On Boys, Love, and Sex

[Okay, big kid mature topics coming up. Also, this post is extremely heterosexual-centric, but that's because I am currently not writing any gay characters, so I'm focusing this strictly on the work I'm doing with my WIP.]

Last week, I sent the first 12,000 words of THE FOREVER CITY to a beta reader for a critique, just so I could get a feel of whether the story was starting off on the right foot. Was it appealing? Did it have potential? I got the critique back yesterday, and I am completely awesome-ed out by it. I purposely sent it to someone I don't know personally, because I wanted a brutal, honest evaluation. The beta sent back plenty of comments, and of course, it needs work in some areas. But overall? Looks like a definite thumbs up, so I'm thrilled about that. Best areas: world building (always a concern of mine), characterization, emotional impact (Clare's mother dies at the very beginning, so the fact that the reader can feel Clare's grief is important), and voice. Yay, all good things.

One thing that stuck out to me the most about the criticism was that Clare gets the reader right away, but Adrien, the boy MC who tells half of the story, didn't trigger the beta's interest until several thousand words later. I mulled this over in my head all day, and I think I know why.

I don't get boys. 

First off, please read this if you ever intend on writing YA boy characters. I recently finished AFTER THE MOMENT by Garret Freymann-Weyr, which features a boy MC. The author is a woman. And as you can see from her post, she did a little research before she delved into this character. I highly recommend AFTER THE MOMENT for anyone who appreciates beautiful writing and doesn't mind a slower plot. [Genre: literary.] This is the author of STAY WITH ME, easily the best book I read in 2010 and possibly one of the best books I've ever read. She does a fantastic portrayal of a teenaged boy. He is neither an idiot nor a girl's chick lit fantasy. He is real. This is my own opinion, of course, and I'm a girl. Maybe a boy would read this and be like, wtf, this is not how boys are at all. But I enjoyed it. I liked reading about a boy who seems authentic, uncensored, rather than one who is hell-bent on tossing romantic gestures left and right and being the knight in shining armor. 

Adrien doesn't click at once, possibly because I'm writing my idea of a boy instead of what boys are really like. I intrinsically know Clare, know how she thinks, what she feels, what she is afraid of, what she loves, what she hates, the way she responds to situations. I am always trying to figure out Adrien.

I don't get boys.

I haven't grown up in a convent or anything. Personal information HO! Here it comes I've dated boys, although I've never had what I'd consider a serious relationship. I have friends who are boys, although they probably sanitize their behavior and words around me. I am not friends with jackass boys, of which there are plenty in college. I do have some measure of self-esteem. If a boy treats me like shit, he is BAM out of my life in two seconds flat. I don't fall for "bad boys" or whatever is the hot thing in YA paranormal chick lit nowadays. Being mysteriously douchey is not attractive to me. Be intelligent; treat me with admiration and respect. Do not try to make out with me drunkenly on dance floor of a reeking bar. No means no, guys! That is my baseline consideration for boys. All in all, this is what I believe I deserve, but not necessarily how all boys are at this age. Or ever.

But. The big but. I can't say I've fallen in love. In order to fall in love, I generally think it's a prerequisite to be in a stable relationship with someone. So that too, makes it hard to understand boys. I've read so many books about girls falling in love. Yet I rarely read books with boys falling in love. What do boys think about love? About girls? About sex? On one hand, I have this impression that all boys think about is getting in your pants. You live on a college campus, this is not a hard conclusion to come to. This is also what 90% of people* will tell you about boys. They're go-getters. They're aggressive. They're highly sexualized and can't control their impulses (which is bullshit, by the way; stop making excuses for rapists). They Just Want Sex, Okay? 

I am trying to reconcile this belief with the real boys I know. Who are not assholes. Who don't try to coerce you into doing things you are uncomfortable with. Who act like girls are people and not pieces of ass. But yes, it must be possible that they are also just thinking about getting into another girl's pants. I suppose I am lucky that I know many of the thoughtful boys, Freymann-Weyr refers to in her post. And I do have very high opinions of all of the boys I know. Otherwise I wouldn't associate myself with them. Obviously. You can probably tell from my post that I have high standards, and that is not always a positive thing. It means I'm frequently demanding and probably also high-maintenance, as much as I'd like to think I'm not. But anyway, "thoughtful" does not mean "asexual," and who am I to know what is going on inside a boy's head at all times? And well -- girls think about sex too. So there's that.

I DON'T GET BOYS. 

Mainly, I think it's hard these days to write a book with a boy who is a boy without being the boy that girls want him to be. Still, the rewards of writing a real boy who makes mistakes, isn't a genius and isn't an idiot but somewhere in between, are great. Just like all girls are different, boys need to be defined by themselves and not by the girls around them.

The beta reader added that the novel kicks off with Clare battling for emotional survival, while Adrien is really having an existential crisis about his existence -- probably not as immediately gripping as Clare's storyline, although his half picks up quickly. Perhaps this is an issue of starting a scene too early when I need to cut to when the action starts Right Away. In any case, I still don't get boys, and this is probably something I should figure out before I can convincingly put a boy on a page and expect him to grab readers.

On the other hand, I think I can count the male readers of this blog on one hand, so this is not helping my case either.

PS I hit 15,000 words today on the manuscript. Am pleased and excited. I genuinely think this novel might be The One. And even if it's not, it's a pleasure to read and a pleasure to write. So that makes me happy. IF ONLY my job/school/LSAT weren't giving me the finger every other second, I'd be able to get more writing done.

*I hope you know that every percentage I will ever use in my posts are all random and made up.

The Most Important Thing I've Learned About Writing

This is based on the post Weronika did about a week ago. And hers is much better than mine, so this is really an excuse for me to link to her post. Given that I've learned so much in the time between starting this blog (Feb. 09) and now, I can still say there is one thing that is the most important.

As a technical thing. Not as an existential writing-made-me-discover-my-true-self thing.

[Write in scenes.] Highlight. Underline. Italicize. Bold. Put it in Helvetica and tattoo it on your forehead. Backwards, so you can read it in the mirror in the morning.

I don't know why I was such an idiot that this took me so long to figure out, but this should be the first thing new writers learn. I wasn't even a new writer; I was just incredibly slow on the uptake. I wrote in chapters. To an outsider, this may seem like a logical thing to do; after all, most books are divided into chapters. People don't just straight shoot all the way through a novel without dividers (well -- now, I write in one document without chapter dividers because I don't write in chapters anymore). I used to wonder what the word count should be for a novel. This all seems ridiculous to me now, because a) who cares, it's not like the reader is keeping a mental tally of words per chapter and b) they're all different in every book anyway. Just looking at what's on my nightstand -- Her Fearful Symmetry has super short chapters. The Subtle Knife has really long chapters comparatively.

Because it used to be extremely difficult for me to imagine writing an entire novel, each chapter was like a benchmark, and I used it to measure my progress. I also didn't read like a writer. If I had done that, I would've noticed that writers don't mark out the passage of time in explicit words. Repeat: It is unnecessary to document every single waking moment of the MC. 

If JK Rowling did that, each Harry Potter book would be unmanageable. None of us give a flying fuck about the days Harry wakes up, fails to brush his teeth, falls asleep in Potions, and then lounges around procrastinating on homework for the rest of the day. Replace Potions with Political Science, and you're basically living my life (Except, I brush my teeth, guise. I'm hygienic, I swear.) We care about the days he gets detention and has to go to the Forbidden Forest and see unicorns murdered and stuff. Other days? NOT IMPORTANT. And we're not massive dimwits. We don't need Jo writing in commentary like, "Then, two weeks and three days passed before this thing happened in Harry's life." No, we get it. This is fiction. We're not going to wonder what Harry was doing for those two weeks and three days. We're going to assume he spent it doing stupid, boring things. Even Chosen Ones have stupid, boring, bad hair days.

Not writing in scenes made me pack my novels with horrible filler. I was so afraid I wouldn't fill a scary word quota I created in my head. But you know what? Hannah Moskowitz writes first drafts that are 20,000 words. What the hell is a word quota? What gives me the idea that novels have to be exactly this--------long? And why are chapters going to get me there?

Scenes force you to be concise. You have to know why each scene is important. The scene has to have a beginning, middle, and end. It has to have a climax. It has to change something. If it doesn't do that, it has no right to exist. If you can write a great scene, consistently write great scenes, then you can write a good novel. 

It's only unfortunate that it took me over a year to learn this simple thing.

When Life Decides To Punch You In The Eye

I have an eye infection. Which would normally not be that big of a deal, but I don't have backup glasses right now and my prescription is -5.00 in one eye and -5.25 in the other, both with astigmatism. I'm using medicated eye drops, but I can't put in contacts. My glasses aren't coming in until next Tuesday. PROBLEM.

My right eye. I am also seeking The One Ring.

I am blind. My face is about six inches away from the screen typing this.

And this really irks me because I wanted to get my 2,000 words in this week, but there's no way I can stare at a computer screen for a prolonged amount of time without corrective lenses of some sort. I KNOW; I have great priorities. Cannot see = CANNOT WRITE. (I did get 1,100 already this week, so I guess it's not a total loss.) I finished The Subtle Knife as well, because let's face it, I can't do anything except cook and read -- holding the book right up to my face -- at my apartment.

But also, I'm going to have a hell of a time going to class and taking notes. Plus, I still have to work, and I do feel bad about this actually, because it means I can't help out a whole lot with copy editing. I can only supervise. And try not to run into anybody. Going to work in T minus one hour.

Okay, so maybe the first picture was a SLIGHT exaggeration. 

This is pretty realistic, though. The facial expression as well.

Taking Breaks

I'm kind of mad that I stopped writing last semester for a couple of months. Everyone needs a break once in a while, but it is so hard getting back into writing after having quit cold turkey for a while. It's like you forget how to sit there and tell your brain to shut up and let the characters talk. You feel mildly stupid staring at a blank document, waiting for the words to come forth. So that's where I am right now, trying to get back into the flow of looking past the words on the page and spinning a story. 

I started The Fetching and realized it doesn't have the potential The Forever City does. It's too generic, and it doesn't allow me to explore the deeper themes I want. I reread TFC. It's amazing what you can see after putting something aside for a while. It's good. I mean, it may be one of the best things I've written, and I completely credit it to the fact that I approached it differently (well, also, it is the culmination of two years of intensive writing). I wrote slowly, not quickly. And I edited as I went; I wasn't spewing out words without direction, hoping to clean it up later. It's just too good for me to put aside. I do still feel passionate about this story. The more I think about it, the more ideas I get for it, and the more I think it has external and internal climax possibilities. It's really everything I've ever wanted in a novel to write. It's contemporary, it's urban fantasy, and it deals with the implications of immortality. It allows for world-building and creature-creation, but it is also deeply rooted in reality: the death of a loved one, generational differences, cultural struggles (the main character is half-Chinese), and choosing what's best for yourself versus choosing what's best for your family.

While I believe in the merits of going for a slower first draft (better quality), it's obvious that not maintaining some level of word count as progress doesn't work. Without a word count goal, I'm not planning ahead what days I can set aside for writing. When you're in college, studying for the LSAT, and working 20-30 hours a week, planning ahead is crucial if you want to get ANYTHING done. The 2,000 a week seems to be fairly reasonable right now. It's important for me to remember even if I don't accomplish the 2k/week goal every week (like I didn't this week, but it was editor training week, so eh), not to freak out about it. The main idea of the word count goal is to help me stay on track. Next week is a new week to up the word count, and last week will be past. 

The Forever City

You Mean There Are Other Freaks Like Me?

As of now, I have been fairly successful in my New Years Resolutions. I've thus far written 2,000 words per week. I'm blogging twice a week. I'm keeping up with my goal of 35 books this year. This may all change soon as I recently read this New York Times article, which is basically telling me my future consists of being overqualified, underemployed, and knee-deep in shit debt they are pretty interchangeable at this point. Better get working on that six-figure advance, eh? Jkjk, my life is one giant unattainable dream, trololol. Thanks, economy.

It is clear that I have not done a life confession lately, so it is high time I embarrass myself again on the blogosphere. Really, I need somewhere to spew my innermost dark secrets and I have to maintain somewhat of a facade of normality in real life because otherwise I would have no friends. And I like friends. Since I have never met most of you in real life, it's okay. Nothing to lose! 

When I was younger, I used to fictionalize everything around me. I'd make people in my every day life characters in a fairy tale. In a royal court. Of course, that would mean I used to cast myself as the princess. I am aware this is unsalvageably weird. I would make up stories revolving around the court. I don't why. Life was just so much more interesting as a novel, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. And once I finished one story, I'd re-cast everyone and imagine something else. True story, pretending to be a princess got me out of my habit of slouching. It was the only way I could remind myself to stand straight, because princesses always had good posture. I used to have horrendous posture, and my mother would criticize me all the time.

Not this kind of princess. That would be too normal.

THIS kind of princess. Historical ones with lengthy titles. 

I was a history major, even at a young age, I was.

Did I mention I used to think I was white too? Confession for another day.

So recently, I finished The Beautiful Between by Alyssa B. Sheinmel, and the recurring theme throughout the book is how the main character, Connelly, frames her high school as a royal court. And I was like, NO FUCKING WAY, I did that too! I don't know, maybe other people will read this book and think, wow, that girl is a complete freak, but I connected with her freakish ways. Sometimes, when you're sitting in class, you need to give your brain something to do to pass the time. And I was always obsessed with royalty. 

Thanks for validating my life, Alyssa B. Sheinmel.

Sidenote: I have spent so much time trying to figure out why the f and e are italicized. Damn you, enigmatic cover designer.

This fairy-tale/princess concept definitely an interesting way of setting the book apart from other books set in high school. Although, it's no light-hearted read. It's one of those books about illness and death (don't want to spoil the specifics). Not super memorable for the ever-popular death genre; in fact, I'll probably forget all about it in a month, but it was a nice read, nonetheless. Something sober to curl up with on a snowy day.

The Lost Hero

[Regularly scheduled posts to resume after lengthy, emotional rant.]

I am months late to this party. No, seriously, the book came out October 12, 2010 ahhh it's 2011 now, how weird is that?. I finally finished the book on Monday, so I've had a few days to mull it over and solidify my opinion. I held off on my reaction post on purpose so that it wouldn't look like a whole lot of senseless capslocking, flailing, and HULKSMASH. Well. I mean, there's still going to be a lot of that, but it'll be comprehensible, hopefully. But no guarantees.

The Heroes of Olympus!!1!1!!!!11

So yadda yadda yadda, this is not a review, and you should probably LOOK AWAY if you haven't read The Lost Hero and ever intend to in your life. Because everything from here on out is spoilery spoilery. Don't say I didn't warn you. 

My feelings about TLH are complicated. I didn't love it, which is saying a lot, because I practically worship the PJO series. I think the first series is delightfully conceived and near-perfectly paced with some of the most engaging and likeable characters to ever appear on a page. TLH is not even close to that caliber of storytelling. No way. What was fresh in the first series is now vaguely formulaic and repetitive and wow, I could drive a truck each and every one of the plot holes. So yeah, there are a lot of issues. But the one thing I think is the single largest problem in TLH is the hardcore lack of Percy Jackson. I don't even think this statement is biased based on the fact that I have an enduring love affair with him. Giving us zero Percy page time was easily the biggest mistake.

You don't just casually mention, OH BTW, Percy has been missing for days, and then build a plot that does not involve looking for him. Oh, there are people looking for him (aka all of the old crew and the people we care about), but unfortunately, we the readers have to follow some other dumbshit plot about rescuing Hera, and GOD, Rsquared, I could really not give a flying fuck about Hera. The plot involving the old characters looking for him, seemed infinitely more interesting than bonding with Jason, Leo, and Piper. I am sitting there, frothing in rage, being like wtf, why are there not BATTLE SQUADRONS of demigods being sent out to find Percy? 

Sidenote, I was super irritated that every time anyone brought up Percy's name, some new character would chime in, OH YOU MEAN THAT KID ANNABETH IS LOOKING FOR? I literally wanted to punch the wall. YEAH THAT KID. NO CLUE. I MEAN, I HEARD HE SAVED THE WORLD THREE MONTHS AGO. WHAT A HAS-BEEN.

There are two ways RR could've solved this problem. He could've written a book that was set more into the future so the old characters wouldn't figure into the plot. They'd be safely out of the way, IDK, having lots of sex and babies or whatever, and the readers could then concentrate on what was happening in front of them. Or, he could've incorporated the old characters into the main plot. But no. He took the third way, which was, create an entirely separate subplot for the old characters, have it happen simultaneously to the main plot, but not show us any of it. So the two plots are linked, but we don't get that until the end of the book. 

Basically, I did not care for the plot until about 300 pages in, which is pretty bad. There was a lot of infodump going on, but since we readers already went through the whole WELCOME TO CAMP HALF-BLOOD part in The Lightning Thief, it was not particularly interesting.

Can I take a moment, also, to RAEG about Jason and Piper? This pretty much sums up how I feel about them and their relationship:

The number of times Piper talked about how omghawt Jason was bordered on how often Bella talks about how *perfect* Edward is. That is Not Okay. I honestly cannot tell you why Jason and Piper like each other. I could give you 100 reasons why Percy likes Annabeth and vice versa. Because they have personalities outside of their relationships. Because we watched them fall in love, we were not TOLD they were in love. Jason/Piper violates the cardinal principle of show, don't tell. We are constantly being told they have feelings for each other, but we don't see it happen.

I didn't like the 3 POVs (too many) and third person (too distant). I still don't feel like I really connect with the main characters. The slang was super forced. The pop culture references ran rampant. Just very inorganic-sounding.

Okay, so that was all very negative. I did like the plot once it picked up, way too much later than I would've liked. I think the Roman aspect is something RR can run with for five books and come up with lots of interesting twists. Leo came into his own as a character, much more than Piper and Jason did. I loved returning to the world of Camp Half-Blood. The new antagonists were awesome. Medea and Midas? You know my heart, Rick, you do. Loved Annabeth's cameo. Love Thalia. The backstory was cool and I think I kind of love Hephaestus? I always liked him, though. The Roman camp is going to give me the opportunity for endless lulz, because I feel like the Romans perceive themselves as Hot Shits, when really, they just got the Greeks' sloppy seconds during the Titan War. 

Son of Neptune (coming October 2011!) is the book I really want to read. I am going to assume, DO NOT BE MISLEADING ME HERE, RSQUARED, that it's about Percy at Roman Camp. No, for srs, RR, if you are jerking with my emotions, I will not be pleased.

So that's me. 3 out of 5 stars, even though I spent a majority of this post bitching.

The Bygone Books

SEE LOOK AT ME KEEPING MY NEW YEARS GOALS. If Lawrence Dai can blog daily about Julia & Julia, then I can blog twice a week. Today, I am thinking about those book serieses (this is not a word, I'm sure, but not pluralizing it sounds more awkward) that were popular when we were younger. Big literary influences for me and hopefully books you will recognize and think, "Oh yeah, whatever happened to that?" Let the nostalgia fest begin!

The Claidi Journals by Tanith Lee. I believe I incorrectly referred to them as the Wolf Tower series in my last post, but they are actually collectively called the Claidi Journals. Probably one of the first series I remember with a female main character who basically kicks ass and takes names for the duration of the story. I loved Claidi! I tried and failed multiple times throughout my angsty pre-teen and teen years to keep a diary and I wrote them in the style of the Claidi Journals. Except badly, because I'm no Tanith Lee. 

This is high fantasy with touches of science fiction. The science fiction part kind of takes over and consumes everything in the fourth book, which I disliked, but as a whole, this series is still a winner. The writing is lush and believable and the setting is amazingly detailed. I used to pretend IKEA was Peshamba (one of the cities featured in the books; I had an active imagination, guise) Many books succeed or fall with their main characters and Claidi is one of those characters who can sustain a story even after it starts to go sour.

Just holding my journal and leaning casually to the side, BEING AWESOME.

The Silverwing series by Kenneth Oppel. Okay, just first off. Did you know this guy was pen pals with Roald Dahl and got published at fifteen?! He's like Christopher Paolini, except good! Just kidding, Chris P., you know I admire you, I just can't get into Eragon. 

Silverwing was a great fucking series, excuse my language. It was. It was perfect for a voracious junior high reader. Also, I may have been madly in love with Shade, the main character, who is ... a bat. A bat who saves the world! Hey, true love transcends all boundaries, even SPECIES and FICTIONALITY. The action starts from the first chapter, and it Does. Not. Stop. 

There are three books in this series: Silverwing, Sunwing, and Firewing. I'm going to be honest. You should stop after the second, because I hated the third. The third book focuses on Shade's son, Griffin, and I just did not love Griffin the way I loved his father. Because a lot of the time, books that focus on "the next generation" tend to put a new spin on the main character by giving him/her a hardcore inferiority complex, for whatever reason. Whiny, weak, "I can't measure up to [insert earlier awesome main character here]" MCs piss me off like no other. Also, the ending was just unforgivable. Don't want to spoil it, but I cried for days afterward. On the whole, a memorable series, and worth revisiting. I reread Firewing the other day. Don't know why. Still made me mad, but Oppel's writing has an addictive quality to it.

A very sexy bat.

The Redwall series by Brian Jacques. This may be cheating, as I did not actually finish this series. But let's cut me a break here, shall we? Because Redwall is the SERIES THAT NEVER ENDS. Seriously, at last count (by the numbers on Wikipedia), Redwall is up to 21 books, with the 22nd on its way. Each book is a stand-alone, however, so don't hang back from the land of friendly talking rodents just because you don't want to commit to 20+ books. Redwall is amazing. Brian Jacques is amazing for being able to write solely in this one universe for years. You think he'd get sick of it, but apparently, he has many stories left in his brain yet. 

The stories are well-plotted and action-packed, and the characters are lovable, and not only because they are cuddly and cute. Sword-wielding vermin? COUNT ME IN. In all seriousness, though, there's a reason this is an enduring series for children. It might not be epicly unforgettable like Narnia or Harry Potter, but it's got all the makings of a thrilling adventure for kids. Yeah, I've kind of outgrown it. This isn't to say it's not an enjoyable read at any age. If you don't read anything else in Redwall, you should at least try Mossflower, the second one in the series. Toe-curlingly evil villain? Check. Noble hero? Check. Trickery and battles? Check and check. Of course, I do admit, the reason I stopped was because the plots and characters get kind of repetitive after a while. There are only so many mice you can take before you call it quits. Also, just so you're warned, Redwall is straight-up food porn. I mean, there are pages and pages of description on the food. Apparently, moles can bake a mean pie, and otters have a taste for spicy soups. Like ... what? I don't even know, but I can tell you, the food sounds strangely appetizing. And then I get grossed out that I'm drooling over fictional small-furry-mammal food. Damn you, Brian Jacques. Damn you and your Great Feasts.

Is that Martin or Matthias or Mattimeo? 

IDK because there are 21 books holy shit.

Ringing In The New Year

Back from vacationing in San Diego, and this is my first post of 2011. Woo hoo! Four things, because I've gotten excessively good at lists and excessively bad at everything else.

First book recs of the new year:

1) The Golden Compass! Read it on my flights and it was amazing. Where have I been my whole life? IDEK. The last half of the book totally blew me out of the water. Few books rarely have me connecting so well with the main character, but I was on the same page as Lyra through everything. Definitely an exhilarating ride. I have to say, this series reminds me a lot of The Wolf Tower series by Tanith Lee. Remember when that was popular? Remember? The science fiction and human experimentation stuff draws some parallels. Plus, I think Lyra and Claidi resemble each other strongly in personality, although Lyra is a more universally reader-friendly character. Looking forward to digging into The Subtle Knife and I'll have to order The Amber Spyglass, but NO PROBLEM because I am now a Borders Plus Member (free shipping with orders!). Yeah, I just fell into a new category of lame.

2) Not The End Of The World by Geraldine McCaughrean. This was pubbed in 2004, so not a new release. I discovered it in the good old library. I think the title is sort of childish and stupid, but whatever. It's a retelling of Noah's Ark and the flood. I am a huge fan of multiple POVs, and this book does it fantastically without overdoing it and giving Every Single Character a voice. Much, much love. It's beautifully written too. Short read. Something you could easily finish in several hours. Check it out!

Disclaimer: Completely unintentional, but both of my first 2011 recs are ... how do I put it ... a little blasphemous if you're easily offended by that sort of thing. I'm sure you're all familiar with why His Dark Materials is sacreligious blah blah. Not The End of The World is putting a new spin on a Bible story and it is not a flattering retelling. I personally do not find fiction offensive most of the time, because it's fiction. It's really hard for me to get riled up about something that was created imaginatively. Buuuut, I thought I'd warn you, in case it wasn't already obvious.

Onto other things.

3) I am making a New Years Resolution to be a better blogger this year. Two posts a week, I'mma try REALLY HARD. Especially since I am nearing the two-year anniversary of the start of this blog (I might treat myself to some delicious, expensive, otherwise-unjustifiable food as a celebration and maybe some clothes because I can always find an excuse to buy new clothes) and I want to hit the two-year on a good blogging note. I have gotten loads better since then, which is great, and the whole reason I started blogging, so that I wouldn't slack off on my writing. Which leads me to point number four.

4) I'm starting over on The Forever City. By which I mean, I'm totally dumping it and rewriting from scratch with new characters and a new setting and a new plot, but it is still a retelling of The Water Horse of Barra. I had about 15,000 words on TFC -- utterly pathetic, I know -- and I am very happy with what I have. It's great. But I got a better idea and I think I could do more with it. I'm not upset, and I certainly don't feel like I wasted my time. I never feel like anything I write is a waste of time, which is probably why I have over half a million words saved in various places on my computer. I mean, I have at least 50,000 of just fan fiction extras that I never posted. But everything is a learning experience, and that's why I save everything.

The only thing I am unhappy about is the sparse amount of writing that I ended up getting done the second half of 2010. Writing, while being painful and time-consuming and utterly UN-FUN while it is happening, is evidently integral enough of a part of me that my life feels tragically incomplete when I'm not writing on a regular basis. So here. I'm going to make a goal to write at least 2,000 per week. That's not hard. I wrote 1,700 words per day for 30 days straight in November '09, and I used to write 1,000 words per day. Even though my life is much busier now than it was when I started blogging, I think 2,000 per week is a doable goal. And in the end, it will probably make me a much happier person. I remember when I used to walk 30 minutes to spend the day at the library writing on Saturdays. Now, that was probably because I had nothing else to do my freshman year because see below, my freshman year sucked. But I was happy as a clown on Saturdays. Now, I'm all, "Mehhh, it's too cold to haul my ass somewhere and write and I can't do it in my apartment because I'm distracted and I have homework mehhhh." I need to stop being LAZY and COMPLACENT. 

So, let's make 2011 a good year, shall we? My horoscope tells me that 2011 is a great year to write a book. No, really, it says that for Leo, in those words. You funny, horoscope. You funny. 

Happy New Year!