Friday, 22 November 2013

I will write

I will write in words of fire.
I will write them on your skin.
I will write about desire.
Write beginnings, write of sin.
You’re the book I love the best,
your skin only holds my truth,
you will be a palimpsest
lines of age rewriting youth.
You will not burn upon the pyre.
Or be buried on the shelf.
You’re my letter to desire:
And you’ll never read yourself.
I will trace each word and comma
As the final dusk descends,
You’re my tale of dreams and drama,
Let us find out how it ends.

— Neil Gaiman

No NaNoWriMo for me this year. I have gotten started with the editing of last year's masterpiece, though. Only a tiny bit, but still. And as often happens in my projects, the ambitions have gotten entirely out of hand. It's going to be three books, and I'm bloody well gonna say 'fuck you' to moderation and cram in every epic concept that has popped into my head regarding this story. It is my first really long one, so I'm gonna allow it to go absolutely bananas. I have no idea if I will succeed in tying it all together successfully, seeing as I don't even know the ending yet and have half a million loose threads and plotholes, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that stop me. Attempting to do slightly impossible things is one of my favourite hobbies, after all. I'm inspired as hell, at least. It's such a great feeling. But mostly I'm in love. Which means ridiculously easily distracted, so don't expect any productivity on my part anytime soon. Eheh.

Love and writing,

Sunday, 3 November 2013

Amanda Palmer, fever and awesomeness

Been back for just over a week now. Presently lying at home, snivelling and coughing, attempting to defeat a cold. I shouldn't be surprised; what with coming home just in time for cold season and getting thrown into cold, dark and rain it is not more than could be expected. And it's not so bad, really. A couple more days of reading and movie-watching, and I should be back on my feet before long.

I miss La Palma. I miss it like crazy. Yet it is good to be back. Coming home just in time for a gaming convention, and getting to LARP and roleplay and play boardgames with most of my favourite friends was as good a welcoming home as it gets. Even went for a run with company, which was also great fun. I really hope I'll stop coughing before long, because I can hardly wait to get out again.

And this halloween. Oh my gods, it was the best halloween ever. Resolutely ignoring my feverish and infected state, I went to see Amanda Fucking Palmer live in concert in Copenhagen together with a very dear friend. Was it ever awesome! We made friends with some very nice and cool people already in the line. Oh, I do hope we'll get to meet them again! Then we danced and jumped and sang along to so many great songs. When she asked for requests I entreated her to play Ampersand, and I thought I would faint with excitement when she actually did.

I'm not gonna live my life on one side of an ampersand
And even if I went with you I'm not the girl you think I am
And I'm not gonna match you, 'cause I'll lose my voice completely
No I'm not gonna watch you, 'cause I'm not the one that's crazy

And then after the show I got to talk to her, and despite only having the presence of mind to stammer forth some expressions of my love and admiration for her I got both hugs and kisses in return. *swooon* It still makes me giddy just to think about it. Seriously, she is such an amazing person!

Such a splendid night, totally worth the increase in fever and the ruined voice the day after. Now I'll go back to eating silly amounts of fruit and read books. Just finished The Count of Monte Cristo, which I greatly enjoyed. Also the manga Hellsing, which I hardly enjoyed at all. Somehow the story just kept failing to interest me. Up next is a re-read of The Hobbit (last time was in Swedish ten years ago, so it's about time) and also the Gormenghast trilogy. Mmm. As long as I have books to read I shall never be bored.

There is neither happiness nor misery in the world. There is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die […] that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life.
— Alexandre Dumas (The Count of Monte Cristo)

Love and good times,