Well, I’ve gotten another chapter of The Pack up, but I don’t know when the next one will be. My classes are promising to be difficult and time consuming. Today I spent three hours alone on a translation of Catullus and it still came out sounding like it was written by a demonic two-year-old, something I’m sure Mr.Catullus would not be too pleased about (of course, what’s he going to do about it? Mwahahah). Classical Rhetoric- also brutal. Let’s not even talk about Statistics- which hath been nicknamed ‘Sadistics.’

Suffice to say, my plate is very full. And I have no appetite.

It’s very frustrating to be so close to the end, to be able to see it, but be unable to get there because the real world keeps rearing its ugly head.

I also hate you, Real World!

Sorry it’s taken my ass so long to get the latest chapter up. I promise that the next one won’t take nearly as long. I’d like to claim some really good excuse, but I don’t really have any. I guess I could lie.

I didn’t update earlier because...I was attacked by a band of gypsies, who kidnaped me. They were going to sell me into slavery but their handsome and roguish leader fell in love with me and they made me their queen. Though my heart was breaking because I’d come to love the wild life of the Kansan gypsy, I stole away in the dead of night. Raven (the gypsy king) caught me, but when I’d explained that I had to get away because I had to update my story because two or three people were counting on me, he let me go, tears in his beautiful dark eyes.

What? You don’t believe me?!

Well, believe me when I say the next chapter will be up soon.

[Side bar: Why is it called ‘kidnaping’ anyway?]

It's my birthday today.  I am a distinguished twenty years old.  Um....yay?  I still can't buy alcohol.  Not that I particularly want to. It's just the principle of the thing.

No, the thing that has been weighing on my mind is: Does this mean I have to start acting like an adult?  'Cause screw that.  I still remain skeptical that the joys of adulthood- sex (which I'm not getting) and alcohol purchasing (which I still can't do) outweigh the responsibilities- taking care of mind-numbing, soul-killing bullshit (which I seem to have to do quite a bit) and paying taxes (which I also do).  What moron worked out this trade?! Because I’d really like to give them a piece of my mind, a rather sizable chunk in fact.

Writing news: I’m thinking maybe there are fourish more chapters of The Pack and then I’ll finally be done with that piece of shit.  I’m about half way done with chapter 29.  I hope to get it posted by this weekend- cross your fingers.

I’m thinking my next project will be a short(er) story (novella?).  It’ll be romance but not your typical run-of-the-mill Harlequin.  So no heaving bosoms or throbbing members. Sorry to disappoint. It’ll have more of fantasy setting.  No magic though.  Basically a historical novel of in a country that doesn’t actually exist.   

Posted a new chapter of The Pack.  I had it finished a while ago and had been waiting to get it back from my beta.  Only I haven’t heard from her in a while, which is extremely unusual, so I went ahead and posted with just myself proofreading.  Which always makes for a lot of errors.  *sigh*  I have the next chapter done, but I’m really hoping I won’t have to rely on my own proofing skills for it.  It occurs to me that she could be dead and I would never know about it; I’d just know that she’d quit writing.  And here I’m all annoyed I’m not getting my chapters back and she’s, you know, dead.  That would suck. 

And now for something completely different: 

My New Year’s resolution is to finish and revise The Pack.  Or at least finish, I don’t think it’s really worth the effort of revising.  First novels always suck. 

My second resolution is to write another novel, as of yet undecided about what. I was kind of thinking about doing something historical- get away from the fantasy/supernatural stuff I always write.

No wonder kids are so messed up these days.  It’s not the drugs, the permissive culture, the absent parents- it the English books.  No, no, hear me out- I was thinking about it the other day and the vast majority of books I ever read for school were about or had a lot of death. 

Let me illustrate:

4th Grade

Bridge to Tarabithia (that protagonist's friend dies young in a cruel twist of fate.)

5th grade

My Brother Sam is Dead (I think the title speaks for itself)

Hatchet (just creepy)

6th grade

I can’t actually remember any of the books from this year- I’ve probably blocked them out as a survival mechanism

7th grade

To Build a Fire (short story where the guy can’t and dies)

The Outsiders (can’t remember the ending, but there’s definitely a murder)

8th grade

The Wave (no actually death, but it’s about how we’re all Nazis inside, so I think it counts)

9th grade

Lord of the Flies (now there’s a cheerful look at kids)

Romeo & Juliet

Great Expectations (okay, not much death, but the book made me want to open a vein, so it’s on the list)

To Kill A Mockingbird (actually pretty up-beat, but does have a death due to racism which makes it even more depressing)

10th grade

Julius Caesar

Othello (Willy did write some comedies, you know)

11th grade

The Scarlet Letter

The Crucible (Witch trial anyone? Anyone?)

The Grapes of Wrath (just about the general suckiness of life and that last scene is burned on my mind forever.)

The Great Gatsby (wasn't so great, also dies) 

12th grade

We had a big poety unit and it included such creepiness as:

My Last Duchess (implies narrator killed wife)

Porphyria’s Lover (get this: the narrator’s lover comes in and rest her head on his shoulder, he strangles her with her own hair for no reason.)

Kafka’s Metamorphoses- on the list for creepiness even though I can’t remember who dies

The Death of Ivan Ilyich (pretty sure Ivan is the one who kicks it)

No wonder kids are killing off their peers and themselves.  These books are enough to make anyone commit a double murder/suicide.

Of course I’m assuming that because I read these books my peers did too.  Which I don’t think they did.  Which kind of negates my whole theory.  Oh well.  It is interesting how macabre English teachers are, though. Frustrated with their salaries much?

Merry Christmas!  This is actually a little ironic coming from me, on account of my being an atheist, more or less.  I’m a bad atheist. Not because atheists are bad, but because I’m bad at it.  I never had much in the way of convictions and now find myself having as many crises of disbelief as I did of belief back when I was an Episcopalian.  I’ll be walking along the street only to be struck with the panicked thought “What if They are right?  What if there is a God? Because that means I’m completely fucked- this God dude is not a nice guy.”  I get over it.  But still it was an unnerving thought. I actually feel guilty that I no more ‘faithful’ to atheism than Christianity.  Please understand I was a terrible Christian: I thought church was boring, I questioned doctrines (a BIG no-no), I thought the priests were full of shit, and the Bible wasn’t literally true.  In short, I was the worst kind of believer. 

So it may seem a bit facetious for me to wish you a merry Christmas, but I assure you I am in all seriousness.  There is a lot of belly-aching about how Christmas has been commercialized and is no longer about the birth of Christ, and I think to a certain extent that’s true, but I consider it a good thing. There is no universal holiday of good cheer and fellowship, but Christmas comes closest to fitting the bill.  So if it’s come to represent more than the birth of some poor kid from Bethlehem- so what.  Its intentions are good and people need a reason to celebrate, give useless gifts and eat candy canes. Thank you, Christmas. And merry Christmas everybody else.