mood: ecstatic
music: You Found Me – The Fray

When Mark broke up with me, my writing and webdesigning both took a toll. I didn’t really have the energy for it, not to mention the heart. It wouldn’t be accurate to say something tacky like that he’d been my inspiration or anything (because I don’t need to rely on people IRL for inspiration when the Internet is filled with such amazing, talented writers and artists), but that major event shook up my world to the point that I couldn’t really function as the Elaine I was anymore. And I’ve mentioned repeatedly on here that writing and designing are at the core of who I am.

I tried doing NaNoWriMo this past November, but I just couldn’t handle it. Too much drama was going on in my life, and I was emotionally exhausted from everything as it was. I was in the middle of Live, Love, Dream, but the topic became too difficult to deal with. My only activity in writing pretty much consisted of long journal entries and posting chapters of Duelist’s Point on FF.net. Then, I started working on the superhero story that I’d conceived a couple of years ago in Vegas. And hot damn, this stuff started flowing out of my fingertips like magic! To this day, I’ve written over 25k words for it, which is the most I’ve ever done for any original story. I’m very, very proud of what I’ve come up with.

But fanfiction still wasn’t really striking the right chord with me. Blame it on the emotional scarring, blame it on how I’d become a big fat cynic about romance again, blame it on the lack of a fandom, anything. It just wasn’t working for me.

But then I started diving into the DC Comics fandom, and reading Superman/Batman stuff, and I remembered what I’d loved so much about fanfiction.

It gave me an escape — and something to believe in.

And so I finished City Love. I finished Live, Love, Dream. I began really thinking about what all those review/favorite/alert notifications I received weekly from my FF.net stories. And about two weeks ago, I started writing my first DC Comics fic. Finished it the day before yesterday. Posted it on worlds_finest last night, nervous as all hell about the fact that the people who were going to read it weren’t stragglers from a dead fandom or an old pairing — they were people whose stories I had been following for the past few months, people who floored me with their writing, people who were legitimate fans, legitimate readers, and legitimate writers.

I know it’s crass to say that a lot of the reviews I receive on FF.net are from quite a different crowd, but it’s the truth. Anyone who writes fanfiction knows the rep that FF.net users have. LJ writers are of a different caliber completely. And gosh, was I nervous to get back into the game!

But they loved it. It’s only been twenty-four hours, but I’ve already received twelve reviews, all of which sing high praises for the story, which isn’t even 2000 words long.

I couldn’t stop grinning like a loon all day.

I’ve still got it. In fact, I’ve got it much more than I ever had it before, seeing as the last time I was writing with the big guys was when I was a notable Darkshipping author at age twelve! I mean, I had my stint in Cars, and The Magic of Mistletoe has a whopping 91 reviews, but still. It’s been a while.

And DAMN, does it feel good!

And I think I’ve forgotten how big of a difference I can make in people’s lives with these stories — I mean, just look at what they did for me! Fanfiction pretty much got me over Mark and how bitchy and hurtful my friends were being earlier this year. A lot of my reviews mentioned that my story had brightened the reveiwers’ day. And let’s face it — nobody really needs to say that. A good story doesn’t have to actually affect your daily life.

But anyone who’s a real reader knows that it does. It really does!

So I’m going to really put my heart into this this summer. I’m going to try to churn out as many stories, continuations, drabbles, anything, as I can.

Because I love writing.

I love reading.

And I definitely, definitely love sharing with people who feel the same way.

mood: pleased
music: Hello Seattle (Remix) – Owl City

Clark pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. It’s always much easier when he’s writing.
- “And So We Meet And There Are Sparks”, by untitledno8

Today, I finished my latest notebook. I can’t tell you what feels better, the triumph of filling up a notebook or the excitement of starting a new one.

I love being a writer. I love it. Sometimes, it’s awkward because I don’t want to be that kid who thinks she’s the shit just because she writes in her free time. I never profess to be working on novels, because I don’t want people to think I’m this fantastic prolific writer. But people assume anyway, and then I feel like a poser. But then when I really think about it, it’s like, who cares? If they think I’m just trying to be cool, fine. If they think I’m going to be some bestselling author, fine. Neither of them are true, but what does it matter when I have a pen in my hand, blank pages to fill, and gigs to fill on my laptop?

I don’t care what people think of it, because how can I deny something that is so at the core of my soul? Ugh, that sounds so corny, but seriously? Writing is me. I might even venture to say that I’m the most me when I’m writing, if that makes sense.

I posted Live, Love, Dream a week or so ago. It’s the Heartshipping future fic that I started last summer, before the breakup. The official summary is “After a harsh separation from his wife Anzu, Yuugi learns how to survive a breakup, hold onto his dreams, and fall in love with a long lost friend.” The story details how and why Anzu and Yuugi’s marriage fails, along with how and why Yuugi and Ryou fall in love. It’s 14k words, probably the longest one-shot I’ve ever written, but I liked it as one unit better than split into multiple chapters. Gosh, I’m so proud of it. I think it’s all very realistic, and I can say that with confidence after experiencing everything that I’ve experienced in the past year. I also really like the story and the emotions involved in the story a lot, because it addresses my cynicism about marriages and people who just don’t work with each other no matter how in love they are, but it also shows the possibility of finding someone who gives you what you could never find in anyone else. It’s sobering yet hopeful, ya know? I dunno. I thought it was cool because I wrote over half of it before the breakup, and then when I read it right after the breakup, I couldn’t really…handle it. The emotions in the story just resonated with me too much, and I later realized that that’s a great sign. I dunno. I think it’s my favorite work of mine now.

I’ve also been working on my superhero story (I can’t figure out a suitable title!) continuously, which has been such a joy to write. I don’t even know how it’s all coming out so easily. I’ve never written so much material for an original story before. It feels so damn good. I’m working really hard on characterization, because I think that’s one of the most difficult things to get a really good grip on. With fanfiction, you have to make sure you don’t write your characters out of character, otherwise your stories will be unrecognizable as part of the fandom. With original fiction, you have to make sure your characters make sense and are likeable and relatable without being obnoxiously Mary-Sue-like. Also, the lines between cliched characterizations, interesting interpretations of archetypes, and characters that are just too random and original to make sense are really thin. So I’ve really enjoyed figuring that stuff out. Designing characters always been one of my favorite parts of writing, anyway. Since I was little, I loved creating characters. Half of my writing notebooks from when I was little are filled with scribblings about characters that I created and then never really used for anything, haha. I’m also getting a lot of practice in writing from different points of view. Right now, I’m practicing writing the story in the protagonist’s (1st person) point of view, which I never do, especially not in past tense. It’s been interesting. It’s so much harder to describe stuff from that limited of a perspective, but it’s also way easier to grasp the character’s voice and motivations that way. I dunno, it’s been neat! But I think that when I finish, I might go back and rewrite the whole thing in 3rd (maybe 3rd limited?) person, since I think that shows off my writing skills a little better.

Anyway, yeah! I just started a Clark/Bruce fic (from Alfred’s perspective, for practice on telling a story through the eyes of someone not really involved), and I want to finish my Charlie/Mike masterpiece, “Broken Glass,” this summer, along with my long-lost Darkshipping chapter story, “Fly with Me.” In fact, I’m going to check out FWM and post another chapter of “Duelist’s Point” right now! Woo!

This is my “cool bits,” things that I love to see in stories. (Meme by rachelmanija over at LJ.) When I started this list, I thought it would be interesting to organize what gets me excited when I read stuff. When I finished (if it’s even possible to finish something like this), I realized that it actually also tells a lot about what I’m like as a writer. Kinda awesome. Here we go!

Happy (but plausible) endings. Heroism. End-of-the-world and the-world-is-at-stake plots. Debates about free will versus fate. Time traveling. Alternate realities. Bittersweet themes. Teamwork. Dying for the people you love. Moral ambiguity. Friendship. Surprise twists. Growing/learning from the past. Second chances. Hope. Tomorrow.

Non-discriminatory love that transcends time, space, physics, and death. Never loving anyone else. Waiting for your loved one no matter what. The One. Friendships with lots of unresolved sexual tension. Stoic characters falling in love. Love/hate relationships resulting in love. Magical soul bonding. Interspecies love. Characters going crazy after someone they love dies. Being pushed to your limits due to love. Relationships that seem totally improbable but really work. Long-term relationships being possible. “You’re beautiful.” Love making a character do things that seem almost out-of-character. Deathbed love confessions. Sickbed love confessions. Playful flirting. Hugs. The tragic love between two people with unequal lifespans. First kisses. First times. Characters thinking that their attraction/love is unrequited being proven wrong. Love that characters try to deny but ultimately fail to push away. Love blooming because nobody else can understand them. Soulmates.

Superpowers. Magic. Action. Detective work. Details sprinkled throughout a story that all come together slowly. Clues that pop out upon rereads. A character caring for another character who is hurt. Journeys. Quests. Magical items. Really cool weapons. Going down fighting. Final battles. Portals. Swordfights. Alien technology.

Characters struggling to just be normal and accepted. Protagonists insecure about not fitting in. Finding a place and purpose in the world. Secret identities. Characters taking on huge responsibilities. Warriors with big hearts. Characters that kick-ass but have depth. Super-intelligent characters. Unlikely heroes. The underdog kicking butt. Self-sacrificing characters. Wise-cracking characters. Snarky, mean characters. Silly bimbo characters. Groups of people from different backgrounds working together. Tragic character backgrounds. Characters in denial of their true feelings. Having faith in your friends and comrades. Characters who understand each other without words. Cold female characters. Clueless male characters. Unlikely leaders.

Convincing antagonists. Misunderstood villains. Super-intelligent villains. Villains with Really Good Intentions. Villains who think the human race sucks. Sexy villains. Traitors. Double-crossing. Spies. Reformed villains. Anti-heroes.

Uniforms. Capes. Formal clothes. Gloves. Boots. Things being hidden in boots. Masks. Belts. Gadgets. Lockpicks. Damaged clothes. Stripping. Descriptions of smiles. Descriptions of eyes. Characters wearing something that has personal significance to them. Precious belongings. Wedding rings. Character possessing the last thing that belongs to someone dead. Permanent injuries that make sense.

Cities. The future. Dystopias. Worlds that aren’t our own. Sunset. Dawn.

Unreliable narrators. Third-person limited point of view. Strong dialogue. Vivid but concise descriptions. Little details that contribute to the big picture. Images and scenes that stick with you. Foils. Randomly deep character insight. Creative formats. Nonstandard styles of narration.

What I also didn’t count on is how much this actually tells about myself. That “love transcending all” theme? I love that idea. I love the idea that despite all obstacles, two people can find each other and complete each other. It’s not realistic. I know that. It’s like…the total opposite of what I actually believe to be possible in my life. (I believed it for two months, but that’s besides the point.) But I think that’s why I like reading about it so much. Because I don’t think it’s possible in the real world. Weirdly enough, this also shows that, somewhere deep beneath all the cynicism and disillusion, that’s what I want.

And that’s…a difficult pill to swallow.

The “tomorrow” stuff, though? “Second chances?” Totally me, without doubt.

I hardly read older blog or journal entries anymore. The really early stuff, all the years of pining and fantasizing and angsting is just way too immature and silly and inane to sit through anymore. Then, there’s like a year and a half’s worth of stuff that’s just too…blissfully and ignorantly happy for me to handle now that I know how it turned out. Then, I really can’t read through the heartbroken stuff because I’m both affected and unaffected by it at the same time. I used to read over old stuff all the time, even every night before I went to sleep.

I feel like there’s this odd wall now, in my mind, between this cynical happiness (how I was meant to be, my mind whispers) and all that raw emotion of those years. I’m not avoiding them (I know this because I can definitely read them and not be emotionally disturbed, I just don’t really enjoy reminiscing), but I don’t really like delving in them, either. I wouldn’t take back my experiences because without them I wouldn’t be who I am today, but sometimes, I dunno.

I’m reading Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge, which, like what seems like all of the bestselling books that I pick up, discusses the futility of marriage. In fact, an alarming plurality of the stories that we receive for the Berkeley Fiction Review are about adultery, too.

At first, I was amazed at how all these authors deconstructed marriage.

But then you start thinking that maybe there’s a reason that adultery is such a prevalent theme in books that become bestsellers. Maybe people relate to these stories the most. Maybe the authors experienced it. Maybe the authors saw it everywhere around them.

I hate that.

I hate the thought of the ultimate form of love and commitment being banal or even leading to such atrocities of moral behavior. I have always hated that. It made me swore off of marriage at a very young age. When Erin’s parents (who had created what seemed like the perfect, wholesome American family) separated during my junior year of high school, it was like a stab in the heart for me. As if I needed any more confirmation that long-term commitment is an impossibility (five out of my nine friends at home have parents who are separated or divorced).

I’ve always had a very cynical perception of the idea. When Mark spoke of being together on a long-term basis after the breakup, it wasn’t his wish that was shocking — it was my enthusiasm towards that idea.

I’m not quite sure anyone really gets it and I’m very paranoid that people only think I’m bluffing that I’m not that type, but it really is not a very Elaine thing.

I may have a tendency to get lost in my infatuations, but I’ve always feared and disliked discussing long-term things. When Mark and I talked, I was still nervous about that kind of bond, but it’s a testament to how madly in love I was that I legitimately wanted that life for myself, even though it went against a lot of what I stood for. That was the magic, right? That we both wanted the same thing — something so simple, yet so unimaginably complicated and unexpected from both of us.

But the magic is over, and I’ve lost a lot of my fire. It’s not a bad thing, because that kind of passion is dangerous to live with. But I’m not sure I believe in love anymore, much less relationships. Lately, I’ve even wondered if my attraction towards people is fading. Maybe it’s a part of growing up? I don’t know. It all just seems very empty and useless. Why waste time chasing anybody when I can spend it watching cartoons and reading? Why waste time thinking about anybody when I can spend it brainstorming about the next scene in my superhero story? Why waste time checking out that hot guy who just walked by or the buxom lady at the register when I can spend it paying attention to my friends instead?

We all adapt and cope in our own ways, I suppose. I feel healed and damn good every day, but there’s no denying that a large part of who I was has died. Usually, I focus on how fantastic that is, that I’m no longer meek Elaine who didn’t know how to speak to strangers and who demanded no respect. Sometimes, though, I think it’s healthy to also address the fact that I’m also much less of a believer.

In anything.

This is not where I saw myself in the summer before my junior year. But then again, what the hell did I see? Some stupid fantasy of another summer of blissful romance? Some silly notion of things coming together? Some dumb faith in the power of things that I was so sure existed?

Mark gave me faith in a lot of things that I wasn’t certain about.

But I don’t need him for that now. Instead, I go to fanfiction. Nobody really understands exactly how and why I immerse myself in this stuff so completely. Maybe it’s akin to how some girls love watching chick flicks, no matter how ludicrous and implausible they seem. The love, the tragedy, the emotion, the power of execution — it makes a lot of things come alive, things that we seem to see less and less of as we grow older. It’s so easy to lose yourself in it, and the feeling of being consumed by words has always delighted me to no end. And skilled authors — they make you really believe.

And it’s a good feeling, in those hours when I’m immersed in some getting-together story, some established-couple story (it doesn’t matter), I truly do believe that relationships work. That love is possible. That love can last and remains alive forever. That “‘Til death do us part” refers to more than the physical proximity of two people.

Maybe this is just a phase. Maybe it’s not. Who cares? I’ve never been one to have much faith in human nature, anyway. (It’s why I’m so paranoid about everything from people stealing my things to making promises regarding the heart.) As long as it doesn’t affect my happiness, it’s all good.

And I’m happy.

So it’s all good.

Just interesting.

mood: pretty damn fantastical
music: Beat on Repeat – Jet

To say that I’ve been reading a lot recently would be a complete understatement. I’ve been reading practically every hour of the day, and any time that I’m not reading, I’m writing something, whether it be an essay, a scene in my superhero story, or even just a text message.

I haven’t felt so good in a long time.

I’m not sure what exactly it is that’s making me so happy lately, but I’ve just been feeling so free and ambitious and powerful and damn good about myself. Yeah, there are problems in my life. Anxieties, insecurities, annoyances, difficulties. But they’re honestly not really getting to me. Is it the walls I’ve built? Is it the lessons I’ve learned? Is it my positive attitude? I don’t know, but I’m not going to question it.

“And if I’m flying solo / At least I’m flying free.” – “Defying Gravity,” Wicked

I’m flying through fanfiction, fiction review short stories, and school reading at the moment. Watching Justice League has of course gotten me into that fandom, and the community that I’ve been following produces some pretty high-quality fiction. The only thing more disappointing than a lack of fanfiction for some fandom is a lack of GOOD fanfiction for some fandom. Thank god that comic book/cartoon fans can actually write! It’s exciting, and I’m quite addicted.

I’ve also been reading a lot of stories for Berkeley Fiction Review, of which I am a part. There was a fiasco a few weeks ago when I realized that I hadn’t been logging the stories that I’d read (I’m required to review 50 for a passing grade), and the director of the organization said that she wasn’t just going to go by my word; I had to redo them, even though I’d already done like 35 stories. After stewing in anger and frustration for a day, I decided to read all 50 stories over the weekend in retaliation for the shitty situation. And to prove to myself that there was no reason getting bogged down/to let anything get me down. I actually managed to do it without going crazy and felt pretty awesome afterward. How’s that for overcoming obstacles!

Also have fallen in love with Paradise Lost and Shakespeare plays lately. Paradise Lost especially has been an eye-opener. Just… Wow. It was a struggle to get into and understand at first, but once I did, oh man. I was completely enthralled, to the point that I would be excited to go to lecture. I actually started drinking coffee regularly to ensure that I’d be able to remain awake throughout the entire duration of all the Paradise Lost lectures, LOL. Milton is an amazing artist, and I cannot fathom how he wrote that epic blind. What a baller!

Anyway. I’ve just been feeling really strong lately. I think maybe it’s my freedom that’s been fueling me. I’m definitely not infatuated with anyone right now and not really wanting to be. Seeing my friends in difficult relationships has really turned me off of the idea of ever engaging in them again. I mean, I know that I’m very different from them, so I could have completely different relationships with people. And I mean, I have some friends who are in some very solid and strong relationships, too, so it’s not like I’m blindly denying successful relationships or anything. But I’m pretty sure that getting with anyone right now, right here, would cramp my freedom, and I’m really not down for that ATM. Independence FTW!

I’ve also been feeling pretty good about my friendships lately. There are a few select people that I’m really sad that I don’t talk to anymore, but it’s come to the point that like… If they don’t appreciate me enough to make the effort, then I’m not going to bother. I’ve “bothered” for much too long. But for the people who are making the effort despite whatever gap has widened between us, I’m willing to go to the extra mile and take a leap. C.J. didn’t have battery class today, and Katie was doing drug testing for her summer job, so C.J. and I ended up hanging out alone at Qualcomm for a while, just talking like we used to. We discussed religion and then I shared my feelings/stories about being bi and coming out and stuff, and then he told me some really funny stories that I’d heard of vaguely but not in their entirety. It was fun and enlightening, and it made me feel better about our friendship, which has felt like it’s been waning this semester. So hooray!

Mark and I have been doing really well lately, too. We’re watching Glee together again (since it’s back), and he’s been coming up consistently to hang out with me and chill with my friends. He’s been coming to me for some support a lot lately, too, and I’m honored to help him as best as I can. Once, when he was really upset, he told me that he’s so proud of how strong I’ve grown this year and how far I’ve come. That made me really happy, along with the really, really nice note he left for me one morning: “Thanks for always being an amazing friend. Don’t know what I’d do without you. Love, Mark.” How special. I’ve come to the realization that our friendship has reached the like…lifelong quality that characterizes my friendship with Diana. No matter what happens to us, we’re going to last. I know it. In times of desperation and despair, we turn to each other. Sometimes it feels like there’s nobody else in the world who will listen the way that he does.

To show him how special he is to me, I baked him a pie for his birthday (which was on Friday)! A key lime pie, to be exact. Out of scratch, too! (Well, except for the crust, since I didn’t have the pan for it.) This doesn’t really happen, you understand. I love to cook, but I’m not much of a baker. It’s something that Mark always lamented when we were together, so I figured it’d be nice to go out of my way to make something for him. I hope it meant more because he knows that I don’t ordinarily do such things. But OMG, the night that I was going to give it to him, he texted me to tell me that my friends and I should go see him to help him finish the strawberry cheesecake that a girl in his a cappella group had baked him.

I was so upset, LOL. Anyone’s baking would be more legit than mine! The cheesecake tasting good was both exciting (just because I love good food, hahaha) and really disappointing (since mine would probably never measure up). My friends had to bear through me nudging their sides like the whole night in consternation, haha. I got even more upset when Mark told us about how his OTHER friend in DeCadence was making him a red velvet cake. How the hell do you beat a red velvet cake?!

Well, I did my best. He came up last night and I decorated the pie with whipped cream and fresh fruit that I’d bought the day before and an…inscription? Well, you know. Sugar-gel text, haha, reading “Happy Birthday, Bestest!” And he was genuinely really excited and delighted. I actually asked him if he was exaggerating/being sarcastic at first, heh, but he said that he wasn’t. He seemed to really like my card, too. So yay! I’m definitely one of those people who enjoy giving more than getting. There’s just something about that brief look of delight on anyone’s face when you give them something that they are really excited about — it’s beautiful and really heartwarming.

…So this entry was meant to talk about the power of words. Whoops. I’ll save it for another time, I guess. Time to eat some din, watch some JLU, and slink on over to the Daily Cal. Woot!