Apr 12

My mom and Mr. Van Heusan decided we should all have a meeting to talk about where we were going and what we wished to achieve.

They yammered on and on about how my heart isn't in my work, how they're disappointed because they got me the computer at Christmas for work and I haven't bothered entering anything work related and they're ticked off because I don't come back from lunch sometimes.

I need this?

Maybe my mother is going through the change.

I can hardly wait until my book hits the bestseller list so that I can walk out on them.

I listened and agreed to make more of an effort then after lunch I went home.

Apr 13

I'm in the process of turning the Jade into a period piece.

Jade looked with disgust at her Mother and her mother's amour the Knight as they stood by the hearth drinking mead.

She walked over to the leaded glass window, her sexy yet maidenly sway still unmistakable. She breathed heavily her bosoms straining the mother of pearl buttons on her brocade gown . The sound of hoofsteps in the distance brought her back to the present.

She had to think. She took a sip out of a goblet and admired the weight and imbedded jewels.

Jade ran a manicured hand through her raven mane being careful not to move her headdress. The slight scent of lilacs and fresh air filled the room which was a welcomed because the room smelled like Valerian.

The only problem is now it can't be a techno-thriller.

Apr 14

Maybe this is the wrong genre for me. I'm a very deep person with tons of emotions. I'm also keenly aware of everything around me.

Last week at the writing group everyone seemed to be going towards literary fiction and I'm thinking it might be the way for me to go. I've always been different so this would be a great way for me to express my individuality.

The Jade manuscript will always be dear to me. It'll probably be the one I talk about in interviews when they ask me how I got started.

I still feel there is a story there, but I think I'll wait until they want to make movies of my stuff.

I think I'll get some groceries in and spend the weekend writing.

6:00

I need to be in love. I haven't had any passion in my life for so long that it's making my writing suffer.

9:00

I stenciled my bathroom and it looks awful. When they do it on the Decorating Challenge the paint never bleeds through the stencil but in real life it looks like the St. Valentine's massacre took place in front of my toilet.

11:30

I think I'm allergic to something in this apartment that's affecting my creativity. I sat down to write and I felt really dizzy. The previous occupant had wallpaper up that I took down when I moved in. I wonder if I disturbed some sort of poisonous glue that has been lingering in the air for the past three years.

1:00

There is never anything good to eat in this house. I've had two Pizza Pockets, a half a bowl of Lucky Charms, a Tootsie roll and I'm still hungry.

Apr 15

Am I on a roll or what!

I brushed my hair feeling the bristles scrape my scalp like thousands of tiny warriors, swords alert. My hair was dry. A lock held in my hand resembled fiberglass angels hair. Illusory, shimmering, dead.

I raised my hand to my face and watched the blood tiptoe back to my heart. The veins abandoned bulged with resentment. Their festive colours belying their morbidity.

My eyes, hollow tunnels leading to an unfinished roadway, deceptively present.

I am, the mirror lied.

Oh my God that is so good!!!! Writing this stuff is so easy because you don't have to worry about things like plots.

It just came to me when I was cleaning the toilet.

This is rather humbling. It's like being given a precious gift like a Faberge egg. You wouldn't put it in the fridge, you would probably put it in your china cabinet and handle it with kid gloves.

That's the way I've got to handle my gift.