megwrites: Reading girl by Renoir.  (Default)
[personal profile] megwrites
Quick link: [livejournal.com profile] scififanatic has some good thoughts on hip hop and some of the controversies about lyrics/content therein. In her words: "Lyricists are simply storytellers like writers. If people can't relate to the stories of the streets some lyricists come from, then the solution is simple--go find some new music to vibe with."

I couldn't agree more.

As a writer and reader, I'm very keenly aware that just because a story isn't liked doesn't make it bad or wrong. Just because a poem or story or song or piece of art touches a nerve doesn't mean the answer is to try get it ripped down and hidden in a dark corner.

I think, in my version of a perfect world (I call it the Megverse, and I like to go there when this universe gets a little too icky) instead of running from literature, songs, art, and statements that make them uncomfortable, people would sit down and take a long hard think about why they're uncomfortable, what that means, and if they can come to some sort of terms with it. And as a bonus, they might even open an honest, respectful, thoughtful, open minded dialog about it with others so that they can learn from it.

As for the writing, I am still plucking away on the Tower!Guy Story revisions. See, I even have progress notes to prove it!

Project: Tower!Guy Story

Wordcount: 41369 (+4226 words)

Goal: 100,000 words or less

Deadline: August-ish

Reason For Stopping: Finished chapter, new netflix movies came in the mail and lunch was had.

Exercise: None. This week's quota has technically been fulfilled.

Stimulants/Chemicals: H2O with added flavoring. A couple of oreos (I'm evil, I know!)

Musical Inspiration: "Barn Owl, Night Killer" by Sufjan Stevens. Good for being both creepy and angsty. "Suevtar" by Gjallhorn. "May Morning Dew" by Sharon Night.

Darling du Jour: I could do it so easily, he tried to assure himself. I could see this stupid little heathen princess dead in rags at my feet. I could, oh Goddess, I could. The Bonedevil sneered though she couldn't see it, trying to muster the necessary contempt, but it was too far removed. No I couldn't. Now now, he admitted to himself with a silent sigh. His face fell, and pitied the Goddess if this was how she felt whenever she looked down on people from her heavenly perch.

Mean Things: Having to tell why your entire city got wiped out. Running head on into a solid object. Lying. Seriously considering cold blooded murder (see above). Parental abandonment.

Things Learned/Discovered: My characters are all very snarky, and I've got a bad habit of using ten words when five will do. Two shorter chapters read easier than a single, large one. Especially if you leave it on a cliffhanger. Oreos are addictively evil. I'm really going to have to bust some ass in July to make my self-imposed August deadline.
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