Skip to main content

In Which I'm Visited by Santa's Delivery Elf

A brand-spanking new blog requires a primary post of all levels of blabberdom. In this case, I shall be describing to my small-to-near-nothing audience of a broad-shouldered, yet skinny mail-delivery guy who waltzed up my driveway this morning. I, in fact, did not speak to this man. My Dad did, and was promptly handed a medium-sizedpackage. My Dad walked into the house and told me it had been sent from the North Pole - haha. Upon inspection, I deduced that the BBC had sent this to my Dad, and I was then given it to wrap.
I'd forgotten about this purchase I made on BBCShop.com, and was then allowed to wrap one of my Christmas gifts: Doctor Who Seasons 1 to 4 in a boxset. Hel-lo David Tennant.

In other news, I've had a lazy-day all day due to the fact that my family took pity on me as I worked an eight-hour shift at work yesterday, without any breaks and without sitting down once. I'd been on the grill nearly the entire time, and my arms were shaking as a result. I have disappointed myself as I have not touched one page of my book. Christ - I have to finish this damn thing twice over before January 14th, but I'm not even halfway now. I'm going to have to put a ban on DVD rentals (been watching West Wing for the past week), watching Foxtel (Vampire Diaries is on tonight!), reading City of Glass, Nicholas Nickleby, Sherlock Holmes, Sense and Sensibility, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief or Mein Kampf (Yes, I do indeed read far too many books at one time). And speaking of Hitler's book, I've had this one quote swirling around in my head for the past fortnight: Their swords shall become our plough, and from the tears of war the daily bread of future generations will grow.

I've organised files, etcetera. But the further I get from the beginning, the more I come up with to change the beginning. It's bloody ridiculous. The game plan, I believe, shall result in me going backwards for half of tomorrow, and then going forwards until my face melts off (I love the fact I can do that - hell yeah for school holidays!). You know, character voices is the bane of my existence. And my parents should probably remove the internet connection - my procrastination knows no bounds - since all I seem to do now is look up querying letters. (I have't finished yet! What is my problem?)

In closing, Lily Collins got cast as Clary in the Mortal Instruments movie. Read it here, the article comes from here. Clary is a teen, and Lily Collins, as seen below will pass as a teen. Bravo to the casting crew.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Show Me Yours, a Blogfest

Ooh, look! It's a post. Finally. I am aware that it's been a while, but I've been swept up in the NYE-slash-work-slash-revisions world that has now become my life. Anyways. A while ago, I signed up to a blogfest over at Falen Formulates Fiction , by the charming name of Show Me Yours . I know that to many northern hemisphere natives that it's only the 2nd of January, however, down here in Australia, it's the 3rd. Therefore, I am early. I couldn't find an excerpt from my NaNo, mostly because I haven't touched it since the 1st of December. This blogfest deadline really snuck up on me, and I don't really have time to comb through and then edit a scene, so I'll be lazy and give you an excerpt from my novel, RETURN, which is seizing my sanity and my sleep. It's meant to be 500 words, but I'm feeling rebellious and shall give you 650 or whatever it is. The Grog and Gruel was empty, or almost empty. Nightfall smothered the narrow pub, blackening th
23 comments
Read more

D'You Ever Get Those Umpteenth Draft Blues - They're Like the Mean Reds (Or, I Need to Buy HG Wells' Time Machine off Sheldon Cooper)

Say hip hip hooray for absurdly long titles. (And if you didn't catch those references, look here (at 2:50) and here ) I apologise profusely here, boyos. School has been an even greater burden that I'd ever imagined. If I want this mark I've been blabbering about, I am going to need to clone myself. Seriously. It's been a long week since I last spoke to you all and I'm afraid it may be another until I can break above the water. I'm drowning in homework, and core texts that I absolutely despise. In fact, I'm starting to look a little like this: And this glorious situation sparked me with inspiration as gracefully as lightning destroys a palm tree. Inspiration for, well, my blog. *Casts longing glance to manuscript in the corner* As I tried to straighten out my weekend to catch up on all the work I missed when I was sick this week, I realised that Saturday - my devout RETURN revisions day - was being consumed by extra reading/film viewing/art sketching for s
19 comments
Read more

Honey, I've Got a Non-Teen YA Protagonist (Or, "Mum, Dad, I'm Moving in With a 907 Year Old Time Lord")

I'm unsure whether I write this post more as a reader or as a writer. Alas, we shall have to stay tuned to see what the verdict is. Just very quickly before I begin, I'd like to divert your attention to another matter: the absolutely gorgeous Aimee L. Salter took time away from her life to write a post about none other than moi. And you know what? It made my week. A snapshot: "If her profile is to be believed, at just sixteen years old this chick has developed a voice, intellect and amusingly snide pretentiousness I can only aspire to". *Gives bow* Hon, I am indeed sixteen, seventeen in October. I also wish I could send you a planet or something gift-wrapped for the post. Now, age. Specifically, protagonist age. I see this matter pop up every-bloody-where . The basic question seems to be: can you classify a novel as YA if the protagonist doesn't fall within the Holy YA Age Range of thirteen to eighteen? And the general consensus? MCs beyond this range = très t
12 comments
Read more