progress
An update ... not quite 130 pages currently. I guess, that's pretty good. Must of course be more. But that happens gradually. 'm Only halfway through the story, which is planned.
are a part of the outline of the second and even thought the third part of it already. It looks like the characters have already reached a certain life of its own. I think good.
----------------------------- ------------------ -----------
A little update on my work on the book. There are now not quite 130 pages filled with text. Not bad, even if I say so myself. Not quite enough, Naturally, that there will be more pages every day. Those pages are written roughly half of what I planned storywise. So there's more to come;)
Some parts of the storyline for book two and some thoughts on book three have been penned down already. Seems that my characters are beginning to live on their own, kind of. Fascinating ... and I think it is great.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
How Do Penis's Fit In Undies
BW
Petersburg for two days snow, and I am glad to.
probably takes its age, or just finally I learned to normal everyday common sense - the first major properly prepared for the winter, I have even, in exchange confused: his cap, wool gloves, and even four different spike tires (up to this, two I skated on the season of summer, from some inner bravado and conviction that we should not spoil the spikes asphalt).
from view from the window as much sucks in the stomach - the stone gray railings on the balcony are covered with white fuzz, on the contrary - a white veil over her - a gray building on top - a colorless sky, down below, if you pop out of the window - white-black pavement. No flowers, no chance, nothing distracts the eye, all that is available visually impaired, there is a reason that there must exist from eternity.
Yesterday marked birthday colleagues in the trendy, expensive and tasteless (such reason in St. Petersburg than in Moscow), institution where trendy chef of routine custom maps on the rubber taste the excellent food, and talked a lot about the south, warm.
To each his own - with all the love in the south, sea, sun - chomping on our buses slush for me sounds somehow b
of
lshey music than the sound of the surf. This here is damp - if you're healthy, not sick with tuberculosis, not tormented with rheumatism - Irritates my sense of smell more than the flowering of the most heavenly almonds.
Petersburg for two days snow, and I am glad to.
probably takes its age, or just finally I learned to normal everyday common sense - the first major properly prepared for the winter, I have even, in exchange confused: his cap, wool gloves, and even four different spike tires (up to this, two I skated on the season of summer, from some inner bravado and conviction that we should not spoil the spikes asphalt).
from view from the window as much sucks in the stomach - the stone gray railings on the balcony are covered with white fuzz, on the contrary - a white veil over her - a gray building on top - a colorless sky, down below, if you pop out of the window - white-black pavement. No flowers, no chance, nothing distracts the eye, all that is available visually impaired, there is a reason that there must exist from eternity.
Yesterday marked birthday colleagues in the trendy, expensive and tasteless (such reason in St. Petersburg than in Moscow), institution where trendy chef of routine custom maps on the rubber taste the excellent food, and talked a lot about the south, warm.
To each his own - with all the love in the south, sea, sun - chomping on our buses slush for me sounds somehow b
of
lshey music than the sound of the surf. This here is damp - if you're healthy, not sick with tuberculosis, not tormented with rheumatism - Irritates my sense of smell more than the flowering of the most heavenly almonds.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Birthday Prayer For Debut
A beginning ...
OK, now I have something too. Let's see if I can handle it. If not - I suspect - I beg your pardon here before.
What's going on in the head when you read when you write?
Since I have now started in my presumption, itself to be active as a writer, but makes you look now and then a few thoughts. Nothing Earth-shattering, I promise, that would be somewhat risky. But how one is affected by what you read yourself? Since I usually read English books, but I realize in part, as do the relevant terms creep into my own creations. What would be acceptable, I would write in English, which I do not. And so I sit at my keyboard now and then, have a wonderful, poignant expression in the head ... relaxed as possible and then try to translate into my native language. What - I fear - not always succeed. So I lose said formulation as well as a wonderful little confidence in my skills, my writing in my Mother tongue to express.
But how does this happen? Sure, I fluently speak English and my skill goes so far in these moments that I think also English, which I do not fall into the trap of many native speakers of groping, trying frantically, the familiar sentence structure in the other language to push. But why the language mix in my native language? What I want to say my aging box thinking that?
Maybe I should consider this aspect in more detail. But now I call my script again. I should make a better episode, my characters before I sue for neglect. Would an ugly development, I think.
Edit:
As my lovely wife complained about this being in plain german, I will try my hand in keeping this bilingual ;)
OK, now I also have this thing. Let's see if I can handle this. If not - as I think I won't - please accept my sincere apology up front.
So, what is going on in one's head if one is reading or writing?
Since I now in my presumptuousness have stepped on the path of becoming a writer, I keep thinking about things that were never of any concern to me before. Nothing too serious, I promise, that would be just too daring. But seriously, just how much are we influenced by what we read? As I am reading english books most of the time, I keep finding snippets of those creeping into my own creations. Sounds not too bad, does it? Trouble is, I am not writing in english, so afore-mentioned snippets are not in the right language for me to use. And so I keep sitting in front of my keyboard, having wonderful, pointed phrasings in my head... which I then try to translate as good as possible into german. Needless to say, that is not always possible. So I loose said wonderful phrasing... and a tiny bit of trust in my ability to write in my native language.
So, how is this possible? My english is fluent (if a wee bit rusty at the moment) and I also think in english while using that language. So I won't get trapped like many foreign speakers, who are in vain trying to press those poor, innocent sentences into the structures of another languages. Oh, the horror! But why keeps my brain mixing another language into my native language? What is my good old think-box trying to say to me?
Maybe I should keep thinking about this a little bit more. But right now, my script is calling for me. I should better follow this call, else those figments of my imagination will sue me for negligence. And what THAT do to my thought processes, I shudder to think about ;)
(If my rambling should prove to be illegible, please forgive me, as I said, my english is a tad rusty at the moment)
OK, now I have something too. Let's see if I can handle it. If not - I suspect - I beg your pardon here before.
What's going on in the head when you read when you write?
Since I have now started in my presumption, itself to be active as a writer, but makes you look now and then a few thoughts. Nothing Earth-shattering, I promise, that would be somewhat risky. But how one is affected by what you read yourself? Since I usually read English books, but I realize in part, as do the relevant terms creep into my own creations. What would be acceptable, I would write in English, which I do not. And so I sit at my keyboard now and then, have a wonderful, poignant expression in the head ... relaxed as possible and then try to translate into my native language. What - I fear - not always succeed. So I lose said formulation as well as a wonderful little confidence in my skills, my writing in my Mother tongue to express.
But how does this happen? Sure, I fluently speak English and my skill goes so far in these moments that I think also English, which I do not fall into the trap of many native speakers of groping, trying frantically, the familiar sentence structure in the other language to push. But why the language mix in my native language? What I want to say my aging box thinking that?
Maybe I should consider this aspect in more detail. But now I call my script again. I should make a better episode, my characters before I sue for neglect. Would an ugly development, I think.
Edit:
As my lovely wife complained about this being in plain german, I will try my hand in keeping this bilingual ;)
OK, now I also have this thing. Let's see if I can handle this. If not - as I think I won't - please accept my sincere apology up front.
So, what is going on in one's head if one is reading or writing?
Since I now in my presumptuousness have stepped on the path of becoming a writer, I keep thinking about things that were never of any concern to me before. Nothing too serious, I promise, that would be just too daring. But seriously, just how much are we influenced by what we read? As I am reading english books most of the time, I keep finding snippets of those creeping into my own creations. Sounds not too bad, does it? Trouble is, I am not writing in english, so afore-mentioned snippets are not in the right language for me to use. And so I keep sitting in front of my keyboard, having wonderful, pointed phrasings in my head... which I then try to translate as good as possible into german. Needless to say, that is not always possible. So I loose said wonderful phrasing... and a tiny bit of trust in my ability to write in my native language.
So, how is this possible? My english is fluent (if a wee bit rusty at the moment) and I also think in english while using that language. So I won't get trapped like many foreign speakers, who are in vain trying to press those poor, innocent sentences into the structures of another languages. Oh, the horror! But why keeps my brain mixing another language into my native language? What is my good old think-box trying to say to me?
Maybe I should keep thinking about this a little bit more. But right now, my script is calling for me. I should better follow this call, else those figments of my imagination will sue me for negligence. And what THAT do to my thought processes, I shudder to think about ;)
(If my rambling should prove to be illegible, please forgive me, as I said, my english is a tad rusty at the moment)
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Where Does Rash Ocure
Snapshot Nights in B.
Raining cold rain drops, translucids large pearl drops, that hang over the bare branches of the autumn trees. Wlaking through the dark night, around little houses with here and there the warm and comforting yellowish lights, like a Advent calender, each of one revealing a little surprise, a landscape of its own...
And under a little pergola of yellow leaves barely holding warmly lit, a charming little place. Inside everything is yellow and orange, a huge pumpkin and other mash is giving a warm glow on the counter.. Just beautiful and such a charm.
Walking back under even a harder rain, a street lamp behind a tree, each branch adorned with large shinning rains drops formning a set of concentric circles around the blinding glow of the lamp. Pure beauty of shapes and patterns.
Decidely B. a charming unexpected place.
Raining cold rain drops, translucids large pearl drops, that hang over the bare branches of the autumn trees. Wlaking through the dark night, around little houses with here and there the warm and comforting yellowish lights, like a Advent calender, each of one revealing a little surprise, a landscape of its own...
And under a little pergola of yellow leaves barely holding warmly lit, a charming little place. Inside everything is yellow and orange, a huge pumpkin and other mash is giving a warm glow on the counter.. Just beautiful and such a charm.
Walking back under even a harder rain, a street lamp behind a tree, each branch adorned with large shinning rains drops formning a set of concentric circles around the blinding glow of the lamp. Pure beauty of shapes and patterns.
Decidely B. a charming unexpected place.
Reverse Amortization Schedule
Varia
Some people love to be different. When too many people agree with then, they feel uncomfortable. Some have even been known to abandon deeply cherished opinions after years of dedication, just because those ideas are now becoming widely held and thus, they are no longer in a misunderstood minority.
oh la la lalalala..
Curiously aging.. when I go to be at around 3 pm I sleep but only on the surface... and it is like swimming in a pool just under the surface, or walking behind a translucent facade..
Progessing on understanding what risk capital is all about?
Some people love to be different. When too many people agree with then, they feel uncomfortable. Some have even been known to abandon deeply cherished opinions after years of dedication, just because those ideas are now becoming widely held and thus, they are no longer in a misunderstood minority.
oh la la lalalala..
Curiously aging.. when I go to be at around 3 pm I sleep but only on the surface... and it is like swimming in a pool just under the surface, or walking behind a translucent facade..
Progessing on understanding what risk capital is all about?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Intel82540em Lanドライバー
[LJ2ME] *
When I started out as a must sleep for several nights in a row, with me starting to happen astounding things - the other day and went on a mission to the region without taking some money, not only forgetting to refuel ... When this puzzle allows for 140 miles from home - once you start to feel the sharp taste of life ... Then at night I dreamed of some fantastic sized rooms in the Mikhailovsky Castle, I found myself in a huge hall with cupboards, in which hung Skripochka-half, led the academic conversation with a pretty AB and could not solve for themselves the question - why in the hall bathroom mirror and bathroom. Today puzzled applying for insurance and found out already in the office, that by some miracle, my card is broken, it means to have, but on the occasion of National Day unity they somehow do not want to leave ...
When I started out as a must sleep for several nights in a row, with me starting to happen astounding things - the other day and went on a mission to the region without taking some money, not only forgetting to refuel ... When this puzzle allows for 140 miles from home - once you start to feel the sharp taste of life ... Then at night I dreamed of some fantastic sized rooms in the Mikhailovsky Castle, I found myself in a huge hall with cupboards, in which hung Skripochka-half, led the academic conversation with a pretty AB and could not solve for themselves the question - why in the hall bathroom mirror and bathroom. Today puzzled applying for insurance and found out already in the office, that by some miracle, my card is broken, it means to have, but on the occasion of National Day unity they somehow do not want to leave ...
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