My Daily Schedule

I guess you might wonder what writers do with their days while normal people are out working normal jobs. Well, if it's not obvious already, we write.

Actually, very little of my time is spent writing. I talk on the phone a lot, I read books, and I pick on my cat. Today I have had my laptop on for about three hours, and I have organized about two thousand words.

Hint the word 'organized.' I only wrote about five hundred today, but I found some writing I did awhile ago and added it to my new novel. That's why it's great to write every day, even if it's going nowhere. Sometimes, it ends up fitting in with your story.

This morning, my cat woke me up at six. I carried him out to the kitchen, made a big pot of coffee, and took a shower. I then read Good Housekeeping magazine, put on some mascara, and started the laptop.

I surfed the internet and wrote one or two sentences until eight, when I turned on Good Morning America. I watched and wrote, alternating until nine, when I answered a phone call and ate some cookies. Then I got back to work.

I don't do much in summer except writing. School is different. I write during class, in every class, throughout the day. I never stop writing when I am faced the responsibility to do something else.

Ugh, homework.

Seeing how today is my last day of summer before I start school again, I'm using it well.

Alice is coming over! YAY!

I Will Never Sympathize With Stupid Teenagers

 

There is a terrific thunderstorm outside, so I've taken it upon myself to light some candles and write naturally. Except for the whole laptop thing.

I was pretty upset today when I heard one of my teenage friends advertising how he got to go buy stuff from a liquor store. Like, come on. You aren't even close to the legal age.

And he put pictures of what he bought in his blog. While, in my blog, I have pictures of novel covers. Like I am making right now.

I do have to say, I'm giddy about it. Me and Alice's novel-- still Untitled as of the moment, is halfway done. It's beautiful, actually. I've gotten a little into it, so I downloaded a free trial of Corel Paint Shop Pro Photo X2, and I am going to make a cover. I'm super happy. We are putting on photos of our ideal main characters... Blake Lively and Nick Jonas.

Or at least, my ideas of the main characters. As Alice suddenly stopped IMing me as we were deciding.

But whatever! I feel creative.

Studying Writers. Like Meg Cabot, I mean.

Okay, I was reading Ready or Not by Meg Cabot, and in the first two pages... there are about six of these.

"_____________________. ____________, I mean."

I love Meg Cabot. She is my favourite writer. But she is always saying .. I mean. It's starting to get a little annoying. As much as I love you Meg, BAN THAT WORD FROM YOUR VOCABULARY. Mean, I mean.

Long Time, No Updates!

So I abandoned the blog a little because I started writing a new novel. Around halfway in, I realized the novel had the same idea as The Uglies by Scott Westerfield. Considering I never even heard of that book until today, it made me pretty mad. How often do we come up with ideas that someone else has already taken?

The answer is always.

So you fell in love with your bestfriend's boyfriend/fioncee/husband etc. That's already a book, or more than one. There's many actually.

If you are in desperate need of an idea!, which most writers are who are like me, and not Alice... because Alice comes up with an idea or two everyday. Except she always abandons her novels for her new ideas... again. And again. And again.

I, nevertheless, can write a whole novel without getting a new idea. Then I wait for the next one. So, if you are like me, and still want practice but suck at ideas, try this.

Write out a scene from your favourite movie. Pick a scene, any scene, and describe it as if it was a novel. You know how some writers say "my books are so vivid to me, like a movie in my head." Pretend this is your movie. And write.

THE HOST COMES OUT TODAY

Hello world. The Host has been released. And I have little tolerance today, so I might just Take Things Out On The People Who Look Alike Because They Have No Brainpower.

Because, hello? They assume everything I write is about them. Which-- it's not. Sucks for them, I guess. If I write one thing, they are quick to make a comeback to it saying how I am the scum.

I have another word of advice for you people.
Do not aggravate an artist. That includes writer, artist, painter, actor.. etc. Writers (like me and probably some of you) get very angry when you diss them. Sometimes they get so angry they go out and write a whole story about a plan for revenge. (like me) Sometimes when you piss off a writer you can expect yourself to wind up in novels.

It's bad enough I have these people on my back, but writing stories help. I also have to deal with the fact that my friend, Rena, broke up with her boyfriend. AGAIN.

No, really. I know she is sad and everything -- BUT WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

Poetry

Well lately I have been writing alot of poems, mainly for the reason that they are simple. A simple poem can inspire people the same way a good novel can. Sometimes I've been turning my poems into songs, and my rock band plays them. Poems are a different medium to experiment with.


The Story of a Poem (Narrative Poem)


Prepared to ridicule himself, this fool
Is guarded against the jibes
Of those he thinks less inclined to self-criticism.
How then is he to gauge his faults
And turn them into something worthwhile?

How can he define his foolishness
If uncertain as to the extent of his limitations?
How can he begin to accept the advice of others -
'Go jump! ' 'Take a good hard look at yourself! ' 'Grow up! ' -
If he isn't prepared to be objective?

Unprepared to accept objectivity as objective
'I know what I know', he spouts
Ill-mannered, inconsiderate and obstinate.
How is he to assume the more demanding role
Of the one being spoken to?

No words, it seems,
Can convince him of his stupidity.
No words, that is,
Except his own.
Um.... ah.... um.... a poem takes form.

Ironically, loneliness is his theme
Nothing else can say what he wants to say.
Happiest is he, when miserable
Exposing his misery for all the world to see.
No one, it seems, is quite as miserable as he.

He takes care not to say too much
In case,
To make his point
He admits (in the mode of a tragic figure)
That there is nothing to say.

Logically, 'there is nothing to say' explains
His actions
Although failing to describe
What bothers him.
It seems that that can only be other people.

In them, real feelings express themselves
And a challenge presents itself for him to understand them
No matter
It is they not understanding him
That concerns me.

As querulous as it may sound
It is their obsession with 'reality'
That he objects to.
No amount of persuasion can convince them
That his feelings are real.

'Such as absurd notion demands an explanation'
He hears them say, but he is only prepared
To go on dreaming -
Observing others observing him
Observing them.

His sincerity
Isn't expressed in conventional terms.
Unbeknownst to them, he cares
And unknowingly they add to his suffering
As they refuse to acknowledge his feelings.

His suffering -
A product of a trivial pursuit
For universal meanings -
Is compounded by those who think him
Lacking.

***

Lacking in those human qualities
He most desires
He turns to someone, who,
Without her knowing,
Possesses them for him.

Kindly, she admits him -
Herself lacking the assurance
To comprehend the extent of his need.
She feels for him
As one would a child, an innocent, a poet.

His feelings exist in her eyes,
And his failings form
His 'uniqueness' -
A reason
For loving him.

Sufficent reason, in itself,
For him to love her.
Nevertheless he feels
An even greater need
To justify his feelings.

Their differences,
His reliance on her
And, equally,
Hers on him
Need explaining.

As others see it
Their differences contain the germs of disunity,
And in their interdependence, signs of submission.
Again they see things in 'real terms'
Neglecting to take into account the power of the imagination.

She isn't what she appears to be
Her beauty transcends experience
With all pain absorbed in her -
He shares in her happiness
And is privy to her sensitivity.

She instills in him a new faith,
Another reason to write -
A belief in humanity.
This is what he must explain
To those who think him foolish.

But he remains aloof
Barred by a certain quirk in his character -
Whenever he tries to be serious
He gives the impression
Of being insincere.

When he tries to explain his feelings
It's as if he is the one
Who needs to be convinced -
His new found faith seems void
Without someone else to believe it.

Yet people want to listen
And give him the chance he's been looking for -
The chance to prove himself to them.
They're not heartless,
And would rather not judge anyone unfairly.

The truth is, however,
That he is such a fool
That he needs to hear his own words
From someone else's mouth
Before he can believe them.

I've Been Away..

My internet has been basically as screwed as Mia in Princess Mia by Meg Cabot. I love Meg Cabot, and I have been reading her books since I was nine. I've learnt about things I probably shouldn't have when other girls my age were riding bicycles and drawing cats. I've always been different. But yeah, my internet sucks. I wanted to try Mobile Blogging, but my cellphone is about as dumb as... these stupid similies.

Get my drift?

Anyways, it's bad enough I don't even live in the U.S, which adds to my dumb you-can't-mobile-blog-from-your-phone situation. So, I must live with what I have... and go chill at an internet cafe or something.

Speaking of Meg Cabot, her new book Airhead is coming out on May 13. I am so excited. Seriously, I've become almost as obsessive with writing fan fiction for this novel, than I am for hisgoldeneyes.com. Which, I may add, has the update on Twilight The Movie information 24/7.
For example, THE TWILIGHT TEASER WILL BE BEFORE THE MOVIE SPEED RACER!

Which is reason enough to go, for me at least.

Signed, Reading Roxanne

The Host

Some writers say they cannot read while they are writing books, because they get the plot lines messed up. I, am not one of them. I'm extremely excited for THE HOST by Stephenie Meyer. AKA: Author of the Twilight Saga.. my favourite books.

Melanie Stryder refuses to fade away.

Our world has been invaded by an unseen enemy. Humans become hosts for these invaders, their minds taken over while their bodies remain intact and continue their lives apparently unchanged. Most of humanity has succumbed.

When Melanie, one of the few remaining "wild" humans is captured, she is certain it is her end. Wanderer, the invading "soul" who has been given Melanie's body, was warned about the challenges of living inside a human: the overwhelming emotions, the glut of senses, the too vivid memories. But there was one difficulty Wanderer didn't expect: the former tenant of her body refusing to relinquish possession of her mind.

Wanderer probes Melanie's thoughts, hoping to discover the whereabouts of the remaining human resistance. Instead, Melanie fills Wanderer's mind with visions of the man Melanie loves—Jared, a human who still lives in hiding. Unable to separate herself from her body's desires, Wanderer begins to yearn for a man she has been tasked with exposing. When outside forces make Wanderer and Melanie unwilling allies, they set off on a dangerous and uncertain search for the man they both love.

I'm so excited, I am re-reading Eclipse. Again. Out of all of the Saga, Twilight is my favourite, then Eclipse, then New Moon. Team Edward, all the way, man.

Books are amazing.

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

ywriter 4 .. AMAZING.

Sorry it's been so late. I am seriously obsessed with finishing my book.

WORD COUNT: 9610 ...

I don't have much to write, except I read The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold... and it was AMAZING. Like seriously. I almost cried.

A young girl who was brutally raped and murdered, watches the effects of her death on her family from Heaven, as her parents drift apart, her father becomes obsessed with vengeance and her sister grows into the woman she would never be.



And the best part, is they are in post-production for the movie!

Well, I'm off to make coffee and write. I can't sleep.

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

Happy Birthday to You

Today is my birthday, and guess what I asked for? BOOKS. From everywhere. My friends & family bought me books, and for spending my birthday money? On used books with Alice.

My book is going well, I changed my main character from Fortney. I actually don't like that name, at all. Fortney. Yuck.

Well, I'm off.
Birthday bumps are straight ahead.

Love, Reading Roxanne

Shopaholic Takes Manhattan.. Early

So they are making a Shopaholic movie.. except it is set in New York. I don't see how they can do that, since it's a big thing that Becky MOVES to New York in the second book. Plus, Britain is just.. it! It is supposed to be in Britain.

This is devestating. I didn't even know till I watched StarDaily. Or I think that was what I watched. Now, I'm outie. I got Twilight back!

Signed, Reading Roxanne

Misogynistic

misogynistic - hatred or distrust of women.

Well, it's been a whole .. four days since I have written. Wow, it feels like a month. I have actually had a social life.. can you believe it? For the past two weeks I have been trapped like a caged monkey (but on my own free will of course) and now, people are coming to see ME.


I had the experience of entering my first tattoo parlor last night, and let me tell you, it was different. This made me think of an exercise. What kind of character could you make that was the exact opposite of you?

If you make this character nice, does that mean you are mean? Does that mean your character thinks she is nice? If you have low self-esteem, does she have high, since you think you are mean, and she is vice-versa? What character traits would you have in an alternate universe? How could you make a story from that?

I finally recieved my copy of Twilight back from my friend, thankfully. She just got the experience of a lifetime, the guy she has fallen in love with for the past year, kissed her. Finally, I say, since this sexual tension between them was anything but misogynistic.

Back to Twilight.

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

I Want My Copy Of Twilight, Please.

My friend has hijacked my copy of Twilight. I lent it to her last week, ON A TUESDAY, like today is.. & she is still not done. What is this world coming to?

I am going a little crazy, because I read novels like this - TWILIGHT, NEW MOON, ECLIPSE, TWILIGHT, NEW MOON, ECLIPSE .. how am I supposed to do that if I don't have Twilight?

Gabe and Rena are fine.. so don't worry. They were faking it? I don't actually know much, but I do know that I NEED MY COPY OF TWILIGHT.

So until then, I am going a little mad. I kept telling my friend, READ IT ALREADY! But she won't.

"Not all of us are fast readers like you Roxanne.." she says.

"Well maybe if you took a little time YOU COULD FINISH IT." I say. Because really, I think she NEEDS TO GIVE IT BACK. TWILIGHT IS LIKE.. MY BOYFRIEND.

WHY WOULD SHE TAKE MY BOYFRIEND?

Anyways.. I need to find a new book to read until I get Twilight back. So last night I took a turn in reading Meg Cabot's Size 12 Is Not Fat.

HEATHER WELLS ROCKS!
Or, at least, she did. That was before she left the pop-idol life behind after she gained a dress size or two—and lost a boyfriend, a recording contract, and her life savings (when Mom took the money and ran off to Argentina). Now that the glamour and glory days of endless mall appearances are in the past, Heather's perfectly happy with her new size 12 shape (the average for the American woman!) and her new job as an assistant dorm director at one of New York's top colleges. That is, until the dead body of a female student from Heather's residence hall is discovered at the bottom of an elevator shaft. The cops and the college president are ready to chalk the death off as an accident, the result of reckless youthful mischief. But Heather knows teenage girls . . . and girls do not elevator surf. Yet no one wants to listen—not the police, her colleagues, or the P.I. who owns the brownstone where she lives—even when more students start turning up dead in equally ordinary and subtly sinister ways. So Heather makes the decision to take on yet another new career: as spunky girl detective! But her new job comes with few benefits, no cheering crowds, and lots of liabilities, some of them potentially fatal. And nothing ticks off a killer more than a portly ex-pop star who's sticking her nose where it doesn't belong . . .

It was good, too. After that, I tried to read Confessions of a Shopaholic. But I knew I had to work on my own novel, and all this present-tense was distracting me. So, I buckled down and wrote a bit.. but not much.

I'm too lazy for my own good, but that was because Say Anything was on last night. It's one of my favourite movies! (=

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

Boys In Books Are Just Better

Rena and her boyfriend, Gabe are probably broken up. Gabe seems to have 'commitment issues'. I have to be the if you dumped him, why are we eating ice-cream? friend.

Which is why, boys in books are just better. I think everyone should write more novels with boys like Edward Cullen. Because really, who is going to get their heart broken by a guy in paper? When you have aspirations like having your boyfriend treat you like Edward treats Bella, you KNOW better than to let some dumb fool tear you down. You say, "No. I have rights. You should treat me like this, and if you can't, we can't be together."

Which is why, I have collected some icons for you guys. ( =

Maybe They Aren't So Brainwashed..

Okay, well the people I have decided to be nice to even though they are brainwashed.. are actually nice. I thought they were being nice to me for the sake of it, but I think they like me? I'm still unsure because I am all like, yeah! okay! sounds good! <3. while they are like, uhm, okay. that sounds sweet. Maybe I am being strange or something, but I am really enthusiastic.

Other than that, I read today that 90% of all publishers want the first chapter. So your first chapter has to be amazing.

My friend, Alice and I are writing a novel. I said that already, right? Well she says serious authors cannot be corny. So we have cut the cornyness out of our book.

Now for a trip down Stephenie Meyer Lane, the author of Twilight has a tip.

S: You don't have to write the book in order. Write every scene you are interested in, and piece them together later.

You see! Good advice. I spent about three hours typing my novel today. =) You can do it.

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

PS: For anyone obsessed with Twilight & it's movie, I found a page of pics.

http://amhphotography.typepad.com/photos/kalama/index.html

You Are Intoxicated By My Presence.

My best friend, Rena, says she's not into vampire novels. She likes depressing novels. Well, WHO IS NOT INTO VAMPIRE NOVELS? Anyways, after a long arguement, I have decided to recommend some dark & depressing novels, for anyone like Rena.

Crank : by ellen hopkins.

Crank definitly fits this mold, this is one of Rena's favourite books. Guess who recommended it to her? It tells the story of seventeen year old Kristina, a typical good girl who meets the monster. It's written entirely in poems, but the poems deepen with depressing thoughts as we watch Kristina's struggle to overcome her new addiction.

Shattering Glass : by gail giles.

Simon Glass was easy to hate. I never knew exactly why, there was too much to pick from. I guess, really, we each hated him for a different reason, but we didn’t realize it until the day we killed him. When Rob, the charismatic leader of the senior class, decides to turn the sniveling class nerd in Prince Charming, his cruel challenge leads to violence and death.

Right Behind You : gail giles.

This one is one of my favourite books ! (=

What I know: On his seventh birthday, I set Bobby Clarke on fire. I was nine. Star swimmer, loyal friend, and good looking, too. “Perfect”—that’s how they describe his life. But no one knows he’s got a past. No one knows that he’s seen what nightmares are made of, or that he spent four long years in a juvenile ward. That his best friends were hardened criminals. They don’t even know his real name.

Go Ask Alice : anonymous.

When a middle-class teen returns to her hometown for the summer, she unwillingly ingests LSD in a bottle of Coca-Cola. Now we watch the diary entries of our new friend and how different drugs can affect her once-perfect life.

Oh damn, damn, damn, it's happened again. I don't know whether to scream with glory or cover myself with ashes and sackcloth, whatever that means. Anyone who says pot and acid are not addicting is a damn, stupid, raving idiot, unenlightened fool! I've been on them since July 10, and when I've been off I've been scared to death to even think of anything that even looks or seems like dope. All the time pretending to myself that I could take it or leave it!

Well, I have a novel to write and a shower to take.

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

PS : For all you struggling writers click http://www.creativewritingprompts.com/# .

It will help you unleash your writers block!

What A Stupid, Masochistic Lion.

[masochistic, adjective 1. deriving pleasure or sexual gratification from being abused or dominated ]

Since my obsession with the Twilight Saga isn't something that can be cured, I'm hopeless. Literally hopeless. I have spent the last three hours reading interviews, outtakes, etc. I am completely obsessed. It's bad enough I LENT MY COPY OF TWILIGHT TO MY BEST FRIEND, who is a very slow reader, compared to moi. She has had it for a week, and only read 112 pages. I can read that in less than an hour.

So until then, I have set up my welfare computer, which has no connection to the internet.. to write on. It's going well, except I am using wordpad, and there is NO WORD COUNT. But at least I am transferring all my work for my novel from my Red Mead Notebook, which seemed to have lost years after the Diet Coke With Lime incident.

Except my novel is a LONG way from being REMOTELY finished. Considering my lack of descriptiveness & detail, but I really wanted to just get to the parts that INTEREST me.

Now, I have some novel work to do, and a large slice of Pumpkin Pie to eat. What can I say? I've been craving it. Do yourselves a favor & read Twilight.

Or on second thought, don't. It's so good it might make you stop writing all together.. or just become obsessed like me.

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

Edward Cullen Can't Pee!

Sad as I am to say the news, EDWARD CULLEN CANNOT PEE. My friend and I have been debating this, and I am to say, "Well this sucks." We spent hours on this last night. I know, I am supposed to be writing my novel instead of talking on the phone, but it was about novels! My friend and I also came up with an idea and now we are co-writing.

It's exciting. I know. Anyways, since I talked so long last night, I am starved for novels. So please excuse me while I run off to.. write.

Dead Girls Don't Use Facebook

Maybe I should stop buying brand names. I mean, I don't buy big shirts with the symbols on them. I just buy normal clothes, or sweaters or something. But obviously, if you buy brands AND try and be different from the crowd, you .. "think you are so original .. but your not."

That's what my hater said. This person is so dead to me. Plus, I don't even know who it is, because it's anonymous. I should stop lying and be positive all the time, because things like this put me in a bad mood and make me lie. I lie because there was more to that message, but I am not going to tell anyone what else it said.

I don't think I'm non-original though. I do think I know who it is, but I am not going to call them on it. It's part of my Try And Be Nice To Everyone Even If They All Look Alike Because They Have No Brainpower thing. Which I am starting today. However, this blog doesn't count, because it's a way to get things out without resorting to Taking Things Out On The People Who Look Alike Because They Have No Brainpower, like I have done in the past.

Anyways, today I went bowling, and I brought a book. Most people looked at me, but I am used to it. I seem to be one of the only people who brings a book anywhere, like to church. It's impolite to read during church, they tell me. But I say, who cares? As long as I am there, you shouldn't pick on me for doing something educational, and not sitting for an hour without using my mind. A lady at bowling said,

"That must be a good book." I nodded at her, trying not to look up. It was a crucial part.

"What's it called?" she asked again.

"Eclipse." I finally looked up, and smiled. I turned and showed her the cover, which I then realized wasn't on. Since it was a hardcover, I took the cover off, because I am bad at losing things.

No one is reading this blog yet, which is actually a relief. If People Who Look Alike Because They Have No Brainpower read it, they would automatically know they were People Who Look Alike Because They Have No Brainpower. I've called them many names in the past, often to their face, so that is probably why they hate me so much. At least they put on a cheery disposition, and I pretend to do the same, until I get home and write my hostility into my novel.

Good thing I am anonymous, since The People Who Look Alike Because They Have No Brainpower might have a little brainpower to recognize themselves. But they are dead to me. I am off to finish reading another Gail Giles novel, Dead Girls Don't Write Letters. I strongly encourage you to read her shit. It's so dark and creepy, I can't get enough. I'll write later tonight when I am not so angry.

Signed, Reading Roxanne.

Hello, Fellow Neophytes.

[ ne·o·phyte /ˈniəˌfaɪt/ –noun 1. a beginner or novice ]

I have had exactly one week of spring break, and I have been acting socially unacceptable. Sitting on a slow, Windows Vista Screwed computer, I am blogging. To make me even more loserish, I am blogging under a fake name about something most people find stupid. Not like I care what they think, nevertheless, they will never find me here.

I have another ten days of spring break, and you know what I did today? It's my best friends birthday and I went to the library with a fellow reader/writer. I got out 19 hardcover novels, and I have already read six. In six hours. Doing the math, that's about a novel an hour, because they were all about the same size. I really am a loser.

Like today, when my own novel, disguised in a spiral notebook with ALGEBRA on the cover, got Diet Coke With Lime spilt on it. I freaked out. I freaked out so much I had to take an old newspaper to clean it. It was after all, over fifty pages of a short book I was penning over break. The people on the subway watched me spaz, and I heard whispering.

So now I am stuck home for the next two days, as my parents are babysitting. It's not like I can go to a friend's house, no. I have to spend time with the kids. Okay, I'm not really complaining, because I have 13 novels left and one of my own to write. Just don't tell my friends, because they don't know how much I want to be alone and read.

For all you teens out there penning your own novel/memoir, here's what I have to say to you. Protect your work. You never know when a simple Diet Coke With Lime can spill on your notebook, causing a few pages to stick together. Don't worry, it's okay. But I am keeping guard!

Signed, Reading Roxanne