Surprise! Life just arrived at the party!

Ok. I want to do something new to the site, but I'm not sure what. I don't know what a website for a writer/artist should look like. Though I do know that I need to put things up. So, after finals, I think the next step will be to upload some art and put it on the site, versus being just on Deviantart, which I hardly ever update. AND new writing--especially some of this stuff that's been coming out of my Creative Writing class, which has actually helped a lot more than I thought it would.

And my friend Rivka has agreed to do some art for The Suits, which makes me REALLY excited. She enjoys the idea of a new Pantheon, and I'm sitting here wondering where the old ones went. Anyway, I've done some sketches for the project, but I'm way more excited for her art. Maybe Riv will become the McKean to my Gaiman...or something. Anyway, it's a great next step, and everyone is excited.

I think I'm going to send out another batch of query letters once I get home too. And I wish that the one still floating around would come home. Whatever. It'll be #7, but until I hit #10 or #15, I'm still going to remain optimistic. I just don't know what I can do to seel the book better. But I'll figure it out.

Finals make me want to cry. This Shakespeare fanfic makes me really want to cry. I don't know what to do. Maybe a conversation over beer with spurrned lovers Richard III (because Anne hated his guts), Macbeth (because his wife was nuts), Malvolio (because he needs to LOOSEN UP), Bertram (because he wants nothing to do with Helena), and Romeo as a late comer--and he gets to be the one everyone hates. Ha. Maybe that is what I shall do. But I need to keep it relatively within Shakespearean language, and I have to use some quotes from the characters where they'll fit in. Whatever. It'll be okay.

Environmental Science may kill me, and I need to finish the final for Middle East so that I can move furniture to storage on Friday.

Iron Man also happens on Friday. And, actually, I expect it to suck. Marvel hasn't done well with films. X-Men 1 & 2 and Spiderman (which is still kinda meh) are just about the only good films they've done. And the Punisher. The Punisher wasn't bad.

Hulk? Sucked. Elektra? UGH. Daredevil? SNORE. Blade? Pretty boring, actually--I'll watch Underworld instead. Fantastic Four? An excuse to get Alba into spandex. X-Men 3? ATROCITY. Ghost Rider? It has Cage in it...it can't be fantastic. Not a good history at any rate. But they may surprise me.

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I hate rap. Why in the hell do I love Punk Goes Crunk so damn much? THIS IS NOT OKAY.

Meep?

I got a seventh rejection letter today. However, this one wasn't even a ltter so much as a note written on my letter. I don't know if I have the right to be annoyed about that or not.

I think the next step is to either start selling Nocturnal Melee as a different genre when I send the letters out (urban fantasy) or go straight to the publishers instead. There's always the option of independent press too, but...I'd just rather not.

I went to a thesis defense today, and was floored by the depth and articulateness in the writing. And the girl already has two agents on the top of it. Amazing. It ALMOST makes me want to write a full-blown memoir. ALMOST. But my life isn't nearly as remarkable. "Confessions of a game-junkie"? No thanks.

The Suits as an official project is off to a damn good start. I'm not sure how I want to style it though, so I don't think it flows as nicely as it could. But I'm up to the part where I think I want to introduce "The Vagrant" who is the God fo Death, and I think he's actually going to end up as comic relief. Weird. He's also very popular among women, and I may play on this...and I may end up adding new gods in the form of ALL of the aces (and potentially all of the face cards, if need be). He's still the Ace of Spades. Death. But a happy, drunkard, partying Death.

I think he's going to be rather fun to write.

Crazy people lead hectic lives.

It's been pretty hectic lately. I dropped my Japanese Media thesis, as it just flopped on every end. I think I'll still write it, but perhaps more as an independent study project than my thesis. Instead, I'm now working on a project called The Suits, which takes "The King of Nothingness" mythos, and turns it into a gradiose, full-fledged mythology. And the gods are based on face cards.

I don't know how it works either, but I'm jumping on the ride anyway.

Let's see. I've finished a painting since the last post, which is based upon some stationary I remember seeing in Powells once.
The poem on it reads:
Can you fit my soul
Into a sheet of paper?
Caged in thin white fury,
and bleeding
Inky whispers of sincerity.

Also, I went to a Gerard Way comic-book signing this week, as the Portland Mayor has deemed April "Comic Book Month," which is pretty much rad. I live in a city that dedicates a month to nerddom. WIN AT LIFE.
For those of you who don't know, Gerard Way wrote a comic called the Umbrella Academy. Oh, and he sings for a little band called My Chemical Romance. Y'know, just to put this in context. BTW: Those roses were for his birthday (which was the next day/yesterday), and were being given to him by the first 24 people in line (I feel special for sitting in line all day).

And the school dance was pretty rad, unless, of course, the music and the VJ are taken into context. Some days, I swear I should drop my English major, and go into deejaying. I'd be much better at it than some of these people. I don't care if he has music videos to accompany the song--I cannot dance to rap for 3 hours straight. *sigh* But watching a group of 50 people flailing around, trying to dance to "Thriller" was fantastic.

Does this mean we're just too young, and wish we weren't? How sad it that?