What have I been up to, you ask?
A bloody lot, that's what.
I don't know what exactly has plagued me over the last week, but suddenly, every time I shut my eyes, I'm being barraged by vivid characters and their stories.
Every night it's something new. Every night I'm flashing through a life that isn't my own and, instead rules a time different from the next.
This is utterly fantastic (aside from the fact that my habit of sleeping in is becoming IMPOSSIBLE now).
Now I'm stuck with packs of pages of entirely different characters, as well as large blurbs (because I spent a majority of my morning purging my head so I don't forget) in my various journals and notepads, both paper and electronic.
Sigh.
I've spent a couple days, just writing. I mean, I skipped out on work just to write any comprendable* word I could snatch from the quickly fleeting dream throughout the day. It was an amazing experience, however not practical for my life right now. Never have I ever been so jealous as to wish for the easy, free-to-write-as-you-will, lifestyle of famous writers.
My God, what have I become.
So now I definitely have to create my own character sheets, just to keep all these people intact and distinct. (So much I want to do, alas never enough time.. Hah! Writer problems :P)
Well, I'm going to go back to my growing pile of bodies.
Mera.
*fairly sure that is not a word, as I am being told by the angry red squiggly line underneath it, but I am going to pretend that it is because it sounds interesting.
A bloody lot, that's what.
I don't know what exactly has plagued me over the last week, but suddenly, every time I shut my eyes, I'm being barraged by vivid characters and their stories.
Every night it's something new. Every night I'm flashing through a life that isn't my own and, instead rules a time different from the next.
- A dystopian world where metal is murderous.
- A girl who finds a life living in her amnesia.
- Winning a war in a flash flood with bubblegum.
- Sitting on a rock feeling majestic.
- Boys as canines.
- A mortician's daughter holds her own funeral.
- ...and a whole lot more...
This is utterly fantastic (aside from the fact that my habit of sleeping in is becoming IMPOSSIBLE now).
 |
| This is just ONE of my dreams, and I haven't even finished it... |
Now I'm stuck with packs of pages of entirely different characters, as well as large blurbs (because I spent a majority of my morning purging my head so I don't forget) in my various journals and notepads, both paper and electronic.
Sigh.
I've spent a couple days, just writing. I mean, I skipped out on work just to write any comprendable* word I could snatch from the quickly fleeting dream throughout the day. It was an amazing experience, however not practical for my life right now. Never have I ever been so jealous as to wish for the easy, free-to-write-as-you-will, lifestyle of famous writers.
My God, what have I become.
So now I definitely have to create my own character sheets, just to keep all these people intact and distinct. (So much I want to do, alas never enough time.. Hah! Writer problems :P)
Well, I'm going to go back to my growing pile of bodies.
Mera.
*fairly sure that is not a word, as I am being told by the angry red squiggly line underneath it, but I am going to pretend that it is because it sounds interesting.
