the blue electric angels

Spongebob says all I want to.

SPONGEBOB. All I want to.

Har-har.

'Chapter Six: That Bright Eyes Is Remarkable' is finished! Not typed up yet, but finally finished. It was hard. When the Raven called the rats, that was very hard, because I could see it exactly right in my head, but I couldn't find the right words. Then the pigeons came, and it was a lot easier.

WOO!

I think I'll reword the last few lines when Penny enters. After that, I'm not sure whether to cut straight to Penny's place of res. or to go through the "whowhatwherewhattheheckjusthappenedidontknowbutcanyouhelpusohnowaitsheisntahybridisshe?" stuff, because that can get kind of difficult and boring.

*massages rear end* Oy vey. Sedentary lifestyle, much? At least it's the weekend, when I can sit at the computer upstairs, the computer downstairs, on the chair in my room and read my books and hopefully hopefully hopefully get some writing done.

I'm on chapter six. Yeah. Amazing, innit? This is the chapter that I'm most worried about so far. The words are coming and everything, but this is when the Raven starts writing on the walls. So, quotes from Alice Through The Looking Glass, Obama's inauguration speech, Small Faces' song Lazy Sunday, The Tale of Peter Rabbit, the first phone call, Frankenstein and a Nazi maths textbook.

:?

They're important, but I think I may be overdoing it a bit. >_<

D'arvit.

Anyone got an Anti-Laziness, Frantic Energy pill I could use?

The alchemy part is still a little hazy, as is what happens after Mister Bordello. Though I know that Penny and the Raven have a day out in the city. Together. XD And that Penny... gets rather more involved with Mistress than she should.

Her lips tasted sweet, of sugar and ginger and peppermint, and somehow soft; absurdly soft. It was as though the pinkness of her mouth and her surprise at the gesture had transmuted into a taste that spread through my mouth like a growing flower and then, for one fleeting instant, blossomed on the tip of my tongue before fading as she pulled away.

I mean, oy. I have never read romance, have never written romance, have never experienced romance, how the heck can I write Penny's feelings for Lily? Admittedly, it's not in Penny's first person, but still.

What makes it worse is that I hate it when people put gay characters in their books without good reason. It's like Russell T Davies' habit of putting black people into Doctor Who just to be politically correct. I'm not doing that for Penny. It just came. I wasn't even thinking about her, even though she needed and still does need thought and compost. It was like she'd handed me a bit of paper with, "I r lesbian" written on it.

Not that she'd write it like that. She wouldn't write it at all, she's just look and wait and then do something at completely the wrong time but it would be actually quite tender and thoughtful.

But it feels right.




Okay, rant over now.

Groo.

Why is doing something that I love so hard at times?

So. Rainbow is doing middling well. And so far there's been references to:

"Sugar Baby Love" by the Rubettes,
Some Shakespeare play that I can't remember the name of,
Breakfast on Pluto (the film, not the song),
The Dark Knight,
The Killing Joke,
and Freaks.

Not bad for the first three chapters, I'm thinking. -_- Some of them I'm not even doing deliberately.

I knew Myrddin before anyone else did.

New first line. -_-

While I really love Arthur stories, I prefer the ones like Stephen Lawhead and Mary Stewart -- the ones that go back to the roots, where Lancelot is called Bedwyr and Arthur is often called Artos, or something related to bears. And where Merlin is called Myrddin. The exception to that would be Rosemary Sutcliff's trilogy, mostly because of the way she writes Gawain.

Gawain is awesome.

But Welsh stories are better than the Norman ones. The stories where there aren't castles and armour and tournaments, where the people live in a time when the lines between magic and reality were so often blurred.

So. A story set in the Raven's world, only quite a few centuries earlier, when the elves were still considered as demigods and *spooky voice* when magic was rife within the land. And there's a very clear distinction between the Men's Side and the Women's Side -- they live differently, dress differently, act differently, have different magics. While a man's magic is physical and powerful, the magic of the Women's Side is more subtle; based on thoughts and feelings, controlled through reflection -- mirror and water. A magic of little white hawthorn flowers floating in a bowl of water; of thought and stillness; a singing magic and a weaving magic and a magic made in the dark that isn't for men's eyes to see. Women sitting in the doorway, weaving, combing their hair, spinning, singing, nursing, and making magic.

Yep. Women's Side pwn the Men's Side.

---

Smear, please note: my vampires have grey eyes.

Like she cares. :P

New possible titles for the Raven's story: Sitting in a Rainbow or Where The Rainbow Ends.

Eenie meenie minie moe - catch the hybrid by her toe - if she squeals, let her go - eenie meenie minie moe.

---

It happens every spring
I hear this bluebird sing
Love is here again to stay
But now that I've found you
I know this time it's true
Love is really here to stay

Blue eyes look my way
Make today my lucky day
Blue eyes looking at me
Hope you're liking what you see
Hope you're liking what you see

Nobody ever saw
This deep deep blue before
Bluebells look up in surprise
The sky admits defeat
The sea will kiss your feet
I could drown in those blue eyes

Blue eyes shining down
Everything is right somehow
Blue eyes stay here with me
Find my world in those blue eyes
Find my world in those blue eyes.


"Blue Eyes" by Don Partridge. Reading through the lyrics, just reading, not even really wondering if they'd fit anyone, then I thought of a fairly newish character - Penny. Raven calls her Penny Dreadful. So, all I know about Penny is that she meets Lily and the Raven after they've escaped from Mister Vampire (slurp "I-love-maidens" slurp), she has short red hair and she dresses as a man. I don't know why she dressed like that; she just came like that.

Knowing all this, I was reading those lyrics, when I thought of Penny. And of Lily. Lily has blue eyes.


So I was all like, "Woah!" and she was all like, "Huh?" and I was like "But dude!" and she was all like, "Huh?" and I was all like, "Eek!" and she was all like, "Please stop thinking that I can only say huh and sound like an idiot."

So it looks like I've got a lesbian.

*stabs*

PENNY. Ouch.
TWIT. Do you know what people thought of homosexuals in Victorian/Georgian England?
PENNY. You read more about men getting into trouble than women.
TWIT. It was illegal!
PENNY. I know! It's not my fault! It's not like I ever did anything, anyway!
LILY (oblivious) I'm pretty.
THE RAVEN. Pretty ugly.
LILY. Raven! *slaps*
THE RAVEN. I'm thinking of changing my name to Spillikins. Only Raven-the-ninja sounds better. *twirls* I tell you the tale, I tell you the tale, I tell you the tale of Raven-the-ninja, toast of the underworld and boast of Manchester, who walked the tightropes and stalked the playwrights of the world, for all the world's a stage, boys and girls, and we mewl and puke our way through our chrysalids and caterpillars until we emerge at Tiffany's, sans everything but regrets.
TWIT. 'Kthnxbai.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making stories inside stories," she replied placidly. The chalk squeaked down the wall, and she shivered slightly.

"Don't be silly," Mistress said. "And stop messing up the wall. You'll get him angry."

"Stories," the Raven repeated. "Everything's a story."

"This is silly!" Mistress looked at the scrawled writing covering the whitewashed walls. "'This is the tale of the Raven who dazzled the world and MI5 and still managed to get home in time for tea...' That's nonsense!" She pulled a ringlet over her shoulder and began to tug at it distractedly, biting her lip until it was far redder than paint could ever make it.

The Raven rubbed her forehead, leaving a white smear of chalk. "All stories," she said in a lilting voice. "It's all just a story. I'm in a story, making stories. Mistress is a story. Mister Vampire is a story." She started on a new section of wall.

"Owrk?" The gargoyle said.

"I agree," said the Raven. "Don't you agree, Mister Vampire?"

"Slurp." said Mister Vampire. "I like maidens. Slurp, slurp, slurpitty, slurp."

Mistress fiddled with the ribbons on her bonnet. The Raven looked at her, faintly patronising. "I'm in love," she carolled suddenly, "with a fairytale!"

"Breakfast on Pluto" by Don Partridge

Go anywhere without leaving your chair
And let your thoughts run free
Living within all the dreams you can spin
There is so much to see

The power of imagination and stories -- the Raven's not sure whether she's mad or dreaming or the stories are real, but she's going to enjoy it all, anyway.

If you can't fly high
No need to feel low
The world is a merry-go-round
Look at the sky, and up there you'll go
Peacefully floating along

And because it might all be a dream, why bother about anything? She's a happy bunny for 99.999999% of the time, with her head in the clouds.

No cares to care and no races to run
Flying up in the air
no time to change and no time to learn
and no time to wonder where

When you're dreaming, nothing really matters that much.

Up on the moon
We'll all be there soon
Watching the earth down below
We'll journey to Mars
And visit the stars
Finding our breakfast on Pluto

Even though she's a pet, she feels somehow superior to everyone else, because they haven't realised what she, a lowly hybrid, has known for ages: there's no point in caring about anything, so why do it? She's looking down at everyone stuck on the earth while she has her freedom in the skies, breakfasting on Pluto, which the people around her don't even know exists.


---

I really like that song, and the film is really funny. The Raven didn't think so, though; she was too weirded out by the whole transgender thing.

Because men in drag are extremely disturbing.

‘Why are you smiling?’

‘Because it’s Pollyanna Day!’

‘Pollyanna Day,’ Jera repeated.

‘It’s also known as Annoy Your Aunt With Your Nauseating Optimism And Get Run Over By An Automobile As A Punishment Day,’ the Raven said helpfully. ‘No? This not ringing any bells? It’s the one day in the year when you’re glad, glad, glad about simply everything there is and isn’t to be glad about. When you always Look On The Bright Side Of Life.’ She whistled a few notes.

‘And what’s the bright side of being whipped by the hound master?’ Jera demanded.

The Raven stood on one foot and considered. ‘That he’s stopped?’ she offered.

Maybe we're all poofs and saddos. Not that I'm making personal remarks or anything, I just like quoting un-PC people. There's a pun in there if you look closely.

Words fill something. Other people have desires and hates and loves and lusts (and they're not all the same thing) but they deal in other ways. Talking. Making love. Making money. Killing people.

Maybe making up stories is a healthier (debateable) alternative to murder.

So if you hear news of mass murder sprees, you'll know that my laptop's broken.

Wow.

Writing a novel is so easy. You just talk about stuff.

I have a new first line: There were four people celebrating New Year's Eve on Ben Ghulbhinn that night. One was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. Two were making love. The fourth was loading a pistol prior to blowing his brains out.

It needs tweaking, but I don't want to in case the apathy and the "why-write-why-not-just-sit-and-watch-how-everyone-has-done-it-better" thing comes back.

I feel like a ghost.

Well, After Echo could not be going slower, but I don't think it's its fault. Well, duh, of course it isn't, but I mean I think it's writing in general. It's not coming very easily. It's like after Faery Dancer/Kingdom/Scavenger/Rainbow came out in a flood of filth, blood, tears and chocolate, everything kind of relaxed.

Sucks.

SNIS (Shiny New Idea Syndrome) has struck again, along with my plagiarism circuit giving sporadic twitches. Plagiarism, because I snitched the idea on the second-to-last? episode of House, with House hallucinating Amber. I thought it was really cool that House would hold open the door for her and she'd walk through and to everyone else, it's like no one's there. But he holds the door open for his hallucination.

So I thought about this guy who does drugs and has his subconcious embodied in this woman who voices his thoughts and feelings and whatevers. The details are extremely hazy, but I think I know that he's taking lots of different drugs that he doesn't know the names of, which saves on my research (hah), and every time he takes a new drug, his location changes.

I suspect that actual drug induced hallucinations don't work like that at all, but hey, these are my drugs and they work like I say they do.

Bad attitude.

But it's kind of fantasy as well --

!!!! I found out that Catherine Webb has finally written another book! Albeit under a pseudonym (is that how you spell it?) nom de plume, whatever, and it's reserved at the library, so I just have to wait. *squirms in excitement*

Oh yes, talking about me.

Read Catherine Webb, plz? I know nobody who has read her books, and it's such a shame. She did get published when she was fourteen, and although that book isn't as good as her later ones, it's still a really great book. Mirror Dreams. The Horatio Lyle books are the best -- funny, thoughtful historical fantasy, with characters that you get to know and, you know sometimes how you just want to hug characters because they're those characters and they're part of your favourite book or movie or tv show? That's them.

That didn't make sense, but whatever.

I chose what my mood would be before I posted.




Maybe this is what drugs are like. But why isn't the drunk little foxy happy? Why is he looking down as though he's Atlas and the world's dumped on his heaving shoulders? Why isn't he happy?

He's sad.

Guy I barely know died on the rails a few weeks ago. Drunk. It's kind of difficult to feel things for a face and a name and not a person. I don't even know why I'm mentioning it. Because I want to appear deep?

Like Stephen Fry put it.

Lol, doesn't the anxious little fox down there look funny? I was going to be "aggravated" then "annoyed" and then I saw "anxious" and it looked funny, so...

Er, yeah. Blogging. Um. After Echo is gong along very, very slowly. I realised last night that I hadn't written anything for days, so I wrote three sentences before going to bed. Epic, huh? But it was just before going to bed that I realised the lack of words. So. There just doesn't seem to be much time. I mean, I know there is. Get up, go to school, come back from school, do reading, homework, lay the table, have tea, go to bed.

-_-

My day is not like that. There are huge intervals inbetween where I read Terry Pratchett (who I have just discovered and kind of like. I've read one and got three more), blog, go on YWS, think, laze, read Beanos and the occasional Dandy, go on YouTube, go on the 'net, try and find somewhere to watch Inkheart online in good quality without paying or downloading anything.

Faery Dancer is still in my notebook and not on the computer. It doesn't really matter that much. I know that it kind of sucks a lot; it's just a relief to get it finally out. Though I really hate the title, and I was slightly cheesed off that it ended up in third person. Draft 11 was the final one, it seems, so Draft 12 will be it perfect.

Draft 1 (Off the Edge of the Rainbow) was in third.
Draft 2 was in first.
Draft 3 was in first.
Draft 4 was a mix of both.
Draft 5 (Scavenger) was in first.
Draft 6 was in first.
Draft 7 was in first.
Draft 8 was in third. (I think, I'm getting a little confused here.)
Draft 9 was in third.
Draft 10 (untitled) was in first.
Draft 11 (Faery Dancer) was in first.
Draft 12 (hopefully something different) will be in third.

There was an unbelievable amount of cliches in Rainbow, an unbelievable amount of angst in Scavenger, an unbelievable amount of rubbish in untitled and an unbelievable amount of confusion in Faery Dancer.

Maa'lesh.

I still want to carry on with The Epic Quest to a Far Away Land in order to Defeat Evil And Save The World. I mean, come on. With a title like that, you've got to love it. :P I think I'll cut down on the characters this time round, though, as I kind of lost track of them all last time. I only wanted nine to rip off the Fellowship, and that was including dog and horse.

Raoulin'man-us will stay, and Laratishnnialyae, because they're kind of essential. Iolo, because I like him. Maybe not Lorens. I do like Lorens, but he doesn't really do much. Domyn'c stays, just 'cause he's awesome and angsty and dark and has this really turbulent and troubled childhood. Willym as well. White stallions are essential.

So that's, what, five major characters. I think that'll be all right, but I will miss Lorens. He had one of those speech impediments where you can't pronounce the letter "r", but it was only very slight, like Alec Guinness in The Lavender Hill Mob. Not like Michael Palin in The Life of Brian. -_-

He looked a bit like Alec Guiness, too. Same hair. Although, as he changed his hair a few times, more specifically, his hair in Great Expectations.

---

Woah, this is kind of a long entry. Oh well. Blogging about Alec Guinness' hair is bound to draw in audiences.

There seems to be an awful lot of sex in Greek mythology. If it's not Zeus turning himself into a shower of gold to visit a helpless human female, it's nymphs being raped by gods left, right and centre.

Fauns chase nymphs a lot. Apparently Pan seduced the moon. Cool. Bully for him.

I'm still not sure about the title, though. Faun Magic or After Echo? The first one is pretty much short and to the point, but I like After Echo because it sounds like an actual phenomena and not an action. A pretentious pun. -_-

If you look in the dictionary under "confused", there'll be a picture of me sitting in my chair looking at the notebook that contains the finished draft of the Raven's story. Only now it isn't the Raven's story. It's Phoebe's story.

It's finally finished, and it's confusing me. It didn't end the way I thought it would. Phoebe jumped out of the window. How did that happen?

If you want to cross a bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

Now I'm editing. Rewriting. It ended up in third person after all.

I know this seems like I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but -- it's odd. It's finished. Out. It said what I wanted it to; what the Raven was always saying, only it's unsettling.

I think that's a good sign?

SNIS: - Faun Magic or Zerzura or Daddy Longlegs or The Man In The Clouds?


---

The circus-y music at the beginning of The Elephant Man. That says exactly what this feels like.

Oy vey.

*head/desk*

UHUHUHUHUHNNGGNNGHUHUHUHUNNGGNGNGUHNUG

Third person, here I come. Third person and first person. Thoughts in first?

Oh, Jingle Bells,
Batman smells
Robin laid an egg.
The Batmobile lost a wheel
And the Joker took ballet --
Hey!

Must carry on writing. Must not get distracted by Shiny New Idea.

Shiny...

Shiny...

Shiny...

Shiny New Idea will take over the world!

You ever get that when you start off by making a character bad and then said bad character actually turns out quite nice?

Yeah. Me too.

Meet Gaspard. He's bad with the whole enslaving/exploiting thing, but he's also really nice, making sure that his exploited children got a decent upbringing and caring for them all tender-like. Even if they do act like they've lived their whole lives in shells.

I think I'll run Phoebe through the Mary Sue test.