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To sleep, perchance to dream... - Nobody wears a white coat any more...
...a tribute to becoming a doctor.
ayradyss
ayradyss
To sleep, perchance to dream...
Meant to take a little nap. A tiny nap. A nap like my usual naps, ten minutes, maybe twenty. Not four hours. Whoops.
I'm sure I probably needed it, the way I've been feeling lately. Not enough sleep, moving my waking-up-time back and back and back quite suddenly to six AM instead of eight-thirty, which was hard enough on the two-AM-to-ten-PM that my body really wants. I keep drifting in class. Everyone's so hard to understand recently. Either they whisper or they have horribly thick accents, and I find myself drifting. Didn't write much today, more read through the unfinished stories I have.
I'm still not sure I like the way I ended One Black Feather. It feels...Well, I know that I wrote the ending because I needed an ending. Because it was weighing on my soul. And I don't know if I like it still. It feels so rushed to me, like I'm shorting Meredith and Raven somehow. But maybe I'm wrong. The thing that's going to drive me to rewrite it all is...What happens to the baby?
Carmina Mine needs rewritten from the middle of the first page into something that doesn't sound like a high-schooler worked on it. It's choppy and dry and tedious. I can't believe I have four or five more handwritten pages of it somewhere, and I didn't realise that what I have is barely salvageable. No wonder I always had trouble writing more.
On a tangent, I'm glancing through the finished works now. Wondering what there is worth keeping. Ard Velhi. Ard Velhi I'll keep. I started it in high school, as a two-pager. I revised it, because I liked the idea so much, and two pages became eight, and I think that it's more or less done.
Blind Luck has always been one of my favourites. I have a desperate need to go through the ClarisWorks-converted copy that is the only electronic copy I have of Blind Luck (save a scanned OCR'd version), and do some editing on it. Make it make sense again. Then I'll post it and beg for help on how to make it better.
Fable is short. I wrote it for Steve, so long ago. I wonder if I should make it into something more.
My aunt-the-editor claims that First Light could be publishable. I submitted it to a contest once, and got a letter back with "Some good writing. Looking forward to seeing more from you" on the bottom of it. Well if it was that good, why didn't it win anything? I've never entered a contest since.
She is another strange one, based on a dream I had. Can't decide whether it's a keeper or not. Strange, how that is. I like it, but I don't know if it translated well enough to paper to validate its existence.
And The Sketchbook, which is unnerving because the girl is based on me, but empowering because she's only based on me in the original image he has of her. I still like it. It's funny, I have such an emotional attachment to some of these that I can't really tell if they're any good.

I'll type pages into Morning Glory when we get back from the Rave (going to see Bond) and maybe post that, depending on how close to done it is. I have more written than typed at the moment. A lot more.

Hold that thought. Bond's in 15 minutes. *poofs*

now feeling:: introspective

2 whispers echo . o O ( ... ) O o . whisper a word
Comments
feathered From: feathered Date: January 10th, 2003 08:42 pm (UTC) (etched in stone)
I like all the stories I read when I first met you.
feathered From: feathered Date: January 10th, 2003 08:43 pm (UTC) (etched in stone)
The sketchbook, too. I like that one as well.
2 whispers echo . o O ( ... ) O o . whisper a word