I'm in full armour
You can't hurt me
Through the steel
Forget what I was
Forget our deal
I'm in full armour
I'll always heal
Barbed wire around my heart
There it was, to keep you out
Electric fences five miles high
And giant Keep Away signs
Flashing for your lie
I'm in full armour
You can't hurt me
Through the steel
Forget what I was
Forget our deal
I'm in full armour
I'll always heal
Thirteen locks and a riddle, too
There they were, to hinder you
Last solid gateway crypticized
Your compass needle,
Demagnetized
I'm in full armour
You can't hurt me
Through the steel
Forget what I was
Forget our deal
I'm in full armour
I'll always heal
All you can do to me now
Is from a distance
And my armour isn't thin enough
To let your arrows through
Allow me to disgrace your grace
And return the arrow heads
To you
I'm in full armour
You can't hurt me
Through the steel
Forget what I was
Forget our deal
I'm in full armour
I'll always heal
I have no Achilles' heel
Weakness only hardens me
I became a fortress
I forgot how to feel
Walk away when nothing is left of me
I'm in full armour
You can't hurt me
Through the steel
Forget what I was
Forget our deal
I'm in full armour
I'll always heal
I'll always bleed
Saturday, September 26
Thursday, September 24
Lulu, You'll Save Me
Dear friends, no setback will stop me. I'm moving ahead and on from here, and I'm going to eventually reach out to people with what I write. Even if it takes me all my effort and all my time, and all my life even; all that matters to me is to see my hard work and piece of heart in print - in an actual, physical book. And if what is in this story, that means so much to me; ever reaches out to even a single soul who embraces it, a soul that doesn't know who I am or what I do but know me only through the story... then I will have achieved the best thing there is to achieve.
I long for this to happen and you are welcome to follow my process here (for those of you who get bored easily with my rants about publishers and novels, you can always search by labels to get what you want).
I have decided to go forward and once the novel is refitted I will use Print On Demand publisher Lulu.com, the US correspondent to Vulkan.se. A very modern idea that hopefully will appeal to some. The first thing I did was register and read through the different terms of use (it's boring, but remember; if you don't do this you might be in trouble later). Next comes refitting the novel for pocket book size and so on. Lots to do but I don't mind, really. At least I am doing it my way and the way I have decided to go.
Most stuff you'd need is on Lulu.com's free membership, and then if you want you can upgrade yourself towards a given fee. Once the book is done and out I will try to get some sponsorship to do this - it means I would get on Amazon.com and loads of other distribution options. With the free membership you will only be able to order from Lulu's own webshop, but that will have to do, for now.
That's all about writing for now.
I decided to adopt two kittens, insanely pretty. One is striped and the other almost black. At first I was just going to adopt the striped one but then I saw its siblings and it felt heartbreaking to separate them. This way at least they have eachother to play with when I'm not around (cause unfortunately that will happen a few times during the week). And one day when I'm living someplace different than here, they can go outside for the first time (although I'm sure they wouldn't feel very comfortable there!). Can't wait to get them. A bit of the money I'll get to spare after bills being paid, I'll use to get them a climbing tower and some toys.
I also think I'll get them Zorro's old favorite toy that I found at Mum and Dad's a while back...
Enough for now,
POET in the JAR
I long for this to happen and you are welcome to follow my process here (for those of you who get bored easily with my rants about publishers and novels, you can always search by labels to get what you want).
I have decided to go forward and once the novel is refitted I will use Print On Demand publisher Lulu.com, the US correspondent to Vulkan.se. A very modern idea that hopefully will appeal to some. The first thing I did was register and read through the different terms of use (it's boring, but remember; if you don't do this you might be in trouble later). Next comes refitting the novel for pocket book size and so on. Lots to do but I don't mind, really. At least I am doing it my way and the way I have decided to go.
Most stuff you'd need is on Lulu.com's free membership, and then if you want you can upgrade yourself towards a given fee. Once the book is done and out I will try to get some sponsorship to do this - it means I would get on Amazon.com and loads of other distribution options. With the free membership you will only be able to order from Lulu's own webshop, but that will have to do, for now.
That's all about writing for now.
I decided to adopt two kittens, insanely pretty. One is striped and the other almost black. At first I was just going to adopt the striped one but then I saw its siblings and it felt heartbreaking to separate them. This way at least they have eachother to play with when I'm not around (cause unfortunately that will happen a few times during the week). And one day when I'm living someplace different than here, they can go outside for the first time (although I'm sure they wouldn't feel very comfortable there!). Can't wait to get them. A bit of the money I'll get to spare after bills being paid, I'll use to get them a climbing tower and some toys.
I also think I'll get them Zorro's old favorite toy that I found at Mum and Dad's a while back...
Enough for now,
POET in the JAR
Wednesday, September 23
Losing A Limb - Help Me Out
Were you ever curious of my writing?
Did you want to see my novel in print?
Keep reading.
It's like losing a limb. A child. Part of me, of everything that mattered. Of everything, in this dark world, that held any meaning to me.
The more I look into it, the more I find. Suddenly there's information everywhere. Everything says the same. About the agency. About the publisher. About the con man who is supposedly behind both.
I have been fooled, and I have been stupid. As the aspiring writer I am, I believed pretty words, I believed I would be brought to the market, I believed I would be sold.
Today I have found out that the agent I have been represented by for 1,5 years does not exist. The publisher they recommended to me does not exist. The financial risk I shared with said publisher is a scam. Everything I believed in, and held hopes for, the last two years, is crumbling.
I am today not a single step closer towards publication than I was in the beginning of the process. New Years 2007, when I made a query to the agency.
None of this information existed at the time I signed the contract.
I looked the company up back then and found no bad record. My friend aided me in it. It seems their various name changes is the key to keeping "clean records".
Back to square one.
And it's like losing a limb. A child. All my meaning. And, of course, all the time, money, and energy I have poured into this project since it first showed itself.
I need your help to get out of this black hole, and to prove to myself as well as to the world that my writing is good enough, and that I am good enough. I need your help to prove I am not stupid, though I may be very, very naive.
Help me find a serious agent.
Do not trust WL Writer's Literary. Researching it I have found that they have now changed their name to The Literary Agency Group, which is suspicious enough. Furthermore, they are unable to samplify their sales. In the Authors section, no writer is mentioned with full name and there are no references to any novels or retailers selling the novels. In my early days, I believed the agency was small and that it was the explanation.
As I said: very naive.
Do not trust Eloquent Books, AEG Publishing Group (who wow! Just when I looked up their adress had changed their name AGAIN! And is now called Strategic Book Group) or Strategic Book Publishing. Dear child holds many names, they say in Sweden. This child is not dear to me. I will bring this child down with me, if I can.
No serious agent or publisher will ever charge you any fee other than for print costs and connected costs.
Help me bring them down.
Help me find a new agent.
POET in the WIDE AWAKE, EERY, DISAPPOINTED and EMBARRASSED JAR
And yes. That many feelings at once IS possible.
Did you want to see my novel in print?
Keep reading.
It's like losing a limb. A child. Part of me, of everything that mattered. Of everything, in this dark world, that held any meaning to me.
The more I look into it, the more I find. Suddenly there's information everywhere. Everything says the same. About the agency. About the publisher. About the con man who is supposedly behind both.
I have been fooled, and I have been stupid. As the aspiring writer I am, I believed pretty words, I believed I would be brought to the market, I believed I would be sold.
Today I have found out that the agent I have been represented by for 1,5 years does not exist. The publisher they recommended to me does not exist. The financial risk I shared with said publisher is a scam. Everything I believed in, and held hopes for, the last two years, is crumbling.
I am today not a single step closer towards publication than I was in the beginning of the process. New Years 2007, when I made a query to the agency.
None of this information existed at the time I signed the contract.
I looked the company up back then and found no bad record. My friend aided me in it. It seems their various name changes is the key to keeping "clean records".
Back to square one.
And it's like losing a limb. A child. All my meaning. And, of course, all the time, money, and energy I have poured into this project since it first showed itself.
I need your help to get out of this black hole, and to prove to myself as well as to the world that my writing is good enough, and that I am good enough. I need your help to prove I am not stupid, though I may be very, very naive.
Help me find a serious agent.
Do not trust WL Writer's Literary. Researching it I have found that they have now changed their name to The Literary Agency Group, which is suspicious enough. Furthermore, they are unable to samplify their sales. In the Authors section, no writer is mentioned with full name and there are no references to any novels or retailers selling the novels. In my early days, I believed the agency was small and that it was the explanation.
As I said: very naive.
Do not trust Eloquent Books, AEG Publishing Group (who wow! Just when I looked up their adress had changed their name AGAIN! And is now called Strategic Book Group) or Strategic Book Publishing. Dear child holds many names, they say in Sweden. This child is not dear to me. I will bring this child down with me, if I can.
No serious agent or publisher will ever charge you any fee other than for print costs and connected costs.
Help me bring them down.
Help me find a new agent.
POET in the WIDE AWAKE, EERY, DISAPPOINTED and EMBARRASSED JAR
And yes. That many feelings at once IS possible.
Tuesday, September 22
Lucky Writer
Maybe I am, after all, a lucky writer. According to Swedish media today, the publishing houses in this country are being quite difficult towards their employed professional writers. Once again I come to think that writing full-time is a shiny dream, quite far away from where I am now.
But if I didn't fight for it, where would I be now?
If I don't keep that dream in the corner of my eyes, will I ever get as much as an illusion of it?
Probably not.
Considering the poor standards for writers here, I find myself lucky to have been taken in by an American publishing house (Eloquent Books), even if it is a joint venture program (which means I shared the economical risk with the publisher, and is a more unusual type of contract, but also more profitable in the end). Also Eloquent Books have told me this is an on-demand type of contract, meaning the novel in its finished form is stored digitally, and only printed if it's ordered, and then the exact number that was. Brilliant, really. This way we avoid all expensive prints of copies that might end up not selling, and in the end, everyone makes more money, and saves more energy.
A more recent update from Kira, the Art Manager at EB, tells me that the cover art will be designed simultaneously with the text design; which means I will not receive a cover until the text edit is completed. As many of you already know I'm editing myself, and it takes me a certain amount of time; but on the other hand, I am sparked in editing by knowing that as soon as it is fully edited and approved of, the cover will be designed.
Can not wait for this to happen. First of all it will be the first physical, authentic proof of the whole getting published-business - but almost as importantly, it will tell me how someone other than myself would interpret the novel into art. I wonder if it will match up to my expectations. I hope it will, and after looking at the other art coming from EB, I feel rather reassured.
Good thing I emailed the Art Department and got the info I needed, and didn't wait with editing until the cover was assigned, as I had planned - then I would have been waiting forever.
Page 111 was my last milepost. Not too much left!
See you later alligator,
Don't Forget To Write!
POET in the OBSESSIVE WRITER'S JAR
But if I didn't fight for it, where would I be now?
If I don't keep that dream in the corner of my eyes, will I ever get as much as an illusion of it?
Probably not.
Considering the poor standards for writers here, I find myself lucky to have been taken in by an American publishing house (Eloquent Books), even if it is a joint venture program (which means I shared the economical risk with the publisher, and is a more unusual type of contract, but also more profitable in the end). Also Eloquent Books have told me this is an on-demand type of contract, meaning the novel in its finished form is stored digitally, and only printed if it's ordered, and then the exact number that was. Brilliant, really. This way we avoid all expensive prints of copies that might end up not selling, and in the end, everyone makes more money, and saves more energy.
A more recent update from Kira, the Art Manager at EB, tells me that the cover art will be designed simultaneously with the text design; which means I will not receive a cover until the text edit is completed. As many of you already know I'm editing myself, and it takes me a certain amount of time; but on the other hand, I am sparked in editing by knowing that as soon as it is fully edited and approved of, the cover will be designed.
Can not wait for this to happen. First of all it will be the first physical, authentic proof of the whole getting published-business - but almost as importantly, it will tell me how someone other than myself would interpret the novel into art. I wonder if it will match up to my expectations. I hope it will, and after looking at the other art coming from EB, I feel rather reassured.
Good thing I emailed the Art Department and got the info I needed, and didn't wait with editing until the cover was assigned, as I had planned - then I would have been waiting forever.
Page 111 was my last milepost. Not too much left!
See you later alligator,
Don't Forget To Write!
POET in the OBSESSIVE WRITER'S JAR
Sunday, September 20
Even Stephen King Has Typos
Maybe I'm writing so much because this is the poorest month ever. Really, ever. Worse than around Christmas. Worse than January. Worse than all months I had to buy course books that were insanely expensive.
Either way it's good. Seldom has my energy been at such a level, about any project. Basically - I just want the damn thing done already, and the more I do every day, the closer I get. Easy as cake!
Too bad though this energy isn't channeled into any creative writing, just proof-reading. But since I have grown quite brain-washed by now, I even found typos and missing characters in a novel by Stephen King, who I'm sure hires a professional editor. That strangely gives me some comfort - everyone is merely human, and if a mistake should slip me, I don't think it would matter much, on the whole. I hope that's not the thing people would remember after reading, anyway.
Can't wait to get home and add some more numbers to the page count,
POET in the EDITING JAR
Strangely Creative and with Very Suspicious Eyes
Either way it's good. Seldom has my energy been at such a level, about any project. Basically - I just want the damn thing done already, and the more I do every day, the closer I get. Easy as cake!
Too bad though this energy isn't channeled into any creative writing, just proof-reading. But since I have grown quite brain-washed by now, I even found typos and missing characters in a novel by Stephen King, who I'm sure hires a professional editor. That strangely gives me some comfort - everyone is merely human, and if a mistake should slip me, I don't think it would matter much, on the whole. I hope that's not the thing people would remember after reading, anyway.
Can't wait to get home and add some more numbers to the page count,
POET in the EDITING JAR
Strangely Creative and with Very Suspicious Eyes
Friday, September 18
Calculations & Smart Quotes
Did some modest calculations that if I edit in this pace, it'll take me 50 hours to finish the rough first edit. Wow! I better put another piece of charcoal on, as we would say in Swedish (better quicken up). I don't want the first edit to take 50 days if I can only do one hour a day, so... I'll have to do something about it. Today I have no work and so I have a good few hours off where I can edit away, swell. The worst part isn't editing itself, it's rather fun actually; it's that I'm freaking out I'll miss something, that I'll end up with some spelling mistakes or a sentence that sounds fucked up. It's rather difficult to keep all the editing rules in my head on one hand, and decide if a sentence sounds okay on the other. And I'm not even a tenth into the editing manual - there are tons, and tons, of rules I still haven't plowed through, that I still need to look up and learn. Just doing that takes time. Luckily for me most rules can be bent a little bit to fit my purpose, and since the publisher had my manuscript reviewed and they set the tone for me to edit in, the word 'compromise' definitely comes to mind.
Also I'm gonna need to learn how smart quotes work. I read the wikipedia article on it and I'm not much wiser afterwards.
Alright. Some loud My Chemical Romance and a few hours by myself here - I'll get stuff done in a jiffy!
POET in the JAR
Better not think it's impossible
Also I'm gonna need to learn how smart quotes work. I read the wikipedia article on it and I'm not much wiser afterwards.
Alright. Some loud My Chemical Romance and a few hours by myself here - I'll get stuff done in a jiffy!
POET in the JAR
Better not think it's impossible
Tuesday, September 15
Chicago Manual
Suddenly it seems to make sense, suddenly I'm not quite as lost anymore. I thought I didn't have a plan. I thought that I chose away education because of nothing but love, because of a bond I wanted to explore and that kept me swaying on the spot here. And indeed that was part of the reason, and I'm quite glad it was as well; however it was a big decision to make and I had many different arguments. One of them, was the novel.
One year away from any uni, taking jobs as I go and trying to make some sort of existence, I would live in the moment, and spend time working on the novel to get it ready for some kind of publication. Eloquent Books have required through their criticist that the manuscript be edited in accordance with the Chicago Manual of Style - a widely used system for written American English. It'd be hell lot easier to just hire some editor to do the work for me (two pairs of eyes better than one) but with funding, as you know, quite insufficient; I'm forced to do the editing myself. This was rather frustrating until today, when Al got me a wonderful PDF file - the manual itself, scanned and complete at 2600 pages length. Slightly intimidating, perhaps; the sheer size of the thing; but so far it has been a trumendous help. I cannot thank Al enough.
Anyway, it was earlier today that I realized I have spent perhaps too much time doing other things, when I was supposed to use this time off from school and other things to focus, get myself together, and pull this whole deal off. I think that maybe I can do it. I think that when I finally hold that copy in my hand, I will tremble, I'm gonna fucking break down when I think about all the damn work that has been behind it. It's gonna be such a fucking relief. Oh my goodness... it gets only harder and harder to grasp, to actually imagine... but I have to.
I kept writing, when no one thought I could pull it off, when people told me to lay off it, that it had no future, that it was never meant to be more than a hobby. I kept at it, and many frustrated times, many drunk times, many high times, many low times, it literally saved me. Getting completely immersed with another universe, letting the words form themselves as you note them down, it's... beautiful. And even if no one reads it, it will have served its purpose. It gave me calm. It salvated me.
And to be honest... this dump? My writing is all I'm good at. My writing is my ticket out of here.
No more messing that up...
POET in the DREAMY JAR
One year away from any uni, taking jobs as I go and trying to make some sort of existence, I would live in the moment, and spend time working on the novel to get it ready for some kind of publication. Eloquent Books have required through their criticist that the manuscript be edited in accordance with the Chicago Manual of Style - a widely used system for written American English. It'd be hell lot easier to just hire some editor to do the work for me (two pairs of eyes better than one) but with funding, as you know, quite insufficient; I'm forced to do the editing myself. This was rather frustrating until today, when Al got me a wonderful PDF file - the manual itself, scanned and complete at 2600 pages length. Slightly intimidating, perhaps; the sheer size of the thing; but so far it has been a trumendous help. I cannot thank Al enough.
Anyway, it was earlier today that I realized I have spent perhaps too much time doing other things, when I was supposed to use this time off from school and other things to focus, get myself together, and pull this whole deal off. I think that maybe I can do it. I think that when I finally hold that copy in my hand, I will tremble, I'm gonna fucking break down when I think about all the damn work that has been behind it. It's gonna be such a fucking relief. Oh my goodness... it gets only harder and harder to grasp, to actually imagine... but I have to.
I kept writing, when no one thought I could pull it off, when people told me to lay off it, that it had no future, that it was never meant to be more than a hobby. I kept at it, and many frustrated times, many drunk times, many high times, many low times, it literally saved me. Getting completely immersed with another universe, letting the words form themselves as you note them down, it's... beautiful. And even if no one reads it, it will have served its purpose. It gave me calm. It salvated me.
And to be honest... this dump? My writing is all I'm good at. My writing is my ticket out of here.
No more messing that up...
POET in the DREAMY JAR
Saturday, September 12
Teddy
I am not meant for this
The shadows streak by my corners
There's a wisp of it, stirring
Stroking my hair
My imaginary monsters
Come play with me
I'll let you be if you
salvate me
I'm not myself here
Where everything chases me
There's a wide grin, staring
Leaving the lair
My imaginary monsters
Come play with me
I'll let you be if you
salvate me
I miss all my memories
All the golden, all the safe
Please stay with me, Teddy
Until I'm stronger again, and ready
My imaginary monsters
Come play with me
I'll let you be if you
salvate me
The shadows streak by my corners
There's a wisp of it, stirring
Stroking my hair
My imaginary monsters
Come play with me
I'll let you be if you
salvate me
I'm not myself here
Where everything chases me
There's a wide grin, staring
Leaving the lair
My imaginary monsters
Come play with me
I'll let you be if you
salvate me
I miss all my memories
All the golden, all the safe
Please stay with me, Teddy
Until I'm stronger again, and ready
My imaginary monsters
Come play with me
I'll let you be if you
salvate me
Issues
Had a crappy day, everything feels like total... bonkers. It started out okay, I guess... worked the morning shift and got there early, had a nice flow until I opened up the store, then it was just busy, busy all day long until 2 PM. God, can't I ever spend some time doing nothing? I just spend my days flipping myself around between tons of errands without really managing... anything. What does it matter, really? Who cares if I don't do my grocery shopping or if I don't fold my clothes neatly enough, who effin' cares?
It's just everything crashing down on me, feels like it's catching up. Money issues, work issues, everything-issues. It's the same old lines, over and over again. "It'll get better next year/next month/next week", "It'll work out, it always works out", "Don't worry"... but I can't just let go of things. I don't know. I was supposed to use this year to flip out and just... float around and create stuff and just enjoy stuff. But what am I doing?
I don't have a fucking clue, I'm so fucking lost, and whatever, just, fuck this whole business, hate it all.
POET in the JAR
It's just everything crashing down on me, feels like it's catching up. Money issues, work issues, everything-issues. It's the same old lines, over and over again. "It'll get better next year/next month/next week", "It'll work out, it always works out", "Don't worry"... but I can't just let go of things. I don't know. I was supposed to use this year to flip out and just... float around and create stuff and just enjoy stuff. But what am I doing?
I don't have a fucking clue, I'm so fucking lost, and whatever, just, fuck this whole business, hate it all.
POET in the JAR
Thursday, September 10
Dear Josephine
Dear Josephine
Did the wings fall off
from your flying machine?
We saw you when you went down
And the light that your comet strew
Dear Josephine
Are you more at ease
than we have been?
It's still empty here, all around
In the shadow since your heart withdrew
Josephine
They took you too early
You weren't ready
Josephine
In your machine,
Your engines died
Oh Josephine,
was it suicide?
Dear Josephine
Did you see the smoke
from your crashing machine?
We never found your black box
Among the debris that you strew
Dear Josephine
Are you in a world
we've never seen?
Maybe you were trapped and locked
While we pondered and our sorrow grew
Josephine
They took you too early
You weren't ready
Josephine
In your machine,
Your engines died
Oh Josephine,
was it suicide?
Dear Josephine
In your flying machine
Dear Josephine
Did the wings fall off
from your flying machine?
We saw you when you went down
And the light that your comet strew
Dear Josephine
Are you more at ease
than we have been?
It's still empty here, all around
In the shadow since your heart withdrew
Josephine
They took you too early
You weren't ready
Josephine
In your machine,
Your engines died
Oh Josephine,
was it suicide?
Dear Josephine
Did you see the smoke
from your crashing machine?
We never found your black box
Among the debris that you strew
Dear Josephine
Are you in a world
we've never seen?
Maybe you were trapped and locked
While we pondered and our sorrow grew
Josephine
They took you too early
You weren't ready
Josephine
In your machine,
Your engines died
Oh Josephine,
was it suicide?
Dear Josephine
In your flying machine
Dear Josephine
You Imagined
I don't need another pretty picture
Stop talking about the northern lights
The sky is only black to me
Whatever you saw shining there
You imagined
I don't need your nuanced songs
I don't need your deep poetry
Or your words
Whatever you thought was mutual
You imagined
Get out of here
Why are you invading me
I don't need all the things
You used to tie me with
You only imagined
I don't need your ties anymore
Take your shining stars
And dream somewhere else
Whatever you cherished in life
You imagined
There's nothing waiting for you
You're not grand or special
You came here by chance
And by accident
I dreamed
And you imagined
Stop talking about the northern lights
The sky is only black to me
Whatever you saw shining there
You imagined
I don't need your nuanced songs
I don't need your deep poetry
Or your words
Whatever you thought was mutual
You imagined
Get out of here
Why are you invading me
I don't need all the things
You used to tie me with
You only imagined
I don't need your ties anymore
Take your shining stars
And dream somewhere else
Whatever you cherished in life
You imagined
There's nothing waiting for you
You're not grand or special
You came here by chance
And by accident
I dreamed
And you imagined
About The Nook & My Novel Universe
I feel like being by myself. Writing. Editing, maybe. Pulling a blanket over my head and sleep for a few weeks, maybe. Sit with my laptop on my balcony, maybe, and write there. Yes.
I've made a strange change for the better (I guess that's what it is) in some ways. Like, since I moved here. I know I seem to move a lot. I'm running out of good nicknames for my various residences. There's always gonna be Myntet (literally: The Coin), Kråkboet (Crow's Nest), Lyan (The Lair) and of course, Landet (The Countryside/The Country). And the place we rejoiced at in Finland will always be The Hostel With The Great View (which was slight irony). So, what do I call this new, strange place, these 25 square meters with an extended balcony? So far it has just gone under the name of Halla - which is short for the name of the street and frankly, not very exciting.
I'm quite tempted to baptize the thing as Mitt Krypin - something that would mean sort of, My Nook. Saying it with the determinative article though sounds strange. Krypinet. Weird. The Nook sounds a lot better!
Anyway, that was a sidetrack. I was talking about my change for the better. Well, that doesn't stretch very far. It contains cooking and doing the dishes daily, washing clothes weekly, and cleaning. To be honest there's not much choice with such a small Krypin. One T-shirt on the floor and it looks like the third world war took place there. I guess I benefit quite a lot from having left most of my stuff scattered neatly across the bedroom floor at Mum and Dad's (on The Countryside).
Now I guess the only thing left to salvate is my restless artist's soul who is fighting to thrive right now.
Tomorrow will be neat. Going to a buddy's place to try out the beta of AION Online (getting out September 25th here). Can't wait! It'll light up my day. And it's going to be nice to have a day off. Seems this week I've been doing nothing but covering for everyone at work calling in sick. (And since you all read my stuff extremely thoroughly you by know now that I'm sick myself.) But hey, who cares? Tomorrow is a long, cozy day off and I'm going to isolate myself the entire weekend (besides the 10 or so hours I'll be working).
And about AION. It feels like someone actually visualized what I've been writing for years. After all my top novel universe is one where angels of different races battle eachother over principles and where a few individuals just want peace. Strange similarity, I say. And perhaps here goes the dream I had to make my novels a great MMORPG one day. Even if our creations had nothing to do with eachother really, I think I would still feel like a copycat. A shame. My novels would be pretty perfect to base a game type like this on. Why?
Well. The novels contain four races of angels, plus the humans, who are wingless. The angels in my universe are simply humans with wings. There's nothing divine about them - more like the opposite. The angel races have old grudges against eachother, and even though there has been innocence for many years, things are starting to stir towards war again.
The four different races are Solar, Sea, Storm and Soil angels (actually I had no intention of them all beginning at S, it just turned out that way).
Solars - able to fly high and close to the sun, hence their race name. They have thin wings that can carry them high on the drafts. They're equipped with double eyelids to protect against UV lighting from the sun and a common characteristic is their whitish, practically blank eyes. The top ability of the solars is their speed in flight.
Seas - equipped with gills to breathe underwater, and made to live half underseas, half on land. In water they are exceptionally elegant and swift, a trait that does not always follow them up into free air. Just as the solars they have double eyelids, the transparent layer of which closes and allows for underwater vision. The Seas are often referred to as Dews, which is a patronizing word that plays on their skills in water. The Sea capital is New Atlantis Havens, hidden under the sea surface and enclosed in a giant dome.
Storms - thick-winged and stubborn, residing in the mountains where they have adapted to foggy terrain. Their draft-resistant wings allows them to fly in very heavy winds. It is rumored that Storms possess the ability to conjure winds, thunder and tornadoes. Storms excel in technology and are the original inventors of the angel chopper, which is used for instance as ambulance transports. Storms often scatter their settlements and one of their most known ones is positioned at the Outer and Inner Isles.
Soils - skilled in herbology and nature, the Soils are the top contributors of medical supplies to help centers. It is said they can affect the very earth and seeds by their green fingers. Since the many farm raids by bandits seeing the value in medical stocks, the Soils have grown suspicious and are very protective about their trade. Soils adapt quite quickly to the environment and creates helpful, curing herbs as well as poisonous ones. The top Soil residence is Chrysant City, which is in the midlands.
See?
Perfect race backgrounds...
I'll be back on the subject,
POET in the JAR
I've made a strange change for the better (I guess that's what it is) in some ways. Like, since I moved here. I know I seem to move a lot. I'm running out of good nicknames for my various residences. There's always gonna be Myntet (literally: The Coin), Kråkboet (Crow's Nest), Lyan (The Lair) and of course, Landet (The Countryside/The Country). And the place we rejoiced at in Finland will always be The Hostel With The Great View (which was slight irony). So, what do I call this new, strange place, these 25 square meters with an extended balcony? So far it has just gone under the name of Halla - which is short for the name of the street and frankly, not very exciting.
I'm quite tempted to baptize the thing as Mitt Krypin - something that would mean sort of, My Nook. Saying it with the determinative article though sounds strange. Krypinet. Weird. The Nook sounds a lot better!
Anyway, that was a sidetrack. I was talking about my change for the better. Well, that doesn't stretch very far. It contains cooking and doing the dishes daily, washing clothes weekly, and cleaning. To be honest there's not much choice with such a small Krypin. One T-shirt on the floor and it looks like the third world war took place there. I guess I benefit quite a lot from having left most of my stuff scattered neatly across the bedroom floor at Mum and Dad's (on The Countryside).
Now I guess the only thing left to salvate is my restless artist's soul who is fighting to thrive right now.
Tomorrow will be neat. Going to a buddy's place to try out the beta of AION Online (getting out September 25th here). Can't wait! It'll light up my day. And it's going to be nice to have a day off. Seems this week I've been doing nothing but covering for everyone at work calling in sick. (And since you all read my stuff extremely thoroughly you by know now that I'm sick myself.) But hey, who cares? Tomorrow is a long, cozy day off and I'm going to isolate myself the entire weekend (besides the 10 or so hours I'll be working).
And about AION. It feels like someone actually visualized what I've been writing for years. After all my top novel universe is one where angels of different races battle eachother over principles and where a few individuals just want peace. Strange similarity, I say. And perhaps here goes the dream I had to make my novels a great MMORPG one day. Even if our creations had nothing to do with eachother really, I think I would still feel like a copycat. A shame. My novels would be pretty perfect to base a game type like this on. Why?
Well. The novels contain four races of angels, plus the humans, who are wingless. The angels in my universe are simply humans with wings. There's nothing divine about them - more like the opposite. The angel races have old grudges against eachother, and even though there has been innocence for many years, things are starting to stir towards war again.
The four different races are Solar, Sea, Storm and Soil angels (actually I had no intention of them all beginning at S, it just turned out that way).
Solars - able to fly high and close to the sun, hence their race name. They have thin wings that can carry them high on the drafts. They're equipped with double eyelids to protect against UV lighting from the sun and a common characteristic is their whitish, practically blank eyes. The top ability of the solars is their speed in flight.
Seas - equipped with gills to breathe underwater, and made to live half underseas, half on land. In water they are exceptionally elegant and swift, a trait that does not always follow them up into free air. Just as the solars they have double eyelids, the transparent layer of which closes and allows for underwater vision. The Seas are often referred to as Dews, which is a patronizing word that plays on their skills in water. The Sea capital is New Atlantis Havens, hidden under the sea surface and enclosed in a giant dome.
Storms - thick-winged and stubborn, residing in the mountains where they have adapted to foggy terrain. Their draft-resistant wings allows them to fly in very heavy winds. It is rumored that Storms possess the ability to conjure winds, thunder and tornadoes. Storms excel in technology and are the original inventors of the angel chopper, which is used for instance as ambulance transports. Storms often scatter their settlements and one of their most known ones is positioned at the Outer and Inner Isles.
Soils - skilled in herbology and nature, the Soils are the top contributors of medical supplies to help centers. It is said they can affect the very earth and seeds by their green fingers. Since the many farm raids by bandits seeing the value in medical stocks, the Soils have grown suspicious and are very protective about their trade. Soils adapt quite quickly to the environment and creates helpful, curing herbs as well as poisonous ones. The top Soil residence is Chrysant City, which is in the midlands.
See?
Perfect race backgrounds...
I'll be back on the subject,
POET in the JAR
Wednesday, September 9
Eery
"Are you sad because of the pain, or because you couldn't go to work?"
"Sad because of the pain... and because it's the last thing I could afford right now. Going to the doctor."
Woke up this morning with an intense ache in my right ear. It seems familiar, seeing I've had infections there before, but I have a hunch that's not what it is, not this time. Not sure what it could be. Feels slightly better now though, after I've slept 13 hours in total and they do say sleep is the best medicine... but it's not going to go away, and it magnifies every sound I hear, and is drilling into my head as if I had a crocheing needle piercing through there. What a portal. I have an appointment at 2.45 at the medical station, crossing fingers they'll help me there.
Feel quite bad though. Lent some money from Rockstar in order to pay the doctor's visit and I know he's low on money just as me. To be honest, I have no fucking clue how to survive until payday. Before this, I might have made it... but every penny wasted now digs a hole in my wallet, and I'm tired. So incredibly tired.
Luckily it's easy to make grand plans for the future even without any means or fundings.
Losing Herself In Dreams,
POET in the JAR
"Sad because of the pain... and because it's the last thing I could afford right now. Going to the doctor."
Woke up this morning with an intense ache in my right ear. It seems familiar, seeing I've had infections there before, but I have a hunch that's not what it is, not this time. Not sure what it could be. Feels slightly better now though, after I've slept 13 hours in total and they do say sleep is the best medicine... but it's not going to go away, and it magnifies every sound I hear, and is drilling into my head as if I had a crocheing needle piercing through there. What a portal. I have an appointment at 2.45 at the medical station, crossing fingers they'll help me there.
Feel quite bad though. Lent some money from Rockstar in order to pay the doctor's visit and I know he's low on money just as me. To be honest, I have no fucking clue how to survive until payday. Before this, I might have made it... but every penny wasted now digs a hole in my wallet, and I'm tired. So incredibly tired.
Luckily it's easy to make grand plans for the future even without any means or fundings.
Losing Herself In Dreams,
POET in the JAR
Saturday, September 5
Year Of Music
It really is like I've stated before, 2009 is the year of music! After getting started on Spotify earlier today, I made a strange rediscovery of one of my favorite bands, Sounds Like Violence. A cover song I'd never heard from them before called Sammy, which is part of a tribute album for Afghan Wigs.
Had a hunch and went to their website. Found out they are releasing a new full-length album called The Devil On Nobel Street this year on November 9th. Amazing! I have been listening to their first albums, one full-length and one demo-like one, since 2006 and I know their every song by heart. Wonderful. And precisely the news I needed!
Other than that, of course POTF are a lot in the spotlight for me considering the meeting back in August. And I'm again listening, and loving their songs. Rockstar has overheard me listening, and before I knew it, I found Locking Up The Sun on a mixed CD he'd made. I'm pretty impressed by me (almost as much as by him). Well, knew he had nice taste, since he spent the week I was away in Finland learning how to play Carnival Of Rust, and we've played and sung that together.
Also only 19 days until finally I get to see Dead By April live. Awesome! Another wonderful Sticky Fingers night, I am sure. One month after that we've got the Swedish rock guys in Takida to look forward to.
Oh, and I almost forgot the song Monster by Itchy Daze, which you can not allow yourself to miss. Stumbled across this band after hearing them on Bandit (I have that radio station to thank for a LOT). Check them out!
POET in the JAR
Well, have to salvate myself with something.
Had a hunch and went to their website. Found out they are releasing a new full-length album called The Devil On Nobel Street this year on November 9th. Amazing! I have been listening to their first albums, one full-length and one demo-like one, since 2006 and I know their every song by heart. Wonderful. And precisely the news I needed!
Other than that, of course POTF are a lot in the spotlight for me considering the meeting back in August. And I'm again listening, and loving their songs. Rockstar has overheard me listening, and before I knew it, I found Locking Up The Sun on a mixed CD he'd made. I'm pretty impressed by me (almost as much as by him). Well, knew he had nice taste, since he spent the week I was away in Finland learning how to play Carnival Of Rust, and we've played and sung that together.
Also only 19 days until finally I get to see Dead By April live. Awesome! Another wonderful Sticky Fingers night, I am sure. One month after that we've got the Swedish rock guys in Takida to look forward to.
Oh, and I almost forgot the song Monster by Itchy Daze, which you can not allow yourself to miss. Stumbled across this band after hearing them on Bandit (I have that radio station to thank for a LOT). Check them out!
POET in the JAR
Well, have to salvate myself with something.
Window
Was it lies that made you come here?
Was it lies that made you stay?
I'm illusions in your eyes,
pretty lights in window panes
Forget the safehouse and hiding place
that my love used to form
I am nothing but a window,
and I'm breaking in the storm
Are you still the lantern,
supposed to lead my way?
I mistook your light a thousand times
and got myself astray
Better handle that flame
with slightly better care
Who knows if I'd be breaking, darling
if you weren't there
Was it lies that made you come here?
Was it lies that made you stay?
I'm illusions in your eyes,
pretty lights in window panes
Forget the safehouse and hiding place
that my love used to form
I am nothing but a window,
and I'm breaking in the storm
Did you break the china
I entrusted in your hands?
I could hear it crashing, darling
My heart was in there
Better handle the next heart
With slightly better care
I hope you're gonna break it, darling
And I won't be there
Was it lies that made you come here?
Was it lies that made you stay?
I'm illusions in your eyes,
pretty lights in window panes
Forget the safehouse and hiding place
that my love used to form
I am nothing but a window,
and I'm breaking in the storm
I'm a glass window
breaking in the storm
Breaking in the
wind
Was it lies that made you stay?
I'm illusions in your eyes,
pretty lights in window panes
Forget the safehouse and hiding place
that my love used to form
I am nothing but a window,
and I'm breaking in the storm
Are you still the lantern,
supposed to lead my way?
I mistook your light a thousand times
and got myself astray
Better handle that flame
with slightly better care
Who knows if I'd be breaking, darling
if you weren't there
Was it lies that made you come here?
Was it lies that made you stay?
I'm illusions in your eyes,
pretty lights in window panes
Forget the safehouse and hiding place
that my love used to form
I am nothing but a window,
and I'm breaking in the storm
Did you break the china
I entrusted in your hands?
I could hear it crashing, darling
My heart was in there
Better handle the next heart
With slightly better care
I hope you're gonna break it, darling
And I won't be there
Was it lies that made you come here?
Was it lies that made you stay?
I'm illusions in your eyes,
pretty lights in window panes
Forget the safehouse and hiding place
that my love used to form
I am nothing but a window,
and I'm breaking in the storm
I'm a glass window
breaking in the storm
Breaking in the
wind
Shiny
I pretend that everything's fine for you
I'm a worked out junkie and a drunkie too
Behind my polished surface
See how shiny it is
See that I'm a liar
And I'm transparent
How can you believe my faint smile
And my promise I'll take care of it all
Can't you see me when I stumble?
Can't you see me when I fall?
With you I want to desert this place
But I always yearn to be alone
And when I'm alone is when I doubt
When I'm alone is when I drown
POET in the JAR
Currently posting as Wolfzeus
And tired of everything
I'm a worked out junkie and a drunkie too
Behind my polished surface
See how shiny it is
See that I'm a liar
And I'm transparent
How can you believe my faint smile
And my promise I'll take care of it all
Can't you see me when I stumble?
Can't you see me when I fall?
With you I want to desert this place
But I always yearn to be alone
And when I'm alone is when I doubt
When I'm alone is when I drown
POET in the JAR
Currently posting as Wolfzeus
And tired of everything
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