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  • Пт, 18:07: Just backed up my NanoNovel to Dropbox and my external! Day 18 gogogo! #nanowrimo Hitting 30,000 tonight!
  • Сб, 01:09: @SurvivorCochran Chuck Norris's roundhouse kick can move an island. But he'd get voted off of it by John Cochran. :p

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Nanowrimo update!

I had been planning on posting Nanowrimo stuff to this journal but it's Day 18 and I haven't gotten around to it yet.

But! All of my current Nanowrimo posts are here on my Tumblr which I have been using a lot more than LJ lately.

Beware the random fangirling in between Nano posts, though.

Also, I will be reaching a word count of 30,000 today!

Needless to say, my last two attempts at Nano were blown out of the water and my thought about original ideas being easier to write was true!

I didn't give up on day two this time and I haven't missed a day! \o/ Of course, it's going to be a long time before my story sees the light of day, if ever :D

My tweets

  • Чт, 23:07: @SurvivorCochran I thought you'd say "Y'know, all the customers you really like, you call them by their last name - call me Cochran!" :D

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My tweets

  • Mon, 22:14: Ugh. No concentration today. Only about 300 written... I don't want to lose my lead. The night isn't over yet. #nanowrimo

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Oct. 31st, 2011

The article I co-wrote for the SCAs this past summer is available online!

The Commune Era of Olompali: Challenging our Assumptions of the Hippie Lifestyle

(It's an online PDF file, just fyi)

My first paper, I'm very excited and hopefully it will get some responses :D

charloft Thursday | Haunted

In honor of the season, write about an object that is haunted.

The orb sat benignly on the plinth - a place of high honor in the hall. The black glass reflected light though he could not find the source of it.

"Look closer and you will see," the figure said mildly and Nolan leaned in, almost against his will. He knew the rumors and this was surely the object in them.

His eyes were wide as he took in the glare of the glass and he blinked slowly before fully gazing into the orb.

For a moment he thought he saw his own eyes gazing back at him but no, his own were not the bright, clear blue he was seeing. And then, there were more; scared, hopeful eyes, shapes crowding his own vision as though seeking his attention. He clenched his eyes shut but the images remained, stark against the blackness of his vision. Pained, faceless looks, some angry, some sad but all Gifted.

And that was when he knew the rumors were true. This man was stealing Gifts, a heinous crime by all standards, and these images were the only remaining pieces of those who had lost everything.

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