Inner Monologue

Working on a little something for dA, hopefully I'll be able to finish it and get it up within the week, but it's looking to be one of the longes. Feels so good to work on Artemis again. What little of it I seem to be able to work on.

She attempted a smile, “It’s a great excuse to not have to wear a pacoima.”

Kamen’s face brightened, pacoimas were something that he had come into contact with (albeit not physical contact), and he was slightly happy to finally be on the subject of something he could identify, “Oh, right, pacoimas are those….” His voice trailed off with a certain level of horror, realizing exactly the sort of clothing a pacoima was.

Artemis stifled a laugh, “Go on.”

“No. We are not having this conversation.”

“I think it would be amusing to hear you talk about corsets.”


NAH BRAH.

DUN WANNA TALK ABOUT UNDERWEARS.

NEWP.

For the month of December I'm supposed to be taking a break from writing. I feel a little empty about it with all things considered, I've gotten into the habit of just tapping away at a document whenever I can that I feel strange not working on anything.

So instead I'm looking over the two books that I pushed out over the past two months. I decided to start with Gale since I seem to be in the swing of things. Well its going okay enough...but the more I look at this book the more I realize I wrote something completely heart-wrenching.

The basic idea of the book is to show how the villain became what he is, and ORIGINALLY the idea was that the biggest cause was the relationships Gale had with Marley and Mary, and how somehow it became warped into something with Adam...now looking at it, I think it was really Ritz. How awful.

It had been raining, something that I had long since shrugged off. I could not catch any illness from the rain, it was merely the smallest of hindrances, but Renée came out of her small apartment with an umbrella as if I were about to fall over.

“Monsieur DeWinter, you will catch your death!” She rushed over to me with the umbrella, coughing on her own the entire way over to me in the downpour.

“If only.” I said slowly. She smiled at me, and I could not help but smile back, happy that she seemed to have either forgiven me or forgotten entirely about our conversation the night prior. Either way, I was glad that she was not cross with me. “I am melting,” I managed.

“I can see that.” She took my arm and began to pull me towards her door.

“Not in the physical sense.”

It's sweet, adorable, Gale's been shut off from most everything up until this point in his life and now he's slowly experiencing emotions and is wonderfully unaware of how to show them or relay them to others. So Ritz saves him, right? Gives him a new lease on life, right?

I'm bordering more now on the idea that Ritz damned him. With all the running around the world the two do in trying to stay away from Marley and Mary, Gale ends up becoming even more twisted. So I now look at this story as something awful and tragic, how Gale and Ritz become hardened and manipulative.

I knew this was going to happen, I don't think I ever saw the story THIS way though.

When I wrote Bastian a year ago I didn't mean for my characters to become this complex...I think that's why I didn't care much for it then.

Winamp is trolling me, TWICE in one day already.

They were a diversion, merely a diversion, and as Adam took a step back in initial horror before reaching for each of the animals and breaking what necks he could reach without spilling any of their blood I made my own attack.

Winamp's choice: Tom Jones -- It's not unusual

Grimacing and seething with pure hatred for me he pulled the knife from my shoulder and began to hack at me with it, slashing and tearing at my throat and chest, and making a desperate attempt to cause me to pull back from him, for he wanted nothing more than to flee in that moment.

Winamp's choice: Micheal Bublé -- Crazy Love

Gale wasn’t interested in leaving the house before Keane and the police arrived, he instead pulled up a chair and sat to the right of Mr. Crawley’s corpse, cigarette in hand, cat in his lap, and sniffing the air curiously every so often. I didn’t stick around to ask him what details his nose was picking up, while he wasn’t bothered with the smell of rotting flesh, I had to rush out of the house for fresh air and the first cigarette in half a month.

Its bad enough scouring the internet for “Necromancy 101”, but its worse when all these sites are citing resources that are in my own library.

I’m going to have to tone down some of the details in the chapters I’m working on, either that or put trigger warnings on them.

Even worse, I’ve been snacking the whole time I’ve been writing.

One of the more recent short stories I've been working on. It looks like the editing for Bastian is going to get a little sketchy due to technical issues, hopefully it won't be held up for very long. We've been making amazing progress on it so far, but playing with the tenses gets quite tedious.

( Excerpt )

( Read more... )
The relationship between these two still gets me curious. I can never really say for certain if Rei has a thing for Nora Sybil or if they really are just good friends. Then again, Rei's facetious enough to be brushed off even if he were telling the truth, which ends up happening a lot between him and Valerie. She just plays along, laughing the whole way.

i almost detect some pity to tell the truth, or even some sort of one-sided emotion on Nora's part. Of course other than the picture Rei keeps in his desk, a few things he says to Kamen, and an all out confession near the end of Book 2, the reader really never knows what's going on in that guy's head.

“I don’t see how any of this is anything other than useless.” Kamen mumbled as he held the tome out at arms length.

“Of course it wouldn’t be useful to you; you’re a Clovinian citizen. You have your own set of rights.”

“What are my rights anyways?”

“On hold, you’re in the military. Your rights are hanging on Rei’s wall…next to your balls.”

Of course the last sentence is getting taken out, but I thought it was a valid point.

Its more something Nancy would say anyways.

I read over a few of the short stories I was pumping out before June 19th, and I realized that the stories definitely have a different feel to them. I actually really, REALLY like the way they flow before June 19th as opposed to the attempts at rewriting the final chapter afterwards.

For example, Of Closets, a short story detailing Kamen and Artemis' childhood and their many blunders, this one detailing a point where the two find themselves locked in a closet. Hilarity ensues.

"It's never dark back home." She said with her voice much softer than it had been during her lecture.

Kamen glanced over to her, standing with her cheek against the door with the vague light from the bottom of the door creeping up and outlining the both of them. "Sunlight all day?"

She shook her head, "No, I mean…well it's never this dark." A small smile made its way across her face, "I suppose it does get dark in the country, but where I live the light from the city is always bouncing off of the buildings. People are awake all day and all night."

"That's silly. Even London sleeps."

"I didn't ask for your opinion. If I wanted it I would have asked." She said coldly, then added in the same tone: "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"Because you steal my food, you petty thief." She poked his chest.

Kamen shrugged, "Yours tastes better than mine." He wrinkled his nose, "How exactly does light bounce from building to building, they're made of brick, aren't they?"

"Different bricks. More like glass. And colored, a lot of the buildings are dark green."

He blinked twice, "That's silly."

"And," She said while glaring at him, her voice self-important, "We have tiny machines that you can listen to music with and talk to people who are far away with, and we have dragonfly machines that you can fly on—"

"And you're crazy."

She rapped the back of her hand on his chest, "You're one to talk, did you forget that we're locked in the closet?"

Of course after posting this I don't even want to show anyone the final chapter. it just doesn't have the same magic the rest of the book does. All poetry is crushed and the passion just isn't there.

If I'm ever going to be able to write like that again I'm going to have to read through ALL of Artemis, as well as probably finish all of the short stories that were started and never finished. Oh god, the Lady Godiva one, I don't even know how I'm supposed to make a conversaition about being naked in public in the 1860's permittable between a 15 year old and an 18 year old.

Yes. Yes, it is that bad.

EDIT: Figured it out: Kamen keeps pushing with borderline lewd comments, Artemis tries to ignore but inevidably ends up hitting him with her book.

Three in one day.

Takes place about a week after the biscuit one. Lilly as a character is hilarious and awesome.

had to research hand pump wells for this one, oh the research, it all has to be chronologically correct.

welp, we all knew this was coming.

( Short Story: Of Daisies )