Occuring whilst re-reading the 8000 words I did manage to write for this year's NaNo, which I gave up on, thinking it was worthless.

Well it aint ego to go back over your own work and think: Hey! I might just have been wrong!

Consequently I am kicking myself for not forcing my fingers to keep on typing. What I thought was rubbish now actually MAKES SENSE. Stream of consciousness- it actually works! I understood what I'd written (and I read the whole lot) and barring a few flippant remarks that didn't meld with the rest of the writing, I actually liked it. Loved it, really. It's unusual for that to happen and when it does I know I'm onto something good.

So. Alright, I didn't finish it for NaNo- that's fair enough and I will get on with it. Just a minor disappointment. Big deal.

BUT. I have this awful feeling now that I wont ever be able to finish it and I really would like to, but the thoughts that were with me and the strange sense of spilling out whatever came into my head and finding it still made sense when read through... may be gone. Forever. Sounds dramatic but I feel it. I don't know what to do with it.

Cutting it down to size might be a start, as this one will never reach 50,000 words. It's that old feeling of having abandoned something- my original intention was to bury it in my computer's memory and never look at it again, just like my first NaNo story, The Words Between. Aside from a few swift glances I've not looked at it since I finished it.

My main story, The Pantheon, just isn't doing anything right now- I still have a desire to finish it, but I need a break from ethical arguments, I really do. So for now, expect nought but short prose, m'dears!

I gave up and feel much better for it and I do not think I'll bother with it again. BOOYAH.

I'm going to hop along to youtube, listen to some debate videos (UPPING THE ATHEISTS, but I wish they wouldn't swear so much) and then dance along to some ragtime. I love the 1920s.

Had a monster of a headache yesterday... possibly the computer screen will bring it back but another deathly BORING day in bed will not do!

And I lost out on an interview last friday. How positively shy-making!

On the plus side, now I'm not nano-novelling, I have gone back to work on my Pantheon novel and possibly my poetry. Down beazy, down!

Project: National Novel Writing Month
Novel Name: The Pastel House (working title)
Word Goal: 50,000
Time Period: 30 days
Present Emotions:

Hurling myself in the thick of it, just like last year. And I fully expect to collapse in a heap once I reach that final word... 'The End' not included.

I finished last year, so why the hell shouldn't I do it again??

Raising last year's tragic main character from the grave... or should I say simply writing a new story entwined with his... More about artists and ideals, plus a general rant about housewifery and the uselessness of certain lives. And manic summer storms over the sea. It all makes sense in my head, promise.

Just to add to the frustration, I have an odd cold/throat infection that wont leave and makes it very hard to sleep. This could come in very handy for writing, but it seems at the end of November that I'll be even more wiped out than I was last time...

It doesn't help when ideas for two other stories (both of which I've been working on for at least three years) keep popping up. BEHAVE!!

But telling the various dark muses in my head to obey orders is like telling a dragon not to breath fire. Or a pirate not to dance the gallows jig. I've been listening to Nox Arcana recently- much dark fantasy, perfectly fitting my Evil Fairytales project.

Be-e-e--e-e-babbling. Feeling like I want to scream. Being a writer is extremely useful- whenever you're dreaming up some scenario for your character, you can just use them inside your head to get out some evil form of emotion! Just let them scream forever. Or giggle hysterically. Always makes me smile.

Just to update the journal. ANSWER OR DIE!!!

1. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
2. Am I lovable?
3. How long have you known me?
4. When and how did we first meet?
5. What was your first impression?
6. Do you still think that way about me now?
7. What do you think my weakness is?
8. Do you think I'll get married?
9. What makes me happy?
10. What makes me sad?
11. What reminds you of me?
12. If you could give me anything what would it be?
13. How well do you know me?
14. When's the last time you saw me?
15. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
16. Do you think I could kill someone?
17. Describe me in one word.
18. Do you think our friendship is getting stronger/weaker/or staying the same?
19. Do you feel that you could talk to me about anything and I would listen?
20. Are you going to put this on your journal and see what I say about you?

National Novel Writing Month [link] is here again and EXACTLY like last year, the book I've been planning for ages has decided not to be written this November. It will instead be replaced by yet another story whose first page I wrote randomly whilst trying to concentrate on something else.

It's a theme I've never used before. Housewifery. It's also stream of consciousness which basically means that any chapter planning is impossible. I simply know the beginning, end, the events in between and I simply have to keep writing until I hit the final page.

WAH. I let myself in for this every year, I swear...

In other news, I am feeling very very sick. Food is clearly not my friend today.