Posts tagged writing
Plan B: Become a Pirate
Because that's what you do when all else fails
The Avengers are judging me.
(Source: dana-rama, via hundredsofcharacters)
Munich, Germany
When I went to Oktoberfest a few years ago, the hottest guy with dirty blonde curls literally bumped into me and went “Entschuldigung!” (‘Excuse Me’ in German) with his hands reaching out to me cause the knock was hard enough to throw off my balance.
It was like the movies, our eyes met (mine went wide cause he was so hot), his eyes sparkled, his mouth opened and he was going to say something else.
And then his dumbass friend grabbed his arm, yelled something in German, and pulled him away. Before he got lost in the crowd he gave me an apologetic smile as if to say… If only this were another time.. another place.
(via dijetecetvrtka)
Anonymous asked: Why do you write so much?
Because kidnapping people and forcing them to act out your interesting make-believe worlds is technically illegal.
(via ilovereadingandwriting)
Locard’s Exchange Principle
States that when an offender comes into contact with a location or another person an exchange of evidence occurs. As a result of this exchange, the offender both leaves something of themself behind, and takes something of that person or place away with them when they leave.
Market is almost upon us!
Yep, time for more bad scripts. If my rage overloads, I will live blog it. Oh who are we kidding, I’m totally gonna rage and live blog.
Had a breakfast meeting with my boss. Good news he tells me! He’s thrilled with my work! And it’s gonna be a busy market! And if things keep going well, he’ll want me to read more! As in on a weekly basis! Great news, right!? I was just like “Yay. o_o”
Bad scripts.
Every.
Week.
If you are in difficulties with a book, try the element of surprise: attack it at an hour when it isn’t expecting it.
You write your first draft with your heart, and you rewrite with your head.
It is harrowing for me to try to teach 20-year-old students, who earnestly want to improve their writing. The best I can think to tell them is: Quit smoking, and observe posted speed limits. This will improve your odds of getting old enough to be wise.
I’ve been told that there’s interest in me writing about my personal experience on a sensitive subject. I don’t know how I feel about this.
On the one hand, I could help so many people. There is great demand for this and my level of knowledge and first hand experience is something that is so rare that it would really benefit the field.
On the other hand, it’d be exposing me and everyone involved. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
Some of my closest friends don’t even know the truth and consequences of what happened.
Everyone thinks they know. But it’s not something you’d be able to guess even in your wildest dreams. It’s not your traditional sob story.
It’s rare enough that us few special snowflakes feel like no one else could possibly understand because they don’t know. How could they. You can’t even imagine something like it. Why would you want to.
So should I? Should I come forward and let those others know that I know? That they aren’t alone? That we exist.
Or is it that I’m just scared that if I speak up, there’ll be no one there and I really will be the only one.
Publishing a book is like stuffing a note into a bottle and hurling it into the sea. Some bottles drown, some come safe to land, where the notes are read and then possibly cherished, or else misinterpreted, or else understood all too well by those who hate the message. You never know who your readers might be.
