Aug 25, 2010 - 14:17

Continued in http://unsaid-undone.blogspot.com/.

Aug 11, 2010 - 19:11

Today is the day.

Aug 07, 2010 - 11:15

I started reading an article about changing your sleep pattern, learning to wake up in the morning, and I ended up reading about the handling of nuclear waste. I'm trying to figure out how that happened, but I've no idea.

Aug 04, 2010 - 16:35

I started reading Stoker's Dracula, which I have postponed for a long while now. I've always wanted to read it just because, but I was under the impression that it's largely "something vague happens in victorian England and everyone is scared but nothing is actually revealed", but hoooly shit I was wrong. How can a book so old be so full of awesome?

I've had some hilarious moments though, thanks to the old-fashioned language.

" As he did so he started back, and I could hear his ejaculation, 'Mein Gott!' as it was smothered in his throat. "

The ejaculation alone would have brought me into hysterics, but thanks for clarifying where it took place.

" Holding his candle so that he could read the coffin plates, and so holding it that the sperm dropped in white patches which congealed as they touched the metal ... "

Dr Van Helsing, puh-leeeease, there are ladies present.

Dicks aside the novel also has crazy descriptions of people:

" ... a man of medium height, strongly built, with his shoulders set back over a broad, deep chest and a neck well balanced on the trunk as the head is on the neck. The poise of the head strikes one at once as indicative of thought and power; the head is noble, well-sized, broad, and large behind the ears. The face, clean-shaven, shows a hard, square chin, a large, resolute mobile mouth, a good-sized nose, rather straight, but with quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as the big, bushy eyebrows come down and the mouth tightens. The forehead is broad and fine, rising at first almost straight and then sloping back above two bumps or ridges wide apart; such a forehead that the reddish hair cannot possibly tumble over it, but falls naturally back and to the sides. Big, dark blue eyes are set widely apart, and are quick and tender or stern with the man's mood. "

Which character? Can you guess? Why, it's Van Helsing of course, and in the end all I can remember is his "bushy eyebrows". Similarly all I can remember of Dracula's looks is that he has crazy mustache. Speaking of Van Helsing, I'm not sure what to make of him. He's constantly being described in a manner that I think is supposed to make me at least admire him if not swoon, but I think he's melodramatic and borderline crazy. I'm never sure whether he's being serious or if he's just making fun of people. As a curious note, Van Helsing shares first name with the author.

Jul 19, 2010 - 18:40

If we ever learned to clone humans properly and we'd have the resources to build gigantic flesh farms, would there be any reason for us not to eat humans. I'd personally find it exciting to have a piece of me.

Jul 16, 2010 - 23:47

Just found the winners and finalists of Nova 2010 online, which was surprisingly fast since the winners were only announced earlier tonight. Seems like my short story did get into the finals again this year. I feel curiously embarrassed, horrified, proud, exhilarated and then embarrassed again. I'm happy for getting that far, but at the same time I'm also wondering if I would have placed better if I had spent more time on the story. Possibly. But how much better? I'm sure the writing was rushed, but that is something that can be fixed with a bit more time and effort. But was it a winning story? Did it have potential? Do any of my ideas? That is what I'm really worried about. With contests you're also always left wondering if you placed so high because everyone else's stories were abysmal, or if you placed so low only because the competition was so fierce.

Out of 128 short stories, my 4-hour miracle was in top-25.

Jul 14, 2010 - 23:49

I've been distracted. I've been thinking a lot about the last story I finished and sent out, the one that got rejected. In restrospect (as usually) it wasn't anything amazing, but it had some stuff for which I want to pat myself on the back. I've been outlining the story again, skewing things a bit, writing a bit more in-depth plans than last time, and I'm leaning towards rewriting it all over again with a whole new plotline once I'm done with the current project. Because, goddamn, necromancers! Of course, there's plenty of time to change my mind, since the current project isn't halfway done yet.

Speaking of dead things, I've also thought up a cunning business plan. Because the Twilight-series is so popular these days whether or not I'd want it to be, I've been planning to shamelessly make money on it. Seeing as zombies are the vampires of tomorrow, I'm going to write a series that focuses on a high-school girl who falls in love with a boy who is actually a zombie. However I feel the idea of rotting, walking, mindless corpses is getting a bit old, so I'm going to stir the things a bit.

My zombies are fairly intelligent and fresh. What makes them different from normal people is their unusually pale skin that faintly sparkles in sunlight. They also need to consume brains to stay alive, but the main character's love interest is a good kind of a zombie, who comes from a family of so called "vegetarian" zombies. They only eat the brains of brain dead people. How convenient that one of their family actually works in the local hospital's coma ward! There's one problem though. The love interest zombie can smell the main character's brain and it smells unusually delicious. Whenever they are together, he can't stop thinking about the taste of her brain, and with every passing moment he gets more tempted to have a taste! I think I'll also add a rival love interest, who is a mummy, and that won't end well, because zombies and mummies are at war! What do you think?

Jul 12, 2010 - 16:39

It's disgustingly hot in here, but that's all fine as long as I can stay inside or at least in a shade. I feel lazy and I'd rather just lie on the couch reading books or doing nothing at all. But I start feeling uneasy if I'm not doing something that I can imagine being useful in some way.

I've been working on a short story that I started earlier this year. It's for a contest and the deadline is the 1st of September, so for once I'm early. I outlined it properly and started writing. Now I'll also have decent time left for editing before sending it out. I've never written much short stories, but now I've started to think I could write more. They're nice change from the usual projects and good practice on both planning and writing.

And on the same topic, the 10 finalists of Nova writing contest have been invited to the award ceremony held this weekend. I didn't get an invitation so it's safe to assume my short story didn't get quite that far. How far it did get I won't know until after they announce the winners. I wasn't expecing much from it since the story was pretty much scraped together in a few hours, although I'm pretty proud about the idea it had. It was still miles better than the previous short story I participated with which got into the finals, but didn't make it to the top-10. It wasn't very good story either. So I'm still looking forward to this year's results!

Jul 11, 2010 - 20:07

I just loaded my inkjet with a new black cartridge a week ago or so, only to discover that the color cartridges had run out. The piece of junk doesn't print anything at all even if one single cartridge is empty. I figured I might as well buy that much-wanted laser printer since you can get a decent one with the same price as new set of color cartridges. Off to the closet with the old printer. Only.. all the stores that sell printers are somewhat far from here and while I could well walk over there, it wouldn't be that fun to walk back with a printer box especially in these sunny days.

Friend was very kind to give me a ride yesterday, so I bought a nice little Samsung monochrome laser printer, and oh my god, why did I ever put up with the inkjet. In the university I've only met laser printers that are loud and slow. I figured I could put up with that because the print quality is always top-notch and in the long run it would be cheaper than my old printer. So I was expecting the worst. I got this tiny little black box that spits out perfect prints in no time at all without making even as much noise as my old printer did. If I wasn't concerned for saving the toner, I'd be printing stuff all day long just for the sheer fun of it. I can't stop admiring how fast it prints and how crisp everything looks!

Jul 02, 2010 - 23:57

Finnish publishing house Teos has started a writing competition looking for extraordinary fantasy and science fiction novels. 5000 euros and a publishing contract for the winning manuscript, and other manuscripts deemed worthy also receive a publishing contract. Oh god, I'm so excited I want to throw up. I'm already thinking if my current story is good enough to qualify and if I can possibly add some mindfuck to make it stand out ("no, don't, stop messing with it already"). And I'm calculating how fast exactly I could write another novel using some idea from my scrap pile.

Deadline 31.3.2011. GO GO GO! (Fuck you, thesis.)

Jul 02, 2010 - 22:46

I decided to cut the story in half. Previously I was telling two intertwining stories from opposite point of views. It was getting overly long and even with that the stories weren't getting equal amounts of attention, so I decided that I'll write them separately. They weren't that essential to each other anyway, so writing them both would have been just a useless gimmick.

I've been wasting a lot of time being anxious about things and in the spare time I've been fixing the plotline to suit the one stand-alone story I decided to write first, which is the one I had already started with the old plans. The other story had some elements that were essential for the progression of the other one, so I've needed to come up with new solutions to some problems. It turned out to be more difficult than I expected, but I think I've done well so far and can move on to actually writing things.

I tried to proofread this post but I'm very tired atm. Later, maybe. Also, I need to get that laser printer sometime soon, my inkjet just decided it can't print anything with empty color cartridges. With good deal it might be even cheaper to buy a laser printer than to replace all the color cartridges in the old one.

Jun 10, 2010 - 22:54

It's the time of the month when I have that strange desire to watch men fighting and shooting and slashing people. Bonus points for slow-motion deaths and gore. Plot is optional.

39k something words in the novel now. I slacked for about a week. That last chapter is 11k words long of horrible mess that depresses me. Most of it I'll need to delete, and the rest needs to be rewritten completely, but at least I got some idea of what I want to do with the chapter. Almost done writing the next chapter now and I'm already dreading the first editing round. I've taken so many shortcuts while writing now, that I can only hope I'll even remember what I was supposed to do when I get there. I have pages and pages full of notes though, for extra fun.

May 30, 2010 - 23:45

The people who were my friends long time ago have grown up, started families. Some of them have had rough time, but they seem to be doing well now. I feel like I'm the only one mulling endlessly over my past, unable to move forward. Couple of weeks ago I thought about what I used to be like when I came here, and I felt I had grown, but now that I look at the others, I don't know. It doesn't make me feel particularly happy or sad, I can't decide whether it's better to be impulsive adolescent or responsible adult. No good answer for that, I suppose, some people are this, the others that. But I do feel like an outsider, disconnected from the real world. I look at everything as if it had nothing to do with me, and with some things it's true. It's like being in a zoo, or looking into an aquarium, following a play. I'm just a spectator, not an actor. Other people might as well feel the same way, but I will never know. We're all alone in these heads.

May 27, 2010 - 11:04

I smelled milk tea, like what I used to drink when I was a kid, and I thought that's what his words taste like. It wasn't unpleasant, but somewhat perverse. How dare he overpower me with childhood memories and such simple truths.

May 26, 2010 - 11:47

I can't believe I just spent three hours fixing the story's plotline to fit my last night's notes, and in the end the only thing to change is "that guy has no redeeming qualities whatsoever". Why do I even bother stressing over this anymore, clearly I have perfected the plotline.

May 25, 2010 - 16:18

Struggling hopelessly with the current chapter in which our noble main character escorts previously mentioned fine gentleman to a teaparty. They have excellent time without too many traumatizing events and in the end they enjoy a good game a checkers, the memory of which will delight both of them for a long time after. In the meanwhile the other partygoers engage in various variations of combat chess. Many get hurt, but approximately half of all guests leave satisfied and eagerly awaiting for the next evening of games and gossip.

I know pretty much exactly what I need to write and in which order, but the words don't want to come. Everything I write sounds forced and awkward. I think I'm just stressing about it too much, but what to do.

34012 words.

May 19, 2010 - 22:25

At times it's a bit challenging to write about beings that aren't humans, since much of the vocabulary that refers to intelligent beings refers directly to humans - for a reason, of course. In Finnish to behave yourself is "to behave like humans". People is "humans". Humanity and humane are problematic in English as well, and it's extremely hard to find any decent sounding alternative for either. Similarly words referring to gender will sound strange if you are talking about beings that either don't differentiate between genders or have different words for them (bull/cow, buck/doe etc.).

28766 words now. Feeling a bit shitty for the slow progress. I'm obsessing too much about details that no one cares about and waste hours mulling over them. I'd like to say that I was pretty busy with other stuff for a while as well, but in reality I did the necessary stuff as fast as possible and spent the rest of the time slacking around. I've been writing since the start of April, and my personal deadline for the first draft is the end of June. This is also the shittiest first draft of anything I've ever written.

May 18, 2010 - 20:11

I find it hilarious that my parents probably think I'm writing relatively normal stories about normal people doing boring stuff in Finland.

May 16, 2010 - 15:09

I was mulling over something pointless for a few hours, then I figured out how it works. People, that is.

May 11, 2010 - 21:12

I want to be that girl in my seminar, the one with plain face and merciless eyes.

I do not know if she is just a person blessed with divine face or someone who saw too much. I want to believe the latter. She looks relentless. I want to be that person, fortified against all tides, a whole as I am, alone. When she smiles, she isn't cruel. She's a distant goddess, amused of the world and the pitiful things we humans hold so dear. She sees the time flying by, she knows its value. She sees us wasting it, but she doesn't guide us. The children must learn on their own.

I look outside and see the balance of everything. I see gulls and crows sitting on the chimneys in the cold wind. My life is meaningless in this stream of time, days and years that go by. I spend my hours worrying about things that ultimately do not matter. I waste my time away caring too much, not living enough, heading for death, like we all are.

If I learn to run, I will be free. This I know. If I can run, I can escape anything. I can break free of this play we call life. People here never run. They stand still in their worries. We are taught to face our problems, not to escape. But if I could run, I would leave behind everything that disrupts the balance of my life. I would only move forward without looking back, without any need to. I would go somewhere. There would be no need to live through days without motion, without any say. It would be such comfort to know my legs can carry me to infinity - that I can completely rely on myself when all else fails.

May 10, 2010 - 20:14

I tried to do push ups, but I think I dislocated my shoulder.

May 9, 2010 - 18:32

Must stop swooning, must write a report.

May 3, 2010 - 17:36

One moment I'm upset, the next something else comes up. It's an unpleasant thing, but I let it overcome me, it restores the balance within me. There's a hierarchy of emotions, where one tops another one - the rock, paper, scissors of a human mind. Shame erases joy. Hate erases shame. Where to, now?

Apr 29, 2010 - 14:24

For a few weeks now I've been writing a new story that I've been planning for a year or two or three. I got the idea for it about five years ago, and have been planning it more or less actively ever since. I've tried to write it a few times before, but always ditched it early on. The story and setting have changed a lot, but I'm quite happy with what I have now. I'm pretty confident about it.

The raw and extremely rough first draft text file is now 20622 words. For reference, I read somewhere that the average length for a Finnish novel is about 50000 words. 50k words in English, however, is a very short novel or a novella. The rough draft I have now includes all kinds of notes I've written for myself, along with multiple versions of same scenes, which I'll need to sort out later. The last chapter I "finished" is about 8700 words, and it's the third chapter. Third out of twenty three that I've planned. So let's assume I can condense every chapter to 8k words, and I'll be left with a novel that is 184k words which would be long for an English novel and is dreadfully long for a Finnish one.

I get sick pleasure from talking about the statistics of my writings, so bear with me. The last novel manuscript I finished (which in retrospect was all kinds of horrible, although I got some very good feedback for it), was 118k words in its last version (356 pages with 1.5 lines). The last version of the text file is pretty much compilation of all other stuff I wrote before which I then revised and revised and polished and finished. And get this: OpenOffice says I've spent 1156 hours editing the file. It's the one and same file from start to beginning saved many times with different names up until the final draft, so you can see it takes 48 full days to write a novel. Add to that all the time spent planning and hand writing - Jesus Christ on the cross. How can it take thousands of hours? Where did I get all that time? These days I feel like there isn't enough hours in a day to get everything I want done!

On an only slightly related note: I want a laser printer. Also, all this time I spent writing this post (about an hour if you count all other important stuff I did, like tending for my farm in Facebook), I should have been working on chapter 4 in which the main character goes to a cocktail party and ends up playing truth or dare with a very fine and stable gentleman who enjoys fly fishing and studying history. Afterwards they have milk and biscuits and absolutely no one gets hurt.

Apr 24, 2010 - 18:55

I accidentally a short story.