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Long Time, No Post

 So, did y'all hear the news? On July 12, 2011, A Dance with Dragons, the fifth book of George R.R. Martin's A Song Of Ice and Fire, is being published. I can't even say how excited I am; I've been waiting for this since 2004, when A Feast for Crows was released. My first thought upon hearing this news was "It's about damn time, George-how can you wait so long between writing installments?"

So, imagine my chagrin when I came back to my own LJ, only to discover I hadn't updated in over two years. I comment all the time in various comms, but I never write in my own journal. Hypocrisy, thy name is me. Granted, he's writing a thousand-page fantasy novel for a seven-book saga with millions of loyal fans, while I'm updating a LiveJournal with 14 comments on two entries, but still, negligent writers are negligent! So much has happened since I made my last post, it's kind of hard to believe I'm the same person. I've traveled to New Orleans and Washington D.C. with my Knowledge Bowl team, placing in the top 20 teams in the nation both times. I've graduated high school and completed my first semester of college, and I'm halfway through the second. (Seven weeks to go as I type this, in the middle of Spring Break.) My Gothy tendencies, always kept latent by the crappy town in which I lived, blossomed fully upon my attendance at college, where I am known in all my classes as "the loud girl with the funny clothes." I have discovered the joy of school again, something I lost round about the fifth grade and never regained until now. I can ride the Denver Light Rail and bus system, and work my way around downtown without getting totally lost. (If you knew how directionally challenged I am, you would know what an accomplishment that is.) I've grown apart from some old friends, and made some incredible new ones. I've gone to my first concert (Emilie Autumn), taken my first drink, and gone into my first sex shop. (Does it still count if I went in pursuit of corsets, and blushed a lot?) 

The biggest difference in me is internal, although my best friend does insist that my boobs have grown since she met me in September. (Don't I wish.) I love life in a way that I haven't since about fifth grade. (Anyone else sensing a pattern?) I am possibly the happiest, perkiest Goth known to mankind, (outside of my role model, Abby of NCIS), bouncing around in my corsets and ruffled black skirts like I haven't a care in the world; which really, I don't. I've been blessed with a loving family, a great scholarship, and the most amazing friends anyone could ask for. I've finally found a place where I can feel comfortable in my own skin. If any maladjusted, odd, weird, or freaky high-schoolers, picked on constantly for not conforming to the norm, happen to read this-it does get better. I promise. I know how old it gets with everyone telling you how great things will be, when you want them to be great NOW, but hang on. If you need a friend, PM me and we'll talk. John Hughes movies and all the adults around you lied to you; high school is far from the best years of your life. And, you know what? Feel sorry for those for whom that is actually true; they'll spend their lives pining for their pathetic glory days forty years ago, while you'll spend yours enjoying each and every moment and flourishing in the real world. Good luck, kiddies-may you all be as lucky as I have been. I love you.

P.S. I am going to try to post semi-regularly from now on. No promises, but a sincere effort will be made!

Having A Sporking Good Time


The two communities that drew me into LiveJournal were Deleterius and Pottersues. These communities are a lot of fun. They basically exist to criticize Mary Sues and bad fanfiction in general; a purpose which I know some would consider to be not-so-nice. And yet, somehow, I can't bring myself to care. Simply put, there are few things as pleasurable in life as seeing bad things deconstructed with the wit and grace that they themselves are so lacking. I bring this up because there seems to be a large faction of people who wish to Stop the Meanness (TM) and thus send, whiny, bitchy e-mails to site moderators, and I wanted to refute their arguments, crush their puny logical fallacies, and make them cry. Mwahahaha.
* First off: if u don't like it than u dnot have to reed it so sut up you gerk. The street goes both ways, buddy: If you don't like our sparking, you don't have to read them either, savvy? Just as you have every right to post your badly-spelled, OOC Snape/Lupin (eeeew!) slash on Da Internets, we have every right to make fun of said slash. It's called the First Amendment, and though it doesn't include Sporking as a right by name, it is sort of implied in the whole freedom of speech thing.
*Secondly: u have no talent abd yur just jelous. Considering how much funnier, more intelligent, and better-spelled-and-grammar-checked the sporkings/and or commentaries are, there is no "jelousy" involved. Pity, certainly. Wickedness, of course. That little green monster, however, is the last thing that comes to mind. I know that when I am reading a profile on Pottersues or sporking a fic for Deleterius, the last thing that comes to my mind is: Wow, this person sure is talented! I wish my spelling and grammar were this bad! I wish my stories were as incoherent! I wish my original character was flat and boring, her main distinguishing features being her ridiculously convoluted backstory and connections to canon, her mood-ring eyes, her long shiny {insert improbable color HERE} hair, and her eighteen fluffy Regency Romance Novel/Adverb Names! I'm sooo jealous, I think I will say bad things about this author so she will stop writing and I won't have to compete with her fabulousness." Riiiiigght. That's totally what I always think, because I'm sooo incredibly "jelous" of their Mad Writing Skilllzz.
*Thirdly: why r u so mean these people yur crushing there dreeeams. Waaaaaahhhh! Being mean is fun! Snark, sarcasm, and dry, biting wit have been entertaining the human race since the dawn of time. If you don't like that, then go back to playing with your Care Bears in Happy Magical Fun Land, where the flowery unicorns with cotton-candy manes and the sparkly vampires live.

Bottom line for the fanfic folks: When you put your work out there, you are opening yourself up for criticism. When you get it, you have no right to complain. If you want to keep thinking your fic is preshus and speshul and the most magikalest piece of writing EVAH!111!, than keep it on your hard drive and only show it to your friends. If you don't want people to say bad things about it, don't post it in the Pit Of Voles (better known as Fanfic.net.)  If you want to be a writer, then you have to learn how to take criticism. If you really want to be a writer, you also have to know how to use Spell-check.
No, not everyone saying bad things about your fic is a "hater," and there is certainly no giant conspiracy to suppress your talent and prevent you from actualizing your fullest potential as a writer. And no, you aren't such a great writer that us plebians with our little minds could never hope to understand your work. Every time you say something like that, you invoke what I like to call the Uwe Boll Corollary, which is as follows: The quality of a work is usually in direct inverse proportion to the amount of time the artist spends protesting that He Is A True Artist and No One Can Understand His Work. Well, it is true that we don't understand it, but it's not like "This work is so great and deeply philosophical and explored such Great Mysteries of The Universe that my tiny brain cannot comprehend it!" It's more like "Why does this exist? Who gave this person a keyboard and access to the Internet? Have they even read the books/seen the movies/ leafed through the comic? If so, why are the characters not acting like themselves? AND WHERE, OH WHERE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, IS THEIR SPELLCHECK?"
If you were really such a good writer, you would have confidence enough in your abilities to say, "Yeah, someone sporked my story/said my character was a Mary Sue It was funny/lame that they did that. Now I'm gonna go write another one, the same way, because I liked it the way it was, and they can do with my work what they please." The one that makes me laugh is someone who says "I'm just writing this for fun and for my freinds so plzz dont take it to serisly" and then gets all up in arms if someone sporks/and or Sues their fic. If you're just writing it for fun, than you shouldn't get so terribly emotionally invested in it and get hysterical if someone criticizes it. By saying something is "just for fun" you're telling us not to take it too seriously; why are you? Lighten up; if you get all offended every time someone says something bad about you, you will never survive in this world. It's a harsh place, and you've got to learn to take it on the chin like a taking-it-on-the-chin type person.* Professional writers, directors, and singers have to deal with harsh criticism all the time; why should you, someone dabbling with someone else's world, not even using your own, be exempt? Cry me a river, build yourself a bridge, and get over it.
*All credit for this statement goes to the outrageously funny Louise Rennison, author of the outrageously funny Georgia Nicolson books.
But then, of course, I have used Earth logic in making this argument, and their logic does not resemble our Earth logic. At all. In any way, shape or form. Using my vast psychic powers, I can predict the following response: The people who think like I do will nod like nodding dogs and say "That's how I felt. Way to put it!" The people who write the whiny e-mails to the site mods will call me a bitch (like I didn't know and acknowledge that fact) and remain totally unswayed. But then, that's the way with just about any issue you could name, isn't it?

The Circus Exhibit

So, after about four years of actively resisting getting a webpage, I have finally succumbed and staked out my little corner of the Internet. As a final gesture of defiance against societal norms, I have chosen LiveJournal over that most beloved hangout of my generation, MySpace. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I do worry that this will put me close to losing my status as the World's Most UnHollywood-Perception-like Teenage Girl, which is a title I will fight anybody for, because I'm damn proud of it. Just as there is matter and anti-matter, there is the Teenage Girl and there is me: the UnTeenage Girl. I could be a circus exhibit, right there with the Bearded Lady and Jojo the Dogface Boy. Just imagine;
"That's right, folks, step right this way. Pay Mr. Barnum your two bits and  prepare to be SHOCKED and HORRIFIED as you meet the adolescent person with two X chromosomes who: Hasn't got a MySpace. " *gasps* "Doesn't know how to flirt. " *shrieks of anguish* "Has never sent a text message or chatted on the Internet" *woman in the back faints* "And...brace yourself for this, folks...drumroll please... HATES TO TALK ON THE PHONE! " *wails of "No! How could such a terrible anomaly exist?" echo through the tent. Gentlemen grab hip flasks to bolster themselves against the thought of such a...thing.Parents cover their children's eyes. The same stupid woman in the back faints again.*  Through it all, the girl behind the glass smiles in a beatific yet somehow chilling way, writing sarcastic comments about the audience in a notebook. When she closes it, the more observant members of the group notice the Star Trek, Babylon 5, and Battlestar Galactica logo doodles on the front of the notebook. *On top of everything else, she likes science fiction. They shudder and turn away, murmuring that it's just not natural for a GIRL to like those things.*

So, that little paragraph should give you a ten-second glimpse into the teeming morass that is my mind. This journal will be a reflection of that; it will jump from thing to thing, topic to topic, rant to rave, with little to no rhyme or reason. I'm hoping some people will come back just to see what totally crazy thing I'll write next. I'm a girl of torrid temperment, varied viewpoint, and diverse dabblings. I also really like alliteration. *smiles* So, if you're ever in the mood for vintage dresses, or literary criticism, or idle musings about existence, drop by. You'll be able to hear what me and my snark have to say, and my snark is a wicked-awesome chick. I want to be like her when I grow up.



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