uniquelyallie: (bucky writing)
And I don't know why. Well, I do. Kinda.

I spent this year (kinda) over at Dreamwidth because I hated the "new" look of LiveJournal, cringe every time I see ONTD on LJ's main page, still not crazy about the Russians, and my friends' list is basically dead. But Dreamwidth's not much better. I have like two friends over there.

I spent this past weekend reminisicing again over how cool the Internet used to be with LJ, Romance Divas, AOL's Writers Club, Genie RomEx, RWA... and how there's not places like that anymore. I know I did a similar post bitching about this (probably around this time last year). I hate how RWA is like THE thing for romance writers -- and it's not. They restructured their bylaws for tax purposes, which caused a lot of local chapters to die. Ohio Valley RWA is one of those dead chapters, and I refuse to fork out close to $150 to join National and an online chapter or two when online chapters are nothing more than promo opportunities.

Divas has changed focus from when I joined in 2005 -- and rightfully so because pretty much all of the people who were there when I joined are actively publishing. (Absolute Write's forum's too big; Harlequin's forum is too small.)

I guess I'm looking for a beginner/intermediate place a la AOL's Writers Club or Genie RomEx, where the pubbed authors hang out at, but so do the aspiring authors working on aspiringly things. And there'd be nightly writer chats.

I just can't believe with how awesome and big and endless the Internet is... there's NOTHING like that anymore? And there's NOTHING that competes with RWA?

I've spent the past 1 1/2 years surviving in college, but haven't done any fiction writing in the meantime, so I opened up another goal room for myself over on Divas this morning, even though I don't feel fiction writerly. I have a month off for Winter Break, so I'm like, "This would be the perfect time to write a draft!" I've done it for NaNoWriMo. I've even reached 50K. But the problem is... I don't know how to write a draft where all 50K words tell a complete story. In my last NaNovel I wrote in 2013, I'd sometimes rewrite a scene two or three different times, and just apply it all toward the word count. So I had a story a little over 50K -- complete with a beginning and end -- but I had to gut huge chunks, leaving me with only 12K.

So after I opened up the goalie room, I decided maybe I should get back to journaling. I need a safe space that's not a "professional" blog like what I have on my fiction writer's site or my journalist's site. That means either LiveJournal or Dreamwidth. Maybe if I'm back here on LJ, something will trigger in my brain like, "Yeah, remember when you used LJ back when you were a happy naive writer who was writing for fun? It can be that way again!"

I only wish I could wipe out pretty much all of my old entries. I tried it before, eliminating some of the ex-fiance entries, but it's just such a pain in the ass. I think I could only delete one entry at a time or something.

No promises I'll stick around, but I'll try.
uniquelyallie: (bucky writing)

If you are able to recall any pleasant writing experiences, make a note of them. Then remind yourself of these experiences whenever you think about writing.

Katie and I writing every weekend when we were in junior high. I can't remember how it started... probably had something to do with Mrs. Leesemann. I don't think we were in the same English class together, and I think that while Mrs. Leesemann was actively encouraging me to become a writer... Katie started writing because she liked it. We'd take turns spending the night at each other's house, pretty much every weekend. We'd go to the mall during the day, sometimes, or we'd hang out and watch a movie. But then came that time... it was writing time. I remember one time when we watched "Say Anything" at Katie's. We were so caught up in the movie, so in love with Lloyd Dobbler, so squealy happy how the movie ended that once it ended... we ran upstairs to Katie's room and started writing.

We'd write by hand. Pens and spiral notebooks. We'd write for stretches of time. I can't remember how long. But we'd take breaks and read what we wrote out loud. We never critiqued. We were too young to know what "critique" was. We were too caught up in each other's stories, too excited about what we were creating to even care about critique. Maybe we might've offered ideas. And then we'd write for another chunk of time. We'd do this all night long. I remember one time at my house... we did this until 7:00 the next morning.

3-Day Novel 2007. I remember I wasn't planning on doing it. It was $55 to enter the actual contest. I hadn't written anything major (Edison/Bauldner) since 2003, 2004. But someone on the 3-Day message board posted how God called her to do this. I don't know. It just set me off. I've always believed in something, but not necessarily a God. I remember thinking how God doesn't make anyone do anything; it's YOU who makes yourself do something. So I entered the contest to prove that to this woman.

I don't remember what happened around the midnight start time on that Friday night of Labor Day weekend. I probably worked at The Post. I don't even remember the beginning of Grant & Lauren being born that weekend. But I do remember it being SO MUCH FUN.

I wasn't even sure going into this that I'd actually finish.

I remember in the days leading up to the weekend, putting together Grant & Lauren's soundtrack, and trolling for Adam Levine pictures. I had an outline, but it was a sketchy one. Even the character profiles were sketchy. I remember walking to Starbucks every morning that weekend, listening to whatever specific song for the scenes I wanted to write on my iPod Shuffle, and getting a large pumpkin latte and a cheese danish. I remember the transition to appletinis and Papa John's pizza at some point in the day, every day. (I had gone to the Party Source before the weekend and got the biggest bottle of Apple Pucker and vodka they had. I figured I was going to need a lot of alcohol to get me through.)

It was the combination of the appletinis and just... just having a huge chunk of hermit time... I don't even remember really thinking about the story as I was writing it. Only have three days to write a whole novel (even if the average word count for a 3-day novel was 30K)... there was no time to think, to question, to doubt. I'd take brief breaks, pacing myself throughout the weekend, and read what I wrote. I remember being amazed at how there was a story coming out of me so fast. I remember the drunken excitement I had when I wrote my very first sex scene ever--and it wasn't cheesy.

I can't remember the end of the weekend, other than I finished. And that I was sick of pizza and needed to detox for weeks from the appletinis.

I remember printing off the manuscript, so I could read it before sending it off to the contest. I remember staring at the printer in amazement as the pages slowly spewed, amazed that I had written a complete story. I sat at the card table in the living room in my apartment in Clifton with a large glass of water, and read the entire story out loud. As I kept reading, I just got SO excited. I could see the story, I could see the characters, Lauren's voice really jumped off the page. By the end, I was crying happy tears. Crying because I had fallen in love with Grant & Lauren as people. Crying because the story came together so easily even though it was rough. Crying that I actually DID IT. I had written a complete novel.

uniquelyallie: (bucky writing)

From Unstuck: A Supportive and Practical Guide to Working Through Writer's Block:

Think about sitting down to write--a report, a term paper, a legal brief, a short story, or any other form you choose--and observe your emotions, your thoughts, and your physical response. Do you feel a sense of dread? Does your heart beat faster? Do you tell yourself, "This will never work out"? Or do you quickly think of something else you should be doing instead?

I just feel blank. I'm sitting in front of Lime--sure, I'm probably writing--but I feel blank. I'm too caught up in something else, but I don't know what. It's not like I'm thinking ahead of what I need to write. Usually when I write, I'm typing so fast to get the story out. There's probably a lot of backspacing going on, but it's not like I'm correcting anything or making things better. I'm just... backspacing.

There's no excitement. No rush. I'm just going through the motions. Everything I love about writing I now hate. Yet I don't hate. Maybe dislike? I don't hate Grant & Lauren. But when I work on them... there's no excitement. I'm not seeing the movie in my head. I try listening to their soundtrack to get me jazzed, but nothing. I haven't listened to Sondre Lerche in forever because he's so associated with Grant & Lauren.

I'm blank. I'm numb. I feel nothing. I know I should probably walk away from Lime, but I don't. I sit there, either writing very little or writing nothing at all, because deep down... I *want* to write.

If I try to work on something new... nothing. No words come out. I'll look at outlines for other novels, and I can't see the movie, or I can't feel the excitement I had when I wrote those outlines. I think about playing with writing prompts just to get my brain dislodged. Nope. I read writing prompts, and all they are are sentences to me.

I don't even get angry or frustrated that I'm not writing when I'm trying to write.

But I guess I do avoid writing, going through this blankness, because I don't go through the motions every night of just sitting there in hopes that something will click and the words will start flowing again. I fall back on excuses: I had a crappy day at work (which is true, more often than not. Especially with this miserable assignment). I had no work to do for most of the day at work, so I'm drained. I had to stare at a lot of labels all day at work, so I'm drained. Traffic coming home was awful, so I'm annoyed. The apartment is so cluttered that it drains me. I want to spend time with Jason... which used to be crazy fun all the time... but now? It's just fun. Sometimes it's like a chore. Wait. That's the wrong term. Sometimes it's blank, too. But it's because he's not spending time with *me* because I've lost that writer part of myself.

I can't wake up early to write before work because I'm not excited about the day. I mean, look what I have to look forward to. Staring at labels and templates. Though I strangely like comparing ingredients. Maybe because it feels more like editing.

I wonder if this writing blankness indirectly plays a part in my pissiness with Thursday group?

I don't feel anything when it comes to writing. Be it the actual process or the other aspects of it. I mean, yeah, I'm starting to read again. But it's been books on Christianity. I've avoided reading fiction much like I've avoided writing. Hell, I can't say I've *avoided* writing. It's hard to avoid something that you just don't do anymore.

I'm jealous of Dan. I think that's why I get nervous about him coming back to Cincinnati and Jason spending time with him. I'm jealous of Dan because he's doing music; he's doing what he loves. I'm lucky if I can write a paragraph. The other night when Jason said he needs to break out the SK-1 and start playing with it, start making music... I got jealous then, too. Because he's inspired, because he's going to be creative. Meanwhile, I'm just so... blank.

God, just writing this journal entry... I've done a lot of backspacing. And when I'm writing this... I'm not even thinking. But it's not "not thinking" like in a good way. Like I'm so lost in my words. I'm just... not thinking. And it's like I'm not even *there*, experiencing the flow. Yet it doesn't feel like I'm forcing the words. I didn't even want to do this prompt. I started reading chapter two. I had to make myself stop, force myself to pick a prompt to explore, telling myself that I'm not going to get my writer self back if I don't at least try.

I think I feel blank in most areas of my life.

uniquelyallie: (Default)
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There, for awhile, I was notorious for being a comment-receiver, but then that kinda dropped off because I would never respond to my comments or leave comments in others' LJ, due to my suckage at time management and being in every email group known to man, so I had a lot of email backlog to sift through.

Now I'm doing better...

Comments: Posted: 856 - Received: 759

Go me! That ratio used to be the other way around.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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Like in person?

[livejournal.com profile] linzbnl found me first. We were both going to UC at the time.

I met [livejournal.com profile] bardiphouka, [livejournal.com profile] ctakahara, [livejournal.com profile] delordra, [livejournal.com profile] hegemonyhog, [livejournal.com profile] jonkook, [livejournal.com profile] myopia2000, [livejournal.com profile] nasturtium, [livejournal.com profile] smileydee, and [livejournal.com profile] tadiera through Cincinnati NaNoWriMo activities. (And I know I've got some Cincy people that I met through the NaNoWriMo message boards, but I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't remember if I met you in person or not because it's been years since I've done NaNoWriMo).

I met [livejournal.com profile] memnochlv and [livejournal.com profile] zappagirl when [livejournal.com profile] linzbnl, [livejournal.com profile] delorda [livejournal.com profile] myopia2000, and I went to 80's Prom Night at Jillian's back in 2005. They're friends of Myo's.

I talked to [livejournal.com profile] alg after her Spotlight on Tor/Forge workshop at the 2003 RWA National Conference in New York to let her know that my Daphne final she requested wasn't finished (and it's still not).

I met [livejournal.com profile] stephanielynch and [livejournal.com profile] cais at the RWA From The Heart gathering at the 2004 RWA National Conference in Dallas.

Had plans to meet [livejournal.com profile] volterra at the same conference, and I did, but it was funny how we met. Big crowded room--it was like out in one of the main areas of the hotel. As I was walking past people, I just happened to turn and glance at someone's name tag as they passed me, and it was Volterra.

The absolute best meet is [livejournal.com profile] svanderslice.

We met on a flight from Philly to Columbus, Ohio. She was going to Columbus to do some work training; I was going home after The Move, Part 1. I couldn't figure out Southwest's new boarding process--and it didn't help that the gate agent told us the wrong instructions; she was buzzed on wine because she hates flying. We were convinced that we were in the right line, while everyone else was wrong. But no, turns out that we were standing in a line for a flight to Pittsburgh. We sat together on the plane, and found out that we both like Doctor Who (especially the Doctor and Rose), romance novels, and writing. (She writes Who fanfic, but wants to do some original fiction too). And I found out yesterday that she's selling Mary Kay now, so I have a go-to girl when I'm in Philly for my Mary Kay needs. :)
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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My first userpic was probably the NaNoWriMo 2002 Participant icon:






I always liked that icon style the best. The NaNoWriMo '04 icons with the flowers with faces were cute too. Not a big fan of their running man with pencil they've been using the past couple years.

I selected my current default userpic:





Because I'm moving to Philadelphia next month, and seeing the skyline on a daily basis gives me motivation to get through (albeit slowly) the packing and sorting I've been doing of all the stuff that's been stored at my parents' house and best friend's basement over the years.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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Nobody specifically introduced me to LiveJournal. I discovered NaNoWriMo back in 2002--how, I don't remember--and signed up for it. A bunch of Nanos had LJs to track their progress, post snippets from their NaNovels, or post their NaNovels in its entirety as they wrote them. I remember that you needed an invite code to join LJ back then, and since I knew no one to get a code, I paid for like a one month (or some ridiculously small amount of months) account.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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I would only want to be a guy, so that I could have a penis and pee standing up.

I hate, hate, hate public restrooms. Every time I go into one, I feel like I'm playing Let's Make A Deal. "I'll take what's behind Door #3!" And then, usually, I have to go try what's behind doors four through six before I find a stall that's worthy of sitting on. I mean, I can't *believe* the way some stalls look. Dribbles on the seats. Toilet seat covers half in the bowl. Wads of TP everywhere. How do these women keep their bathrooms at home????

Yeah, I know, I can hover, but that takes more effort than it's worth.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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How 'bout neither?

Because both do absolutely nothing for me.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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Without a doubt, it's The Cell.

It's one out of three movies (the other two being The Fountain and Solaris) that I rabidly, rabidly hate to the point where I *want* to share the traumatic experience with others.

I mean, as the end credits were rolling, I gaped (and not in a good way... not like how I gape at Hamid Karazi for being so freaking *hawt*) at the movie screen, then when the credits were over, and the theater was silent (only a few people were still sitting), I shouted, "What the hell was that? No, really, what the hell was that???" while flailing my arms at the screen.

I know, I know... I never should've saw a movie where J. Lo tried to do a "dramatic role" (she played a psychotherapist). But the premise sounded interesting: The psychotherapist goes inside the mind of a comatose serial killer to save his next victim. And Vincent D'Onofrio played an awesome baddie.

I think, really, the fault lies with... I'm actually going to say the fault lies with the director more than the writer. The director was Tarsem. His claim to fame before The Cell was the music video for "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M. It's like he walked into The Cell, thinking it's just a two hour long music video, so he wanted to make it as pretty as possible. And it *was* pretty. But no amount of prettiness is going to make up for how bad it sucked.

Hell, The Fountain had more potential. At least I got The Fountain. Still had the same reaction at the end--"What the hell was that???--but I'm blaming that one on Darren Aronofsky just going so intellectually deep that mere mortals couldn't comprehend.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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This is a no-brainer.

Turn it in to the authorities ASAP. I don't want kids of my own. I'm sure as hell not going to care for someone else's--be it found, dumped off, or given to me.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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I can't say I really had any remorse on any of my purchases... because I can usually rationalize the hell out of all my purchases. :) Much like Becky Bloomwood. Who's Becky Bloomwood? The main character of the oh-so-great (and my absolute favorite series of books) Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella.

No, wait, I bought a box of condoms the other day. It was a 12-count variety pack. $6.97. I needed the three mint condoms for research purposes for Grant and Lauren.
uniquelyallie: (cute case)
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Either Theora Jones from Max Headroom--and I'd change it to where I'd hook up with Edison Carter.

Or...

Lilly Rush from Cold Case--and I'd change it to where that little screw up between Lilly's sister and Scotty never happened, and then I'd hook up with Scotty.

Or...

I'd do a Life/House crossover, and I'd be a love interest of both House and Charlie, but the thing is... both Hugh Laurie and Damian Lewis would have to speak in their British accents for that Very Special Episode.
uniquelyallie: (Default)
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Birdhouse in Your Soul by They Might Be Giants:






But Jeff would say it's I Can't Drive 55 by Sammy Hagar:



uniquelyallie: (Default)
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Classical music for when I write my featured obits. Usually the two classical channels on XM. I used to listen to WGUC, but it's like the Parvo love fest. (Yes, I called Paavo "Parvo.")

The Starbucks Channel on XM for when I write my newspaper chick lit. I've tried using that channel for some of my other chick lits, but I guess I spent too much time listening to it while plotting and mega drafting the newspaper chick lit that I can't associate it with any other story.

Coast to Coast AM for when I'm writing weird. There's nothing I like better than to hear George Noory or Ian Punnett say, "Next we have so-and-so on the wild card line." Because you know that caller is going to be REALLY far out there, and if it's George taking the call, you know George is going to believe ANYTHING the caller says.

The Chill Channel on XM. Sometimes for writing; other times just for relaxing.
uniquelyallie: (bucky writing)
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Oh, don't freaking ask! Because I found a box in Mom's storage room that says SHOES. Can't wait to go through that box. I'm sure it'll take me a week. (No, really, it's just a copy paper box, so there can't be *that* many shoes inside.)

I've got a shoe rack on the back of my bedroom door with shoes I don't wear anymore, so I can get rid of those.

So, really, I've got three pairs I wear on a regular basis. My tie up Docs (oxfords) that I wear petty much every day during the fall/winter/early spring. Then, once it gets warm enough, I pretty much wear my Birkenstocks.

For dressy shoes, I have another pair of Docs that remind me of Bubbles' (from the Powerpuff Girls).

Then I have a pair of Victorian style shoes I wear with really fancy dresses... like my Victorian/Gothic dress and my Titanic dress.

And a pair of snow boots.

So I guess that makes five pairs.

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uniquelyallie: (Default)
Allison Kelsey

December 2015

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