good movie vs. good movie

A couple of days ago, I saw two movies.
The first one, "The Prince & Me" is just a happy, romantic, dreamy love-story that makes me feel all good and believe in fairytales. And even though I have watched it several times, there were litle details, that I hadn't seen before and that I reall yenjoyed finding. I watched it with my family, so I got all of my fathers comments. From somewhere in the middle, he could tell the story without ever having seen it. Which made me wonder whether the movie really is so good. Even thoguh the camera work and music and all that stuff really fit the atmosphere of the story.
Then, the next day, we watched a movie called "The Brave One", which I had no idea of going in. It's kind of dark, exploring what happens to some people when for example, they are attacked and their boyfriend dies. It really made me think and there was a lot of suspense till right to the end. You always wondered what wa sgoing to happen.

What I really want to say is that both movies were really enjoyable, i had a good time watching both. So if both are really good movies, why does watching "The Prince & Me" feel worth less than the other one? Is it because it doesn't deal with something important or doesn't make you think?

The same applies for books, I guess. There ar ethese feel-good stories, that don't have any philosophical aspect in them. Still, some of them are written really well. And then there are these books, which make you think, some even mak eme sort of depressed for a little while. Are these books worth more?

I mean, as a writer, I get that there should be an underlying message. But isn't "fairytales can still come true" good enough?

I'm a mercurial, notoriously lying, bad person.

I am such a bad person. I swore i would keep up with writing this blog, I swore I would continue editing, unbraiding and rewriting my wip, i swore i would get nothign in the way between me and doing this. And now? Here I am, realising I can't even write regularly.

It wasn't so much my fault really. I couldn't write because my crappy computer didn't work. Once it was fixed, I had to read all my e-mails. And then, the next day, i got ill. Not lie-in-bed-can-do-nothing kind of ill, but I got a really bad headache that wouldn't go away. Ever. I had a really hard time since I couldn't stay away from school for a few days and also had to do all the homework. I'm telling you, I'm really, really, really ready to have holidays.

(Side note: How unfair is that? Every country gets like two whole months of summer break. And what do we get in Germany? 6 weeks. S-I-X lousy weeks! Life sucks. )

And now, one of my friends is in hospital and I go to see her every othe rday, meaning I need to squeeze in all the homework on teh other days.

But since today was the last real school day, next week being a project week, I swear I will write regularly.

Really, I swear.

Pinky Promise. (why is it called Pinky Promise anyways? It is pinky promise, right???)

Something occured to me today. Maybe writing doesn't mean the same for everyone. I mean, sure it doesn't, but how can views differ so much?

I'm doing a creative writing project for my school project week. Now, if there had ever been one when I did it, i would have been the first to sign up, surely. But as it is, I've heard that not many were interested.
And i spoke with the two people I'm planning it with and they have totally different opinions. It's not that we fight over it, but one of them is more into the theoretical stuff, whereas I say. "Just let it flow". not, if you want to do something big. Then, of course you need to revise and go with certain rules and keep a continuity to it and so on. But for a short story for a school project? Just let it go and see where it takes you.

Why is it that so many people can't see how great writing is? Most people like to read, but they'd never dream of writing. I can't empathise seeing as I've been writing as long as I can remember. Of course, just becaus eI like to look at pictures doesn't mean I'd like to paint, but that is because I know I can't. I tried over and over again. Same thign with music. I can play the piano and am currently learnign to play the clarinet, but i can't compose. I can't write music. I tried, but it didn't work out. So why does it feel like there aren't many people that want to try to write?

untangling braids

I discovered something these past days.
The book I have been working on for quite a time now (started writing it in NaNoWriMo), does not work this way. It's like a braid - there are three parts to it, that somehow belong together but that will only stay together because of a rubber band.
Now, the rubber band exists because I wrote it all under much time pressure. It was okay at the tim eto just let it flow. Now, my job is to loose the rubber band.
I'm not saying that the story itself isn't worthy of being told, I just think it should be three seperate parts, not one. So I need to untangle it.

Problem is, though, untangling gets hard with untidy braids. It hurts. And sometimes, a little hair needs to be cut in order to get a nice clean look in the end. And even then, it takes an awful lot of time and persistence to do so. And I don't think I have that time right now. Or the persistence. And thinking thi sway makes me feel like I never will finish the story. Damn it!

writing????

err... yes, this is actually supposed to be a writing blog. Just until now, it doesn't really seem to be. So I thought my quest for the day would be to write about my writing in a way that everyone understands (which really is kind of an impossible quest)

I'v ealways been writing. I can't say when it started, though I do remember the first story I wrote for the pleasure of writing (I was six at the time and let me tell you, it was horrible!). And I guess, it can't have started much earlier than that, seeing I learned to write when I was five. Unless you want to talk storytelling, whihc is a whol edifferent story...
'Till I was about 10, all of my written work was very much based on the books, films and TV series i liked at the time, it wasn't really fanfiction, I'd just take themes and rework them. I was very proud of my work, but sometimes, I'd get really annoyed with it, seeing how it was stolen. That lead to the complete delete of some of my work, which I will regret til the end of my life. Not that they were fantastic, or even good stories, but they were my first attempts at writing. I'd give almost anything to get them back.
Then, I started to write stuff of my own, I'd imagine my very own worlds and new plots and everything. I always ha dfun to come up with ideas for stories and started to write some of them. Haven't finished anything until today. But I do have an outline for a whole series, which i did when I was 12, so not something I want to work on.
Right now, I have one major project, but it actually includes two nearly seperate storylines, which I'm having problems untangling.

Oh also, I'm looking for a German critique group, because apart from one thing, I'm writing in German.

one small miracle

You know there's this saying that, if you keep your eyes open, you will wittness the wonders of God? That's what happened to me today.

First of all, I'm not really all that religious. Well, it really depends on your definition. I don't go to church very often. I go there every christmas and most easters and rarely in between. I just don't happen to find that church is that important to believe in God, which I do. And strongly so. But it's also okay for me if some people don't. I don't even discuss on this problem. either you believe in God or you don't. Doesn't change who I think you are.

Anyways, I had a long school day today and needed to get home by bike. But in the last lesson, the sky began to darken. It wasn't just that the sun went away, but it got really, really dark, like in Disney movies, when something bad is about to happen. So I go out the school doors and it's still night black and I take my bike, fasten the belt I have for my school bag and say a prayer. I asked God to keep the rain from falling for another minutes. That was 4:31.

So I drive home as fast as I can and the sky somehow manages to get even darker. Not kidding here, I couldn't see anything without the headlights of my bike. And because it had been so sunny the past days, it wasn't even all that cold, still didn't need a jacket. Which felt really strange. As I get closer to the village we live in, I see lightening behind me. Well, not really, i can just see it's reflection and then I hear thunde,r nearly immediately afterwards. Only it's not just one loud ramble, but it seems to surround me. and I go even faster, trying to make it home dry. Also, i look at my watch, just by coincidence. And just at 4:51, the first heavy raindrop falls on the sidewalk beside me, just as I get within the boundaries of our village. Exactly 20 min. after I asked for another dry 20 min.

I guess most people would say that was just a coincidence, but I think it was God's way of saying: "Hey, I listen to you!".

I got to our garage fairly dry. Only, when I was inside it, it started to pour. No, wait, that's an understatement. Raindrops came down as if they were poured out of thousands of bathtubs. Or swimming pools. I got soaked on the way from our garage to the house, which is only two metres away. So you can imagine what it was like.

Still, I had my miracle of the day.

when everything is weird

You know how it feels when everything's right and then again, it all seems so wrong?
I guess this is puberty but i wonder if it ever stops. I don't have any reason to be mad at anything and still at times, i hate the whole world. Then I think of people who are much less priviliged than me - child-prostitutes, people in developing countries, prisoners in dictatorships, you get the picture - and it makes me feel even worse. And then, I begin to hate myself a little. It's not that i would kill myself or anything, I just feel worseless, especially compared to what I got from life.
Now, what I often wondered about is whether that's just me or if it really just is puberty. Didn't have an idea but somehow couldn't talk about it with anyone.
Until today that is. Today I talked with a friend about it. It wasn't the kind of talk that had a purpose, we were just chattering in our free lesson and somehow talked about music and then I mentioned that i liked songs that depressed me. And she said she used to be like that to and that it was normal. (Might be a good time to say that all of my friends are a little older than me) So that was it, mystery solved. And I just thought I'd share (in case anyone is actually reading this), coz I like to drop down a note on things like that for later reference. And this way I won't have to do that coz it's here. Yay, I rule!