ladymirth: (self-destruct)
It's ten minutes to midnight and I've been staring at the blank word document on my screen for the past hour. Inspiration does not strike. I can't bear to mar the endless possibilities that blank white page holds by defacing it with a single word. I just know that whatever I write and however I write it, I'll never do justice to the beautiful idea that has formed in my head, fragile as a butterfly newly emerged from its chrysallis.

My fingers freeze over the keyboard and a cold panic grips me. I stare at the page in terror, nearly hyperventilating. The guy who dreamt up this scheme of writing a novel in thrity days flat, no editing and no revising along the way, is a born fool who knows nothing about novelling. Storytelling isn't some sort of sport, for Chrissake! It's an art. A careful craftmanship where ham-handed carelessness can destroy the most precious potential. You can't just charge into it like a bull elephant in a china shop, with no idea where you're going or what you're doing. You could ruin your story. Just ruin it, so the beauty that shines in your mind's eye like a crystal star will lie in heartbreaking shambles before you're a third of the way through. That's what you're risking here. Without the perfect word and the perfect turn of phrase and the perfect timing...why even try if the end result will never be as perfect the picture that exists in your mind? 

The page stares blankly at me. 

I stare back at it, willing the perfect words to spew from my fingertips onto the keys. 

My fingers quiver nervously over the keyboard. The page is still blank. 

My story beats its fists against my skull, pounding an agony at my temples, fighting to be let loose into the world. 

The page is still blank. 



ladymirth: (bunny)
There are three things standing between me and my NaNo:

1) I keep trying to incorporate several plots into one story, or write several stories at once.

2) The lack of food is making my fingers go numb and I keep wanting to barf.

3)A plot! I do not haz it!

Hmmm.  
ladymirth: (bunny)
It's official. I'm NaNo-ing.

Word Count: 1677.
Plot: No idea. Well a glimmering of one. Just seeing where my fingers will lead me.
Genre: Batman. Nolanverse AU. Mystery, adventure and Romance. Violence, profanity and porn will be possibly be involved, for my enjoyment.  Hetfic, I think, because I'd have to be really insane to try slash on my first try. 
Rating: R if not NC-17 
Title: Dude, I don't even have a plot! 

Here it is, if you wanna see. Character voices are non-existent, so I'll probably have to re-write the whole dadgum thing from scratch during edits (if I ever get that far). For now, however, I'm not looking back! Whee! 

More poems

Oct. 26th, 2008 05:01 pm
ladymirth: (bunny)
 I'm really on a roll today.

Do you know where you’re going? 
Do you know where you are?
Do you remember why you’re doing
The things that you are
And if you don’t, is it satisfying
To breathe one moment to the next
And call it good living
With no meaning beyond that?
Without a cause who are we?
But another inconsequential 
Without want of a cause, what are we?
Other than shadows insubstantial 
If all the treasures of the earth
Were bequeathed alone to you
To your spirit, what is it worth?
Without a dream to pursue

Trite, isn't it? The next one's better, but disturbing. 

A Misanthropic Rant
All you cursed human animals
Your gut a-roiling with gluttonous fire
You’ll consume yourself out of house and home
Trying to quench your thirst with more desire 
Do you know the hunger that drives you?
That subsides with pretty trinkets
No more satiating than the smell of wine
Is to the raving drunkard
You’ll eat the earth and lay havoc in the skies
Blot out the stars with the very smog
Of your efforts to reach them; yet never ask why
The knowledge of a gaseous bog 
Has greater import than a baby’s cry
Crawling abandoned over inedible stones
As overhead, birds of carrion fly
Waiting to strip his starving bones
Drop a penny in a beggar's bowl
An investment in your halo
It’ll not keep his body nor your soul
But you’re still a jolly good fellow

...
I'm too young to be that cynical. 






Insomnia

Oct. 26th, 2008 04:35 pm
ladymirth: (bunny)
When every thought feels like
It’s been thought before
Worse! Thought by other men
Present and of yore
And all new ideas another
Tangle and twist in the string
Of this game of cat’s cradle
That we call ‘thinking’
The brain keeps a-whirring
Smokes of wisp-like thought
Like a sewing machine hammering
With neither thread nor on cloth
Where is the off switch?
That my mind may cease
Have all futility done with
And succumb to sweet sleep

Feedback, anyone? 
ladymirth: (bunny)
I mentioned I'm going to write a Nolanverse Batman fanfic for NaNoWriMo. Actually, it's going to be an AU Nolanverse fic, because ever since I came out of the theater after having watched The Dark Knight, there was one thought in my head - Harvey shouldn't have died that way. This has a lot to do with my set-in-stone views about what constitutes superhero movies (you can make it as gritty and realistic as you bloody want as long as the good guys win, damn it) and even more to do with my crush on Aaron Eckhart's character. Also the fact that I started shipping Bruce/Harvey since the dinner scene. XD 

I have several stories in mind, and Harvey and Rachel are alive in all of them. There are ways to keep the existential angst up and running without blowing up people (who aren't even Katie Holmes) as plot devices, IMO. There is no reason Harvey can't still struggle with multiple personality disorder even without getting half his pretty, pretty, Robert Redford face blown to shit. The Long Halloween says so. 

minor to major spoilers for anyone who still hasn't watched The Dark Knight. (Do they even exist?) )

On a side note, I realize I have never mentioned that Batman Begins is my favourite movie of all time. Seeing as this is despite the presence of Katie Holmes (from whom my soul has recoiled in horror since her Dawson's Creek days) and the existence of Peter Jackson's cinematic masterpieces on this earth, it is a pretty high compliment. I fangirl it worse than the writers of Cracked.com do. 

So, uh, to come back to my NaNoWriMo plots. I have decided to stick to Nolanverse and operate free of the comics canon, mostly because the comics were giving me a headache. And don't even talk to me about Batman Beyond, unless it's to tell me where to send my therapist's bills. However, that doesn't mean I'm not going to let myself bodily lift plots and storylines from be influenced by the comics. 

I've mapped about ten stories that takes place one after the other, starting from a post AU TDK setting. Here they are: 

Beware of rabid plot bunnies within. )


There is nothing that necessitates me writing the stories in order of continuity, and I'm quite certain I'll never be able to write all of them. So your ideas and opinions would be appreciated. =) Also, if any of the plot bunnies strike your fancy, please feel free to take. 

Now all I have to do is contemplate actually writing any of this stuff without freaking out. 

*privately mourns Rose/ Scorpius story* 
ladymirth: (bunny)
Less than two weeks to NaNoWriMo, and I just axed my long-planned Rose/ Scropius story in favour of a Batman one.  

*chews nails*

I must have been crazy to sign up for this. 
ladymirth: (sam potter)
With a parody.

Title: Lazarus Rising Parody Recap.
Author: Me
Rating: R for language.
A/N: Parodies are apparently hard things to write. Hopefully I managed to be funny. Do not get pissed off, I only mock because I love.

I think I saw a Disney movie like this once... )
Reviews are appreciated! =)
 
ladymirth: (responsible adult)
I've gone and signed up for my first NaNoWriMo. I know it's insanely early, but now I have one and a half months to come up with a plot. Or a story idea, for that matter.

*meep* WhathaveIdoneWhathaveIdoneWhathaveIdone?

Anybody else thinking of joining? 
 
ladymirth: (bunny)
I don't often write poetry, but this just popped into my head this morning, and I thought I'd put it up. Hope it's not too confusing. I don't know whether it's any good, but I'd sure appreciate tips and criticism!




The Truth

“Love all-conquering, love all-conquered,
Fight, hold tight; the righteous be rewarded”
So preach fools to the children, innocent, unknowing
That lovers old and young have keened undying
That no cure is found for a shattered heart’s aching
That some nightmares will bear no awakening
That the only law carrying the triumphal arch,
Is ashes to ashes; Death’s inexorable march
Where the wise consign to the eternal plough,
The song of life continues, my love,
When with no thought of you, I greet the dawning
And know the silence of lost love forsaking.

ladymirth: (bunny)

My muse visited very suddenly this evening, bearing a delicious Ron/Hermione missing moment one-shot with her. Of course I jumped on it. But halfway through writing it, this little ancedote wrote itself. I swear! It's not much, a PWP drrabble-like thing, really, but it amused me, so I'm going to post it up here just for kicks. 

We all grieved when Harry's phoenix wand snapped in two, but what about the wand Hermione lost? 

ladymirth: (clark dish)

 

Flist, dears, I really need your opinion on something.

 Once upon a time, I had an overdue assignment for Composition class on a most inane subject. I hurriedly jotted something down half a hour before class, gave it in, and forgot about it. Later, one of my friends happened to glance through my portfolio and was particularly struck by that essay. “Rolling around laughing” was the exact phrase she used. Now, I had a lot of other articles in that essays folder which I had lovingly and meticulously crafted, and the fact that she preferred this piece of junk from among the lot of them left me stymied and mystified. I hadn’t even meant it to be that funny in the first place. Apart from the occasional snark, I wrote it as a run-of-the-mill, let’s-get-it-over-with puff piece.

 

My friend told me that light-hearted humour was my forte and natural style, much more than heavy exposition and top-heavy angst. I don’t know how to take that piece of advice, especially as it seems lately like the only time people find me funny is when I don’t really try to be. Even now I can’t see anything very good about this essay.

 

So, for the sake of my potential career as a writer, I really need to know what YOU think about it. Is my friend a nut, or am I missing something about my own writing? Should I ditch the in-depth analysis and try and make money by snarking without really meaning to? What areas do I need to improve on?

 

I love constructive criticism and will send cyber-chocolate for anybody who is wonderful and brave enough to tell me, “Hasini, now this part kinda sucks.” The worst that can happen is I will at least know I can trust my judgment about my own writing.

 

Here it is, folks. Pleeease drop me a line telling me what you think! *wags tail*

 

Warning: Hardcore shippers may be insulted.

 

Assignment 3

 

Q: Write an essay in which you classify the types of romance in today’s television shows.

 

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