BEDA, Day 17: A pledge, and tales from life.

After reading back through my blog entries, I have realized something.

I have never once stretched, modified, or in any other way changed the truth. Because of this, I have decided that I shall continue in this vein.

This blog will continue to be an honest-to-goodness recollection of my life (and whatever else I decide to put in here).

So you, dear reader (Oh. My. LORD, I need a new name for you all.) can know that everything that you read honestly did happen.

I think that's important to know. It's too easy to lie on the internet, or even to mislead a person. So, now you know that I am, have and will be completely honest with you.

In other news from Whimsyville, I have finished my plot outline! Huzzah, cheers and all that jazz.
Currently, my plot outline checks in at nine pages long, with the backstory outline at seven pages. I am officially un-stuck!

I went to the library today to work on my novelness (it's a real word right now, so there), and instead, ended up talking to a ten year old boy about Harry Potter, King Arthur, Merlin, wizards in general, Nicholas Flamel, the philosopher's stone, name origins, NaNoWriMo, where my (very tiny) town is located, hair dye, and yoga.

Here are a few sample conversations:


Library Chappie: (LC) "Is your hair really black?"
(My hair was dyed pink, but the color is fading, and I'm a sorta-bleached blonde with dark roots.)

Me (laughing a bit): "Nope, I've got brown hair. It was pink, but the color grew out. I'll be going green in about a week or so."

LC: "Let me ask you...why green?"
(He give me this look that can only be described as a look that is related to the "O RLY?" owl look.)

Me: "Well, green is my favorite color. It's kind of a blue-green, more green than blue though."

LC: (Looks at me for a moment, then says) "I like light blue."

The best part about this conversation is the fact that it wasn't weird to ask me if my hair REALLY looks like that. Younger kids are so much easier to deal with. Teenagers can be so blasted complicated.

-----

(Talking about NaNoWriMo, my BLFONT spread out in front of me, taking up the entire table, as per usual)

LC: "Can I see your draft?"

Me: "Oh, man, sorry, you can't. My handwriting is awful (true), and it's NOWHERE near done (also true)."

LC: "I thought girls had pretty handwriting?"

Me: (stifles grin) "Maybe some girls, but not this one."

LC: "Oh."

-----

(Finished chatting about Greek vs Roman mythology, the fact that Nicholas Flamel's body was never found in his grave, what the philosopher's stone was supposed to have done, the fact that Voldemort translates to "flight from death" in french, Fluffy the three headed dog is actually Cerberus, the dog that protects the underworld, what yoga actually is, etc)

LC: "How do you know so much?"

Me: (Feeling bashful and flattered) "I read a lot."

------

This kid has probably never met anyone like me before. I'm 8 years older than he is, but I don't treat him as a kid. Being treaded as a "kid" drove me NUTS when I was younger. It still does now, but it happens less often.

So, that's my day.
How was/is yours?

Signing off for now,
~Whimsy

BEDA Blog nine: BLFONT and writerly badass-ness.

I love libraries. There's just something almost magical about all those books, shelves upon shelves of them.

I can walk between the shelves for hours, just looking at the titles, cover pages...*swoon*

I know, I'm strange.* We knew that already.

Anyhow, so I was at a library today, and I had brought my Big Leather Folder Of NaNoWriMo Things (BLFONT) with me.

The BLFONT** is roughly the size of a very large laptop computer when shut, and twice that size when open. That's not even touching on the stack of (absolutely not) carefully arranged papers INSIDE the BLFONT.

Those papers cover notes about writing projects that are both current and no-quite-so-current. All the papers are thrown together higglety-pigglety***. The plots wind up near fragments of dialogue for tales I have no plans to write, all jumbled in with sketches, rantings, and a good dollop of song lyrics for good measure.

I get to the library and make a beeline for my table. Granted, this table is not mine. I have no claim to it whatsoever. However, given the choice, I will go for this table compleatly out of force of habit. That, and the chair I like is positioned so that I can see the rest of the library without having to turn too much.

I go over to the table, carrying my BLFONT and my messenger bag and claim the table.

My messenger bag (today at least) is filled with five books on writing, and my iPod.

As I unload all my books, my iPod, my BLFONT, I realize two things:

One: I am taking up a table for FOUR on my own.

Two: I look like a writer.

The first realization made me feel guilty, until I realized that nobody else wanted the table.

The second one made me feel like a badass. An epic writerly badass.

So here's my question for you:

Part one: Do you have a writer-ly case, like my BLFONT, and is it organized?

Part two: What do you do that makes you feel like a badass?

~Whimsy

* See any other blog post previous to this one.
** I pronounce this "Bella-font". Sorta like elephant, only not really at all.
*** A phrase to be used WAY more often than it actually is.