Dundundundananadundundundanana….

Do you think I ought to put the characters’ thoughts in italics or not?
Maybe I ought to leave that to philosophers. Or editors.
Personally I think they ruin the moment sometimes.

In other news, my writer’s block is slowly thawing (it was a block of ice, you see), which means I’m feeling less like a marsh wiggle and more like myself again. I finally managed to get through one part that was bothering me a lot, by tricking myself into outlining. I had a surperstition about outlining, which is that: Every story I’ve ever tried to outline ends up screeching to a halt shortly after the outlining.
We shall see if the superstition still holds true.
I really really hope not.
It wasn’t really an outline though, it was more like notes concerning certain main threads, and of course I goofed off a bit just to entertain my bored writer brain, and to scare off the screeching-to-a-halt part. Like thowing salt over your left shoulder… which normally only results in the dog running up to lick the floor behind you… But never mind.

Also I learned a new poem, and I can stop reading Mythology, and I’m going to be taking a hunter safety course so I can go hunting with Dad soon. Yay!! Actually, on our way home from camp, we stopped in these woods that Dad used to hunt in, and we pretended to hunt. Well, Dad had a gun and a hunting license, so he was actually hunting, but I was really just pretending, and really really trying to keep still even though a fly was trying to eat my flesh.
Dad: “So, do you think you could handle doing this for hours?”
Me: “An hour?”
Dad: “Hours.”
Me: “But Dad… a fly is trying to eat my flesh!!”
Dad: “It’s only a deerfly.”
Me: “Well it’s trying to eat me!! I’m not a deer! But it wants my flesh!” (pause) “Ow, it bit me!”
Without the fly, I could be fine though.

As we tromped through underbrush, a really bad smell came up, and I turned to my right to see a dead cow lying right next to our path. It had been dead a while, since it looked mostly picked clean, except some skin/hair, and bones of course. It was really unnerving to see a dead cow. I mean, a dead deer you might expect to stumble upon, and I have (quite literally– eurghh). But a dead cow. You’re completely unprepared for that when the woods you’re used to are the Metroparks. Sometimes I feel so urban. I see cows on milk cartons, but just about nowhere else.
Anyway. The dead cow. Ugh. But five seconds later we startled a live deer and watched it spring away. So, you know, circle of life blahblahblah. Food for crows. I love crows.

It was fun, also, pretending to be Katniss, stalking prey. We were actually in what would be the tip of District 12, though not the Seam itself. I asked Dad if it was really possible to shoot squirrells in the eye to kill them, and he said yes of course, that’s the best way to get all the meat; so I said can you do it with a bow and arrow and he laughed and said, yes, if you’re unnaturally lucky.
Drat.

I did have a bit of luck this weekend, though: I found the remains (trace evidence, as Dad called it) of the rocket I made and launched last year at camp! Every year at this camp we launch rockets. Last year I won best decoarted for my rocket, “The Mocking Bird”, which had been painted purple and gold and adorned with turkey feathers. Well, I’d launched it and it’d landed so high up in a pine tree that you couldn’t even see it, but this year Dad and I went over to the pine tree thinking the rocket might’ve been knocked down in a storm by now. And there it was, my rocket in all it’s decomposing glory. The tail was pretty mcuh all that was left, but it stil had my name and the date on it, so I was really happy. Then this year’s rocket, “The Bat Wing”, survived without incident.

And there were bats in the cabin Dad and I stayed in. We stayed there on purpose becaue we knew there were bats. They were so cute! I could hear them squeaking and flapping as I fell asleep. Love. Plus I did not get a single mosquito bite. Fly, my pretties, fly!! Mwhahahahahahahaha!!!
I would make the best Wicked Witch of the West, you know.

I think I shall go back to working on my novel now that I’ve gotten some of my randomness out of my system.

Yours till the jelly beans,
Pen

PS The title of the post is me singing the part of the Wizard of Oz when the tornado comes and the mean lady goes by on her bicycle… I really should watch that movie again, I haven’t seen it in ages.

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2 thoughts on “Dundundundananadundundundanana….

  1. crescendocroise

    I am so happy that the writer’s block is history!!! Right after I read this post I was singing the song from the Wizard of Oz throughout the evening! Bug and I were so hiper! HIPER!!!!!
    I can not believe you found your rocket! That is just to funny!

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