength by hellfire itself--in truth, a dangerous foe. Your concern is well placed." Sebastian walked over to the flag and muttered something. It wasn't anything particularly potent, just a Detect Evil that he would center on the flag.
DM: How many rounds does Sebastian concentrate on the Detect Evil spell?
Assuming the full 3 rounds. Round 1- There is Evil around Sebastian. Round 2- There is only a single source of overwhelming evil coming from the flag. It stuns Sebastian for 6 seconds and ends his concentration. Within the party none seem to be able to recall anything about the flag. Unless someone wants to try an knowledge roll, i.e. Knowledge history, nobility or local. A horse with flaming hooves is definitely not from the mortal realm. Itolla speaks up as she hears you discussing this black knight. "I've seen hims a few times around. He's not the type to wield a sword or lance into combat. He wields a warmace or warhammer of some sort and with such power you'd think he's the size of a grey render or something. He however does love to toss powerful divine magic at his foe first or enhances his troops with magic before following up. Also he's very difficult to fight magic to magic wise. I've exchanged blows with him before, and without my globe of invulnerability, he probably would have pummeled me to death. A very difficult commander to kill. You guys look like you didn't have much sleep last night." Itolla tries changing the subject. "With this many people here, why don't you take more rest, you will need to be fresh, when trying to hit that supply line. Though my men aren't fresh either, they did have more sleep than you guys did."
Me: Dee stared at her, "Do we look that off?" she asked. She drew her hands about her as Madeleine examined the flag from a short distance. "It looks like a normal flag," Madeleine said. "Well we're sure that it wasn't a normal horse...what with the fire and all," Dee said.
Orseth: "That thing was strong," Orseth muttered to anyone listening, watching the dust swirl over the battleplains below, "Really strong. If I fought it, I'd die. But that's because it's strength is twofold. It has it's own strength, and the strength of whatever evil, Dis I think it said, is backing it up. If we could block that, I think it can be killed. Something like that, killing it would have a positive effect on the entire battlefield for us, right?"
Sebastian: Sebastian fell backwards, stunned by something emanating from the flag. "Is that pyre still burning--don't let anyone directly touch that pole." Knowledge religion; 1d20 + 6, 19+6 = 25 to identify, garner information from the flag of Dis. Generally most heraldry has something to do with religion
Orseth: "If he's a paladin or variation of, isn't that his God, Dis, then?" Orseth continued to theorize, remembering a campaign of his past, "So you block one God with another. We've certainly got enough supporters of whoever doesn't like Dis, right?"
Sebastian: "Dis--a god? Hah!" Sebastian laughed, sarcastically. He then went to his pack, and removed a shirt--something a bit like what a peasant would wear. Wrapping it around the base of the pole so he wouldn't actually be touching the thing, the Cleric squatted down and then gave a great heave, hopefully uprooting the standard (14+2 = 16). "Now...this is a blessing if ever I saw one!"
Orseth: "It's the same concept," Orseth bit back, "Actually, that makes us better off, because actual divine intervention will be even more likely to succeed. My point stands firm."
DM: On a military scale among fiends from the outer realms Sebastian would categorize Dis' rank around either a Sergeant or at best a Lieutenant first rank.He's actually on the 'bottom' ranking of their military might. The flag is just a corrupted flag, intended to influence those around them subtly with evil thoughts, until they break. [evil vs sebi's will]1d20+10=4+10 = 14 resisted Since it is an overwhelming evil, as Sebastian picks up the flag he feels a surge of thoughts running through him, yet with his discipline he resists and suppress these ideas. What is Sebastian doing with the flag? Orseth's guess is good, however he can guess that Sebastian doesn't have the necessary power neither does Lyn or Luemus. Maybe the city itself may have some means of doing it, but with the constant barrage and attacks, the high mages probably don't have the time to develop anything currently.
Me: Dee ran over, "What are you doing touching that thing again," she said, "Be careful!" Madeleine watched from back with the others as she worked with her bow still. She glanced up, "I don't think this bow's gotten this much use before," she said, "you kind of have to break them in."
Sebastian: Sebastian looked at the standard for a moment and then moved his hands farther apart, making sure to keep the shirt between his hands and the standard. He looked around and then announced in a loud voice that might, just might be heard throughout the camp "Do not let the events of this morning trouble you...this, is the power of his God." He waited for a moment, uttered a prayer under his breath (Bull's Strength, Target him) and then brought the standard down over his knee, hopefully breaking it (1d20+6, 18+6 = 24) (If it breaks) "...Now has anyone seen a midden heap?" His voice was tinged with scorn.
DM: The standard breaks on Sebastian's knee on his first attempt. A chilling air surges upward from where Sebastian stands visible to all as a fog. It disappears shortly after, it seems as if an evil spirit had left the flag.
Today I’ve decided to stage a protest against the group I dislike by burning their sacred text.
Take that Furries!
One from Chuck Bass:
The world you're looking at only exists from the outside. The only reason I survive in it is that I always knew it was empty.
One from the mean streets of Utah:
Yo cuz what French people be rapping about? standing on the corner selling hard baguettes? bicycling away from the police?