My phone is once again going through growing pains. Or having an emotional crisis that I, as a human being, cannot possibly comprehend. The issue is this: I am receiving texts, phone calls, and E-Mails, but am unable to send them. Isn't that weird? I've never even HEARD of anyone else having this problem. It's not a huge deal, as since I'm still at the beach I'm virtually unreachable anyway, and I'm getting it fixed tomorrow, but still. It's bothersome.
My friend Kaje sent me the Best. Picture. Ever. Just wanted to state that for the general public.
There are several bathing suit-clad children running around screaming and shooting each other with loud fake guns at the moment. My brother is actually the least violent among them.
I went on my Facebook for the first time in months yesterday. Still don't miss it.
325 pages now. The problem with this book is that it's a lot of things: there's crime, and some mystery, and a good deal of psychological fuckery, and ghosts and romance and lies and death. When people ask me to tell them what I'm writing, I either give them a woefully inaccurate one-sentence answer, or launch into a scene-by-scene retelling, complete with sound effects and hand gestures. The latter tends to leave my audience glazed over and confused. Must work on this.
When you're out playing mini-golf with your mother, brother (10), and three cousins (14, 11, and 10), and the most attractive guy you've ever met starts talking to you and flirting with you, and things are going really well for once, it is a law of nature and physics and probability that your brother will wail a ball that ricochets before finally smashing the attractive guy in the upper thigh. I wish I was kidding. I really, really do. There was a goddamn WELT where the ball hit him. His friend dragged him off to get ice. I fled the scene. My mother won't stop laughing about this.
Otherwise, it's been quiet. I'm enjoying the relative peace. I'm trying to get everyone to go see DARK KNIGHT (again - actually, it would be my third time), and getting mixed results.
Back to writing. And glaring hatefully at my computer. And trying to keep my cousins from eating all the sugar in the kitchen. Damn them.
- LV
My friend Kaje sent me the Best. Picture. Ever. Just wanted to state that for the general public.
There are several bathing suit-clad children running around screaming and shooting each other with loud fake guns at the moment. My brother is actually the least violent among them.
I went on my Facebook for the first time in months yesterday. Still don't miss it.
325 pages now. The problem with this book is that it's a lot of things: there's crime, and some mystery, and a good deal of psychological fuckery, and ghosts and romance and lies and death. When people ask me to tell them what I'm writing, I either give them a woefully inaccurate one-sentence answer, or launch into a scene-by-scene retelling, complete with sound effects and hand gestures. The latter tends to leave my audience glazed over and confused. Must work on this.
When you're out playing mini-golf with your mother, brother (10), and three cousins (14, 11, and 10), and the most attractive guy you've ever met starts talking to you and flirting with you, and things are going really well for once, it is a law of nature and physics and probability that your brother will wail a ball that ricochets before finally smashing the attractive guy in the upper thigh. I wish I was kidding. I really, really do. There was a goddamn WELT where the ball hit him. His friend dragged him off to get ice. I fled the scene. My mother won't stop laughing about this.
Otherwise, it's been quiet. I'm enjoying the relative peace. I'm trying to get everyone to go see DARK KNIGHT (again - actually, it would be my third time), and getting mixed results.
Back to writing. And glaring hatefully at my computer. And trying to keep my cousins from eating all the sugar in the kitchen. Damn them.
- LV
