introversion

Anyone looking for a prereader/editor? I never really edit or proofread others’ works, but I probably should to improve my own writing and skills… (Yes, that’s a warning that I’m an amateur at this, but I’m more than willing to give it a try).

Just a funny thought: In one of the Fullmetal omakes Roy comments that Hawkeye has no naming sense. Now, b/c I’m a RoyAi fangirl at heart, what kind of names would their children have if Riza were allowed to name them?

All that work and I still ended up just reserving my books with the bookstore… Strange to sit here and watch everyone go off and/or start college. Stranger still to wonder why we start on the 23rd–so far away yet! I both hate/like it. And… should I call my roommates or let them call me? =D

Recently I’ve been entertaining thoughts of Enigma & crew and their little world. More importantly, I’ve been recklessly thinking about another try. Not just another try, but an entirely new effort, making changes here and there, tweaking characters, and, most importantly, creating a plot–and planning all of it.

You think this silly little dream should have died by now. Two efforts abandoned. Two very bad story attempts. It’s been five or six years, botched twice and left to die, but somehow it still lingers in my mind.

But although I keep telling myself I’ll put pen to paper and write down these ideas–and not just ideas, but to really outline and make all the dots connect (which in itself scares me, knowing full well that I may very well get to the end of the outline and find myself out of steam–which would be so very typical of me)–I’m too scared to. My writing track record is probably one of the worst all around. I finish very few stories and know far too little to embark on a big endeavor. And this would be a big endeavor. To make it worthwhile, this would have to be it. Enigma’s story. Beginning, middle, end.

But it comes down to one question and if I can’t answer it, perhaps the story shall lie dormant forever, dead in every true sense.

“Why?”

Wow. Wow. I feel young, unread, and overwhelmed. But in a good way. Even with the whole “goddamn, that’s intimidating; I could never contribute anything to such conversations and thoughts.” Amazing what you find on the ‘Net. Even more amazing are the minds all around the world. Sheesh, if I ever hoped of doing/writing something great, I just had the greatest epiphany that anything I do will pale in comparison to what others can achieve. Yet there’s that wonderful realization that we are people, individuals, and we are as colorful and varied as the full pallette of Photoshop and that we shouldn’t shove ourselves into molds. I should be proud to be me–flawed, yes, and young, unread, and ultimately inexperienced. But I’ve got time. To read. To see. To experience. And to let it all become a part of me (or not).

Yeah.

I love how Bryan and I watch the Olympics in different ways. Bryan watches all of it and always wants the US to win. I watch some of it (usually whatever is on NBC) and although I want the US to win, too, I love just watching the events out of pure appreciation for the events and the performances of the athletes themselves. It’s a testament to just how far the human will and the human body can go.

Ah, the Olympics are fun. And, yeah, I get disappointed when we don’t win too. Tonight: Women’s Gymnastics (hell yeah!).

Not really, since I don’t like yaoi. Or rather, I don’t like the yaoi of fangirlism because I can’t see it. Granted, I usually avoid yaoi and have not read much of it (again, because the idea often strikes me as too ludicrous to really dive into) but seeing a fic’s premise as such often makes me stop and ask myself, “How in the world does that work out? How do you take a guy who acts like that and make him fall for another guy?” My mind conjures images of self-loathing (or even just loathing for the object of his desire as misplaced anger) instead of love and pride; the men I know usually vehemently deny being homosexual and those who are and have accepted that part of themselves only do so after a period of self-doubt, denial, and ultimately pain because of the reality of it. The lucky ones are those who have the support to really live an open life.

I do not doubt in reality that many gay men are macho men; I think I actually saw/read that somewhere. And, hell, anime is rife with bishounen guys who are girly (at least in appearance–perhaps too beautiful for their own good) that are probably loads of fun to slash. But so many of their personalities don’t even hint at tendencies toward being homosexual. In fact some are painfully made out to be ladies’ men and who undoubtedly enjoy women–and so many of these slashed characters are often in worlds that would seem to or would very likely disdain homosexuality. So these manly men just suddenly hit on other manly men… like women. They act like women. Yes! They go lovey-dovey and gushy… like women. These are not the manly men we began with. I’ll let all that romantic stuff go on in the bedroom–that I can understand. But the courting… what are the chances that two manly men are so acceptingly homosexual?

Pull off yaoi correctly and, yeah, I’ll give it to you. I have nothing against it. I mean, hell, I immensely enjoy Jacqueline Carey’s world and the D’angeline “Love as thou wilt” (which, literally, they do, loving whomever and however they want to–but the D’angelines have always been like that and the society is completely accepting of, open to, and encourges it). If you’re going to slash, ok, go for it–but make it realistic. Don’t forget about that angst, that human self-doubt. Don’t forget the MALE EGO!

I’m a romantic sap (hell, my secret vice is yuri–which logically works for me because I can completely see women acting so emotional (or in some cases, not)–hell, groups of women are so close that often that’s just the next step in some cases (though one not often crossed and that’s probably a good thing)). Hell, I think yaoi might actually just be yuri in disguise sometimes how these men act.

But… alas, even though I’ve gotten on my soapbox, I’m not going to write a yaoi story to prove it. Not in a fic anyway… In the end it is as it always is… to each his own.

This("Masterpiece") is probably nowhere near what Lia wanted when she threw her request at me ("Write me a story about a painter that’s really good, but can’t find satisfaction in any of his “masterpieces". He can’t find enough inspiration and that’s why he doesn’t like his paintings") and I apologize for that, but then again it was nowhere near as inspired as my other one. Although, in the end, my inspiration hit when I read a line in a FMA Roy/Hawkeye fic:

The map I traced over the years started there, in the solid curve of your collar-bone.
-Kaleidoscope by zauberer_sirin

So there you have it. Enjoy… maybe.

… is so great! I can’t stop laughing at the comments (you know, I should probably share some of their sentiments, but it’s just so damn funny to see the horrified/disgusted/suffering/hopeless/hopeful prayers/threats/wails/laments/rants that are popping up)–not to mention the hypothesizing!

… Yes, I understand that twisted, sadistic pleasure Arakawa must derive from this. I can only hope that one day if I ever get into such an industry where I can cause as much agony that I can… and do. =D

I think the wait to find out what happens next and to see the plot unfold before my eyes is killing more than the… killing.

Why is Fullmetal Alchemist so cruel?! Why isn’t it translated?! Why must I wait? And why must we all wait until next month to find out what happens (again)?!?!

There’s nothing like FRIGGIN’ AWESOME FANART to reignite my love for Juuni Kokki (12 Kingdoms). It makes me almost want to watch the whole thing again to refresh my memory, especially since I can’t recall some of these characters being drawn. JK is one of those series where the artwork is elegant and flowing (like the series)–it’s awesome and beautiful and makes you want to become Emperor (or Empress) of a Kingdom with your own kirin. (Well, I do anyway…)

As a little experiment and for anyone who actually reads this blog, I’m taking writing requests. Those of you who have read my work know my style, but I guess if I want to actually try this I’ll take anything but outright comedy (b/c I can’t write comedy to save my life). Fanfic or original (although my fandoms are somewhat limited, but hey…). Pick your poison theme in the handy little comment box (which no one ever uses…). And you probably shouldn’t expect anything long–unless you really manage to inspire me (secret muses lurking out there?) Anyone interested?

Here is a sample, I suppose. For Lia. =)

Of course, now we have a new layout, as it seems every summer brings. Compact. Black, white, gray (because we all know how much I like to keep things in black and white…) and… purple? Hey, I like purple. Royalty. Penitence. It works. It was my favorite color, once upon a time. (What’s my favorite color now? I can’t decide.) I usually like it in its darker forms, though.I’ve wanted to change the layout for a while now; my original concept was very similar to the first one with a few color changes. Then I realized I didn’t need the stupid sidebar (what the heck did I have to put in it?) and ousted it. Also took down the gallery because Lia displays her own artwork at deviantART. She needs a scanner. So I can look at more of her work. Get a scanner, Lia!

Anyone curious about Bleach? Not yet? Well, I’ll keep mentioning it until you are interested! So, chapter 144 came out in Japan and, of course, me being me, I can’t resist taking a peek (damn my inability to read Japanese!). So… yeah. I kind of eargerly await to see if Kubo, the author, is as malicious or fearless as Arakawa (Full Metal Alchemist). Needless to say, there’s a small furor being worked up over it at the Bleach LiveJournal Community (entitled “soul socity” for interested parties). It’s interesting to see and read all the thoughts pouring out about it. Me? It’s not so surprising, although it is somewhat heartbreaking and well… hopeless. But I’m still dying to see Fullmetal Alchemist 38. Why must we wait? (And watch at the end of the wait that part of the story won’t even be touched. ;_;

Kubo also likes to assign theme songs for his characters and I must say this man is interesting; his music is all over the place (from J-pop to Jap rap to symphonic to English punk to sad Italian songs). Rukia’s theme song (Wing Stock by Ashley MacIsaac) rocks my socks. Goddamn this song is cool. It just builds and builds and makes me itch to touch a violin.

Oh, and I killed the counter. The counter is dead! Long live the counter! (Whenever I get John to fix it.)

And this is a beautiful tribute to Maes Hughes of FMA. It’s just so… right.

With my writing buddy back and myself in a tentatively optimistic mood again (I’ve been pretty good all summer, but I think I’ll rest a lot easier when things get completely squared away), it’s time for another collab! Definitely some influence from Carey in here, but that was probably because we were talking about Phedre and the crew, as well as the upcoming sequel yesterday (can’t wait for that… and it’ll be a long wait). Unfortunately, we didn’t get to finish it (and I was liking where it was going, too), but as always, it was fun.

(22:13:43) Lia: Eve knelt before her queen in shame, her sword, her companion, lost in a ruin of a battle forfieted so much like her once vibrant spirit, chains as heavy as her heart weighing her body down as she bowed her head with eyes unfocused.
(22:14:14) Lia: That so did not come out the way I wanted it…. oh well
(22:15:44) Me: The eyes of the court watched her eagerly. They smelled blood and promise in her shame and circled like wolves. She could almost hear them licking their lips in anticipation.
(more…)

That turned out to be probably one of the best case scenarios that could have happened. But now I need to hope that everything works out and everything gets OKed and we can all be happy and stay on this steady course.

I want to write something so bad it hurts. I want to put this fear into words, to see it written out and made real–to acknowledge that it’s real, that I can’t escape it, and that my only option is to embrace it–and let it all come out. But I can’t. I won’t let myself. Not until I see what happens. Not until fate shows its hand.

Not until I know.

But that’s the worst part, isn’t it? The not knowing. Or even better, thinking you know, doubting you know, reassuring yourself you don’t know until you’re back at thinking you know and stuck in a vicious cycle.

But then again I’m more afraid of knowing.

Because that’s final. Whether you want to know it or not.