Sep. 30th, 2002
my nanowrimo bunnies have attacked. Little snippets and ideas. :pouts: I want to write this novel *now*, not in a frickin' month's time! :sigh: At least I'll have probably the whole structure down by the time it comes to actually starting it.
And I have my starting lines :
Sitting by the roadside, head in her hands. Trying to forget what she's discovered. She may not know who she is, but she knows her potential. More than she ever wanted and marked for life. The stories they tell about her kind aren't anything she ever wanted to hear in relation to herself.
And I have my starting lines :
Sitting by the roadside, head in her hands. Trying to forget what she's discovered. She may not know who she is, but she knows her potential. More than she ever wanted and marked for life. The stories they tell about her kind aren't anything she ever wanted to hear in relation to herself.
Just had a good cry and rant about the state of my life, which happens about every six months or so. This means I now look a state and my eyes are all gummed up. Something to do with me having a tendency to repress, but mostly to do with me never really getting too upset about stuff normally. So, every six months all the petty shit and nagging problems build up and make me spend an hour crying and ranting. All done now. See you in another six months....