I'm actually learning from last year's NaNo catastrophe. D:

Last year I was pretty disorganized for NaNo. I had no outline, no planning whatsoever, some haphazard research, and no clear and concise form of organizing my writing. I wrote in random sections of notebooks in Chemistry class and did a word count by hand. As such, when I typed it up, my word count was way short of what I thought it was. In frustration, I wrote the final 10,000 words in one night, about a week before the end of the month.

Fun but not fun at the same time. Sleep is nice.

This year, I have a well-organized spreadsheet to keep my characters straight, an outline [currently unfinished], and a brand new notebook devoted to NaNo that will one day have my completed spreadsheet and outline taped to the cover, for handy reference.

And I do like the idea of outlining a novel. Makes life SO much easier.

Hurm. *ponders*

Maybe this NaNo will finally be the break in my annoying cycle of novel-writing.

Teague
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I am making this journal active for NaNoWriMo.

More details later.

Peace and love.
Teague
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The beauty in life, where's it gone?

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My great-grandmother offered me my choice of her vast collection of teddy bears. I neither have a want nor need for teddy bears. I don't like taking things from people. That's not who I am. In fact, oftentimes I'll be at a friend's house and they'll offer me food or drink and I'll decline because I don't want to take anything from them. Silly, I know, but I'd rather be thirsty/hungry. It's my problem, not theirs.

But she played the sentiment card on me -- "I'd rather see you take it now and be happy than you take it after I'm dead." That will get me every time. So I took an unobtrusive little brown bear, and I feel guilty every time I look at the damned thing. Maybe when she moves to Amethyst I can sneak it back into her collection. She's going to be ninety-one in two weeks; I doubt she'll notice.

The assisted living home she's at is going to be history soon. They've mistreated her out the yin-yang, and next weekend she's moving. I never trusted the place to start with; the new place gives me a much nicer vibe. Plus the bloke who showed us around -- very nice bloke named Brad -- was the same height as Craig Ferguson so I was busy picturing how short I would look next to Craig. xD I am such a fruit.

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I have realised that the inherent problem of living with my mother every other week is that she is highly extroverted while I am highly introverted. I cannot take the level of socializing that she lives with. And she is always on the phone, always with someone, always in contact. And I'm constantly being dragged into that.

I can't stand it. I want to go into my cave and hide for a while. I cannot take people, especially at this constant of an influx for this long. No. More. Freaking. People. Let me be a loner in peace. Please. What little sanity I have left cannot take it. Buzz. Off.

At least I'm done working for the week and tomorrow I will be at my dad's where I can have some bloody space.

Also, my mother is an unbearable narcissist and it is rubbing off on me. And I notice it and I hate it and AAGH. If I ever talk about myself too much, please please please stop me. I'm sick of how annoying to myself I am. I'm sick of how similar to her I am. I do not want to be her. I don't want anythign to do with her or her family or anything she stands for. It is the antithesis of me.

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I am tired and stinky and I really need a shower [I've been sacrificing my morning one so I can sleep? d'oh] and I need to do my APUSH homework and I. Hate. Being. At. My. Mum's.

And if I ever need to be in an assisted living home as a resident, someone please kill me.

I need to clean/do laundry/finish APUSH & Physics homework today.

Strangely, I just wanna sing.

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Writing/Art Department

Ahoy Insanity: Ran some main characters through the Mary-Sue test, and they all scored fairly low. Hooray. Finished main character bios and moved on to major-minor ones. Still haven't come up with better climax.

Dirt in My Own Grave: *whistles innocently*

Other: Wrote the ant poem, nearly died laughing at Karina reading *way* too far into it.

Art: Finished line unit final, unfortunately the green marker slipped and ruined the whole thing. It was so pretty, too.

I am in so much physical pain for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

My scoliosis is flaring. My back hurts like there's a 2-ton weight pressing on it. I can feel the unevenness in my shoulders. I do not want to have to have surgery to fix it if it keeps getting worse but I am incapable of sitting up straight to stop it from getting worse.

I can also feel intense muscle pain where my legs meet my body -- all around, both legs. It hurts to sit, it hurts to walk, it hurts to move. My left knee hurts and has been hurting. The doctor says it's nothing, but I don't believe it. My right hand is just incredibly... just ow. I can feel it in my pinkie. And dammit it can't hurt because I need to finish my art project. My legs hurt. My ankles hurt.

I don't play sports. I got a ride home today instead of walking. I don't physically exert myself to this kind of extent.

My body feels like it's falling apart.

What is going on.

Teague
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Physics today was extremely interesting. The class started off with a discussion about that proton acclerator thingummy in Europe that they just turned on for the first time. Mr. Matson had a video clip made by some of the scientists who must have been high or something -- it was a rap song & video, LOL. They were like, dancing in lab coats around the machinery. It was interesting. The whole class spent like, four minutes crowded around one computer screen watching this thing in dumbfounded amusement.

The discussion continued for a few more minutes, and somehow turned to a vehement discussion about Sarah Palin and all the presidential gobbledygook going on right now. That lasted about ten more minutes, and the first half of the class is gone.

I think I paid attention to what Mr. Matson was saying for about five minutes. I don't remember how we came to this, but Robert and I started talking about the squares of numbers, and we ended up figuring the square of 42 by hand. But we still had time left, so we spent the rest of the class period figuring out the fourth power of 42 -- 3,111,696 or something like that, if you're interested.

Yeah. It was awesome.

And in English, we were reading a play, and our group cast Angela as two roles who ended up talking to each other, so she was talking to herself for a good several minutes. In all irony, amongst her lines was "I'm perfectly sane."

Yeah. Today was kind of awesome.

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Writing/Art Department

Ahoy Insanity: Outlined up to Chapter 9, where I froze because I still have not thought up a better climax. Yeah. I've also been working on character profiles because there are some details I need to note and not forget.

Dirt in My Own Grave: Absolutely nothing.

Other: Been pondering a bit more about my poem from the perspective of an ant. That's about it.

Art: Have to take my line unit final home because I didn't have time to finish it in class. Gonna kill Black Marker #2 tonight.

Drove to school for the very first time today. Kinda proud of myself, even though I took the turn onto 55th a bit too fast and forgot to check for pedestrians on 27th and Rose Garden.

That last one came back to haunt me. Turns out my good friend Tosan was hit by a car in that very intersection on Friday. She was hospitalized with a left temple fracture. It could have killed her.

All because of a careless mistake I very well could have repeated.


...Guilty conscience is a bitch.

+++

Michael Phelps could give Dumbo a run for his money in the ears department.

And his face looks like it froze when he hit puberty.

And no, I do not care about the rest of his body. It doesn't talk or think. Not very interesting.

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Writing/Art Department

Ahoy Insanity: Outlined to Chapter 5 during a few spare minutes in Physics. Decided on some new symbolism and some new angles for the story.

Dirt in My Own Grave: Contemplated the Benjamin-Karina storyline. Failed. Yeah.

Other: Decided on the bus that a poem from the perspective of an ant is in my future. Wrote an introspective thing about what was going through my mind when I learned about Tosan.

Art: Apparently, I have 151% in art class. I am nowhere near that talented.
 

Ohai! I'm Teague. If you're here, you're likely from the Young Writers Society, where I am known as Saint Razorblade. So hello, friend! =D

It has been *so* long since I've had to introduce myself anywhere. xD Zomg. I've been on YWS too long. October 16th will mark 2 years. D:

I'm old.

Anyway! Writerly things.

Currently, I have two main projects, Ahoy Insanity and Dirt in My Own Grave.

Ahoy Insanity: Is actually going to be my NaNo if I don't come up with another plot in time. I started this story a while ago but hawked it when I realized it was crap and I didn't want to write it anymore. After much pressure from those who shall remain unnamed (but their initials are Suzanne, Jared, and Sam) I've decided to hesitantly overhaul it for NaNo '08. It is about a girl who has a major speech problem and a major attitude problem and a boy who recently was burned on the left half of his face who can't accept what's happened to him. Outcast by their peers, it's only natural that these two would unite. They quickly learn, however, that they can't stand each other. But they know they must stand together if they're to make a difference in their lives. Funtimez, right? Yeah, I threw it aside because of the corny climax I had planned. It made me want to vomit. It still does.

Dirt in My Own Grave: I started this NaNo '07 as a *totally* different story than it is now. It originated as the story of a Scottish alcoholic recounting his years under the influence, but I scrapped that particular approach because one, it lacked subplots, and two, filling in all that time was difficult. Now, the story goes backwards and focuses more on the treatment aspect of addiction. I also introduced two additional storylines, one of which intertwines with the original in a new way. One of the storylines follows an anorexic Canadian teenager on her journey to recovery, and the other follows two siblings in Hollywood, one of whom is a very famous actor and is sent to compulsory rehab for possession of crack cocaine. I like this new version a lot more; however, it's fallen to a standstill as I have realized that doing your research before you start writing is kind of a big deal.

I also write sporadic short stories. Not much in the way of poetry, and what poetry I do write is usually written on the bus and will stay in a dark corner of a notepad in my backpack forever. I'm not a very good poet. I also do a little bit of art. Only what my art class requires because I kind of suck.

Bah. Now I feel like I actually need to *write* something.

Peace and love,
Teague
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