Authoring

I feel like it should be spelled ‘authouring’. I’m just so used to changing ‘or’ to ‘our’ in words (all those pesky Americanisms). :P

Anyhow, I didn’t know what to write about today. I thought I was going to write about Eurovision, but it’s really been the same as usual. Britain stagnated in the middle of the leader board. There were some crazy set designs, Poland relied on their ‘natural beauty’ to win votes, and a drag act won. Nothing much different.

If you don’t know what Eurovision is, this sums it up quite nicely:

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Anyhow, today I’m going to talk about authoring. Or perhaps that should be writing. I don’t think I’ve earned the right to call myself an author yet, as I am not published. ;(

It’s quite sad what I’ve become. I’ve actually considered putting myself in a story, flaws and all, because I think that readers would sympathise with my complex, conflicting characteristics, my multi-faceted personality, and my general likeability. 

Scratch that, if I didn’t value my privacy (or plot for that matter) I would genuinely spill all about my life on some random website, because I think people would be very interested (even though nothing actually happens). And it would be very detailed. It would literally be a live stream of my thoughts in real time. I kind of want to write a diary, leave it in an attic, pass away, have it discovered by my great great grandchildren, get it published, and have everyone marvel at my angst.

The thing is that I haven’t actually written in my novel for around a month. SO WHY DO I KEEP NARRATING THINGS IN MY HEAD (no not in a schizophrenic way)?

I’ll just be walking around with this inner monologue running through my head.

Joe ambles into his kitchen and finds a small compartment filled with apples, oranges and other fruits. After pausing a while, he selects the apple he thinks is the shiniest. Unsatisfied, he wipes the apple against his shirt, but it’s missing that all important sparkle. Forlorn, he shuffles away, his quest for the shiniest apple forever unaccomplished.

It’s even worse when I’m speaking with someone. I end up thinking all the “he said”s and “she said”s as I’m speaking. It’s madness!

What I’m worried will happen is that I will accidentally say these things out loud.

“Oh hey Joe!”

“Hey Ieremias (thank you Random Name Generator), Joe said, wondering if he could punch him in the face without anyone noticing.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Joe said, trying to look innocent.”

Ieremias backs away slowly.

Help me… please.

Joe

P.S. I think it’s a week until this blog’s anniversary! Stay tuned. EDIT: Just realised I have 4000 views! Woo hoo! Hopefully more on this soon.

P.P.S. I’m still doing the schedule thing, but now I have more flexibility as to the days – as long as I blog three times a week, it’s all good. ;)

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OT: Pens

From the person who brought you essay-length posts such as ‘CHOICE OF BEVERAGE’, ‘CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE ALLERGIC KIND’, and ‘TOOTHPASTE: ORIGINS’ comes an excitingly mundane stream-of-consciousness post called…

PENS!

OK, I think the whole concept of OT posts was to take the extremely run of the mill and make it vaguely interesting. Recently they’ve gotten a bit generic, talking about my hobbies and quirks – they’ve gotten away from their original intent… So I thought I would spice things up a little. Or rather, make things a little blander. :P Prepare yourself for the most melodramatic piece you have read for a while. And it’s on pens.

***

If I had the choice, I would always use pencils. They’re better in almost every way… they a) have erasability, b) don’t smudge in water (much), c) won’t run out of ink and d) have a bigger, and therefore better, range of colours. Alas, society frowns on extremists who hold such views.

I remember in primary school (elementary school for y’all Americans) it was a massive deal to be allowed to write with a pen. Until around Yr 3, you could only write in pencil as your handwriting wasn’t neat enough to use a Biro. I think the logic was that little kids used pencils so they could rub out their mistakes. I was one of the first in my year to move up to a pen, which will surprise many people, as… well, you’ll see.

Though in the beginning, I loved the sense of superiority using a pen gave me, my work did become a lot scruffier when I couldn’t just rub things out. I write things down without stopping to think, which is why typing is great because I can cross things out without you knowing. The only vestige of my pencil using days was Maths lessons. One of the weirdest things when starting secondary school was discovering they used pens for their maths work. Madness. Absolute madness.

I recently started using new-fangled erasable pens, and they were really great… but also really expensive, and slightly addictive. My neatness improved dramatically, but they don’t last long and are really inefficient for the price, so I gave them up a month ago. I would be lying if I said I haven’t looked back, but it’s been worth it. Today, I am officially erasable pen free for… well I used one today, so a few hours. But I’m improving.

My handwriting has been the subject of much debate. It has been variously described as ‘massive’ and ‘illegible’ by classmates, ‘unique’ and ‘flowing’ by some of my teachers (this is not a lie and I have the reports to prove it) and ‘a chicken’s scrawl’ by my sister. It may have been ‘a dead chicken’s scrawl’, but I can’t really remember. Personally, I think I have two styles of writing, which I will call ‘unique and flowing’, for my homework when I’m being obsessive,  and ‘a dead chicken’s scrawl’ for rough notes. My general style is somewhere between the two, but tending towards the dead chicken’s scrawl, even more so in timed tests. I am unaware of teaching qualifications, but I am sure that somewhere there’s a course on reading handwriting.

This will be wrapped up quickly as it is very late. I hope you enjoyed the post. :3

Joe.

Operation Toothpaste II: Hobbies!

So I haven’t posted for a week. For that I am sorry. This was due to both my laziness and my busy… schedule. I’m not joking. July weeks are nightmares for my mum, who has to organize all the events that happen right next to each other. I may post about this tomorrow. ;) But I did have plenty of opportunities, perhaps especially for Andy Murray winning Wimbledon (77 years! I really should have posted, now I feel guilty).

So for this week I would like to have one more, dare I say it, foundation level of Toothpaste, before we get into the nitty gritty, the entertaining details. Though to be fair, a layer of toothpaste on which to build a house is pretty unstable… For those of you who don’t know what Toothpaste is, click here.

I digress. It’s time for…

Operation Toothpaste Edition II: Hobbies!

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