Friday, October 23, 2009

Thing I've Learned #30: If the Notebook Doesn't Work, It Doesn't Work. End of Discussion.

Sheesh. It's not even November and I'm already behind with my blogging.

Speaking of November. I starting taking notes on my novel yesterday! SHEER EXCITEMENT. But on Wednesday, when I pulled out the notebook I was going to use, I took one look at it and thought, "I hate this." So I ran downstairs and informed my mother I needed to take an emergency trip to the office supply store to get one that wasn't revolting.

The notebook conundrum works like this:
One, the writer may choose the notebook. The notebook may be chosen for several reasons, least among them being size, design, or paper quality/design/style. When this happens, said writer often amasses a large pile of unused and unopened notebooks. I myself have 13, counting the one I hate.
Two, the notebook may choose the writer. When a writer has a story in mind and is in need of a notebook, they can go find one. This notebook must fit the story, whether by color, design, symbolism, it doesn't matter. But above all, it must feel right. Now this may sound a lot like the writer choosing the notebook, but it is not! I tell you true, you will eventually pick one up, and it will be the one.
Three, these two points are proven by the absolute, unshakable fact that if your notebook does not feel right, and you write in it anyway, your story will die. There is no way to get around this. It is certain.

Non-writers tend not to understand these things. Hence my mother was rather peeved that I forced her to drive me to the store.

Story notes are breathtakingly exciting. It's when you first began to catch a glimpse of your novel, ugly and awkward as a hairless newborn, but beautiful in it's potential. You start to work out your character's quirks, get inside their head, see what makes them tick. It's my favorite part, aside from the actual writing. So how about a little sample of what I jot down, and also a brief look at some of my characters?

The Girl- Long, silky blue-black hair, huge, huge blue eyes. Long eyelashes, winged eyebrows, fine features, full lips. Delicate frame and creamy skin.

The China Doll- Tight chocolate brown ringlets, glass green eyes. Porcelain complexion and thin, fragile looking body. Soft-spoken, shy, emotional.

The Angel- Perfect blonde curls, sky blue eyes that are slightly almond shaped. Angular features and a charming smile. Sweet, compassionate, and sees right through everyone.

The Fireball- Wavy dark red hair, mesmerizing green-gold eyes, dark, dark lashes and a smoldering gaze. Carefree, sexy smile and an attitude problem. Bold, mischievous, snarky, and foul-mouthed. His figure is lean and rough, but very sensual. Has a temper.

The Gentleman- Ash blonde hair with face framing bangs and gray eyes. Strong build but not stocky. Refined, sophisticated, and classy. All charm and polite speech.

The Swan- His complexion is honey and cream; honey eyes, cream skin, and sheets of honey-cream hair. Narrow face, long neck, and long limbs. Elegant and serene, every move is the epitome of grace.

The Exotic- Long jet black hair, dark skin, and piercing gold eyes. Lithe and animalistic, black tattoos wind across his body. Fierce but sultry.

The Kid- Thick, curly black hair, bright gray eyes. Mischievous, petulant, and trouble causing. Long, lanky, and extremely flexible.

A brief sketch on the boys of the Blue Phoenix, as referred to as stereotypes rather than names. But perhaps you know a little what they look like now? Providing you know which is which, of course. ;) Okay, so I'll tell you. Aisha, Bailey, Sanvi, Marce, Valentino, The Swan (goddammit he needs a name), Ha'ri, and Kit, respectively.

Nothing interesting happened to me today. Aside from the NaNote taking. Sorry. Despite the occasional snips I deign to post here, my life is generally boring. Hate to disappoint you.

Oh wait! Wait! Something interesting DID happen to me! Okay, so last night while my parents were out to dinner, I discovered this lovely show on the History channel called Sex in the Ancient World. The episode being about the sex trade in Pompeii. And I, being a good little writer, decided to watch it. For research, naturally. (When my parents got home I bolted upstairs with a glass of milk and a smile wider than the Mariana Trench.)
This is what I learned:
Pompeii was the home of the world's oldest known brothel.
Lupinara means "den of the she-wolves" in Latin, and was the term used to describe a brothel.
Romans craved sex for power, not pleasure.
Romans, in general, were whores.
The emperors did little to discourage this attitude. In fact, they encouraged it.
Hour well spent. Next was an episode about porn in ancient Egypt.
This is what I learned:
Egyptians thought sex graffiti was just as funny as we do.
Egyptians were, as EB would say, "Male chauvinistic bastards."
Gods are allowed to be open about their sex lives. Mortals are not.
Tattooing a chubby, ugly man on your thigh prevents you from getting STD's.
Egyptians had a serious hair fetish.
Egyptians wrote love poetry to rival Byron's "She Walks in Beauty."
Yet another hour well spent.

They talked about tattoos, which got me thinking about Ha'ri. By the way, if you haven't figured it out yet, everything leads back to my word babies with me. Anyway, so I was thinking about Ha'ri's tattoos (and texting with Sarah about this. At 11:30 at night. Oh lawd.) and how sensual they really are. The ones on his upper body are completely innocent, but on his hip and Even before Ciro and Ha'ri are together, Ciro can't help the little lurch of lust in his stomach every time he sees them. And when they are together, well, Ciro can't keep his hands (and lips) off of them. And it's not what the tattoo is that makes it so irresistible. It's just a pattern of black dots that spirals around Ha'ri's body. It's the places it touches that makes it sexy. The inside of his upper thigh, in between his crotch and his leg, over his hip bone, and across his extremely lower back, about as close as you can get to his tailbone without being on his ass. Hot damn. No wonder Ciro can't help but touch him. Especially when Ha'ri gets out of the bath. And a drop of water just runs down the curve of his tattoo...

This post was super long to make up for all the short ones that I've being doing recently. =]

Quote of the Day: "She's got a face that could launch a thousand ships in the opposite direction."

9 more days! Ohmigod!

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