I'm posting this before the wifi gets me.

Did I mention I'm doing Camp NaNoWriMo this April?

I will be continuing my Irish novel that I started for the 100 for 100 Challenge. I am preparing for more historical inaccuracies, creative liberties, poorly fleshed out characters, spotty dialogue, all the usual marks of a crummy first draft! But you know what? I don't care. I'm going to be too busy watching British television!

Speaking of British television, can we talk Doctor Who for a minute? Because I'm pretty sure Clara Oswin Oswald is going to be blimey brilliant.

Fantastic start to the second half of the season. The only con is that I'm not the one doing the adventuring. My family doesn't understand how much I am in love with Eleven, and I don't think they ever will. But I swear, when she asks if he's protecting her, and he gives the affirmative... I die inside. I love it when guys are protective. Being the eldest sibling, you do a lot of protecting. I wouldn't mind someone else having my back for a change.

I can't wait to see what Camp NaNo and DW have in store for me. Summer is coming way too fast, so I'm going to try and enjoy every waking moment of this April. As this year winds down, I become keenly aware of the lack of TARDIS in my life. *sigh* Until that day, I'm stuck progressing at a normal rate, always too fast or too slow. Hopefully I can hit my 20,000 April word count goal before time runs out!

On a final note...

She cried during Chapter ELEVEN? And it's written by AMELIA WILLIAMS? MOFFAT.

(Brownie points for getting the post title.)

Confessions of an Invalid

It's official: I have strep throat. Yuck! What to do when one is sick?

1. Eat lots of unhealthy food.
This one may not seem like such a good idea at first, but after one considers how wretchedly miserable they are, comfort food does seem to be a viable and reasonable option. I myself have already downed two pieces of buttered toast (classic sick food), a bowl of potato soup, a serving of ice cream (for my throat), a piece of spinach quiche, and a glass of orange juice. Mmmmm! I'll get around to the fruits and veggies part of my day later. *coughhopefullycough*

2. Watch television reruns.
Technically, TV is off-limits during Lent, but when you're ill at 4 AM, our family makes exceptions. I've watched nothing but Full House and Boy Meets World. I restrained myself from watching Doctor Who: That's my go-to "sick show", so I'm still making a sacrifice. 

FULL HOUSE!!! :D

3. Nap... a lot.
Even if it means you have weird dreams involving awkward proposals that go somewhere along the lines of, "I love French dresses, and I love you!" Did I mention this dream involved a certain William Mason? And that I was not being proposed to? Bummer. I was holding hands with an unknown, small child and walking nearby. Awko tacos.

I love you. Is that dress French?

4. Avoid any and all homework like the plague.
Yet another act of The Merchant of Venice? But I'm an INVALID!

*snort*

5. Read.
I finished Under a Fairy Moon, and I have yet to decide what is next on my priority list. Under a Fairy Moon was sweet, and though the writing wasn't "bad", I do think the novel needed a lot of work in terms of pacing and characterization. It still had the marks of an early draft. Of course, it's also aimed at younger children, but there were still parts where I was either confused or felt like I wasn't getting the full picture. Still, stunning cover art! I really ought to finish A History of Ireland, but I'm stuck in a dry part. Boo! Any suggestions?

6. Write.
Working on fairy-tales? Yes, please! Nothing like a fun story to lighten my mood.

What do you like to do when you're sick?

On Time

I would love to travel back in time. Traveling forward would be cool too, but back? I have a list of all the places in history that the Doctor and I are going to visit.

Yes, there is a legitimate, albeit mental, list.

This is actually a picture of me and the Doctor. I love wearing stripes, and mustard. I read every inch of the paper, religiously. I'm *almost* ginger in the sunlight (more of an Anne Shirley auburn, but I'll take what I can get). And some say I bear a resemblance to Amy Pond. Or rather, SHE bears a resemblance to ME. So this is actually a picture of us adventuring. Accept it.

However, I am currently lacking in the TARDIS department. I'm trying to be patient, but while the past isn't going anywhere, I'm not getting any older, and it can be very difficult to run down all those corridors at an advanced age. No matter. I love catching glimpses of the past, which is why my Google Docs account is a blimey beautiful thing.

Pretend it says "Google Docs" instead of "Police Box". Kay?

Some days, when that "inspiration train" I mentioned in a previous post is miles away, I like to leaf through my old stuff. It makes me smile, laugh, frown, blush, and think. I rediscover the best and uncover some of the worst. The best part is when I get caught up in my own story and think, "Wow! This is pretty awesome!" I'm not saying it happens often, but when it does, it's a pretty surreal experience.

I would just like to encourage everyone out there to save every last bit of writing they can. Will you regret writing some of it? You bet! I have these old notebooks from freshman year, full of snippits of a fantasy story I was attempting to write. The writing was horrid. I can only read tiny bits without turning twenty shades of scarlet. Do I regret keeping them? No! (Well, maybe a little. This sophomore kind of found my notebook and identified it... by my handwriting... OUCH.) Point is, old stories are a window to the past. Totally worth hanging onto.

In her book, Writing Magic, Gail Carson Levine writes:

"I used to think, long ago, that when I grew up, I'd remember what it felt like to be a child and that I'd always be able to get back to my child self. But I can't. When you become a teenager, you step onto a bridge. You may already be on it. The opposite shore is adulthood. Childhood lies behind. The bridge is made of wood. As you cross, it burns behind you. If you save what you write, you still won't be able to cross back to childhood. But you'll be able to see yourself in the lost country. You'll be able to wave at yourself across that wide river. Whether or not you continue to write, you will be glad to have the souvenirs of your earlier self."

So true. Unless, of course, you're Peter Pan. However, he has numerous other issues, including being mean and prideful. And that whole not wanting grow up thing? It really is his greatest pretend.
* Note: If you haven't read Peter Pan, you MUST. Let me know if you are: I will send you my condensed biography of the author, J.M. Barrie, so that you can understand how truly sad the story really is! Huzzah!

I love Thomas Kinkade Disney paintings. ^_^

While I go and try and suck some inspiration from my old musings, go compile a portfolio of your old work. It may help you in the future - or at least make your day a little brighter.

And please, if you don't know who the Doctor is or why I've posted a picture of an old fashioned police box, CLICK THIS LINK AS IF YOUR LIFE DEPENDED ON IT.

Expect the unexpected!

I am poised like a panther, ready to expect the unexpected!

Oh, well I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition!  That changes everything.

I've quit expecting bursts of inspiration any more. There was a time when I could count on sporadic writing sprees to hit at least once a month. That "time" was several years ago. Now I'm lucky for one inspired day out of every ten! Usually, this is a bad thing. Less inspiration = not good. But then, every so often, it hits me, like a train. And I like trains.

I get run over by inspiration going 100 miles per hour! Today's inspiration has been the equivalent of a single car, not a whole train, but you know what? I'll take it. Now please excuse me, I'm gonna go write some more.