Shame!

I've come to realise over the passing months that my personal life has taken up more and more blogging space up here on Twitchy Notes, to the point of nearly eliminating all writing news. This wasn't my original intent at all. My mission statement in creating TN was to be able to give regular writing updates and post rants on every fan-related subject I deemed mentionable.

Over the past months, it seems my personal life became as much of a drama (to me, at least) as the stories I write, so I considered that they were worthy of being posted, considering they're probably as insane as whatever I might summon with my mere imagination.

But with winter came a little bit of depression. Things aren't moving as I wished they were, my friends are getting divided by their schedules and maturation (or lack thereof). The only thing that keeps us all together are our old habits, our past friendships and the promise of parties that won't happen. Frankly, it's all rather depressing.

Until I become certain that either things will return to how they once were (sadly doubtful) or take a turn for the better after the stumble (hopefully), I will keep to myself on the matter.

As such, I intend to post less about my life and more about my true love: writing. ;)

That said, I must admit that after the amazing success of Only in Hyrule, I'm uncertain. I don't know how I could possibly expect to surpass OiH, so I vowed not to worry about it.

The thing is, I'm at that phase between stories that I call the "What Now Phase", where I sit back and contemplate. I hate this phase because it doesn't involve actual writing. It involves manic self-inflicted mental torture to answer this ultimate question: "What now?" As in, "What do I write about now? What characters should I focus on? Where should they be set? Do I write an original fiction for once? Should I stick to AUs? Should I practice with oneshots or write a multi-chap?"

What now?

This phase also involves a lot of trial and error. It involves writing stuff that I know will never reach an end. It involves a lot of scrapping, a lot of revision, and mostly, it involves getting entangled in more mental threads than one is typically able to handle at once. It involves writing excellent story beginnings and struggling to figure out where they're going. Trying questions along the lines of, "Okay, this is good, but where is this headed?" are not rare. They're only too common.

More often than not, it's where all my energy is wasted. It's tiring and frustrating.

Example:

“I heard you were getting engaged.”

His voice was soft but it carried well in the still, thick air of her study. The moment his words reached her ear, she had trouble breathing, and already dust started gathering on the page she was holding.

The light that hit her obliquely from the small window wasn’t warm, and it hardly brightened up the dark, dusty room. When he’d opened the door, a bright sliver of light had illuminated the floor.

She didn’t turn to look at him, but she could guess his thin, muscular frame in the doorway, and the muffled padding of his boots on the creaking wood floor as he took careful steps in her direction.

His voice seemed hoarse, uncertain. “Rumours are spreading fast. I heard…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but she could guess what he wanted to say.

There was a pregnant pause and she dreaded breaking it, but inevitability and his new silence gave her no choice.

NOW WHAT?

It's frustrating, isn't it?

How about this one:

“Can’t believe this.”

Link said nothing, leaning against the car, staring into the void. Zelda was, in a fit of rage, ripping up the map. Sheik, of course, was shaking his head in acceptance, shoulders high, lips pressed firmly together after uttering that single sentence. Malon was still seated in the back, a sigh on her lips and eyes drooping in exhaustion.

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Did he give us the wrong directions?” Zelda hysterically asked, looking murderous. “Did. He. Give. Us. The. Wrong. Fucking. Directions??”

“In light of our situation,” Link mumbled, “I’d have to say… yes.”

“I can’t believe he gave us the wrong fucking directions!!”

“Well,” Sheik said, his air still looking like he was accepting the evidence, “I’m getting around to it…”

“BASTARD!”

Malon, in the car, jumped a mile high. Sheik turned to Zelda with a hurt look. “But… Zelda…”

“Not you,” Zelda sighed, looking up and down the road. “I was talking about that jerk.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Sheik breathed. He turned to Link, who had walked a ways down the road to look around.

“Yo, Link,” he called, “what’re you doing?”

“Looking for a gas station, dare I hope?” Zelda mumbled, glancing down at the gasoline meter, which read a near empty tank. “We’re pretty much out.”

“And in the middle of nowhere.”

“With a faulty map.”

“Without food.”

“And no sleeping arrangements,” Malon observed, looking up at the darkening sky.

Sheik huffed. “Figures.”

Link, who had, until then, been relatively quiet, turned back to them. “I think we’re lost guys,” he commented wryly. “So before we think of a solution, let’s make an inventory of what we have.”

“A dried-up car,” Zelda mumbled. “A ripped up map, empty soda cans, leftover chips and some apples and water. And,” she glanced at their surroundings, “a lot of wood.”

In the fading light, the forest on either side of the road was growing dark and ominous. Link nearly shuddered as wind rustled through the thousand leaves and whispered to him loudly. He stepped back towards the group. “I think we ought to not panic,” he said. “Maybe we should just push the car on the side of the road and keep cool. We should… I dunno, wait for people to pass us by and ask for help.”

Zelda looked up and down the deserted road with a shiver. “Maybe we shouldn’t count on people too much.”

Sheik smirked. He stretched his arms high above his head, leaning against the car and shoving his hands in his pockets with a smile. “People, this is going to be the time of our lives.”

“I really hope you’re sarcastic,” Zelda sighed. “You can’t possibly enjoy the situation. We’re going to starve if no one stops for us.”

“Think of it this way: we won’t die. Nothing here can possibly kill us. One day,” Sheik declared with supreme confidence, “when we’ll have found steady and boring jobs, with a couple of kids each to rub sunscreen on in the middle of the afternoon and little suburb homes with eight-year old cars and cable TV and a barbecue, we’ll all look back on this and laugh.”

“And wonder why we were so dumb.”

“I can’t believe he gave us the wrong fucking directions,” Zelda repeated. “I can’t believe it. What the hell did we do to him?”

“Maybe if you and Link hadn’t antagonized him,” Malon smiled, “we wouldn’t be stranded.”

At that, both Link and Zelda flushed deep red. “We didn’t antagonize him!”

Sheik sighed, running a hand through his long hair. “The guy was hitting on you, Zeldie. Face it. If you hadn’t shoved him off and taken the time to figure who he was—”

“Look, since when do gas station owners hit on their customers?” Zelda exclaimed defensively. “I hate greasy guys. Besides, I didn’t ask anything from him.”

“No, but he saw you talking to Link and figured he was your boyfriend—”

“Did not.”

“Did too,” Sheik snapped. “Face it, guys, the man thought he could get on vengeance on both his victim, her boyfriend and their friends! Give him any reason not to fuck with our directions. It was too easy. Link didn’t realize he was being told lies, took down this random route—and here we are!”

“In the middle of nowhere,” Link sighed.

“We’re screwed,” Malon whimpered.

“No, we’re not. We just have to—” Sheik was interrupted by a loud, distant howl. He shuddered.

“Was that a wolf?” Malon’s voice was squeaky.

“No.” Sheik shook his head stubbornly. “No, it wasn’t.”

Get my drift? What now??

On the upside, I have managed to advance a few more stories. Two, to be more precise. A oneshot and a multi-chaptered story. The oneshot is closer to the original OoT world than anything, with a mention here and there of TP characters, but not enough to warrant a spoiler warning or whatever. It's coming along slowly, very slowly, but at least I know, generally, where I want it to go. The execution of it is frankly elusive, but at least I have an idea of where it's supposed to be headed.

The multi-chaptered story, on its part, will be shorter than OiH, for various reasons. Mainly, I don't have a plot-related reason to make it longer than ten chapters (at most), and also, I don't want a commitment as big as OiH for a while. The setting is still a secret, but it's AU. Characters from TP will also play roles in the story, so I'll probably wait a while for a majority of people to have played it. This story involves research (geeky, but it's one of my favourite parts) on the setting I chose, and it allows me to look for fun expressions and language turns, so it should be an interesting noir style. Whoops, so many clues! I'll shut up now!

The thing is, with my brain the way it is ―half-frozen by winter (augh!) and completely confused by its own thought patterns― it's unlikely either story will be ready before a long, long time.

I don't feel bad for this. There are other rising authors in the LoZ fanfiction section that are worth a look and a read, so it's not like the whole section depends on my stories or anything. I would rather take my time and write something worthwhile than post half-assed chapters just to keep popularity alive.

Speaking of which, thank you once again, everyone, for a whooping 721 reviews in OiH! Keep the joy coming, it makes me giddy like a moron everytime! Maybe one day I'll post a picture on me going "eeeheeeheeee!" as I read my automated review alerts, while shaking my fists in joy and going cross-eyed with glee.

Or maybe not, now that I think about it.

Anyway, thanks-a-plenty! If I got a penny for every gleeful giggle you provide me with, I'd be rich enough to buy my own jet...

"Giggle!"

PLINK!

"... Mom, look! Another penny fell out of my nose!"

Well now, I'll stop this post, because if there's a single rule to follow in writing, as the wise old Writing Ninja once said, it's that 'When one begins writing onomatopea and one-liner scripts, one must cease writing altogether until one's mind is back to its usual rested state.'

And you don't disobey the Writing Ninja unless you want a pencil planted in your eye socket.

Also, I want to head upstairs and immerse myself in a very loud playthrough of the Return of the King, because I just don't know every line of the battle for Pelenor fields by heart yet, and that's a travesty, as I'm sure you'll attest.

"What, CM? You won't be writing?"

Nope. I shall listen to the Writing Ninja.

;p

Love,

CM