Again, like the last one, there were a few weird grammar things. However. they were not as noticeable this time -- is that the translator getting better? I don't know.
Kyon definitely seem smarter in this book than the last one. If you've ever heard that he's supposed to be an expert on a lot of things but just doesn't show it in school, he really doesn't show it in that first book, either. This book is better about it, and I hope it continues. I don't care if Asahina is faking through this book, it's Kyon's reaction to her which is the annoying part. Yuki continues her badassery, though.
The first thing I thought when I finished this book was when the next one will come out. That is a good sign, I suppose.
- Mood:
hungry - Music:"She's Got Me Dancing," Tommy Sparks
x > 0 , y > 0
x + y < 4
2x + 3y < 16
What I mean to say, is, well, if I've been a histrionic bitch to you in the past few days, this is why. I turn into a completely different person when I'm hurt/sick/whatever.
I apologize for causing anybody any undue distress.
- Mood:
distressed - Music:"Take Me Out" Franz Ferdinand
Originally published at Inarticulations. You can comment here or there.
I’m not a Christian. I’m not an anything really, but i was brought up by Christians and so once a year my family gathers and we eat and talk, and some of us are happy that Christ was born.
( I dig Jesus, he’s all right by me, he sounds like he was a pretty interesting guy and obviously I know and love many people who are Christian, so this is not a bashing post by any means.)
But yeah, for me, personally Christmas is not a religious holiday, it’s a family one, and so when a certain very cool Giraffe posted this I fell in love.
This is the only Christmas song that has made me both laugh and cry.
The first thing in there looks good. maybe there's not enough in it for a full-length novel, but it might be a good short story. I'll have to take a closer look at it.
I've also been thinking back to other things I've tried to write: With Heirs Like These, Sisu #128, and Tumbleweed House. For some reason they still sort of seem appealing to me, but especially the first thing I found in the notebook that I don't think I've ever posted a scrap of here. I'm guessing I'm getting all nostalgic probably because I restarted that last fanfiction with Ashkenazim, and now everything I've written somewhat recently is coming back up in my brain.
It feels weird to find old stories with merit. Typically, if I read something old, I hate it. Then again, there was a lot of crap between the things I mentioned that still sort of almost sounded good, and now that I think about it, most of these things weren't really written that long ago.
Anyway, Just some stupid musings for today. I have no idea what I'm talking about. I need to be studying for finals, I have two hard ones this week, probably my hardest one tomorrow in Calc II. I need to get cracking. Maybe this weekend, after these first two finals they shouldn't be so bad.
- Mood:
nostalgic - Music:"Miss Murder," AFI
i’ll have my iphone for the first
time while abroad this year. so i hope
to take random fotos and make tweets
while gone. check for my updates on
my twitter page. also if you are on twitter,
please add me! and happy holidays!
2010. wow.
Mirrored from Cindy Pon.
“I just want to know what happened to my soul, okay?”
Dad clears his throat.
“Harold,” Mom whispers.
“She’s got to know, Eleann. Especially if—if they’re right and she needs it back.”
Mom’s face turns a dark, mottled red. She nods. “Okay.”
Dad folds his hands and speaks over them. “We—sold it on ebay.”
I put my hands over my mouth and try not to scream. It comes out as a squeak instead.
He nods.
My mom reaches over to grab his hand. “We thought it was a silly little memento, baby.”
“You sold my soul.”
Dad pops a finger up, as if he is making a lecture. “Remember, we don’t believe in souls.”
“Well,” I say, “you should.”
My parents both have the propriety to look very ashamed.
“Who’d you sell it to?” I ask.
Mom looks down. “Sexybug48_69.”
“You sold my soul to someone with a handle like Sexybug?”
Dad glares at me. “Vera, he had a 99.7% approval rating. How were we supposed to turn that down?”
Originally published at Inarticulations. You can comment here or there.
And I’m reminded why I don’t use any chemicals or insecticides on my garden.
This morning when I stepped outside to go hang up the laundry, the garden was filled with white butterflies.
I can forgive my crinkle-leaved, holey, and much-nibbled plants for the chance to walk through wet grass while flotillas of butterflies rise up around me.
Cobbled Streets and gray skies
The smell of roasted chestnuts
Rubbing my mittened hands for warmth
as it pours from the café and shop windows
like sunshine on a summer day
But London is muted, dark too soon
beneath dense clouds
The Christmas decorations shimmer bright
colors: reds, golds and brilliant greens
Silver tinsel glitter like iced stars
I want a hot scone slathered in triple-clotted
cream and strawberry jam
-cwp 11/09
i have an email pen pal who is in elementary
school, and in our exchanges, i like to write
impromptu poems for her. i really enjoy it,
actually, because when i started writing, i began
with poetry. back then, i worried over each word,
each turn of phrase, recited them aloud hundreds
of times. (true story, i got a speeding ticket driving
home from college because i was too preoccupied
reciting a poem i had recently written.)
this one, of course, is just on a lark,
whatever came to mind as i thought about
my annual upcoming trip back to my favorite
city, london. =) but without my pen pal friend,
i wouldn’t have bothered writing poetry again.
it’s been…over a decade! so i always enjoy
our exchanges.
one funny thing about my household is
that we never watch dvds. but on black friday,
i saw The Tudors were on sale (marked down $50 for
the two seasons) and i could not resist. i have
a serious love and fascination for that time period.
of course, i see these people as “characters” in
a story, and it truly is a case of stranger than fiction.
could you concoct anything that could be so
wild and passionate and crazy as that time period?
if i could choose to go back and spy on anyone,
it would be on anne boleyn and
henry 8 together. as much as i admire and love
elizabeth I, it’s her mother that fascinates me
completely. i’m nearing the part where things
turn for her, and we all know her fate. i’ve read
it so many times. but watching it is different.
i’m anxious for her.
last night
me : what if i had sweet pea and
everyone wasn’t happy about it. then i have
another sweet pea and you chop my head off.
can you imagine that?
hub : laughing.
it sounds ridiculous right? but that was
what life and death hinged on for anne,
her ability to make babies and to make male ones.
even up to princess diana’s time, the sentiment
was the same. despite so many women who have
reigned over england so well, i think there is a
collective sigh when a boy is born.
how different history would have been if anne
boleyn had a healthy baby boy. but i can’t
imagine england’s past without elizabeth I.
her path to the throne and reign over england
couldn’t have made a better story!
now i have a huge crush on jonathan rhys meyers.
i mean just look at him! he’s absolutely dynamic
on screen. the writing isn’t to die for nor does the
story stay completely true to history, but seeing it unfold
is utterly compelling. you wonder why so many
fantasy stories feature kings and queens and those
in power, because they’re forced to make choices
and decisions commoners would never have to–
ones that can change history.
what would you be like if you believed you were
chosen by god to rule a country?
honestly, i don’t think you could pay me enough. ha!
we’re off to england on wednesday.
very excited but also anxious, as i always am
when i travel such long distances with the bubs.
i hope you all have a wonderful holiday break.
i couldn’t have had a more stupendous amazing year.
it’s a huge learning curve as a debut author, but a
hell of a fantastic ride.
wishing you much joyful surprises
in 2010! =D /bootay shake!
it’s the last chance for you to win
an awesome debs goodie bag from the
feast of awesome. =D just comment
to enter!
Mirrored from Cindy Pon.
Author: Me
Rating: PG
Characters: Ashkenazim, Sweden
( With the sheet changed, the smell still remained. )
- Mood:
cranky - Music:"I Can't Hide From My Mind," They Might Be Giants
He looked into her eyes, carefully, pleadingly. She studied his back.
No one ever looked at her in the eyes like that, anxiously.
"We need to know."
"Bullshit, all of it."
"I hate this."
"I just wish it would stop."
---
"Heart's are like clocks stella. Eventually they will have to stop."
"And what if my heart was a clock."
"It very well could be."
"That means my own heart stopped..."
---
"I want to know."
He grabbed Matador by the shoulders, picking him off the floor and the wreckage.
"What the fuck is there to you? What is your chemistry? Your physiology?"
"Those eyes! That smile! Tell me!"
---
"You need to tell me... Klaxon."
He folded his cold callused black hand over her petite white one. She stared at him, perhaps a little scared, she couldn't form the necessary words... it was too difficult. Instead she looked sadly back at Ulysses, topping his hand over her right, holding firm.
"I need to know because we need to protect him. We are reaching a critical period now, and we need as much information as possible."
She closed her eyes.
---
"What are you doing here."
"Oh, it's only you Cora..."
Dewey relaxed suddenly. emerging out of the shadows of the alley.
"Answer my question."
His face hardened.
"You're too grown up now you know." She grimaced at his face, eyeing him from head to toe, he was wearing a yellow Traje de Luces, a young colete keeping his hair in place. "And that... you really are becoming a matador..."
"What are you doing here Dewey."
---
Matador's head sunk, Amphi let his hold slacken and his captive sank to the ground, limp. Amphi examined his hand, now ripe with fresh blood.
"I know everything about you that's been disclosed." He breathed heavily. "I know your woman, your little portrait son..." He procured a tissue from the inside of his pocket. "But more importantly, I know what you've done."
"Marvolus." Matador choked. supporting himself slowly. Spitting blood from a freely bleeding mouth. "You aren't.... you're..."
"No, I'm not some disciple of stain." Amphi finished. "I'm freelance."
---
"It's hard to remember now..." Klaxon whispered, looking into her lap. "Ever since... I met him... things have been blurred, distorted."
Ulysses stared. Containing his breaths.
"It wasn't long before I forgot who I was... after my parents died... I forgot them... I forgot their faces... their names..." She withdrew her hands suddenly.
"I forgot everything, and I could only find my reflection in him. He was the only reminder I had of myself."
"But what about him? Who is he?" Ulysses asked. "What is he?"
Klaxon looked up, Ulysses could hear her heart beating double, her trembling.
"A Man. A man and nothing more. I'm sure of it now."
---
"I was trying to get to Klaxon." Dewey conceded. "I had a message to deliver to her."
"Ulysses is with her right now. He'd kill you if you went up there."
She smirked.
"Then I guess I'm glad you're here."
She stepped close, as if to embrace him, her mouth to his right ear.
"Marvolus is coming for his heart." She whispered. "He's going to move again."
Cora stepped back.
"How do you know that?"
"I hear things. But my bones can feel it, ya know? Like storms."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Soon." She smiled. "He knows Culver's a dead end now. He'll find another way out."
"Another end? But what do you mean? His heart?"
---
"I know of what's coming though. And if it's of any benefit to me I'm in."
"You are working with him." Matador slurred. Amphi frowned. "You have to be, you have his stink all over you."
"I ought to give you more liquor. To make sense of your words."
"Don't bullshit me." Matador growled, now standing full height. "I know where your roads lead. I know it all. Yours. His. It's all the same."
Amphi paused, his frown turning back to a sincere grin.
"He'll find you, you know. It doesn't matter where you go or hide this time. Once he's on earth, it's not a matter of time so much as it is your going to spend the last few seconds of it. You're pathetic."
Matador drew back and punched Amphi full across the face, sending him to the ground, where he lay, out cold.
"I did that because I knew I wouldn't feel sorry afterword."
Matador wiped his face with his hand, smearing the blood across his face.
"And I didn't. Hell."
---
Here we all are. Beating against the tide. Running and running.
The clock ticks by.
From the stars to the bullfighters, time effects all.
And that time is coming.
a new press that focuses on publishing multicultural
children and YA sf/fantasy novels.
what a wonderful focus.
fantasy is and will always be my first
love genre. you can tell if you read my
debut. but i can honestly say, growing up,
i can't recall ever reading about an
asian character in any of my favorite books,
much less see them featured on the cover.
baby steps forward, there is more out there.
but simply not enough.
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/158
consider donating just $5 if you can.
stacy told me she will get none of the
congributions at all if the 10k goal is not met. =(
of course, i'm hoping i can still donate some other
way, but wouldn't it be lovely and amazing if she
met her goal?
thank you!! xo
back to addressing holiday cards. =D
- Mood:
hopeful
hardback copies! buy three and get free shipping? =D
ha!
http://www.amazon.com/Silver-Phoenix-Be
feel free to email me for signed
bookplates as well. preferably before
i leave for london next wednesday. =D
if you want to gift for the holidays...
pon.cindy@gmail.com
happy holidays, LJ friends!!
- Mood: cheerful
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cowpops : soles tice [+0] - girlnamedstella : T h e o n c e a n d f u t u r e k i n g [+0]
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