But really, i've always wanted to do like a vblog or youtube channel or something like that but i never managed to get motivated to do it myself. It'd be really fun to do it with someone else tho :)
What are your plans so far in terms of theme and website used (youtube?)
D: Too late I’m afraid, I’ve already started one! I really am sorry :(
So I’ve decided to start a vlog, but I don’t want to do it alone. So I need someone to collaborate with! We’d be doing it vlogbrothers style, although probably not as regularly because I’m lazy. We could just communicate and stuff, I think it would be cool.
Obviously, I’ve decided on a name, just then. If you don’t like it then poo.
Another possible name is RamblingIneloquence, take your pick! Actually I’m open to suggestions.
If anyone’s interested, just hit me up in my inbox, or go to the link in Your Pants.
I’m in one of those moods where I think I could take any set of words that’s thrown at me. I don’t feel confident in myself, but I just feel that I am confident that the world keeps turning no matter what problems I have, that billions of people have lived before me and billions will live after me, that I may not ever be rich or successful, but I’ll at least know there’s an end to all the shit. That nothing is permanent. (Not even tattoos, and don’t get technical on me. Everything decays, blah blah blah.)
I keep watching Youtube and finding myself thinking, “Hey, I could make a vlog too!” I then realise I have neither the confidence, nor the charisma nor the speech speed.
The idea still appeals to me though.
The main thing blocking me is that my dad can always hear me, and I worry that he’d walk into my room halfway through making a video, after which I would have to explain that I was talking to a camera so people from anywhere in the world could watch me speak about things that aren’t particularly consequential.
At the same time, the idea of making a “Thoughts from Places” video instead of just writing it all down excites me, although I get the sinking feeling that I would not measure up to the vlogbrothers, but then again, who can?
I suppose I’m just always looking for new ways to express myself, and that’s a thing I like about myself. Whether people want to hear it or not, I can get my thoughts down on a page or a screen better than some others, and I’m proud of that fact.
In other news, I’ve reworked a few scenes in my novel to make them *~*better*~*, which I am happy with, and I’ve written about 750 original words today while reworking about another 1000, and anyone that writes will know that’s a fair bit, at least by my standards.
I think I’ll start writing my posts in letter form. I like that idea.
Twilight. I’m bored of hating it. Now I just hate the writing style and fandom, but oh look there I go being negative again.
Coca-Cola. Oh you heartless multinational corporation you!
Bodily functions. They happen.
My internet download speed. I like that you ignore my desperate pleas that you download Doctor Who in less and 28 hours. You chug along at your own pathetic 0.4kb/s. I think it might just be the torrent, so you’re again.
Porn. Eh, refer to first point. Just don’t make it the only thing you have.
Myself. I’m not really going anywhere, I’m a quitter, I’m weak, but that’s okay because I’m me and I can work on those things.
i’m alright in the worst sense possible, that i’m okay and i’m fine and any other definition that doesn’t seem to rub off as i’m actually unhappy and upset and all i really need is a swaddle of blankets, a porch, a sunset and a field to make me all better.
now that it’s been going on for long enough i’ve grown a little older and maybe a little more jaded, but since we don’t get any wiser my mistakes are nothing but and these things i thought i was i wasn’t.
it’s nice to have dreams and ambitions that you never reach so you can remind yourself that hey, even if you did get there, remember, you’re not better than anyone else.
you might be able to regurgitate words that aren’t your own, but i just want to be a good person with feelings that aren’t anyone else’s.
Hey, whatever happened to your first novella? The one for the contest? :)
Oh, I finished the first couple of drafts, and I don’t need to submit it until September(?), so that’s shelved for now. I’m kind of procrastinating on redrafting/rewriting it, because it still needs a bit of work. I will come back to that :)
freefallromance asked: Word count/novel progress? Well, the word count is 3,466. But at the moment I’m going back to planning to improve the overall plot. I’m very indecisive. digitalreaper asked:So what sort of novel are you writing? It’s a fantasy novel set in a land called Coranim. More info can be found here. It’s a tumblr I’ve set up to keep track of my progress.
“But above all let there be pleasure. Let there be textural delight, let there be silken words and flinty words and sodden speeches and soaking speeches and crackling utterance and utterance that quivers and wobbles like rennet. Let there be rapid firecracker phrases and language that oozes like a lake of lava. Words are your birthright. Unlike music, painting, dance and raffia work, you don’t have to be taught any part of language or buy any equipment to use it, all the power of it was in you from the moment the head of daddy’s little wiggler fused with the wall of mummy’s little bubble. So if you’ve got it, use it. Don’t be afraid of it, don’t believe it belongs to anyone else, don’t let anyone bully you into believing that there are rules and secrets of grammar and verbal deployment that you are not privy to. Don’t be humiliated by dinosaurs into thinking yourself inferior because you can’t spell broccoli or moccasins. Just let the words fly from your lips and your pen. Give them rhythm and depth and height and silliness. Give them filth and form and noble stupidity. Words are free and all words, light and frothy, firm and sculpted as they may be, bear the history of their passage from lip to lip over thousands of years. How they feel to us now tells us whole stories of our ancestors.”—
Whenever I’m scrolling through my dash, I start to panic and get anxious if it goes on to long, because I worry I’ll be stuck on Tumblr forever.
Reading the stories I wrote when I was 11 actually gives me a lot more hope for my career than anything I produce these days.
It’s funny how sadness makes us selfish. Like, we’re one little heartbreak away from not giving a shit about what anyone else is feeling. Suddenly, Seymour we think the only thing in the world that matters is things being right again.
I wish I had a little room where I could retreat to, one that isn’t my bedroom. I imagine it would be slightly below ground level, but not a basement, and it would have all of my books on shelves around the room. I don’t want a big room. I can’t stand big rooms. In fact, I don’t know why I’m in the biggest room in the house.
I moved to the safety of my bedroom, and it’s nicer in here.
I’d still like a different room, but I suppose I’m thankful for this one.
I’ve decided to move all my novel writing talk to a seperate blog!
Here’s the first entry, entitled, This Blog Has Two Purposes:
The first is to track the progress of writing the first novel that I might actually finish. I have started many, many times.
The second is to give me more incentive of finishing said novel. I am a chronic quitter. I am trying to change that fact.
But first some general information.
I am a 17 year-old male, currently not going to school in an attempt to overcome depression and anxiety. So you could say I have a bit of free time on my hands. I like reading, writing (duh), and tea.
Some information about the novel: As part of my planning, I wrote a one-sentence summary of the story:
When shadows begin to take on lives for themselves, a bookstore worker hires a magician to seek answers.
Obviously, it is fantasy. It is set in a fantasy world called Vinli, on a continent called Coranim, in a country called Ellesque, in a city called Nescarme. I’m trying to give it as many layers as I can, in hopes of creating a really big world.
The technology is late-Victorian, with steampunk attributes. There are daemons that power industry, along with normal things like coal.
The progress: I started planning about two weeks ago, but I’ve had the world growing in my head for about 8 months. I started off with a different story a while back, but decided to go with the current one. I have written a grand total of one chapter (2,300 words), but I have 5,000 words of planning under my belt.
And that’s about it really. I’ll update whenever I make some progress or hit a roadblock. I hope you find my journey interesting.
Oh and also: This blog is called The Writing of Mud because writing a novel is messy business. I will get dirty. There will be pain. But hopefully, somewhere along the line, I’ll learn to have some fun with it!
The time I found out my teacher was a One eyed - One horned flying purple people eater.
I had decided to go to do some work. I walked through the door and saw a One eyed - One horned flying purple people eater (O.E.O.H.F.P.P.E. for short) eating a person. It saw me. I froze. Its purple eyes. Its fat stomach. Its happy face. It sickened my body.
I was standing in the attic. I put my sleeping bag down. I didn’t even like my cousin. Why does he get my bed, and I have to spend the night in the attic? We moved to this house a week ago. The moment I set eyes on it, I knew this was no ordinary house. Maybe it had something to do with the constant creaking in the ceiling. Something moved in the shadows. “Ben…” I heard a voice whisper. I spun around… but there was nothing there. A drop of blood fell onto my arm. I looked up. There was a dead girl with bite marks on her neck tied to the ceiling. I gasped. I could hear giggling all around. I screamed. I fell unconscious.
I didn’t wake up.
Teacher’s comment: Great Kieran, I love the suspense and imagery you’ve created.
The Lion was sleeping in the grass, unaware that he was being preyed on. Perfect, thought the POSSUM. The POSSUM took out his throwing knives, took aim and threw. The knife hit the lion in the rear end. “YEOW” roared the Lion. "Oh *$!%" breathed the POSSUM. He leaped out of the grass and onto the Lion’s back. He fired a tranquilizer dart into the Lion’s back. Once the Lion was down he started eating…
11 year old me: defying the laws of nature and geography through blue pen.
It was a baaaaad idea to look at the Penguin Australia submissions page.
They’re not accepting Adult fiction right now, so I look the BCYA (Books for Children and Young Adults) section, and they’re all like “blah we’re Penguin we’re the shiz.” Not really, but they don’t even send you a rejection email! They get that many submission.
So basically I can say I can forget about becoming a Penguin author. Oh well, there must be plenty of other publishers out there.
I just don’t know any of them.
I think I’ll go raid my bookshelf to look who my fantasy books are published by.
Damnit Orbit (sci-fi/fantasy publisher) don’t accept unsolicited manuscripts. So I’d need to get an agent for that one.
“Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”—Kurt Vonnegut (via theorthodoxheretic)
“Anyone desperate enough for suicide…should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow away on the boat to New Zealand and start over, do what they always wanted to do but were afraid to try.”—Richard Bach (via pleaselookaftermyghost)
“Hello Darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again, Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping, And the vision that was planted in my brain, Still remains – Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone, Narrow streets of cobblestone, ‘Neath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp, When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light, That split the night – And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw, Ten thousand people, maybe more, People talking without speaking, People hearing without listening, People writing songs that voices never shared, And no one dared – Disturb the sound of silence.”
~ Lyrics by Simon & Garfunkel
I love songs that blur the line between music and poetry.