Your Lie in April

Just finished watching Your Lie in April on Crunchyroll. What a beautiful anime. A complete tear jerker. While there were some cliches in it (the love triangle one in particular, going 2 different ways), it was refreshingly lovely and unexpected.

I know there's a manga for it as well but, for once, I don't think I'll be trying to find it to read it. That's my normal first move after watching an anime that I like. But in this case, it's all about the music and the color. I don't think it would work as well lying there statically on the page. The animation is what really made it.

I mean, as a writer, the story -- including the "surprise" lie reveal at the end, is good but it isn't groundbreaking. I can't say that I was really surprised at the end or at any point during the development of the story. BUT it was all just really well done and deftly handled. Very nicely done.

I realise that I'm saying contradictory things here -- that it was unexpected but not groundbreaking. I think I'm looking at it as a gestalt. All of it together came together to make something really beautiful.

I suppose, as a comparison, today I also removed some things off of my queue on Crunchyroll. One was Listen to Me Girls, I'm Your Father which went in an entirely different direction. Decent idea for a story and a good main character...but totally ruined by over sexualization of young girls. It was uncomfortable to watch. I quit a few episodes in. Potential but ruined by pandering. No, not even pandering...I'm not even sure how to describe it. I'm obviously not the target audience, though and quite frankly, I wouldn't really want to know anyone who considers that to be their thing.

Life is short. Best to keep it full of beauty.

Otaku-ness

I recently realised that I now know more Japanese than Chinese, which is really kind of sad. Not that I can speak Japanese, but I've watched so much anime now that I've picked up some words and phrases.

That's kinda pathetic.

I have really been on a binge though. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I haven't really read for "just" pleasure much in recent years. I'm usually reading for research purposes (even if a lot of that reading is fiction in whichever genre I'm working in). I definitely can't say any of the manga I've been devouring has anything at all to do with my writing, though I would actually love to see the Hildie book as a graphic novel (but it would be a very non-manga-isn one). And I've mostly been reading and/or watching lighter "slice of life" romance-y type of things. Definitely not what I'm writing right now.

That could be why the Death book has been on my mind, as it fits more into that mold, though not at all neatly (and no, spellcheck, I'm going to leave that spelled the US way and not go the UK route of "mould" because it's my blog and I CAN).

Meanwhile, my office really is a complete mess. I need to take a day or two and just completely demolish it and throw away a bunch of stuff and do some filing. Re-organize. Have had very little get up and go though.

Weird health issues popping up again, including high blood pressure, which I've never had, and other mystery ailments. I'm not sure if that's why I've been so tired or if it is something else entirely.

Also not sure why I'm sitting here blogging instead of trying to get some writing done. The Hildie book is killing me. I keep writing in things that I don't have in the outline and then having to work around it. I think the middle bit of this book is going to be a hot mess. Going to be?? No, is. Totally is. Also the slowest I've ever written. I've had some 1000 word days but also a fair amount under 500. It does make me wonder if I should just work on something else for awhile, but I KNOW that the middle bits are always my problem parts. I'm just not sure why this particular book is being so horribly hard to get out.

All the Chicago parts actually came out pretty quickly and flowed nicely. But now that I'm at the scenes in London, it's stuttering along with lots of false starts and baby steps. Horrible.
Anyway...enough. Things to do.

Slippery

Words have been slipping

through my fingers lately,

remaining unformed, a jumble of unrelated syllables,

hazy and indistinct,

just out of reach.

Misbehaving

and running away from me

while I try to pin them down

and bend them to my will

but they are stronger than I,

all those vowels and consonants

unmoved.

They don’t care that I need them to do something for me.

They only see themselves.

I am not reflected in them anymore; I cast no shadow.

You see, they don’t need me,

not like I need them.

They can go on, oblivious,

line, stroke, inflection, punctuation

because they are themselves, no matter what

while I am only

the sum of the parts

that don’t add up.

Yeah, so...Death

So here I am, writing on the book I'm not supposed to be. I started off working on Hildie like a good little author -- the book I really need to finish. But this scene still isn't going anywhere. I can't see it. I'm not going to call it writer's block because I don't really believe that exists. But whatever it is, it just isn't working right now. Not sure if it's the characters or the story isn't where it needs to be or what, but something is off.

So.

So I opened up Death's Door. It's death, you know, and romance too. First love and sadness, sweetness and loss. And some funny bits, because I can't ever write without that.

It's only at about 14,000 words but somehow it has been in my head lately, so there you go.

And damn it, I can see them.

Time keeps slipping...

It's the boy's 7th birthday today. It's already the third month of the year. Am slowly making progress on the book, fewer words per day than I think I've ever had. Not a day over a 1000 in the last week. I'm not sure why this one is like pulling teeth. The early parts came out fairly smooth and fast but this bit is dribbling out in drabs. Painfully. The blood on the forehead type of writing.

I keep wondering if I need to just go back and work on the Death book for a while. Or anything else. But I also know I have to just get on with it.

And meanwhile, I've been devouring manga and anime. I've been in the mood for romance. Slice of life stuff. Things like that. Maybe that's part of my problem. I'm writing about offing people with wine openers and full on bloodshed but have been reading all these girly things. Not sure why.

That doesn't usually bother me though or affect my writing. I am, however, always my own worst enemy. There's a good chance I'm a bit afraid of finishing this book. I kind of want to kill it with fire at the same time that I want to place all my hopes in it. It's too much to put on one book.

It has made me realise, however, what it is that I like about writing YA. It's that first flush of new love -- you can't get that same feeling in an adult book because it's been there, done that. There's only one first love, first kiss, first everything. There's an intenseness in that first time for everything.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to that time, but only if I could be the me that I am now. Not that I've ever grown up. Does anyone? The older you get, the better you get at faking it. Faking knowing what you are doing. But I am more comfortable in my own skin now. I know what my strengths and weaknesses are. Can't always do anything about them, but I know what they are. And I care less about what people think of me. I'm happy when I'm alone, watching people. I don't need people like I used to. I don't derive my own worth through my connections anymore.

I suppose that's good and bad.

My brain is wandering all over the place today like a cloud blown this way and that by the North wind. I was going to write down a list of the manga I've been reading to keep track of it, but I've already wasted too much time.

And spent more words in the last 10 minutes writing this than I've written on the damn book. Seriously, what is with this one?? I like Hildie. I just can't seem to see these few characters that need to carry me through the next chapters. Why? What's with them? I can't see them. They are hazy, hiding in the shadows.

Maybe I need to go back and read from the beginning. Get back in the flow.

Maybe I need to write something else for a day or two.

Maybe I need to bust out some poetry and really go all maudlin.

Gotta do something. Because this isn't working right now.

It could also be that I'm tired, so desperately tired. Haven't been sleeping enough. And it's all my own fault. Well, mostly. Some of it is the hubby's fault and the fact that he has to sleep on his back right now since he broke his collarbone and is snoring like some kind of super lumberjack. But mostly it's me.

Like I said, I am my own worst enemy.