And I am totally okay with it.
Alison, you’re my favorite little sister. Pay no attention to the fact that you are also my only little sister.
An excerpt from mine and Luke’s gchat earlier today.
Me: I don’t know, my brain isn’t working yet today.
Me: I feel all… blegh… DON’T YOU MAKE THAT FACE AT ME
Me: Your sarcastic, disapproving face.
Me: STOP IT.
Me: I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS.
Me: I’m not talking to you any more.
Me: I’m running away.
Luke: No you aren’t.
Me: You’re right. I’m not. I’m way too lazy to run away.
And today that something is this.
There are no words.
This is obviously a running list.
And it was pretty amazing.
Luke and I went to a craft beer festival at an awesome local museum.
It was pretty crowded, but I still managed to try nine different local beers. And then I ate a cupcake from Twisted Sister Cupcakes for lunch. Because it was my birthday, I’m an adult, and I do what I want.
Then we hung out at the house with some friends, ate dinner at a Jewish deli, and came home and watched a movie.
So, I would most definitely call that a successful birthday.
I was reading this article about the rituals and habits of some famous artists and it got me thinking about my own writing rituals.
I really didn’t think I had any until I actually thought about it some. Turns out I have quite a few rules/superstitions about writing:
I’m sure there are others, but I can’t think of them right now.
There are some really great first lines in literary history.
Call me Ishmael.
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.
Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been stuck on first lines. I subscribe to this completely ridiculous (and completely wrong) superstition that if I don’t start with the right first line, then the rest of my novel is doomed. I know that you can edit things and move things around – but that’s just not the case with first lines. At least not for me. I have to get that perfect first line every time. Not that getting that perfect first line has ever really done much for me in the way of creating a successful and complete novel…
All that being said – this is why I haven’t actually started working on my new novel just yet. That perfect first line is still eluding me.
Well, that and my being incredibly lazy.
But this is his reaction to the opener.
Actually, it’s not his reaction to all the openers (even though all of the ten million seasons of Stargate use the same theme song). He only does it during the Season 4 opener. Because he’s a freak. Obviously.
I made mention of him in my post about The Great Gatsby. I figured I should probably follow that up.
For the longest time, I just couldn’t take Leo seriously as an actor. He looked like he was twelve and he was always dying all over the place. He was the dark spot in what was otherwise one of my most favorite movies, The Quick and the Dead. I just couldn’t forgive him for ruining a perfectly good western.
So, at first, people would be all, “oh, Leo! I love him so much!” And I’d be all:
And then they’d be all, “but he’s so cute!” And I’d be like:
Then things started to escalate and everyone I knew was all, “OMG, he’s such a good actor!” And I was like:
But then I watched Blood Diamond. And I was like:
And then I watched a few other movies. Like The Departed. And Revolutionary Road. And I realized that, now that he looked like an adult human person, I could take him a little more seriously. As it turns out, he’s actually not half bad at his job.
So, now, whenever someone mentions Leo, I’m all:
And that is my story about Leonardo DiCaprio.
And I’m sure there’s more – I just can’t remember it all right now.