Evening, the Zeroth
Friday, September 3, 2004 23:36:20 -0700
The Transformers is a terrible movie, but holds so much fascination for both of us. Ben's always had a bit of a crush on one of the Autobots. It is much more of a childhood reminiscence for me. Why else would we watch it?
Right, Ben is trying to write a novel, that's why.
Ben is trying to write a novel in three days.
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Midnight, the First:
Saturday, September 4, 2004 00:01:20 -0700
The laptop makes its first appearance during the movie. Clickey clickey, typey typey, kissy kissy, typey typey. Every third word involves kisses, or tickles, or commenting on the terrible cartoon-movie before us.
False starts. Zombies, chickens, kisses. Select-All, Delete.
More false starts: Mary White and the Seven Yiddish Yams. Select-All, Delete.
When the movie ended, he had a page and a half. Not bad for an hour and a half really. I think he might even keep it.
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Breakfast, the First
Saturday, September 4, 2004 11:08:50 -0700
We arrived at brunch with Natasha a half hour late. Cheese, fruit, arguments about how to make croissants. She didn't sleep well last night. The excitement is starting to get to her. One hundred pages in three days. There very very long, exasperating pages.
"I think you should use lots of simple dialog"
"Is simple dialog easy to write?"
"Yes, and it takes a lot of space on the page."
"Ooh, I should use some simple dialog."
"Yes, simple dialog is good, so it expository prose"
"I did that. There's lots of description of the school, the appartment, and the job"
"Good good."
"You think that's good then?"
"Yes."
"Me too."
Note: I hate small children, and elevator music.
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Afternoon The First, or What Happens After Two Hours in a Coffee Shoppe
Saturday, September 4, 2004 14:13:27 -0700
Ben leads with 15 Pages (4041 words), to Natasha's 12 Pages (3000 words).
Two cups of coffee, a trip to the parking meter, and tonnes of elevator music. I'm begining to wonder if I'm going to loose my mind. When the batteries on the iPod and laptop run out, I'm leaving to recharge them for a few hours. I just can't take it much longer.
Procrastinating Rythym, You've Got Me on The Go: Ben's been tapping his foot. Natasha has found an open wireless network. There's lots of typing, but I don't think there are many new words on the pages.
NOTE TO SELF: find a metaphor for writing and driving down the road, or symbolism for a car eating up the road and words appearing on the page.
TYPEY TYPEY TYPEY.
Kiss kiss kiss.
If I have another cup of coffee, I might just explode.
I want more of a charge for the iPod. How much longer will it hold out? How much longer will I hold out? That might be the important question. Watching people write a novel in three days isn't nearly as exciting as I thought it would be. In fact, if it wasn't for the really terrible, inescapable music blaring over head, I'd be bored to the point of tears.
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Saturday, September 4, 2004 14:11:12 -0700
No Doubt -- The only song by No Doubt that I can reckognize -- Blaring
More coffee? Icky, I'll be jittery for a long time. That doesn't seem right to me. Jittery Me! Woot.
"Don't Speak, Don't Speak, Don't Speak"
In the background, behind my, there is a lovely old couple
"It's so nice to see you two... out."
looking at the three of us with our laptops.
Fred: "Do you want a laptop"
Ethel: "I don' know what I'd do with a laptop"
Fred: "You'd type away on it like those young kids are doing"
Ethel: "There too expensive."
Fred: "We can afford it"
Ethel: "What would I type? I don't have anything to type"
Fred: "You used to type at work. You could do that again."
Ethel: "You just don't understand me."
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Third Cup of Coffee, Jittery, Cold
Saturday, September 4, 2004 15:09:11 -0700
"...Think About Loving Me..."
Shoot me. Shoot the Speakers. I don't really care which. The iPod is almost dead. I'm going to loose it with the terrible music.
Ben is still in the lead with 18 pages, but Natasha is slowly gaining ground at 16. I, however, and bored. Ben, however, is kissy.
"...Whoa-ah Yea-ah..."
More generic soft rock blares. I'll soon loose my mind.
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So Much Coffee, So Little Time
- Natasha's Crack Tower Appartment -
Saturday, September 4, 2004 18:09:32 -0700
Symphony No. 40 by W. A. Mozart, first movement
We've finally left the up-and-down music of the coffee shop for the the apartment amidst the plethora of crack monkeys and cat hair.
Natasha wants Ben to write her story for her. The main character will simply pull off her face to reveal the inner workings of her robot head. Things will take a turn for the different.
Ben is still winning. The ghost is straight/metro, but the zombie is a gay boy. I think they should have some hot ghost-on-zombie hoochie, but I'm not the one writing the story. I also think there should be a space alien for the bad guy, who shoots spaghetti out of his gun instead of bullets.
"Oh crap, wrong gun. Sorry dude, lemme get the death ray. I'll be right back."