Neuroleptic Malignant Syndrome

"I hate them for clearing more land."

"I know. We should've been on top of that."

"What? Like kill someone so it'd be a vengeful burial ground?"

"Or summoned a demon to kill the workers."

"Yeah! Yeah, why didn't we think of that?"

"Because then someone would call the Winchesters and they'd have to come take care of that."

"Oh right, and then they'd clear land and build houses anyway."

"And the demon would kill us."

"I'm glad we didn't do that, after all."

"But they would've fought about it first. Because Sam would've been like, 'This is a good thing. This land doesn't need to be cleared.' And Dean woulda been like, 'We're not environmentalists, Sammy. This thing is killing people. We have to take care of this.'"

"And Sam woulda been like, "DEAN."

Apparently Laura and I aren't capable of expressing distaste about new houses without spoofing something. Saying, "Man I wish they didn't put in new houses" isn't good enough.

SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS NEXT PLEASE?

I'm never going to get through this...

I have no plot. The characters are flat. My writing is mediocre. I have no direction. What the hell am I going to do?

Insert Remy Zero: "somebody saaaaaaaaave meeee!"

New project on the horizon [technically two]. I have to write two passable short stories by the 16th of December. Yeah... we'll see how well I do. I'm participating in a secret santa project over at Deviant Art and luckily don't have to post internationally. Which pushes my deadline out by a week and a half. I also have to have the next installment in Dan and Adrian's epically angsty love story by Christmas Day at the latest.

Oh hell...

I'm going to live inside my thesaurus - as soon as I get it back from Sarah - and my notebooks, and fuck television or social contact because I have to WRITE. I'm going to be become the He-Man of Word documents. Okay, not really, but I can dream. I have to raise my morale somehow.

Anyway, I'm running with titles because I can't plot to save my life. I'm writing 'So Get Your Gun and Kiss Me' first while the back of my mind thinks up a title for the second story. Dan and Addie can wait until I get these things posted.

ALRIGHT. I could talk more but uh... I have to become He-Man.

I am addicted to these things.

This is what I'm doing instead of writing anything serious, because I've been struck down by writer's block and I'm not expected to recover for many weeks.

Please, steal this. I want to learn about your characters too.

Dear Invisible Readers,

Assuming you are indeed out there and simply don't have fingers to allow you to leave me lovely comments, you may have noticed my journal style has changed. It's prettier this way.

Also. I have nothing to write. I need inspiration.

I can has deus ex machina now? Plzthnx.

Sincerely yours,

Hava

P.S. F--- you, NaNo!

Have some random dialogue! It's my favorite thing to post.

( When in doubt, call Jeeves )

I wrote this a million and eight years ago! Okay, no, actually it was about two.

( Meet Gabriel )

So...hey...look's like I wrote some more.

I'm posting this from my phone so no fancy link to click. I wrote this in a hospital waiting room while Amy was being born and just now found it in a notebook. If anything is spelled wrong then oh well, it's late and I only have two thumbs.
Alice!: this is a spoiler for Blood Lies.

------------

It was the most surreal thing in the world. When the door swung open a mirror image of myself stared back. Subtle differences were evident only because I'd seen myself so often over the years but it was still a profoundly strange thing. My genetic counterpart looked me over with disdain decorating his pale face.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded calmly. Nicoli bounced on the balls of his feet. His blonde hair bobbed in and out of my peripheral but I was too fixated with my long lost relation to be irritated with his constant fidgetting.

"Riker," the Dandy said with an air of discomfort, "this is Anza...your twin."

"Just what type of idiot do you take me for, Draculi?" Riker lowered his eyebrows in disgust and shut the door in our faces. Damn. Nicoli made an audible sucking noise as he chewed his bottom lip. For a man who seemed so infallible he sure was nervous.

"I was afraid this would happen," he shrugged. "He hates me."

"Well this has nothing to do with you," I said and turned to pound my fist on the door until something came of it. Over the racket Nicoli said something about being ravenously hungy and scampered off in pursuit of a pretty teenage boy. I paused my abuse on the door to listen for footsteps. Hearing nothing, I shouted, "Answer the door, damnit! Would a scheming Dandy be so persistent?"

Finally my somewhat uncouth request was granted and a mousy, stick insect of a girl stood before me, wearing an expression that only pretended to be surprise. I didn't hold the pretense of manners, just pushed my way into the house. Riker stood by and open window, a lit cigarette between his lips.

"What?" he snapped. "What are you doing here?"

"I've just found out that I was lied to my entire life," I explained, tilting my head slightly as if that would make the situation more understandable. How was it that he could regard me so coolly while my head was doing back-flips at the sight of him? "I'd like to know the truth."

"So read a pedigree chart," Riker snarled and took a sharp drag off his cigarette. "I don't know what you're up to but rest assured, I do not encourage it."

I started to insisted that my intentions were anything but malicious and that if he'd just listen he'd understand but it was clear from the look on his face that my words would do no good. With a bedraggled sigh, I held up my hands in defeat.

"Fine. If you're going to be insufferably stubborn, then fine, but I'll be back with proof and then you and I will have a talk."

Okay, so, little bit of organization going on here. I need a master list of shit that I'm writing, because I'm starting to lose track of what's going on with my Word documents.

( Master List )

Post two or three sentences from every work of fiction you have in progress, it'll either earn you harassment from "fans" or motivate you to work on them.

Here goes:

[simulacrum]
It was the voice of a woman, young, smooth, and unspeakably sinister. "Abscond if you so desire," she whispered, "but your pedigree shall evermore be an adjunct of the Simulacrum."

[something untitled]
He'd stolen the brown suede coat from an old man at the docks. It hung huge and loose on his petite frame, heavy over his shoulders and smelled of dirt, and iron, and manufactured flesh.

[blood lies - shitty title is shitty]
Nicoli scoffed at the reprimand. "I do what I please," he crowed, giving Riker a patronizing look.

[chutzpah]
Weird shit happens to me. I'm not complaining, just stating a fact. Weird shit happens to me.

[character development 1]
"Look at the time, Eric," Anza said coolly, indicating a wall clock that may or may not have existed. "My god, you're a mess and it's only been fifteen minutes. That's just a little sad."

[character development 2]
He was always calm, a little bit self conscious, and not one to speak openly about his emotions; mostly because one look at his face could tell a person all they needed to know, but Nick had never seen him look so...so...vulnerable. Whatever Riker said to him must've really hurt.

[holy fan fiction, batman!]
"You'd better take Watanuki home, he doesn't know the rule about moderation!"
Doumeki didn't point out that Yuuko herself seemed to have definitions crossed as she poured another large helping of alcohol into her glass - well into the double digit servings.

I'm pretty sure that's it.

Today was a generally awesome day - half day, I wake up at noon. However, I've been plagued with awful writer's block for weeks and it's really starting to drive my crazy. I want to work on "Song Without Words" but I have this great idea for a new book, and I want to work on that too...but I don't know what direction to take with either.

It's soooo frustrating. I can't even come up with unnecessary character pieces or slice-of-life bullshit. I was hoping a day away from my house insanity would help in some way, but it really didn't. It was a great day, but I still have writer's block, and at the end of the day that's what's going to keep me irritated all night.

I need something to get my juices flowing.

I stole this!

( Character info )

Moving on from that. I started writing something new involving faeries, demons, alchemy, steampunk, and fast food. It'll be interesting if I can pull it all together.

I while back I was at a Seattle cemetery and I took down some names for future use and since then I've had these characters bopping around in my head, trying to have their own story. I decided to take a break from the novel I'm currently writing and jot down a bit of a new one. I'm tired of writing dark urban fantasy, so I'm trying for something with, at the very least, an upbeat narrative. We'll see.

I uh... am too lazy to whip up anything new on Nicoli, but I did feel the need to post something, so I'm just flinging this up there for the sake of it. If anyone is lurking out there reading it, I'd appreciate some kind of comment.

( Kidnapping )

It's raining right now and it makes me feel peaceful and content despite everything that's been going on.

Best Chibi Ever.

A stranger over at deviantart.com was offering free chibis and drew this amazing mini-Nicoli for me. It made my whole freaking day, and thus I needed to share it.

Very soon, I'll have to write something with him, to display him in all of his amazingness.

I had an idea to write scenes in movies from minor characters' perspectives. So, to jump right on in, I started with Fight Club. Because I am a dumb ass like a challenge.

I wanted to explore what sort of mind set the members of Project Mayhem would have towards Tyler and the narrator's more intense and abstract behavior. I took some liberties, because just sticking to the movie was sort of limiting in regards to all the things I wanted to reference and say. So yeah, I'm waving my artistic license around in everyone's face.

This gets ratings for language and some violent sentiments. Let it be known that you were warned, and it isn't my fault if you click that link anyway.

( Mayonnaise )