Saturday, 16 May 2009

The worst moment of my life

It was a stupid argument. I wound up my little sister (13, she's not that little) when she was tired, and as often happens, she let herself get wound up and whacked me around the head, then stormed into the kitchen.

Lets be honest, that's normal morning fare for me and my sister. She's usually over it by the time I get home. But today, I'm assuming my Dad was pretty tired too. So he had a bit of a shout. And that's okay, you can tell he's just on a rare little ego trip, but he hardly ever shouts so when he does its a bit...shocking, I guess. Even I cry when my Dad gets angry with me, because it means you've actually done something wrong.

And I'm sitting here on the floor in the hall, packing my bag with tears streaming down my face, hearing these heart-rending sobs from my sister in the kitchen. And I'm trying to think calculator, pencil case, keys, and my Dad is standing by the door ready to go, and I'm fumbling my stuff and taking ages to pack it and all I can hear is sob, sob, sob.

And then I got up and went to school. And on the way out, even though we've argued, she remembers I've got my first GCSE today and I hear a little "good luck."
We'd all forgotten about it by the time we got home that night, and I guess that's why I love my family. It was still a shitty moment, though.

It was okay. In the end.

Friday, 15 May 2009


I have created,
he said,
I've created a story,
I met a man and I made it so.

I set it on the plains and let it run.

Came out short, whatever.

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Pet peeves in books.

I've been having trouble reading lately. Partly because I spend my evenings memorizing bible quotes, mathematical formulae and random computing definitions. But partly because every book I've started has been awful, with my pet peeves littered about like...early morning snow, or something.
HMM, a list, Watson? I think so.

1. Bad names. A big example of this is Lord Loss (and the rest of the books, which I haven't read) by Darren Shan, where the children are called Gretel and Grubb. This guy Grubb is the main character. What a stupid name. Similarly in the doghouse are badly spelt names, or complete white trash - Krystle, Heaven, Ee-in Dooncyn Smythz...I'm looking at you.
Bizarre names, to me...they just say "LOOK AT ME, I'M DIFFERENT." Try to be...more subtle. Make the character different instead of the name, I don't know.

2. American writers (or English ones, for that matter,) who write posh English characters in historical fiction...really badly. The book I'm reading at the moment, idk what it's called, is a victim of this. It's all "I sore missed my veritable father Hubert, i felt decades had passed since we'd sat in Picadilly together." Read some books written around the time, PLEASE. NO-ONE SOUNDS LIKE THAT.

3. People who write books I could write. I mean, I like to write. I credit myself that, at my best, I'm not a terrible writer, although my commitment leaves alot to be desired. But when I see books that are like my (unedited for readability, structure, pace, sentences that sound like a 5 year old composed them) first drafts, and I'm like really? You thought that was finished? I may be something of a perfectionist, but that's by the by.

4. MARY FUCKING SUES. And I don't mean textbook M-S...just Mary Sue elements in a book. Anything that suggests a character is modelled after the author. So...a character who likes to write. A character that name drops a single band when "listening to music" would do. A character who reads specifically Jane Austen. A character who always puts on her left sock first, and notes it down. Somewhere this definately comes into play is Twilight...Bella likes certain bands that Meyer likes, and in an interview Bella is described as, to paraphrase...slender but not athletic, with the lower lip slightly fuller than the upper, of average height, brown hair...she also moves to a new school and recieves a lot of interest, despite her percieved normalness, something Meyer has actually
said happened to her:
"Then I went to college in Provo, Utah. Let me tell you, my stock went
through the roof. See, beauty is a lot more subjective than you might think. In Scottsdale, surrounded by barbies, I was about a five. In Provo, surrounded by normal people, I was more like an eight. I had dates every weekend with lots of really pretty and intelligent boys (some of whose names end up in my books)"
"In my head, Bella is very fair-skinned, with long, straight, dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her face is heart-shaped—a wide forehead with a widow's peak, large, wide-spaced eyes, prominent cheekbones, and then a thin nose and a narrow jaw with a pointed chin. Her lips are a little out of proportion, a bit too full for her jaw line. "
The lips get me.

Maybe I've elaborated too far on that point, but you get what I'm saying. Just try being a leeeetle but more imaginative and making up a new character instead.

5. Uber description of every tiny detail in a scene. Just an overview, and a little bit of detail for atmosphere if you MUST. Look, I get bored easily, okay? Tailor yourself to your low IQ, easily distracted, ADHD suffering audience and WRITE SNAPPY. Please? it wasn't a long list. But you get the point, right? How do really bad books get published and WHYWHYWHY must I have SO MANY peeves?

Tuesday, 12 May 2009

You know you're in exam period when...

You start having freaky stress dreams.

Last night, I accidentally got onto a ship that was already sinking. And then I couldn't get out because the pressure was too great.
AND THEN I DIED. You aren't supposed to die in dreams :(

And then a cat killed a rabbit, and I scared it off, and it started talking to me blahblah and it was scary because the cat killed the rabbit. But I think the stress dream had moved on by that point seeing as it's just gibberish :)

At any rate, here I am, one GCSE down, with the next two days off. I'm going to cram for the two modules of my Computing AS level on Friday.

But back to the dreams, maybe it's because I'm getting VERY good at controlling my emotions. As in, I can control my panic and terror and whatnot and just be calm. An outlet, if you will.