I'm bored and you get to suffer

Query: How many words is the average novel? I've heard 50,000-100,000, but I've also heard 200,000-250,000, and that's a fairly major discrepancy.

Bored out of my skull.

It's dead out here. There is absolutely nothing happening.

At. All.

I work. I sleep. I work out. I talk on the phone. I randomly annoy people on AIM. Stare at the corner.

I'm starting to ponder hitch hiking to Whitehorse or something, just for a change of pace. At least it would get me away from my sister's latest "I'm so literary and you're so *not*" kick. It's getting to the point where not writing a 'Dear Sis' letter is trying. Read what you want to read, because you want to read it, gal. Not because you think it makes you smarter than me, and you want to lord it and your poetry over me. You think you're smarter than me. I get it. You think you're a poet, and I am a literary hack who can't string together a proper sentence. I get it. Moving on, now...


::Sigh:: The novel is not behaving. Remember that promise I made my English teacher? No? Okay, would've been rather surprised if you had. Moving on. It seems I'm getting so caught up with making sure I know my characters that I'm having a hard time smacking them into the present.

I only have one strong fic-ish idea I have right now. Having only one real idea is, for me, a thing in and of itself. This however, a Gen-X/X-Force AU, is twisted and snarled and knotted enough that this may be a good thing. Karma Downs didn't take on a life of its own until somewhere around chapter 5 or 6. This one, Higher Ground, only made the second part.

Things blew up. Large, important things.

I didn't see that coming.

The assassination was also unplanned.

::Head on desk::

Oh, and yay! Rec! All mine!

Yes, I'm a self-centred twat.

The other day, I purchased three shirts and four books for $33. I love Value Village. ::G::

Yes, I'm poor.



Bored. So very, very bored. Perhaps I'll make a run to the city to hit the library tomorrow. Rural Saskatchewan is dead at the moment.

::Looks cute:: Entertain me? Spam me, hit me on AIM, recommend a book, inform that you've been faking all along and can't stand the sight of me. Regale me with an anecdote involving three bottles of whiskey and a trained monkey. Let me know that there's a LJ out there that I absolutely should be reading. Yell at me for not yet writing your request fic.

Heck, request a new one, or smack me across the back of the head to work on something.

I'd say ask me a question, any question, but no one ever seems to actually do so when I offer...