I owe it all to youtube.

32,059 words!

The ending is awful- and so on and so forth, but I'm so glad it's finally done! w00t! (I was pulling things out there that I had NEVER put on paper, even hinted too before. *cringes*)
How many words did I write today? 2699.

Well, I'm off to read Stephanie's story. *rubs hands together*

I had a quote, but it left with the rest of the language portion of my brain.

Well I really want to finish my story, but my eyes keep closing.

29,360 words. That means I wrote 3234 today. This would explain why my arms hurt. I'm using muscles I don't usually use. *grins* *rubs arms and shoulders*

Hmm. Class tomorrow. *cries*

I'm almost done with the story. Almost. This causes me joy and sorrow. Joy to have it done, and sorrow cause I'll have to share the story. Stephanie and I are sharing our stories with each other, which should be interesting. Kendra might also let us read hers. *peers over shoulder* It'll be very fascinating to see how all my house mates write. I'm not that delighted at the thought of my stuff being read, but oh well.

I know it needs MASSIVE edits. You don't even know.

I just remembered that tomorrow I have to work in a reference to the god of wine or debauchery. *stares at tomorrow*

I think it's time to go to bed now.

Oh, leetness, look at the leetness....

26,117!

That's really all there is to it.

I meant to introduce some pencil-pushing backstabbers today, but in spite of spending 8 hours in front of a computer, they didn't materialize. I think they are going to be a bit cooler and more scary than I had originally envisioned. If they make it into print.

Time to shut down and look for pics

What do you think this, Homoeopathic warfare?

6664 words to go, and I'm out of story. No, I can do this.

Let's see how many words I have left after I tie up the ends. The problem is that I just don't want to rehash*light dawns*- actually, I've been rehashing mentally- not in script! I do need an explanation!!!

Hmm. Time to make some tea.

In essence, you fail.

I forgot to write yesterday! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

On the plus side, I now have the burning desire to draw my characters. And then make lovely things out of them. With quotes. *demented smile*

No, you see your problem is that you couldn’t get information out of an encyclopedia.

Just give me figures.

Word count: 24,394
Words remaining: 7,453
End dd (drop dead) word count: 31,847
Percentage of story completed: 76.6%
Words per day remaining. 828
Cookies eaten today: 9
Cups of tea drunk today: 2
Titles used and discarded: 2 (Victor's story & Definately Not Legal)
Dares accepted overall: 6

No, how are you really?

Sanity: Well, when you consider that it's me we're talking about...
Coherence: Singing triples on Corellia with my mind and my wits.
Good guy/bad guy confusion: It'll be sorted out soon, I promise!
Panic level: No, this. This must be what going mad feels like.

Fight, SEDUCE!

Definitely Not Legal
Word count: 20931
Words remaining: 10916

I wrote 1239 words today. Feels like a lot, but then I keep thinking about the spectre of May. *May looms on the Horizon* 50,000 words in a month is what I"m gonna be doing then. *crawls under desk and whimpers*

I got to arrest Alexander, which makes me happy. I finally figured our who he is, (yes, Death Note had a light hand in his character,) just when he got taken down. However, I wasn't in time to stop him killing someone. With a knife thrown over the shoulder, no less.

Mr. X is just creepy, but Alexander is cool. I want him in jail for a LONG time. No, actually I want him in a penal colony. No, actually I want his memory wiped so I can marry him.

jokes, jokes... *evil grin* However, I was feeling guilty about the insanity of my military people; their lack of security and general incompetence; so I replaced them with S.I.O. (Special Information Operations.) Therefore they can take him away never to be heard off again.

Now my characters are painted out in my head and I know what is going on, I want to go back and edit!!!! *cries*

*clears throat* I got my characters out of the terminal, which makes me happy. Now everything else is in the ambulances and Hospital. Oh, and "interviews." Hmmmm, Alison is gonna have some hardcore explaining to do. And so will Michael. And Lynn's parents.

Fragmented entry. I need to go look at my Britten paper for Music

edit: Ha, I just noticed the Death Note, Light reference. And it was entirely subconscious!

What is this? This is a rock song!

Yes, a little Kim Mitchell to help the creative muse.

I have a BIG part to write. Snap decision- it's gonna be detailed, and there will be blood.

If I hit the word-count button enough times, it'll change, right?

I have a comb. It's all red and pretty. *laughs* So, after many months of being driven crazy by my hair, Bahnree finally snapped and combed it herself. And then she gave me the comb. I think there might be a hint in there somewhere.

Ha, I've nonplussed Bahnree quite successfully several times today. First I adopted the method of simply draping myself over her when she says something unanswerable. This was rather effective. Then I called her "m'lover." This was slightly more effective. To explain, that is just a term of affectionate address where I come from; it's strictly platonic.

Teasing Bahnree is rarely effective, but it is fun!

You noticed the lack of writing content? It matches the lack of writing. NO, that's not true. I wrote a blurb about Lynn and Michael staving off hypothermia. But the creative brain died halfway through, and I fear it's not funny, just wrong. Oh well.

Time to sleep.

*falls asleep at keyboard*

Word count: 19,070
Word remaining: 12,777

The honeymoon is officially OVER. In a way, I'm glad. I was enjoying this too much, made me suspicious. Don't get me wrong, it's still oddles of fun, but it's abruptly hard. This isn't helped by my writing in the early am. *foolish, foolish girl*I've put all my characters in bad situations, and it's difficult to figure out how to get them out of it. My inner big sister is giving them all lectures about presumption, in putting themselves in a situation where they get shot at/shoot people. Alison just got chewed out, and she won't be the last. (no sireee) I think I'll put everyone else's in the past tense, come to think of it.

Of course.This is what's wrong! I need some comic relief!

Well, I just need to write a firefight, and then I can move on to the aftermath. When everyone is either in their right minds or drugged up. Sounds better. (Lynn on drugs- I'm too tired to try to picture that. )

On a completely different side note, I have competent adults! I'm pleased with this. Hopefully I don't hate them on the re-read.

[TRAIN OF THOUGHT ERROR: brain is shutting down; please re-boot and try again.]

Time for bed.

nice. I'm thrilled

Take the What High School Stereotype Are You? quiz.

Hey, it's not paranoia if they really ARE out to get you.

Take the Villain quiz.

"Would this explain it?" "No" "Didn't think so"

Find your Celestial Choir

Kendra told me to take it.

Hey, I'm not in my right mind right now. The problem is that I could see myself doing four out of the eight options easily. So the computer throws a fit when it tries to process me. Sounds right.





Take the Role-Playing Stereotype quiz.

Wait a second, I thought this was the Villains quiz? I fail.

I think you'll make a drummer so it's come along, young man.

Word count: 17764
Words to go: 14083
Coherence: I wrote 1034 words without a comma. I think that deserves a round of- something.
Panic level: "To tired to panic..."

Today was Valentine's Day. We celebrated with writing dares.

1. Include butterflies, killer if possible
2. NO commas for 730 words
3. A main character is discovered to have a dehabilitating phobia of plants.

I did it. 1258 words-es.

Is past my bed times. I go to sleep now.

Head-Hopping!

An Excerpt from Karma Police, backdated so as not to spam people.


Have Multiple POVs!
_________

In the vault, Nanami watched the vault attendant sort through a handful of keys and decided to speed up the process. She grabbed the keys neatly out of the woman’s hand. “I’ll take that.”

“Hey!” The woman snatched instinctively at the keys. “You can’t take those, Miss-”

“This is a hold up.” Nanami replied calmly, selecting the key she wanted from the collection in her hand. “I can do what I want.”

The vault attendant opened and closed her mouth, without producing any words. “Uh.” She stared at Nanami as the newly-minted bank robber picked the lock of a random safety deposit box in fifteen seconds- Ewan would be proud- and found it was full of papers.

Nanami sniffed at the box, shoved it back in, and started the next one. It proved to contain jewelry in addition to passports and more papers.

“There really isn’t a lot of valuables in here.” The vault attendant tried. “Aren’t a lot of valuables. And by the time you get these all open, the police will have been here for hours.”

Nanami pointed with a knife at the corner next to the secure filing cabinet. “Sit. I’m really not really interested.” It was only a steak knife, but it was still designed to do damage to flesh. The Vault attendant sat, looking whiter than before. Another box with papers, though it did feature a baggie of unset stones- possibly jewels. Nanami stuffed them in her backpack.

Sirens were audible inside the bank, though with the drama of Laura crying and Adam refusing to comfort her, most of the customers didn’t notice. Ewan, however, did. He leaned across the counter and glared at the teller. “If the police get here before you get those drop safes open, you’re coming with me out the back door.”

‘It’s locked, I can’t get it open.” The teller piped up, heartened by the same sirens that were making Ewan’s pulse accelerate. They both looked towards the glass doors at the front of the bank, in time to see a police car rush by, sirens and lights going. It was followed by two fire trucks, also with lights and sirens. The noises faded into the distance.

Ewan showed his teeth again- in less of smile, more of a hello-I-am-here-to-remove-your-throat-by-the-shortest-means fashion. “How bout you try?”

Outside, Ethan watched the police go by. Weird. It isn’t like they usually came out with lights and sirens in this town, it’s not much of a metro centre. Two banks, three convenience stores, one drug store and a hardware/furniture place. Even the high school kids are bussed 45 minutes away. Maybe a narcotic bust? Everyone knows John Nichol is growing pot on his old farm- Turning all the way around in the front seat of Adam’s car, Ethan spotted the pillar of smoke climbing into the sky. Or maybe that was it. Cool!

He watched the smoke for a while, then gave up on that and investigated the buttons and dials in the dashboard. Maybe he should try it out before driving, just to make sure he could get away fast. Ethan poked the “start” button. It lit up red as the engine growled to life and all the dials swung animatedly under his command. No, this was cool!

Nanami checked her watch as she shoved the seventh box back in its slot. Four minutes gone, four to go. Damn, she should be through eight boxes, if only her hands hadn’t been shaking that time. She wasn’t nervous, just edgy! There was just a lot of pressure, it wasn’t nerves at all, and she had to stick to the time table. Well, she should manage at least seven more- long key, not the short one, you blithering idiot.

Nanami scolded herself for her shaking hands and noted with her peripheral vision as the Vault Attendant hit the side of the large tellers safe with her foot. The door swung minutely, and the attendant withdrew her foot.

More papers in this one, gah. Oh wait, there was a thick envelope- which had a nice bundle of hundred dollar bills. Why’d she poked at the door? Ten thousand dollars, excellent. It wasn’t that she was any less nervous, heaven knows the woman looked even more white. Not that she’d thought that was possible before- Nanami fumbled the keys and dropped them. Crap. She bent to pick them up.

The door had swung minutely.

That meant it was open. Nanami crossed the vault at high speed. She ignored the bank employee as she cringed into the corner and yanked on the heavy safe door. It swung open, displaying a set of smaller safes set inside. They were not open. But thanks to Ewan’s ethics manuel, she could handle that . Nanami yanked the booklet out of her pocket and thumbed through it. Coms were in the double lock cabinet there, and thanks to the vault attendant, she even had one of the keys already. Fate really was with her today! She started picking the second lock at double speed. Three minutes left. Hands, stop shaking.

Laura was having difficulties keeping the tears coming when all she really wanted to do was throw her purse at Adam’s head and stomp away. But acting was required for the sake of the diversion, so tears she would force out. “You n-never loved me!”

“Of course not!” Adam clearly didn’t even realize exactly how that sounded, though everyone in line and half the tellers did. They glared at this user and discarder of young women. Adam was oblivious, still fixated on the fact that he was thought to be dating Laura Hough. “Why would I love you, I hardly KNOW you! We’re not even in the same grade! Get a hold of yourself, woman!”

The manful, authoritative effect he seemed to be aiming for was diminished severely by the fact that he was now backed up against the wall and a stand of brochures advertising retirement savings options. Laura hid her mascara-streaked face in her hands and advanced a step, sniffling. Adam gulped. “I really don’t love you, sorry.”

Laura turned her face away and dropped her hands uselessly to her sides, evidently in pain. The audience redoubled their glares at Adam, even whispering their opinion of “rich boys who treat younger girls like that, for shame!” Laura balled her hands into fists defiantly. “I really- we’ve got something, Adam. Something special! You can’t just throw that away- you can’t!” She dropped her voice to a heartbroken whisper. “You can’t.” Best lines from daytime soap operas- in play.

“There’s nothing to throw away, Laura.” Adam answered in almost the same heartbroken tone. “There is NOTHING. Seriously, I think you’ve been misinterpreting things. I am not in love with you! At all! Honestly, not even a little bit!”

The boy was resilient, she’d give him that. By the end of this declaration of indifference he’d regained most of his normal arrogant certainty, despite the fact that his flawless reputation was still in smoking shards at his feet. Or perhaps he didn’t quite understand just how much trouble he was in. Laura bit her lip. Should she say she was pregnant, or- Adam made a small movement in the direction of the door and she made a snap decision to go with the second option.

Ewan judged from the strangled noises behind him that Laura had advanced to full-contact fighting. He shoved the deposit bag at the teller to get her attention back. “Money. Now.”

“Right. Ew.” She shuddered and vanished below the counter.

Ewan risked a glance over his shoulder in time to see Laura kiss Adam in a fashion not suitable for young audiences. Damn it, and he'd been supposed to be the diversion. Ethan and Adam really had a lot to answer for.

Outside, Ethan waved cheerfully at a concerned senior citizen from the driver’s seat of Adam’s car. “Good day, Ma’am!” She shook her head and limped away. Ethan found the button to turn off the windshield wipers, then set about trying to re-find the controls for the lights.

Nanami shoved the last brick of hundreds into her backpack. Time was up and there were two more safes still to open, but as least she had opened three. And she’d got the high value and foreign currencies open, that was highly satisfying. She sat on the backpack to let her zip it up. Got to go now!

Ewan felt the air current as Nanami ran past him, he didn’t actually see her. The girl was unexpectedly fast. That meant it was time to Leave Now. He slammed his fist into the counter to get the teller’s attention. “Money! Hurry the fuck up, bitch!”

The teller shoved the bag stuffed full of money at him, ashy. He grabbed it and ran after Nanami.

Laura fell off of Adam, hitting the ground just hard enough to look painful. Not that it actually was- five years of being a cheerleader had taught her how to fall- but it should make a good closing impression on her audience. “Fine! I never liked you anyways!” She burst into tears again as she scrambled to her feet and fled.

Adam wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Twice. And again. What the, the, the heck had gotten into the girl? What had she been thinking? And here of all places? He took in the hatred-filled glances being thrown in his direction and fled too.
_____
*facepalm*

This is not so good. In fact, it is nearing the reverse of good. Stop it!

I need to stop the whole writing into the a.m. practise.

I just type so slowly!

And I didn't even get to have Alexander visit.

*looks at clock and cries*

So close, so very close...

I know just enough about military matters to know that the military elements included in this story are entirely ludicrous. However, if I cut them out the story is a lot shorter and less interesting. So the ludicrous elements remain.

I've got this at the beginning of my story now. It's far too true.

Word count: 15,764
Words remaining: 16,083
Coherence: I have mine own dialect. Is there a problem you might have with this? Negative? Good.
Panic Level: I'm sustained and buoyed up by the prospect of Reading Week. It looms so beautifully on the horizon. *grins*

I'm ALMOST at the halfway mark. *grins stupidly*

I don't know if I can make the story stretch, but I will try my darnest. I managed to get 1322 words out of Ben pwning Mr. X/ This is good, is good. Also Ben now has to explain what he was doing beating up a man on someone else's back porch. I hurt him fairly bad, so he might pass out dramatically sometime.

Ben stood up, then slipped in his own blood

I feel sorry for him, but I just couldn't let him have the fight all his own way! He's unarmed, after all, and he basically beat Mr. X into a bloody pulp. With a chair, none the less. Pretty much a man.

Now now, I already know I'm disturbing, and I can rest calmly in the fact that Stephanie is probably worse to her people. For one thing, she kills them, and and and... Yes, I'm prevaricating. Whatever.

Next on the slate: Michael and Lynn discuss things, Ben explains things, Alexander showes up, Alison shoots things... Maybe I'll have Alison shoot Alexander. He needs to die, it is true. Anyways, I'm not pondering it now. Think only on paper. This is my new motto.

Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is conspiracy.

I saw that Stephanie had taken this quiz, and decided to take it.
I have the same result?

What type of Fae are you?

"Let's dance."

I only wrote 8oo and someodd words today, but I feel justified since I was crazy last night.

Word count: 14427
Words to go: 17420
Coherence: Um, er, ah, um, er....
Panic Level: I should work on my weeping on cue, that might be useful!

I'm going to run out. I thought I had a lot of word in what I did today, but as previously mentioned, it only took 800 or so words. I'm not even halfway through yet!

However, I still have somethings that might be good, and so far my favourite bits have been unplanned. There we have it! I need to stop planning, unless I have the doc open in front of me. Otherwise it goes all sparse and terse.

Yeah, this was not an inspired day.

-Why didn't you cut yourself?!
-Oh, I'm good with knives.

"Have fun." "Oh, I intend to."

This is what happens when you have multiple writers in the same house

Jasmine: I just shot one of my characters.
Stephanie: Mine all got mind-raped.
Jasmine: oh

I just disposed of 2/3s of my Main characters. I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself. I also got to use the title line, and give Mr. X a chance to show his creepiness. Good times with rhubarb crumble and caffeine overload.

It's funny, I thought up the story and characters before I came to Ottawa, and at the time the names I chose were all not attached to any people I knew. Now half of my MC's share names. Moreover, the characters are pretty much diametrically opposed to the people. The characters are:

• Alison: 18. red hair. Gangly, but can move quite quietly when she wants too. She's got a temper. Good with guns. Uncomfortably accurate memory. Currently planning something illegal.
  
• Katie: 15, (the youngest). Sweet. Stubborn. Talkative. Unexpected planner and observer. Cute. Currently going to fetch firemen.
  
• Ben: 16. Goof ball. Really quiet when he wants to be. Good at recovering from his tactlessness. Hand to hand combat. Currently going to fetch help, and towards a prepared Mr. X.
• Kathleen. 16. Serene. A ridiculous mind for numbers. Currently keeping track of everything that moves in or out.
  
• Lynn: 17. Arrogant. Handsome and boy does he know it. Surprisingly good at acting drunk. Rich. Currently "limp and white" in a storage container in -20 weather.
• Michael: 18. Pretty much a man. Liberating supplies? no problem. Currently tied up and shot in a storage container in -20 weather.
  

Any correlations seen? *smile*

Ah, I like my people, but I like Alison, Lynn and Michael best. I'm glad I'm writing this for an age group which necessitates that I don't kill off my MC's. They can get mauled a bit, but not killed. *gentle smile* However, I need to get Michael to relax a bit.

Seriously.

Just cause he was right, doesn't mean he needs to go about being grim! Maybe blood loss will help.

Where is that other shoe?

So, I'm ten days in, and still enjoying myself. I'm also slightly ahead in terms of word count.

This does not bode well.

Probably I'm gonna run out of story before the words run out. Particularly because I want to write certain important scenes very sparsely. Yes, I will probably run out. *nods wisely*

However, I can always do more views from Mr. X's perspective... and I see potential when Alison is explaining exactly how she acquired those codes.

Hope remains, despite how well I'm currently doing.

I still have to write today, for one.

"What's your area of expertise?" "Guns."

Everything is just about to go very wrong. Things were gently slipping down into the abyss, but now they're just about to go over the edge. *smiles and bobs head*

One of my MC is gonna get shot, and another is going to have a nasty fight. I'm not sure yet how nasty. I'm also going to get Katie out of the way, stubborn girl, and give Alison a gun. *tee-hee*

Oh, this is going to need revision like you wouldn't believe/ but it is such fun.

The answer to that question is both yes and no, in a way....

Word Count: 10,280
Words still to go: 21,667
Coherence: "You mean not every sentence starts with a 3rd person pronoun?"
Panic Level: I have ice cream. It's all good

I should have done this long ago. It makes such a difference to have people to write with; who'll nag me and I them, who understand the complications attacks by random plots puts your life in, and the importance of putting the story down.

People I know talk about music as their drug. I have a growing suspicion that writing is that for me. I'm not saying that I'm any good, but it's something I think I can't not do. It's just a question of whether I do it poorly in my own head or better as I work out the technicalities on paper.

Life is endlessly interesting.

It's time for Lynn to do something obnoxious

I have a working Title! It's *drum roll please* Definitely Not Legal. Expect this to change soon.

*smile* One of my characters is very small and cute. Sweet, in fact. That's just the way Katie came into my head. However, she's not so much fun to write. I had this scene where she's making tea, and bustling around the kitchen and everything. NOT inspiring. Therefore Lynn is going to do something really arrogant.

I was feeling kind towards him after meeting his parents, but you've gotta do what you've gotta do. Lynn is cruisin' for a bruisin'.

*demure smile*

Care to come for a stroll?

Story Title: (I'm working on it! Don't rush me!)
Word count: 8360
Words yet to go: 23487
Coherence: Almost speaks in full sentences
Panic level: Eyes are still lining up

"we're done here."

I need a title

1761 words today, and my hands don't hurt as interestingly as on Sunday. However, that did just take me almost two hours. Not so good.

Oh, I'm having so much fun!

It's just fun! My characters, and all their misunderstanding, or plain negligent, relatives. *skips away humming*

I have to keep and eye on the romance component, I think. I unintentially paired off all my MC's, and now I want to keep that dynamic. It makes for such fun misinterpretations. I think the story's recipient can handle it, though.]

Oh, I'm gonna have to go through so much revision to get this fit for anyone to see.

SO MUCH REVISION!!! *crawls away in search of tea*

My hands hurt

I'm still enjoying the writing, but it's hard!

I don't type very fast. This needs to change. It will change! I shall prevail! I definantly need to get my skills up before May. I've agreed to do a 50,000 in a month with Bahnree then. *gulp* I can do this. Right. Ah huh. *weeps*

This is still very fun though. I had this story somewhat plotted out already, but it's morphing a bit. The ages of all my characters have jumped about 2 years. There is also a villain character, who is quite satisfactorily evil. *smile* And my pianist has quietly slipped away, to be replaced by a goofball. It's fun!

However, someone is going to be shot. This is undeniable.

*rubs aching hands and slinks away*

It's February!

Story Title: TBA
Word Count: 2847
End Word count: 31847
Words yet to go: 29000

I am who I am

I'm going to rant here. In the anonymity of the internet, where anyone can see. If that isn't ironic, I don't know what is. I'm not telling my friends that I have this account. So if you're one of my friends, congratulations on finding me! The options are that:

1. I didn't know I had such a gifted hacker in my circle of friends
2. Your application is currently being processed at MI6
3. I fail at hiding my tracks (this is a very likely option)
4. You're just freaky
5. I've changed my mind and told you

{insert pointless rant} This rant was good. I fell better now.

I love my friends; Kendra with her "not a date. eww, " friends, "I'll be there", and general loveliness, and Stephanie with her insanity and inappropriate remarks. *breathes again*

I'm insane. Any other questions?

I've agreed to take part in a writing activity, wherein one writes 1000 words a day for the month of February. See below:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/scotland/radioscotland/programmes/writehererightnow/

It should be fun, but I also foresee an extreme need to rant, so I shall follow in the footsteps of those more experienced in this type of thing than me. I shall start a writing blog.