Saturday, October 21

Showing writing to other people.

One of the things that annoys me most about my writing: I can write something, which I am so amazingly awed, about, so, so excited about (!), and yet for the sake that it contains stuff so innately bound up in other people who're close to me - in not only my stories, but theirs, ours. And so despite these pieces being - to me, at least - some of the most important, I have to keep them hidden, because I'm a slave to my writing, and know that people would get so uppity towards me if I published them just now. So I won't.

To keep my parents remotely happy about my writing, I decided to be a very nice daughter - yes, do agree here, if you're reading this - and show them something I'd written. Okay, so it was only a draft, and it was about family stuff, but yes, I managed to actually show them something. & I feel *good* about that.

There's more that needs to be said on this topic, though I am off now, to try and throw my headache away.

Thursday, October 19


There seem to be different types of people I talk to, regarding conversation and interest of it, and a few ways I'd group them would be...

  1. Those who start off with chat and never move onto having an interesting conversation.
  2. Those who start off with interesting conversation and move onto crap chat.
  3. Those who always maintain interesting conversation.

and then, there are those who constantly shivver between blips of interesting, decent easily-moving conversation, and the worst sort of chat where you don't actually feel the smallest drip of effort being put into the 'conversation'. The sort where idiosyncrasy is no where to be found, no matter how much effort you, personally, put in.

The question of why the fluctuation? is one which requires some steady conversing of ideas in my own mind, nevermind the other person's, or people's.

Two things seem obvious, and I don't wish to seem patronising at all by writing them here, but I need to so that you can track my thought.

A. The person is just making no effort, and can only make interesting conversation with a great exertion of effort.

B. The person is behaving so due to being in a group.

Largely - & this is one of the reasons I detest social psychology - people fit into group B. Clearly we all change so much about us when we're around other people, but the extent to which some people change is extremely unnerving. Especially when you've not seen them in a group situation before.

People in group A, who're constantly in that group, I pity. I mean, really, is it that difficult to be remotely interesting? (And no, this is not an open advertisement for you to all slag off my blog as crap, although of course, if you really do have a qualm with it, then say. Or anything else for that matter. I like getting comments, especially *interesting* ones.)

(This was due to a bout of struggle on MSN, struggle to get remotely interesting conversations. I've said it before, and not really done it, but this time, I think I shall: it's time to 1) cut the numbers on my MSN, and 2) use the lovely feature known to mankind of those who use MSN as that device which allows you to block people.

Alternatively, of course, I could just abandon it completely...)

Wednesday, October 18

Messy room, messy mind.

It's currently half tidy, half extremely messy. I gave up tidying, and came on here in frustration, to earn some procrastination points. It's in need of a hoover, a *real* tidy. From moving my bed out I unearthed several things, including vaseline, a green pen (one of the clotty, biro ones), a 2b pencil of a blue colour, and a lypsal (is that how you spell it? You should know what I mean, anyway) which I had when I went skiing. The lypsal smells GORGEOUS. Seriously, all vanilla-y and creamy. I don't know why I decided to do this blog, but part of me hopes that it will be a good place to put all the blah I don't know who to give it to, and to put my writing up. I read a lot of stuff I enjoyed last night, really funny, hilariously human poetry. & I wrote a little bit, too. The plan was to type it up, having done my schoolwork, oh, and music practise. Plans are failing right now though, they're rubbish when you've a divided self.

Tuesday, October 17

Contrast, contrast, contrast.

Thought from the hour & a bit after school in the art room. I am supposedly now teaching (can you believe it? Me, teaching? I'll give myself a few 'sessions' before I get fed up and frustrated that they can't do it...) one of my friends (would say his name, but I dunno how hoo-ha-ery he'd get about it, so, to avoid that, I shan't) to do art. Ha. Well... supposedly. I quite like the idea of it in a way -- but it's also ridiculous. I've said on numerous occassions to many people that if I ever begin trying to 'teach' they ought to stop me right there. Maybe I should say 'help out', instead? Then it doesn't have the cloyyedness that 'teach' does. I suppose it's only one person though. & it's a friend... to be continued...

Monday, October 16

Monologue? Dramatic scene? Poem?

I have the basic scratches of a poem. & these, I permit myself to say, are looking quite good. But I'm just not sure *how* to present the ideas. & that is what makes a poem, right? Basically, it's like an argument between two people, about some shoes that someone chose to wear to school. And I sort of want it to sound like it's replaying in the person's mind, as if they're taking the piss out of the person who was telling them not to wear the shoes. So far, the person whose POV it's from is speaking in normal font, and the other is in italics, but it just.. doesn't look very much like a poem. Then again, it's difficult to define a poem, and I fear that by having just said *that*, I've now put myself in the 'tries too difficult to categorise poetry' box. And I don't really want to be in any box, who does? Anywaay... it's just... looking like a script at the moment, which I don't suppose is necessarily a bad thing.

Perhaps I could put 'Script of...' as the title, or, to be more illusive, 'Excerpt from script of...'?

Ideas welcome. Ideas needed.

In need of...

Am in need of several things.

  • own copy of To Kill a Mockingbird (to scribble wonderful things over)
  • stamps, normal UK ones
  • international stamps for letter for German friend (actually need to re-find letter though)
  • to find bike lock. (So can practise using it, as James kindly explained to me, not something I think should really need explaining, but I did ask...)

Oh, and

  • more sleep.

And I need to try and get my final MS edits done, plus drawings. Wish I could put drawings up.

I've tried to put pics up, but it doesn't work. Any advice anyone? Oh, and I want to edit the blog links, as well, although that link seems to be down at the moment, so perhaps in a couple of days...

(Think I did say that not everything on this would be relevant to anything, and that most would be irrelevant. If not, I have now, so don't complain.)

Sunday, October 15

Postcards. Of the type which you make yourself.

I made two today. One I was going to post on here to show you. I think quite a few people who know me would laugh when they see it. It's a crappy drawing, though I'll blame that on the pen, not me. 'Scruffy but in a tidy way'. (Did I quote that correctly?)

I know I'm going to get through the pack of DIY postcards swiftly. A ridiculously expensive buy from the Tate (£3, I think), but just the paper itself is gorgeous. Another trip to Paperchase is required soon...