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Because you're Swiss, not feta

You know, if New Moon was actually a satire, I'd say it was geniusly done, especially when Bella keeps going on (and on and on) about her "gaping hole".

But for a description that is supposed to be taken seriously...well, honestly, can you take it seriously?

On another note, why, oh Stephenie, why would you want to compare your deepest, darkest, rawest and most painful feelings to...cheese?

Read the above simile with regards to Swiss cheese again and tell me that that's not something to be taken straight out of a parody.

Then again, this post from RwV just made me laugh for much too long.

Please, Bella Stephenie, research cheese before you start using it as a simile/metaphor for depression. Thank you.

A tiny candle in a dark, swirling world

November had just proved to be one of the most frustrating month at work, and December is not looking much better, even with the prospect of Christmas break and TOIL around the corner. Needless to say, Nanowrimo fell flat on its face, and I saw it coming, but was in denial for most of November, until around 30/11, I finally accepted that I wasn't going dish out another 20,000 words that day to make the 50k mark.

In general, this last month had been a writing fail month, since I planned to do a lot and ended up achieving very little.

Anyway, I guess all this rambling is to say, I was in creative hell this last month, and the weekly pep talks from Nanowrimo didn't do much to encourage me, except this gem from Lemony Snicket himself. I just wanted to tuck this away here so that I can find it later, because it certainly is made of gold.

Dear Cohort,

Struggling with your novel? Paralyzed by the fear that it's nowhere near good enough? Feeling caught in a trap of your own devising? You should probably give up.

For one thing, writing is a dying form. One reads of this every day. Every magazine and newspaper, every hardcover and paperback, every website and most walls near the freeway trumpet the news that nobody reads anymore, and everyone has read these statements and felt their powerful effects. The authors of all those articles and editorials, all those manifestos and essays, all those exclamations and eulogies - what would they say if they knew you were writing something? They would urge you, in bold-faced print, to stop.

Clearly, the future is moving us proudly and zippily away from the written word, so writing a novel is actually interfering with the natural progress of modern society. It is old-fashioned and fuddy-duddy, a relic of a time when people took artistic expression seriously and found solace in a good story told well. We are in the process of disentangling ourselves from that kind of peace of mind, so it is rude for you to hinder the world by insisting on adhering to the beloved paradigms of the past. It is like sitting in a gondola, listening to the water carry you across the water, while everyone else is zooming over you in jetpacks, belching smoke into the sky. Stop it, is what the jet-packers would say to you. Stop it this instant, you in that beautiful craft of intricately-carved wood that is giving you such a pleasant journey.

Besides, thdre are already plenty of novels. There is no need for a new one. One could devote one's entire life to reading the work of Henry James, for instance, and never touch another novel by any other author, and never be hungry for anything else, the way one could live on nothing but multivitamin tablets and pureed root vegetables and never find oneself craving wild mushroom soup or linguini with clam sauce or a plain roasted chicken with lemon-zested dandelion greens or strong black coffee or a perfectly ripe peach or chips and salsa or caramel ice cream on top of poppyseed cake or smoked salmon with capers or aged goat cheese or a gin gimlet or some other startling item sprung from the imagination of some unknown cook. In fact, think of the world of literature as an enormous meal, and your novel as some small piddling ingredient - the drawn butter, for example, served next to a large, boiled lobster. Who wants that? If it were brought to the table, surely most people would ask that it be removed post-haste.

Even if you insisted on finishing your novel, what for? Novels sit unpublished, or published but unsold, or sold but unread, or read but unreread, lonely on shelves and in drawers and under the legs of wobbly tables. They are like seashells on the beach. Not enough people marvel over them. They pick them up and put them down. Even your friends and associates will never appreciate your novel the way you want them to. In fact, there are likely just a handful of readers out in the world who are perfect for your book, who will take it to heart and feel its mighty ripples throughout their lives, and you will likely never meet them, at least under the proper circumstances. So who cares? Think of that secret favorite book of yours - not the one you tell people you like best, but that book so good that you refuse to share it with people because they'd never understand it. Perhaps it's not even a whole book, just a tiny portion that you'll never forget as long as you live. Nobody knows you feel this way about that tiny portion of literature, so what does it matter? The author of that small bright thing, that treasured whisper deep in your heart, never should have bothered.

Of course, it may well be that you are writing not for some perfect reader someplace, but for yourself, and that is the biggest folly of them all, because it will not work. You will not be happy all of the time. Unlike most things that most people make, your novel will not be perfect. It may well be considerably less than one-fourth perfect, and this will frustrate you and sadden you. This is why you should stop. Most people are not writing novels which is why there is so little frustration and sadness in the world, particularly as we zoom on past the novel in our smoky jet packs soon to be equipped with pureed food. The next time you find yourself in a group of people, stop and think to yourself, probably no one here is writing a novel. This is why everyone is so content, here at this bus stop or in line at the supermarket or standing around this baggage carousel or sitting around in this doctor's waiting room or in seventh grade or in Johannesburg. Give up your n ovel, and join the crowd. Think of all the things you could do with your time instead of participating in a noble and storied art form. There are things in your cupboards that likely need to be moved around.

In short, quit. Writing a novel is a tiny candle in a dark, swirling world. It brings light and warmth and hope to the lucky few who, against insufferable odds and despite a juggernaut of irritations, find themselves in the right place to hold it. Blow it out, so our eyes will not be drawn to its power. Extinguish it so we can get some sleep. I plan to quit writing novels myself, sometime in the next hundred years.

--Lemony Snicket

The 21st Century is Kind of Awesome

This was supposed to go into the author's note for the latest chapter of The Prince and Me but then it began to feel like it's going to get longer than the fic itself.

The name of the chapter (The 21st Century is Kind of Awesome) is basically the summary of a Twilight fanfic that is currently on my favourite list (yes, I do have Twilight fics in my fav list, and often they are better than the books). That fic, called going nowhere, going somewhere by Estora revolves around an Edward who actually has a personality. This fic has very little to do with the chapter of my fic, but I liked the phrase hehe.

First of all, I have to say the chapter The 21st Century is Kind of Awesome is partly a result of my attempt at Nanowrimo this year (which I failed spectacularly, all efforts considered). Part of Nano includes a lot of procrastination time whereby I dig up all these character building quizzes. You now, quizzes that have you pretend to be your character and answer questions about each and every one of their likes and dislike.

And so The 21st Century is Kind of Awesome is a sort of an exploration of some of Xiao Yan's (and to a certain extent, Yong Qi's) likes and dislikes, but then somehow goes into a sort of reflection of my own rather odd love affair with Zhao Wei.

On the subject of some of Yong Qi's likes, in reality, Tottenham Hotspurs are not doing so badly in the Premier League as I imply in the chapter. Not that I actually follow Premier League football.

In case you did not recognise the movie that Xiao Yan and Yong Qi went to see in this chapter, it is, of course, A Time to Love, starring Zhao Wei and Lu Yi.

I just wanted to share the whole idea behind the scene where Xiao Yan and Yong Qi went to the hotpot restaurant, which on the surface seems like a pretty useless scene. Well, it is pretty useless, but it's 100% based on my experience at Hai Di Lao Hotpot.

Bei Wa Lu is a real street in Beijing (at least, I think I remembered it right), where near there is a real Hai Di Lao Hotpot restaurant. I ate there when I was recently (read, a month ago) in Beijing and I swear, it was one of the best service experiences of my life, if not the best. In Vietnamese we have a saying, "The customer is the emperor" and boy, did I feel like an emperor there.

My friend and I didn’t actually have to wait for a table when we went there, but there was a waiting area that looked pretty cool and I have heard you do actually get a manicure and a shoe shine as you wait.

Regarding the bathroom of this restaurant, it might seem strange for me to gush about a bathroom. But I swear everything I described in that scene in the fic is true. Except that, unlike Xiao Yan, I couldn't ask a waiter for direction to the bathroom from my table (because I speak no Chinese), it took me several near wrong turns to get to the bathroom. Yes, there were signs but still it was like a maze. I nearly got lost getting back to the table, which of course has no sign to direct me. But the bathroom was pretty awesome, especially compared to normal Beijing public toilets, but I won't go into that.

Of course, whether this restaurant existed in 2005 when The Prince and Me was set, I don't know and if it did, whether it looked like it does now in 2010 is debatable. And for all my awe about this restaurant, I was disappointed when I got home and realised I had taken no photo of it. I think my friend and I were too busy eating.

By the way, while I'm on the topic of my trip to Beijing, I have to say I did pass Gong Zhu Fen or the place that inspired HZGG. Well, it's a subway station. So...it's pretty unepic. But I did get a photo of the sign that said Gong Zhu Fen.

My friend and I were planning to go to the set where they shot HZGG but that plan fell through the roof. That place is supposed to be quite a way outside the city so we were actually ready to spend a whole day to get there and back. Unfortunately the day before we planned to go, we decided to go to the Ba Da Ling Great Wall near the Olympic One World One Dream sign. On a Sunday in the Chinese National Day weekend.

Well, needless to say, the combination of the destination and the date made traffic...a nightmare. We left the house at 7am and got the Great Wall at 12 noon. Yeah, I spent 5 hours standing squished on a bus. Anyway, we knew that to go to the place where they shot HZGG, we'd have to pretty much make that same bus trip, only go for even longer. After that bus trip from hell, not even the prospect of seeing Shu Fang Zhai (if it's still there, which is doubtful) could draw two massive HZGG fans to get on that bus again.

And I actually had hoped to see Jing Yang Gong when I visited the Palace Museum. That didn't happen either. Again, it was Chinese National Day holidays, so the Palace Museum was packed. I don't think it would be even that packed when people actually lived there. So basically by the time we made it from the Imperial Garden out to Qian Qing Gong, we were basically too eager to get out of the crowd (by that time, all we could actually see was people and practically nothing else.) to even want to go find Jing Yang Gong which was somewhere off to the sides. We didn't even bother to fight our way in to see Tai Hua Dian which is arguably one of the main attractions of the place.

View from Wu Men

Boy, after visiting the Palace Museum, did I feel for Xiao Yan Zi. Now I totally understand why she needed the Easy Kneeling. And now I also so understand why getting in was hard, getting out of the palace was even harder.

We sat on the steps of Yang Xin Dian, eating ice cream. I'm pretty sure Qian Long would have loved us for it if he ever knew. Then again, I'm pretty sure if ice cream existed in China in those days, Xiao Yan Zi would not be above eating it while sitting on the steps of Yang Xin Dian either.

No, I didn't make it to Heng Dian Studios in Zhejiang to check out the set of the New HZGG. But that's probably for the best. Though speaking of New HZGG, walking around the market, or the Palace Museum, or the Great Wall, there were a lot of stalls selling the Manchurian princess hats as souvenir or toys. Please tell me this is normal in Beijing regardless of the new HZGG being made. But even then, I suspect these princess hats are a result of the New HZGG since along with Manchurian princess hats, there were exact replica of the new Sai Ya's (Tibetan princess) hat as shown in released stills of HZGG. Well, looks like the drama isn't even out yet and it's already making money.

Panda Ge ge

Where's my Nano plot bunny?

I am debating whether I should be continuing with Nanowrimo.

No, I am not doubting my ability to write 50,000 words. Last year I wrote 150,000 words in November, and they all actually made sense, with a tight plot and characters and all. The only reason it's not made its way onto FF.net yet is that currently I have three unfinished stories on there and adding another one with the added pressure of actually updating it is not exactly ideal, especially when one of my WIP hasn't been updated in about a year. That, and the fact there were bits that I skipped in Nano09 that I dread going back and filling in.

So, anyway, I've pretty much proved that with a good idea, I can fulfill all the requirements of Nano - that is write at least 50k words that is a novel.

The key words being with a good idea. Which, this year, I do not have.

I spent 200 words describing snow earlier today and then wrote a very useless conversation that is pure fluff and padding. When I normally write fanfic, and start going off into random conversations that have nothing to do with the plot (or, in this case, for lack of one), it is a sign that I should stop writing and take a beat.

In my normal stories when this happens, it's not that big of a disaster because there is still some semblance of a plot which will eventually get me back on track. The problem with Nano'10, then, is there is no track.

So, so far, I'm not really getting anywhere. I keep changing my mind about where this is going.

And I'm not sure I want to spend November writing complete crap that will be going straight to the Trash come December, that doesn't make sense and have no business showing its face to the world if it wasn't for Nano.

Yes, I know. That is the point of Nanowrimo. Well, not. It is the point of Nanowrimo when you've never written a novel before and never thought you could. In that case, the accomplishment of having written 50,000 words that connect is huge. Trust me, I felt this when I wrote my first complete long fic. But once you've churned out fanfics that altogether add up to about half a million words, you kind of know you can do it so, honestly, without a decent idea, the thrill of Nano isn't there. It's not Nano itself that lost the appeal, you know. It's the lack of idea that made Nano seem like a trek up Badachu.

So, for now? Let's just say my Nanovel is on hiatus. It might pick up again in the last week, you never now, considering then I'll probably be pretty bored sitting in a hotel lobby waiting for and playing reception to scholarship candidates coming in for their interviews. I know then I'd have stretches of 20 minutes at a time doing absolutely nothing and I might then be bored enough to create a plot bunny.

Writers are scary

It is October 30. What does that mean?

No, it does not mean that Halloween is tomorrow (though that is true, it's not the point of my asking the question). It means that the day after tomorrow, Nanowrimo starts. I'm starting to get that dreading feeling at the pit of my stomach since as of right now, 4:49pm on October 30th, I still don't know what my Nanowrimo will be about. It's not unlike the feeling that followed me throughout three years of university when I realise the next day I have to hand in a 2000 words essay and I haven't started the research.

Well, maybe not exactly like that. But I still don't know what I will write about. But that's ok, I don't have to do Nano this year. But I was just strolling around the Nanowrio forum and had a sort of epiphany.

Writers are scary.

This realisation has actually been coming on for a while now. But looking around the Reference Desk forum of Nanowrimo, there are some pretty twisted research that writers do.

All in the name of research, you, as a writer, can ask perfect strangers on the internet to tell you things like how they felt when they were raped, how a wife would kill her husband but set it up as a suicide, whether there are ways to get illegal stuff past airport security, how to hide a body or to create a new identity to hide away from the police. And people will reply to your question with posts that are so detailed that they are practically novels themselves.

I swear if a real criminal ever go onto a writers' forum, he seriously would get some foolproof ideas.

Of course, I myself have at certain times Googled things such as how to kill someone with acupuncture, where to stab someone to kill them as painlessly and quickly as possible, and complications in pregnancies.

You know, on the bus stop near where I lived in Sydney, there used to be an ad from the Ministry of National Defence or something, encouraging people to report suspicious going-ons in their neighbourhoods, with hints like if you see your neighbour do suspicious searches on the internet, you should report them. Considering I did do some of these search while I was still in Sydney, I'm glad no one ever thought to check the internet searches of a random international student. As for the last search on pregnancy, however, when you live at home with parents the last one is not something to Google when there is a chance of someone standing behind you reading over your shoulders.

Today seems like a good day for Nanowrimo...

...but wait, it's not November yet.

Well, I suppose autumn weather has finally showed its face in Hanoi, when calendar autumn is already half gone. For the first time since early last spring, I suppose, I was cold as I opened the window to check the temperature outside since the wind was blowing the trees every which way.

Well, maybe cold isn't really the right word, even for Hanoi standards. Cool is probably more accurate. It was only cold when you've just got out of bed at 7am in the morning after having gone to bed at midnight the night before (I need my 8 hours and this was one short) on a Friday and ten minutes earlier, you were still in bed contemplating the pros and cons of calling in sick when you've just came back from a one-week leave.

But seeing as I am writing this at work, I did manage to drag myself out of bed and get to work.

Still, standing on the bus, it occured to me that today would probably a good day for Nanowrimo. That is, a day of not wanting to go to work, sleeping in, getting up, turning on the computer, staring at computer, doing various other forms of procrastination like cleaning up the closet, reorganising computer folders, checking mail and various other things that may or may not need to be checked on the internet. And I suppose in the middle of all that, some writing would get done.

It's such a perfect Nanowrimo day. The sky is gloomy outside, it's going to rain any moment, it's much warmer inside curled up with a cup of tea.

But it's not November yet. And work awaits. More's the pity.

I wonder if I can still blog in English?

I used to blog. That was back in...what, 2008? Yup, that sounds about right. I don't remember any proper blog entries that exist after uni first year, first semester Accounting exam. Which, for the record, was a disaster. But I l already told that story and you missed it.

Right now, I can't remember off the top of my head why I deleted that blog on Xanga. Could be a combination of things. Considering that blog spanned my last two years of high school and first year of uni, I suppose one good reason could be that I just got sick of myself complaining about IB and school in general. Venting was good. But venting about school exclusively on a blog bored both myself and people unfortunate enough to stumble on said blog.

Considering nowadays I blog (or write entries/diary) all over the place, including but not limited to Facebook notes, DAN, emails to myself, Word documents that eventually end up in the Trash, it suddenly felt like a good idea to have a blog again. Besides, Nano is coming up. This may come in useful as I attempt (or not) to win Nanowrimo again this year.

Will anyone read this? Probably not. Then again, what's new about that? It's not as if anyone ever looks at the Word documents I send to the Trash.

Nowadays, I write those entries mostly in Vietnamese. This is a slightly weird phenomenon because...well, for a variety of reasons. Being the TCK that I am, I think in English, at (most) times find myself expressing myself better in English, and don't consider myself to be as fluent as I should be in Vietnamese (both in writing and speaking). Yes, in case you are going to ask, I am born Vietnamese, live in Vietnam for a large portion of my life, but English schooling and nurture does do a lot to affect your language instincts.

I write 100k-word fanfictions in English but the idea of writing the same in Vietnamese is impossible. And yet lately, I blog in other places in Vietnamese. Well, they are not long entries by any means, but when I start typing, it's Vietnamese that comes out, slightly unconsciously. Is it just because I was posting these entries on a Vietnamese forum? Perhaps.

Whatever the reason, I miss blogging in English.

And here's another sign that I should probably start blogging again. I've been IMing too much, because as I'm writing all this, I find myself missing Yahoo emoticons. I should be able to express myself without them, darn it!