Tag: photos

The Rain, Rain Making Me Cry

There are seven votes, so far, on the poll about the renaming of book 3 (currently The Secrets Were Spilling At The Seams). Anybody is allowed to vote, but the poll will finish in seven days time. If you want to get your thoughts in then you have until the end of Sunday to do so. There will be links to this journal on facebook (if you’re a fan of my official page or SaSA) and twitter (they’re posted automatically through a feed), which means you really have no excuse for missing it. The poll is on the right and you are allowed to vote for more than one if you like more than one title.

If you want to become a fan of my facebook page, then please click the image on the left (one of my photos that has been beautifully, graphically altered by Andrew) and it should redirect you if I’ve done everything right. I have a myspace as well, but it’s linked to my twitter so pretty much every update you get on there is the same as my twitter. It’s easier to receive comments there, though, so please feel free to click the link. Twitter doesn’t seem to be loading properly today, anyway. I’m not quite sure why that is but it’s not updating everybody’s tweets as it should. Maybe on the seventh day twitter also decided it was a day of rest. Who knows?
Formspring won’t let me ask my friend any more questions, either. My formspring is here, in case you really are so bored that you want to ask me innumerable questions. I’ve spent about an hour asking my friend (NALGames AKA Andrew McCluskey) desert island style questions. It’s been quite fun, especially as I think you learn more about the way your friends think with those kinds of questions. You can also turn it into more of a story/adventure scenario too. Sadly, it is also another way for me to continue to procrastinate.
I’m listening to one of my cats snoring at the minute. He’s got his paw over his face as usual when he sleeps and is murmuring sleepy things and wiggling occasionally. One of my other cats (the pillow lover, if you’ve read some of my previous entries about his antics) is lying next to me upside down and purring while he has his tummy rubbed, which is an unusual past time for him. He doesn’t really like his tummy touched unless it’s on his terms.
I was going to clear out some clothes that I don’t wear, but I’ve run out of steam for physical activities. There are days when I really want to get on and do stuff like that and others where I simply feel like I lack enough energy to even raise my arm too far. I might have a burst of energy later on, but I sincerely doubt it. It would be rather nice if my dream did come true. It was quite a bizarre dream, but then mine always are bizarre. Last night I dreamt I had a fridge and a lovely big sofa in my room. I’d really like both, but I simply haven’t the space. Of course, the room in my dream was much bigger than this. If my room was bigger then maybe I’d be able to keep things a bit tidier. I just don’t have the space to put stuff and my dad simply won’t help me build onto my desk to make it more suitable to my needs. He’s a lazy, grumpy old man.
I suppose I could attempt it myself, though I imagine that my DIY skills will not fair too well… and I need some pieces of wood.

(Lyrics in title are from How My Heart Behaves by Feist)

Rip This Red Dress

I went out for my birthday drink last night. My aim was to consume my age in drinks (twenty). I didn’t manage it. I made it to nine, so I guess I covered my mental age. It was actually eight, but I had a large cocktail that tasted like strawberry milkshake so my friends pointed out that that would be regarded as two drinks considering the amount of alcohol that went into it. Sadly, I don’t think sipping their drinks counted towards my attempt.

I’ve included one of my photos so that you can see the cool people who went out with me. The girl at the top is Tiff, then there’s Sarah and the girl whose smile you can see is Nat W. It will probably protect her identity that you can’t see her whole face considering our private joke that her most likely career choice would have been an assassin. I’m the girl in the red dress.
It was a really good night. We had a nice long catch up as well as being able to dance a bit and let our hair down, which I haven’t done in quite a while. I’ve been so tired and stressed lately that finding time to wind down and relax properly just hasn’t been easy to fit into my agenda. It was good to see friends, though. I haven’t seen any of them since New Years Eve, which is kind of sad because I always enjoy going out with these three in particular. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy going out with others, but I always have fun when I’m with these particular people. The only downside is that I know there are going to be some dreadful photos of me posted on facebook. To be honest, I don’t mind that they’re dreadful because I like being able to have the memories. I really don’t understand it when people untag themselves from photos of them when they were younger. They might be embarrassing but it’s always nice to be able to look back at things that have happened in the past and to swim in that lovely warm feeling of nostalgia.
The only thing that’s wrong with going out where I live is that everything closes at 3am. It’s a small town so it’s understandable, I suppose. There’s only one nightclub and tonnes of food places, but the nightclub closes at 3am. So when you leave you go to get food but all of the food places have shut their doors. I reckon they should try to stay open half an hour later than that because they’d make such huge profits. Of course, it meant that we all had a sandwich when we got in at.. about 4? It takes a while to walk from town to my house and I don’t really trust taxi drivers. Luckily, we weren’t feeling the cold too much because we’d had enough to drink by then and we were keeping moving.
I also wanted to mention that I’ve added a poll at the side so you can tell me what you think of the book name dilemma that I mentioned previously. I’ve also opened up commenting to anyone who wants to comment. You shouldn’t have to log in with a google ID or whatever else it asks for. I hope that helps everybody.
I think I’m going to get some editing under way, actually. That’s if I can, anyway. My eyes are a bit sore, which is most likely because I didn’t sleep too well when I got in. I was having a few agitating dreams that I weirdly can’t remember. All I know is that they were making me anxious for some reason.

I Guess It’s Just A Silly Song About You & How I Lost You & Your Brown Eyes

Decided that I’m going to go out on Friday for a drink, because, other than needing one (I’m not an alcoholic but I seriously need to let my hair down after the pile of stress that’s fallen on my head lately), it’s going to be a late birthday drink. I plan on taking my new camera (who is called Jeremy after a character in a book that I’ve read) so I can snap some lovely photos of the pandemonium that will undoubtedly ensue. Besides, I rarely see people. I’m working on the recluse thing… but I guess I kind of like a bit of human contact once in a while.

‘I guess it’s just a silly song about how I loved you and how I lost you and your brown eyes…
Your brown eyes…’

This song makes me think of somebody but we’ll forego the usual tag as if he ever reads this it may make him feel self-important and that’s not what we want, is it? I was talking to a friend earlier and she mentioned a particular date. It took a moment for me to register quite why it had made me stop. Then I realised that it was because, last year, it was the date of the first foam party I went to. It was also the day before he dumped me. It’s branded on my brain, I guess. To be honest, though, I hadn’t really thought about it until my friend mentioned it. When she did it felt like getting hit over the head with something. I was suddenly peculiarly dizzy. It was probably just a moment of silliness.
I completed editing Chapter 7 of Dark Side of the Moon. It’s improved immensely. If I had some proper free time, then I would get on and start Chapter 8. I want to get it all edited and straightened out so that I can send it off to a literary agent. It’s urban fantasy, so I’ll need to research some urban fantasy agents first, but it would help to have the manuscript finished off to a higher standard before I even contemplate that again. I mean, I tried before but I had no idea what I was doing. If it hadn’t been for the introduction of twitter, I think I would have just blundered on regardless, so I think I owe Andrew McCluskey (NAL) a thank you, there, as he was the one who tried to get me to join and eventually succeeded… and now I have more followers than him in a shorter space of time – not that anyone is counting!
Anyway, yeah…
If I hadn’t joined twitter I wouldn’t have seen what the literary agents around the world were saying about the queries and submissions that they received. It’s opened my eyes a lot more to the world of seeking publication. There are so many helpful authors on there, too. In fact, what I would suggest to anyone seeking to submit like I am is the following:
  • Join twitter
  • Add authors & literary agents on there (you can usually find them by sifting through the lists of other authors & publishing houses or shops like Waterstones & WH Smith)
  • Get involved in some of the hash tag conversations such as #litchat and read hash tags such as #queryquotes – they will give you a better understanding.
  • Buy The Writers’ & Artists’ Yearbook and Writers’ Market
  • Then buy Wannabe A Writer – all three of these books are really informative from the technique of writing to contacting agents/publishers and their contact details to do so.

If you’re reading this and you’re trying to get an agent or a publisher then good luck and I hope that helped. It’s helped me so far – but I’m not signed yet… so I may still be wrong.

If you have any tips you’re willing to share with me then please feel free to comment!

Where: On my bed

Listening to: Brown Eyes – Lady GaGa

Tabs open: SD chatroom, Facebook

Programs open: Msn, Chrome, WMP, MSWord

(Lyrics in the title are from Brown Eyes by Lady GaGa)

Ethereal Entity #19

Where: Downstairs on sofa

Listening to: TV – The ONE Show about discalculia

Tabs open: Facebook, SD chatroom, Twitter, BBC – ONE Show, Dyscalculia Symptoms

Programs open: Msn, Chrome

Okay so I’ve moved upstairs since I was going to start this. It’s quieter up here… and I wanted to play around with my new camera. Mum doesn’t know I have a new camera yet… She may or may not be told. I may hide it from her for a while. She’ll yell at me. I am fully aware that I shouldn’t throw money away… but it is so tempting… and my other camera broke and is not fixable. At two years old, it’s not been a bad camera. In fact, it’s been a bloody good camera, which is why I bought another Samsung. Admittedly I thought I’d broken it about a minute after I played with it and it blacked out, refused to come back on and had the lens stuck out… Turns out that it obviously hadn’t charged enough whilst I was out. I actually nearly had a heart attack. I mean it. It cost me enough money and to think it had broken I was inwardly distraught… like a cowboy not shedding a tear for fear of being weak. Okay. So I’m over exaggerating. Did you really expect any less? On a more serious note, it’s actually a really awesome camera. It’s the Samsung ST550 one in red and black with the two lcd screens and touch screen capabilities. I already love it. I’ll have to name it. I named my laptop so it would only be fair. It can be called Jeremy… probably mainly because I’ve been reading Kelley Armstrong’s ‘Stolen‘ lately and there’s a character called Jeremy in it. Plus, it kind of looks like a Jeremy.

On another note, I was awake until 6am this morning completing a ridiculous essay. Well, to be honest, the essay isn’t actually ridiculous but the fact that our module lecturer didn’t seem to know what she was doing and the essay titles didn’t really correspond to what we’d been taught made it ridiculous. The essay question I decided on was the one about an author and the influence of the time in which they grew up on their writing and how their work impacted on children’s literature. I chose Beatrix Potter. The title I devised was ‘A detailed consideration of Beatrix Potter’s works and their ensuing legacy within children’ s literature.’ I don’t think it was very good but right now I don’t care. It was the best I could do without very much guidance. Not that I’m blaming the lecturer on my own because everyone else taking that module was under the impression that she wasn’t very good either, which is kind of sad because I felt sorry for her. Nobody in the room really respected her opinion and quite frankly she gave us little reason to. Shame because she seemed quite nice as a person.

And Andrew McCluskey (NAL Games) will be happy that I’ve written this entry. I’ve left it two days and apparently he needs his fix. I don’t see why. My life is hardly that interesting. I just like to have a place to moan. Moaning is always fun. That might be because I’m unequivocally English, though. And everybody knows the English like to have a good long moan. Is it immature that I amuse myself with that double entendre? You’re probably nodding your head and saying, “Yes Rebecca. It’s very immature.” I’m hoping you’re also saying, “But we still love your crazy little self.” And, just a note, I’m not little. I’m 5’5… That makes me pretty average… Yeah, having three brothers hasn’t made me self-conscious about my height at all. Still, I’m taller than my mum so it’s alright.

I think I’m going to take my special eyes out and go feed my cats, actually. By special eyes, I don’t mean I have fake eyeballs I put in to convince the world I can see when really a shark tore them out when I was three and on my daddy’s boat. My dad doesn’t even have a boat… and I don’t think I’ve ever called him ‘daddy’. My special eyes are my contact lenses and after a long day, they’re beginning to annoy me. They’re not as difficult as I thought they were going to be. They actually feel like you have an eyelash in your eye for a few minutes when you first put them in, but then they settle down and you forget that they’re there… which can be a bad thing. You don’t want to fall asleep in them, for instance. My brother did last night. He was telling me that they restrict oxygen to your eye and you could go blind. He was panicking at the time as he usually does. He’s quite a fierce hypochondriac. I believe that that could happen but I’d guess that was if you left them in longer than he did. Oh well.

Anyway, Smokey (that’s the cushion/teddy-obsessed cat) wants his dinner. So I’ll tie this off and write again soon. Goodnight world!