Thursday, November 25, 2010

Why the Sea is Salty

Und der Haifisch der hat Tränen
Und die laufen vom Gesicht
Doch der Haifisch lebt im Wasser
so die Tränen sieht man nicht

In der Tiefe ist es einsam
Und so manche Zähre fließt
Und so kommt es dass das Wasser
in den Meeren salzig ist

And the shark, it has tears
And they run down its face
But the shark lives in the water
so no one sees the tears

In the depths it is lonely
And so many a tear flows
And that is why the water
in the seas is salty”

-"Haifisch" by Rammstein

(translations from Herzeleid)

Also found on deviantART.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

I Feel Like the Prodigal

I got 673 words down on "Iris" today! Now, in my ProjU days, that would have been laughable, but I'll take what I can get. Even after three months, "Iris" feels like a very new project. I've been feeling ridiculously uninspired by it, writing in fits and starts. Not all the blame lies on my busier high school schedule: I haven't managed my time effectively.

You know, I just haven't been writing very much at all recently. My journal entries were always brief, but lately I've even been leaving out the descriptions of the people who annoy me. Yesterday, however, I wrote a short piece for a deviantART prompt "If Only." It's a rather emotion-based piece, which I always have trouble with, but I combined my experiences with those of a character in a still-developing story and produced this.

Ode to Someone Who Forgot Me

Sometimes, I really hate you. I see you smiling and laughing and perfectly fine, standing around with your new friends who can see you every day but can't see what you were before I lost you.

Except I haven't really lost you, have I, because technically, technically, I could just go up to you and say hello and maybe you'd say it back to me. Except, then what would we say?

"I miss you." Too forward. Some days, the days when I hate you, I think you've forgotten who I am. You forgot my last name, didn't you, that one time two years ago? I think I walked home that day in a shock. I was catatonic, and I knew that you didn't miss me.

"How has your life been since you left me behind?" I've shown more weakness to you than to almost anyone else, and though you haven't turned around and stabbed me where it hurts, you've done something that, in a way, is worse. You've taken this piece of me, rough around the edges and unpleasant to look at, and you've tucked it away without another thought.

And yes, that does hurt. How do you think pictures feel when they're taken off the wall and set aside behind some too-large cabinet to snatch the dust from the air? Nothing, that's what, because they're just pictures and they lack the blood vessels and nerves that I have. They lack the ability to feel.

Sometimes, I envy them for that.

"Did you know that I loved you?" Because I did, and sometimes I think I still do. You'll smile, even if not at me, and my breath will stop. I'm sure my heart stops too, so I turn away because I don't want to die and I don't want to see who you're smiling at instead.

"I get so insanely jealous over you." But why? You're not mine; you haven't been for at least three years – probably longer than that. I can't own you, I can't hold you down, I can't catch you so I just stop and watch you run off into the distance with what we used to be, until you couldn't hear what I have to say even if I screamed it.

I need to get over you.

Monday, November 22, 2010


I haven't worked on "Iris" since Thursday of last week. I haven't worked seriously on it since a lot longer than that.

What is wrong with me? I've actually thought about ending this story a couple of times, but I know I can write a novel since I did it with ProjU, and then I remember how a couple of times in chapter one I felt the magic of a fantasy story. But then, magic has become such an overused word. It has lost the mystery that it was so imbued with when I was a third grader and is now just cheap. It's tasteless. I can't stand looking at it.

Time for an analysis: what did ProjU have? Characters (lots of them) who interested me, pain, death, anger, power, bad things happening to good people, bad things happening to bad people.

"Iris" was supposed to be lighter than ProjU, and its setting does not lend itself to waves of characters dying off horribly. But I think that what I may do is offer a sacrificial lamb until I can figure out a way to raise the stakes in my stories without loading on the melodrama of a life.

Iris, the character, is whiny and spineless. Good thing I have Irina, but her intense "right and wrong" radar is intimidating. I may end up writing some scenes from Farrokh's point of view since I identify with him the most. Wait. Rotating perspective? Character death? Where have I seen this before?

I guess I was wrong. I thought I learned how to write a novel, but all I learned was how to write Project Utopia.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Quasiland New Style

Warning to all my characters: you may be a guinea pig for a new style of drawing.

First victim: Quasiland.
Princess Art talking to the messenger fairy Carine. There's a lot of Art in the following art because my best friend, upon whom Art is based, had her birthday recently.

She's a very kind person. See, look, here she's teaching me (Sera) how to read. Honestly, though, I think the technique on this picture is worse than on the others.

Likewise this one, though after careful consideration the cleric costume isn't as bad as I'd thought it was. At least the irl Art liked it.

Here I am again, in both my Quasiland incarnations (who hate each other). I had another sketch of Evan showing him more sympathetically, but I decided it was too srsbsns for this drawing style. The Rammstein song "Haifisch" is seriously the perfect song for him.
Finally, to make up for the ill-will of the last picture, we have Princess Art and her fiance by arranged marriage, Prince Orion (nickname Orio). This is probably the cutest of the bunch.

I suppose I have to get back to work on my Of Mice and Men essay now. I'm not stuck through lack of ideas - I'm stuck through lack of ways to keep the essay cohesive. Oh, gossamer-thoughts, will you not return to me? I'm just dawdling.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

E is for Euphonium

Etymology of euphonium: the Greek word euphonos, which means "of good sound."

I'd say so.

Why am I mentioning this? Next semester I'm going to be switching from flute to euphonium. Upper woodwind player going to lower brass? When said woodwind player has barely even touched a brass instrument? We'll see how it goes.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

6 Advantages to being a Polyglot

1. It makes you (seem) smarter.

2. You can listen in on conversations.

3. You can mutter to yourself (and others) and lower the risk of people knowing what you're saying.

4. Grammar makes more sense: split infinitives are wrong because in many languages the infinitive is one word.

5. You can figure out the meanings of words.

6. You can appreciate the way languages fit together.

Monday, November 1, 2010


I'm not doing it. I've thought about it, debated a little, My current WIPs are not in a place where I can really NaNoWriMo them.

Then, also, there is the method. 50,000 words in a month sounds very, very enticing, but I have other obligations. Can I afford to carve out two or so hours of writing each and every day? I wish.

Maybe some other time.