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bryarcanium
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Name: Caroline
Country: United States
State: Ohio
Metro: Cincinnati
Birthday: 12/22/1986
Gender: Female
Interests: Writing, music, running, reading, legos, yoga/stretching, computers, programming my calculator, and dancing in the shower. If you're looking for an active blog of mine, check out www.carolineewillis.com
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  changelingpiper
Member Since:
9/15/2005
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| So, the whole getting off the internet has certainly helped. I'm downsizing to just the one blog on my website, carolineewillis.com. Been fun, but the times are a changing. Of course, that doesn't mean I won't xanga-stalk you.
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| How to write a novel:
Get the fuck off the internet.
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| I can sum up everything I've learned about novel writing this quarter in two words:
Don't Stop.
I'm taking a creative writing class which is good for teaching me craft, but unfortunately I let it eat up my writing time. Here's the thing. Writing a short story is like weaving a rope, twisting all the fibers into a taught, useful whole. Writing a novel is like building a goddamn frigate. Yes, it takes rope. It also takes a lot of time, effort, planning, and concentration. So for the love for love of god, don't take a week off. Don't stop to work on something else. Do get done what you have to so you can eat and pass your classes, but do not stop. Half the plans are always in your head and you can't stay on task if you've forgotten what you're doing.
I go to class for three hours a day. I write for 4-5 hours a day. As much as I want credit and money (and as much as I do need the practice), I have to practice on my novel. A little bit. Every day.
Let's go sailing.
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| So, I sent off a story to fantasy-magazine.com the other day. Their site says they'll get back with in 30 days, so now I get to compulsively check my business email again. Hooray. Also, xanga told me that somebody in New Jersey has an RSS feed to my account- how cool is that? Yay internet.
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-Have you ever noticed there are certain people that sound cool in theory, but are really just obnoxious?
-Like drummers?
-... yeah.
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| A brawl had broken out. Molly pursed her lips under the bar; Boss needed to get better bouncers. These guys seemed to enjoy the fights more often than not.
A man fell over the bar, crashing into the liquor cabnet. The fumes made her eyes water, but he hardly noticed Molly as he hauled himself back into the fray, as determined as he was drunk. She made a note to clean up the glass and whiskey later.
The sounds were almost comforting, the thuds of flesh on flesh, chairs snapping, glass shattering- it reminded Molly of the thunderstorms back home. She curled her fingers around the shotgun barrel and sighed. Molly McRoy was homesick.
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