Seriously though, I'm pretty tired dudes. I have a USB flatbed scanner that doesn't want to do anything when I plug it into my macbook. What should I do!
Seriously though, I'm pretty tired dudes. I have a USB flatbed scanner that doesn't want to do anything when I plug it into my macbook. What should I do!
You can't just italicise a punctuation mark alone. It goes against the laws of science!
(Can't help, sorry).
Also, I'm planning to set up a modified version of Humans vs. Zombies at my uni. This could either be fun or a really bad idea.
This is probably just exacerbated by it being close to the end of the quarter and it is goddamn beautiful outside on a daily basis.
Also I'm starting to get the "summer feeling"
Does anybody else know what I'm talking about?
I also get "fall feelings"...like specific seasons put me in a specific mood, I view the world in a certain way, certain things catch my attention...I feel especially overjoyed to partake in certain things of that season, and it makes me feel all very warm and fuzzy on the insides
well, I usually go "huh that sounds reasonable enough to send" then I hit send and I read it over and I go "wellllllllllll... At least its consistant" and then I keep doing it
also I ran into the curator of a gallery here and I showed him my zombie painting and it's going to be exhibited in a science fiction show later this month. hooray!
I was also told that I was telling, not showing, which is advice I always think I understand, but probably don't.
This is the "draw from life" of writing critique.
Yeah, yeah. So then I go and read up about what 'showing' is, compared to, say, 'telling' and I'm like... that's what I'm doing.
You're all She walked into the room, afraid someone would catch her.
And they're all Show, don't tell.
So then you're all She closed the door as softly as she could manage, lips tight in silent prayer, hoping the hinges wouldn't squeak. When the wedge of light finally slipped from the dim room she exhaled, a puff of hot breathe obscuring her reflection in the glass.
I was also told that I was telling, not showing, which is advice I always think I understand, but probably don't.
This is the "draw from life" of writing critique.
Yeah, yeah. So then I go and read up about what 'showing' is, compared to, say, 'telling' and I'm like... that's what I'm doing.
You're all She walked into the room, afraid someone would catch her.
And they're all Show, don't tell.
So then you're all She closed the door as softly as she could manage, lips tight in silent prayer, hoping the hinges wouldn't squeak. When the wedge of light finally slipped from the dim room she exhaled, a puff of hot breathe obscuring her reflection in the glass.
And they're all Show, don't tell.
And you're all
edit: oh yay for you Orik
thanks!
also that would be she closed the door as softly as she could manage, knuckles tight on the knob, easing the hinges along, squeaking as little as possible. When the wedge of light finally slipped from the dim room she exhaled, a puff of hot breath obscuring her reflection in the glass.
It's a fine difference, but it is the absolute difference in good writing. I imagine it's the same feeling as when people keep telling me about values in the stuff I draw. I'm like "Look, there's some whites, and some grays, and some black! What the fuck."
She got up slowly and swayed towards me in a tight black dress that didn't reflect any light. She had long thighs and she walked with a certain something I hadn't often seen in bookstores. She was an ash blonde with greenish eyes, beaded lashes, hair waved smoothly back from ears in which large jet buttons glittered. Her fingernails were silvered. In spite of her get-up she looked as if she would have a hall bedroom accent.
She approached me with enough sex appeal to stampede a businessmen's lunch and titled her head to finger a stray, but not very stray, tendril of softly glowing hair. Her smile was tenative, but could be persuaded to be nice.
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Seriously though, I'm pretty tired dudes. I have a USB flatbed scanner that doesn't want to do anything when I plug it into my macbook. What should I do!
You can't just italicise a punctuation mark alone. It goes against the laws of science!
(Can't help, sorry).
Also, I'm planning to set up a modified version of Humans vs. Zombies at my uni. This could either be fun or a really bad idea.
But yes okay I'll try that.
e for clarity: Morgan Freeman would make a much better driver.
This is probably just exacerbated by it being close to the end of the quarter and it is goddamn beautiful outside on a daily basis.
Also I'm starting to get the "summer feeling"
Does anybody else know what I'm talking about?
I also get "fall feelings"...like specific seasons put me in a specific mood, I view the world in a certain way, certain things catch my attention...I feel especially overjoyed to partake in certain things of that season, and it makes me feel all very warm and fuzzy on the insides
A sexy phenomenon.
As seen in this documentary:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngBNklagsHQ
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Love this one!
Just kidding, you've improved a lot, and the rest I choose to interpret as modern rap music.
"And a hit a send reply button in the hood!" etc.
Bonjour AC, ca'va?
PERFUME
CREME'DE'LE'CREME
POWDERED WIG
WEE WEE
SNAILS
ELABORATE CHANDELIERS
SAYONARA
KYOTO
etc etc
This is the "draw from life" of writing critique.
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Edit: Orik, if you charge a lot of money, like you don't care... like you got a lot of jobs lined up... they'll gladly pay it!
also I ran into the curator of a gallery here and I showed him my zombie painting and it's going to be exhibited in a science fiction show later this month. hooray!
Yeah, yeah. So then I go and read up about what 'showing' is, compared to, say, 'telling' and I'm like... that's what I'm doing.
You're all She walked into the room, afraid someone would catch her.
And they're all Show, don't tell.
So then you're all She closed the door as softly as she could manage, lips tight in silent prayer, hoping the hinges wouldn't squeak. When the wedge of light finally slipped from the dim room she exhaled, a puff of hot breathe obscuring her reflection in the glass.
And they're all Show, don't tell.
And you're all
edit: oh yay for you Orik
Tumblr blargh
thanks!
also that would be she closed the door as softly as she could manage, knuckles tight on the knob, easing the hinges along, squeaking as little as possible. When the wedge of light finally slipped from the dim room she exhaled, a puff of hot breath obscuring her reflection in the glass.
It's a fine difference, but it is the absolute difference in good writing. I imagine it's the same feeling as when people keep telling me about values in the stuff I draw. I'm like "Look, there's some whites, and some grays, and some black! What the fuck."
I just thought I'd point that out.
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He's even better than me at Shut the fuck up, Rob.
:P
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQtGZKdW0Xc
She approached me with enough sex appeal to stampede a businessmen's lunch and titled her head to finger a stray, but not very stray, tendril of softly glowing hair. Her smile was tenative, but could be persuaded to be nice.