Sep. 17th, 2012 12:00 pm
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Hello All,

Spending way too much time creating sets on Polyvore is not productive, nor is spending far too much time on Tumblr. So of course my brain only wants to do these too things, instead of the script I have to work on, the fanfic I've left stranded in one place, and the promising looking character analysis I have opened but neglected in word.


Eight-Leggedly Yours,
The Literary Spider
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Hello Darling Dears,

So a couple of days ago a published writer came in to speak to me and the other "avid readers and writers" in my circle. We all, as per instructions, brought some work we'd like to be read out. Quite a few of my friends brought essays, but I decided instead to bring a piece of world-building I'd only just written. It went well.

For a start, she went "oh my god, this girl can write!" and then she just sat there and read the entire thing again. Then she said I had a future in writing, something every aspiring author loves to hear, and asked me about the story. I told her it was neo-victorian and outlined the plot. She said it had promise. So, in short, she said nothing but good things. I thanked her, got up to leave, and then...

"One thing though, it's a little Cliche!" 

That, my friends, is how dreams are crushed.

Eight-Leggedly Yours, 
The Literary Spider

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Hello All,

Today passed in a haze of exhaustion and a lot of internal dialogue that went along these lines:

Brain: For Gods sake Skye, go carry on with the Ominous Teen Novel! You always wine about having no time to write, now you have nothing but! If you spend one more minute on that horrible brain-rot Twitter I will go drown some of your IQ points without regret!
Me: Curse you. I've written two Rock Challenge articles, emailed them to Newsround and finished an essay about the relevance of marriage in today's society. I did all that TODAY. So do not judge me for sitting on Twitter & eating food, I haven't sat still for DAYS. Okay?
Brain: No. Go do more work...
Me: *Slinks onto Twitter"
Brain: NOW!
Me: *Sulk*

So that is todays position. I really do not think I have the energy to obey orders, so while I grapple with inner demons here is a random and incredibly emo sounding poem. Read as: I am procrastinating and should be character building right now.

From her mouth poured lines of splintered words
And prose, heady as wine and blood
Starlet eyes stare deep as chocolate
A songbird in a flightless wood

Daylight wolves encircle the lips
Of scarlet screams and smiles
Bright eyes hint at that was
And all that is for many miles

The well tread path bore many fruits
That spiraled, devoured and conquered through
The endless well of ink black dreams
And the bittersweet of endless blue

Eight-Leggedly Yours, 
The Literary Spider

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 Hello All,

So, you know that small indie *cough*worldwide*cough* dance/theatrical competition that is Rock Challenge? Well my school competed yesterday, and we won! This means we now are the bearers of the oh-so-modest title "Open Northern Champions". Hear that? I'm a CHAMPION! All that aside, it's not the winning I remember, as that was bittersweet, but the dancing and the meeting people.

The rehearsals were glory. In between running to the dressing room for hair and make-up, and our own practicing, all we did was watch the other schools. One did a awe-inspiring Disney with a twist piece, with an amazing gymnast and a tear-jerking soundtrack, while what must have been the most adorable primary school ever did a whimsical take on the "Art gallery at midnight" concept. Their was also a beautiful dance called Postcards From Heaven, which hovered between wistful and melancholy in a way that tore at the soul. Cancer Research was credited in the most harrowing thing I've ever seen, a piece about a promising young dancer thrown into uncertainty by cancer, who fought (and won) her mental demons as well as her illness in a teary but life-affirming climax. There were many other schools, I could go on forever, and all of them were absolutely wonderful performers, as well as people. 

Dancers are such characters. Just like Youtubers, Theatre-Kids and Fandom members, they're like an entirely different species. You can accidentally use someones can of glitter hairspray, and then the next minute you'll be leaning on them discussing your fave musicals like old friends. Or you can tell a group to "break a leg" and then after the show you can all cluster around the speakers in the dark, sprawled on the floor next to complete strangers who feel like family, holding hands and chanting and screaming like nothing else exists. You can meet people, compliment their accent and then feel genuinely upset when you have to leave the hugging, laughing and singing behind, because you felt so caught up in the lovely vibes, That's what happened to me.

Our school won, but when we were all sat in that circle in the dark we exchanged hopes and assurances that the other would win. When it was announced, they didn't cheer for us, they cheered WITH us, and hugged us and said how much we deserved it. In truth, we were upset they didn't win, as we thought they did. They were all such lovely people, bound to us by a love of the last minute "Hairspray and bobby pins fix everything" atmosphere and the will to keep dancing. I remember winning, but THAT I will cherish forever. Its times like that that make all the aching and bleeding and fatigue worth it...

Eight-Leggedly Yours,
The Literary Spider
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Hello all,

So I went to see the HH the Dalai Lama and Russell Brand today. I am completely awe-struck and without words on the whole subject. The thing I expected to be excited about was the fact I was six rows away from the bright-eyed imp that is Russell Brand, and he did not disappointed. He pranced around the stage with the electricity of all his stand up, yet he was humble and interested and immersed in the spirit of the thing, just as we were. He was entranced with the importance of the event, and his take on wisdom interspersed with light humor made the thing seem more relatable, more attainable, and more real because of it.

When the His Holiness entered the stage, everything stopped. it was like being in the presence of a king, or a scholar of the highest degree, and everyone fell silent. It was as if he would leave, disappear, like a fine apparition. It was like we were beneath him, and then..he laughed. it was a beautiful, bell-like peal. It was the laugh of a young man. He smiled, and the room lit up, we were all with him, caught up in his light, from the beginning. We weren't inferior any longer, we were (as he put it) fellow human beings.

When he spoke, everyone listened. Everything he said made sense, endless compassion and kindness, as well as his thoughts on what happiness meant. I felt myself get completely immersed in it, and somewhere along the way it reached me.... I felt like something struck a chord, and just from hearing him and Russell speak I discovered primary things myself.

In short, it was an inspiration. It was beautiful, transcendent and glorious and moving and enlightening and....just wonderful. Something within me has been changed, I know it. I doubt I'll ever experience something like that again.

So, to HH and to Russell Brand, I thank you. You opened my eyes and my heart, and I think I will be much more motivated because of it..

Eight-Leggedly Yours,
The Literary Spider

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The world was drenched in gold that night
She wandered through it fever white
Her frame so thin, with raven eyes
Chained to the ground, her soul in flight

Through ice blue eyes and pitch red screams
She sprinted through pain and thick black dreams
With untamed hair and unbridled ire
Not sure if things are what they seem

She ran through the essence of all she feared
While nightmare horses plunged and reared
At one with desperate lunacy 
And endless flames that laughed and jeered

Eight-Leggedly Yours
The Literary Spider
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 Just hit 1,500 words in three hours. Not bad.
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Hello all,

 Attended a showing of The Hunger Games film the other day, and I thought I would share my all-important opinion (Note: that was intended as irony) From Haymitch to Rue and back again it was a great show, so here are my two cents...
Haymitch and Katniss were cast perfectly. From the start you could see the fragmented, distant relationship between Prim, her mother and her sister, even if you hadn't read the books. The reaping reminded one of The Lottery, a short dystopian story that can be read here, complete with a dismal yet clinical atmosphere captured beautifully by Gary Ross. Even the slow evolution that was Effie's un-likability was portrayed brilliantly and with humor, without the seriousness and relevance of the story being lost.
Another artfully composed scene was the one in which *SPOILER ALERT* Rues tragic death occurred. So carefully done was this part that even the most dry-eyed haters (Both the tributes who thought the adaptation was sacrilege and the film buffs who said shaky camera angles and hallucination scenes were oh-so cliche) were moved to tears. The games themselves were awe-inspiring, and inspired total immersion, as well as highlighting at least several hundred ships that fan-girls will be drooling over until at least the next movie.
My only criticism was that of Gales casting. I thought he didn't match up to the books, and the his fractured, introverted, angry personality didn't exactly come through. I suppose though that is personal opinion, just as some wished for a Kristen Stewart Katniss or a Daniel Radcliffe Peeta. So in conclusion, this is a film for tributes and non-tributes alike, especially those who wish to talk with inflated self-importance of  "The relevance of a dystopian film in a doomed economy era"....

Eight-Leggedly Yours,


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