Hey, I don't know if anyone will actually see this, but I'm back on LJ now. I'm just hanging out somewhere else:


Yumeza

(image by the ever talented yonjuunana)

It's the sort of thing that's perfect for people who like that sort of thing.

Also, I'm completely not the same person who used to write in this thing. It's been how long? 62 weeks. More than a year, and one hell of a year at that.

My brain only has room for so many social networks, and it seems like everyone is on facebook now, so that's where I'm headed. I'll still watch this space for news occasionally, but if there's some other way you want to stay or get back in touch, leave a comment here and I'll get it in my email.

There are a few things out there that are really compelling to me. I behold them and I see something significant enough to think about for a while. I pick it apart into little pieces and build other things out of those pieces, I try variations on themes and I re-envision things from different perspectives.

But with all of these parts and variations there are too many ways to put them together to know where to begin. I draw inspiration from a Celestial Being of Indeterminate Origin, who shows me the words to frame the ideas around, which parts to use and how to put them together.

Tags: hparts&crafts, what do you have to say?, writer's block

I have a couple of stories up now at microfiction clearingsite http://www.365tales.com/ and I expect to put up a few more. I still also contribute to http://ninemin.com/ on a semi-regular basis. Semi regularly meaning about every third post is mine, but three posts don't come around that often.

They Might Be giants, famous for their sort
Were instrumental in my budding youth
To my discovery of music's charms
They may not quite have been the very first
But that one's lost to memory, I think
And they were different from the ones before
They stuck with me, and struck me, soon I found
I listened to no other bands but them
Though now I am ashamed when looking back
How blind I was, to think that they could be
The band that everyone of worth would like
Oh they're not bad, I still enjoy at times
To listen to their songs, and hum their tunes
But I was so involved, so committed
To just one band, it's silly but it's true
And now I listen to so many that
I can't believe I ever thought to think
That they were all that special after all
Except that to me they were something else
And something I still treasure to this day

Tags: hpmusic, what do you have to say?, writer's block

With myself, with the world, and with nothing in particular. Watching people throw work away reminds me I do it myself, and nothing comes out the way I planned. But not all bad, I got this out of it:

For what it's worth, I'll thank you all the same
For what you've given, what you've yet to give
And do not doubt I will recall your name

When I am older, lacking life to live
And thinking back, I'll maybe think of you
For what you've given, what you've yet to give

And then recall the things I used to do
To pass the hours that I used to pass
And thinking back, I'll maybe think of you

You lack something critical, alas
And so I may not have much longer left
To pass the hours that I used to pass

By reading what you've written, now bereft
Of what you used to give, You'll take it all
And so I may not have much longer left

To still enjoy these things, at end of fall
You threaten to remove it, for what cause?
Of what you used to give, you'll take it all

The reason for so doing gives me pause
Your own doubts as to how well you can do
You threaten to remove it, for what cause?

I still can hope, though, that you'll soon push through
Your own doubts as to how well you can do
For what it's worth, I'll thank you all the same
And do not doubt: I will recall your name

I would be very pleased if people would kindly tear the following story to pieces. My initial feeling is that the first two parts are disjointed but well put together, the second part ends too abruptly, and the third part reads like a self-important parody of the bible.

Any tips?

http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=dcgsft5q_19fjn4vs

Boy does it feel weird to have finished something. Not good, not really, since now there's the hundred kinds of dread about how it will be received. Just different, since I haven't finished anything in a long time. Because it doesn't feel good to finish things. Which is how it's supposed to feel, dammit.

Almost. I absolutely LOVED about 99% of the first 300 pages don't make sense until 300 pages in, and IMHO they just aren't as well written as the other half, but then something changes and there's a lot of writing. And my head *still* hurts.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the vast swaths of white space in my schedule.

Monday/Wednesday
2-4 - Music of Western Culture

4-5 - Intro to Sociology

Tuesday/Thursday/Friday/Saturday/Sunday
9-11 - Bubkes
11-3 - Nada
3-5 - Zilch

A real, honest to god maze with short passages written at the ends of passages. Every dead end is a page, and every path is a story, or a facet of the story. Living hyperfiction.