cinaed: I can whistle through my fingers, bulldog a steer, light a fire with two sticks, shoot a pistol with fair accuracy (Ann Sheridan)
 Trying to work on original stuff for the first time in months...

...Apparently yelling, "Make out already!" at your own characters works even less than it does for fanfic characters. *shakes fist at story* Make outttt. 
cinaed: I can whistle through my fingers, bulldog a steer, light a fire with two sticks, shoot a pistol with fair accuracy (Ann Sheridan)
...mostly because when you're writing fanfic, you already know how the characters will react to other people and various scenarios, and you already know their character voice.

I am working on an original story. Tis only 900 words and it's taken me days to get that much, because this main character a) insists on being in first person, which I'm not used to, and b) has a very distinct voice.

*kicks story and mutters*

...Though I suppose it's still better than studying for my finals. *grin*

Fragment

May. 7th, 2008 01:51 pm
cinaed: I improve on misquotation (Beautiful Ending (Teyla Emmagan))
She sighed. Either there was a black hole in her fridge, or her brother had stolen her leftover Chinese again. She turned and looked into the garbage can. The plastic container with its black message of Andrea's -- DO NOT EAT seemed to mock her.
cinaed: I improve on misquotation (No Good Reason to Act Her Age (Vala))
*looks at the novel I am trying to write, which is still not even a page, though I have 20 pages worth of notes on the world and characters*

...I need to take my Inner Editor behind the house and shoot it. Write and when I'm done, you can tear it apart, inner me! Just not now! A single sentence doesn't need to be agonized over for an entire half-hour! C'mon!
cinaed: I improve on misquotation (Suzu)
Hopefully I'll be able to continue this tomorrow, but right now I'm going to bed.

If she closed her eyes and tilted her head at just the right angle, Alison could taste rainbows. She always laughed at people who told her rainbows didn't have a taste, because she knew they were wrong. Rainbows tasted like perfection, with the subtle blends of color, the tangyness of orange, the spiciness of red. One day, after the rain had soaked her through and the sun was brightly shining, she lifted her arms above her head and began to gulp down rainbows as quickly as she could, unable to keep from twirling in estacy at the tastes that overwhelmed her tongue.

It was then that her family took her to a quiet room where a man with a kindly smile but unkindly voice sat and tossed question after question at her. She remembered how the questions felt like punches.
cinaed: I improve on misquotation (Tumnus)
Well, we seem to have been adopted by a kitty. An adorable one that's...sleeping in my closet. She/he/it just waltzed into our garage the other day and decided to stay. And then decided to come into my house and sleep in my room. Callie and Maggie are unamused, but Mom thinks it's the cutest thing ever. We called the animal shelter and so far no one's reported a black cat missing. Methinks Mom wants to keep it.

Meanwhile, tomorrow I have to go to the school and get my HS transcripts sent over to Radford, and do other stuff that's escaped my brain (something about the Salvation Army and, er, stuff). And then I have to pack and get ready to go back to the hellhole that is Randolph-Macon Woman's. *sighs* I have a new room with a friend, but I am not looking forward to dealing with my crazy ex-roommate for the next semester.

I'm also frustrated with writing. All I can do now is fanfiction, not original, and it's driving me nuts. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't finish a single story that are made up of my characters? I need a recorder, because I say what I want to write and it sounds good, but I go blank as soon as my fingers touch the keyboard and I can't type anything. Argh. And I want to write something. It's this deep frustration that's buried in my chest like a knot and just increases when I touch the keyboard until my kunckles are aching from repressed writing.... Like now. Ow.... *rubs fingers* Guess my rant's over.

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