I don't know about you, but when I started out writing, my idea of being a bonafide author was sitting in desk by myself, clicking furiously on a typewriter (because come on, typewriter screams author SO MUCH MORE than laptop) with several half-full cups of coffee and yelling over my shoulder, "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR FOOD RIGHT NOW OKAY?!" Oh, and artsy hats. You have to have artsy hats.
Granted, when I started out writing, I was young enough to still be watching Blue's Clues, so my notions of the world might've been slightly off. Well, then I grew up (figuratively speaking). I realized that people don't use typewriters anymore. I realized that coffee is expensive and causes headaches if you drink too much of it. I realized that I cannot write on an empty stomach. Food will always trump writing. And I realized that my head is way too big for hats. Just look at it. I'm like an Asian bobblehead doll. I will never be able to wear cute beanies and berets. Yes, it's emotionally scarring to me. Let's not bring it up again.
I also realized that authors have writerly friends. This was a shocking discovery. Authors are supposed to live alone except for their twenty-seven cats (twenty-seven is the magic number of cats that screams perpetual loser-dom and loneliness; you're good if you only have twenty-six) and shun the rest of the human race. Well, really, I discovered that Libba Bray is friends with like...every other YA author ever and they all live in NYC. And that Scott Westerfeld and Justine Larbalestier are married. I mean...whaaaaaa?* Authors can't MARRY each other! That's like...against the rules of authordom. There are rules, I swear.
What was the question again? Seriously, I forgot. Oh, right. Do I associate with other writers? NaNo was the first time I met other writers in real life. IRL, writers are pretty much as you expect them to be. They carry around laptops and notebooks and stuff. And sometimes they stop whatever they're doing to scribble random things down like psychopathic hall monitors. I like write-ins. I think they make me more productive. They also give you a nice sense of community, so you don't feel like you're the only person who engages in this somewhat odd hobby. One of my MLs gave me a ride home so I wouldn't have to take the bus, which was pretty nice. Of course, my biggest source of associative-ness is you guys. My blog is where I hash out my secretive writing life. I think it's important that everyone has one person as an outlet. There's one of my real life friends who actually knows my ideas, and she listens to my ranting (more in the summer, since we're both in different cities now). The other person I go to is greenconverses. Just an online friend, but I always go to her when I need help. We're Facebook friends too, so we can go crazy on each other's walls during NaNo.
Anyway, I'm going to spending some quality time with my novel tonight, because I can't go out. Was going to, but these three canker sores in my mouth have made it impossible for me to interact with people without sounding angry or like I have a serious speech impediment. It hurts a lot to talk. Or smile.** And it's causing me to have weird facial expressions to minimize the pain, so I think it might be better for me not to go to public places, even public places where people are too boozed up to notice your face. So it sucks. But at least The Office is on tonight.
Monday: Flames and Shadows
Tuesday: Somewhere Nowhere In My Kingdom
Wednesday: Sometimes Helpful Nonsense
Friday: Girl With A Notebook
Links are on the side.
*It also didn't help that Justine is Australian and Scott is American. I kind of assumed that Justine lived in Australia. I guess they switch countries every couple of months. Is it sad that I know this much about their lives?
**I'm hoping really hard that the sores won't hurt as badly tomorrow. I'm getting baptized tomorrow night (woooo hoooo), so I would like to be able to pray out loud without sounding like I'm using a *tone* with Jesus.