Crysalis
I can be strong and tender.

Oh oh, what have we done today?
And will it hurt all of the other days?
And even though I never asked for something better
Than you ever could give to me
Couldn't help but feel there might be something more...
north by majandra delfino

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Friday, September 09, 2005

Dude, Dude, Dude, Dude!!!!!

Where's My Car?

Just kidding about the second sentence, but really!! I am too amazed and thankful today. I know for a fact that I was dead tired yesterday after waking at 10:30 am after having gone to bed at 4 am(I need my 9 hours still), but I couldn't go to sleep last night. I did have a headache for a while from fatigue, but after I ate dinner, it went away so I, too my chagrin, remained up for a while. I finally got up from the computer around 2-ish because I knew I should go to bed, only to find that I wasn't tired. So I picked up my spiral notebook and started scribbling down a few more ideas on my Bronte inspired WIP. And then I scrapped it and was up until 5 am writing down a torrent of ideas--a rough synopsis really--of this WIP. And the thing about it is, is that I am not allowing what I think should happen in the story to be written down, but what the characters demand should happen be written down. This WIP is not a romance novel but I felt myself pushing for it to become one because the genre is so familiar to me. But it's not. There is some romance in there(I hope), but it's not the main focus of the journey of the character. I was reminded a bit of Megan Chance's The Inconvenient Wife, but it really isn't like that at all.

As I was typing down a list of books to check out from the library(it's a long list, 10 pages worth of books), I found myself surfing my favorite website, Wikipedia, and on a whim typed in Emily Dickinson's name(maybe it was a response to watching "Never Kill a Boy on the First Date" earlier) and read her bio. And then the Brownings came into view on a list of library books to check-out. And then I had a flash of inspiration: a dark haired, dark eyed, somberly attired thirty-something young woman scribbling furiously at her desk. I had to know who she was, where she lived, what she was writing. And then the Bronte family sprang to my attention. And I began to scribble furiously in my own notebook.

I admit that I'm a little scared to write this novel because it really hits so close to home, though I and she are worlds and generations apart. But I've got to do it, if not for the pure catharsis of it, but for the sake of my protagonist. It will be a blessing for me to be able to write something that no one else is writing or thinking of writing and to be able to complete it.


i can be. anything.
9.9.05

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