I am kaitco

a writer's log

Defining nothing Monday, January 17, 2011

I’d like to say that I got absolutely nothing accomplished today, but that’s just plain incorrect.

I wrote somewhere between 300 and 1,000 words, but since I can’t remember where I ended when I last counted, I’m not entirely sure if that was before midnight, after midnight, or right as midnight was passing. Since I can’t pin it down, I get to claim nothing, though from here on out I’ll be including the last few words I wrote when I last counted (then managed to score on the freshman goalie.)

Aside from the writing that may or may not have occurred in the last 24 hours, I spent most of the day lying in bed, then discovering music and video games I’d like to buy. The music was the fun part (Janelle Monae!!), but the video games made me realize how much more earnestly I need to create and stick to a budget. All in all, I haven’t done “nothing,” but I just can’t call what I’ve done today “something.”

I suppose it feels that way when I spend more than half the day asleep and then most of the other half playing Lego Star Wars and Final Fantasy X, but outside of not taking down my hair, I don’t think I’ve missed all that much.

Anyhoo…whenever it was, last night or to-night, I tried facing the wall I’ve recently hit head on and ended up with the equivalent of a big bruise on my forehead. It’s just a mess, a muddled, convoluted mess!

Even after I manage to make sure that Damen doesn’t seem in love with Britiana, I’ve practically shot myself in the foot with the scene where Zach calls her the NP and Corey makes references to “those people.” Perhaps I’m putting too much of myself into Damen, but I really can’t see him continuing to befriend Corey if Corey comes out with the whole “bred like dogs” to be better athletes thing this early. So, I started into this whole drivel about Corey and Brit liking each other when they were kids, but the whole thing came out so laughable that had no choice but to make Damen crack up at the description, when I really need the scene to remain a bit dark. That’s when I quit for the night.

I doubt I’ll get anymore written tonight, tomorrow or whatever. Nothing significant, that is. I’ve got to sit down and just contemplate what’s going on and why these characters are behaving the way they are. I know it’s right in front of me. I just haven’t looked hard enough yet or, to quote “The X-Files” (because I saw Ms. Anderson in a bit of “Bleak House” this afternoon and I’m totally in the mood for an X-Fileathon): The answers are there, [I] just have to know where to look.

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