Rotary Interview, and how!

I suppose I’ve been getting enough searches for “Rotary,” “Interview,” etc., that I could confidently say people are nervous about this. I concur. It’s absolutely nerve-wrecking. So I’m going to explain a little bit of the process, so it’s a little less of a mystery, and a little less daunting.

Basically, I can only say anything with complete confidence about my district. So, the format may not be completely the same, but knowing more about Rotary now (and you will too, if all goes well, with later stuff) I’d say it’s at least somewhat consistent.

Haiku!

雪景空
眠れない夜
星がない

Sekkei sora
Nemurenai yoru
Hoshi ga nai…

Snowy sky
A sleepless night
No stars…

And she returns.  Sick, yes, tired, yes, back at school and already worried over work again.  But in tact, with poetry at my side.

I’ve got some other stuff, so hang in there.  It may have been ages since I’ve actually put something up, but the internet signal here is, well, existant.

Ciao!

A terrible writer am I.

I know, I know, I’ve been horrible at maintaining this.  Two days and I’m free.   Free, I tell you.   From the clutches of Academy.

But just in case you thought I was dead (hell, I’ve thought I was dead for the past couple weeks), I thought I’d put something up.  Even if all this does is make people laugh at my ridiculousness, that’s okay.  Sometimes, I’m truly ridiculous.  All you have to do is ask Classic Act’s boy.  He might write decent poetry (and fanfic!) but in his freetime, what he really likes to do is mock people! (a la Josh Lyman…I miss that name)  Lucky boy, that I know not to take it seriously.  I have a mean kick.

Oh, the novel…the one that was maybe going to be a NaNoWriMo, is going.  But it is not going quickly.  (Note the lack of time to update here.  I have about two minutes to finish typing this, and it’s off to a chemistry lab) It should be done sometime within the next…few…months.  Wow, it’s never encouraging to admit that sort of thing.  This stuff really is a lot of time.  But that way, it’s actually a finished, polished product, rather than something sketched out.  I’ll keep random updates on that going.

Well, at this point, it’s Mata Doyoubi.  Ashita is all too close and jam packed with not-my-birthday and four hour internetless bus rides home.

But Saturday (Doyoubi) will come sooner than I think.  It always does.

NaNoWriMo 2006

My last three posts are a short story I’ll probably carry into my NaNoWriMo.  I’m thinking.  I didn’t have planning time before because getting to a foreign country is so much work.

Any thoughts?  Good start?  Is it a typical, or annoying premise? (Something I’m always worried about is being too generic.  I’ve been spinning around the story to try to get something out of the ordinary.)  Help, four days into the month, could be fantastic.

…thanks.  ^_^

As a footnote, please, as always, be completely honest.  If it’s terrible, I’d rather know that than write junk.  Agreed?

Chicago, Part 3.

I didn’t want to tell you. But honestly, I did. “Ellery White.” (last name subject to change) Our address was unlisted anyway. Not that I honestly think that would have kept you away.

“Nice to meet another person blatantly named after a writer.”

When I glanced up it was the first time I actually noticed you.

Chicago, Part 2.

You were a bit of a mystery for a while. You were too familiar to be anything but.

“Hey you.” You were only recognizable as a stranger in the dark, clouded twilight. I didn’t even bother registering your voice as audible to me until you planted yourself on the concrete next to me. “I said hello.”

I looked up. You were a stranger, remember? “Hello.” And I looked down. Suddenly, my pen poised over the paper, suspended and uneasy by both the idea of a stranger and the idea of sketching real words.

“So. How are you?”

Chicago.

No matter how I look at it, I always mean to say “I want to find someone.” “I can’t wait until I’m more mature.” “I want to get out of this place.” “I need to find myself, somehow.” It never means what I want it to, or what other people imagine it too, because I’m not naïve enough anymore. Who said too much past means no future? I wonder, sometimes, if it’s just me. This happens multiple times over a day, but never so fast. Sometimes I can actually believe I’m just confident. Maybe.

Hey, maybe I am. Maybe I’m confident enough to know what I want. Maybe I’m assertive, to admit that I’d like to find someone. I’m not made for this alone thing.

Then I look around. I’m not made for any of these guys, either.