Welcome to Gaia! ::

Okay, I wish I were on more, but due to a number of circumstances, all of them social, I can hardly get on once a day anymore.

So I was thinking...well, people have asked me dozens of times where I am. I'm sure other writers, especially those who take time off, get similar questions.

And so, the Writer's Cafe was brainstormed, and after a gestation period of about three days, it has been born!

Here writers old and new can post what's up with their lives, explain delays, discuss styles, and generally talk about what's happening, so long as it pertains to their lives. I'm a little concerned that we're all going to be a bunch of brooding artists, but then, the more the merrier right? Maybe we can shine some light on each other.

(Muse, if this gets ten hits can I sticky it?)

Love and Vale,
-LD

EDIT: Thanks everyone for making the LKWC such a huge success (the biggest post-count thread in all of the FSFBG)! I'd like to think that we're all a little closer because of it, or at least a bit more informed personally.

EDIT EDIT: Really guys, thanks for everything. I have no idea what I would have done without you guys, especially with my little Masq episode a while back. I owe you one.

I've been pretty busy too, university just started up and already things are getting tedius. Between my girl friend demanding every free moment I have, my family demanding I do everything for them plus school work... I haven't seen this site in quite some time. I'm just prepping for a humanities class, so I don't have much time even now, haha. And I'm moving, thank goodness, no more family! I'm one of the few people that truly and undoubtedly hates their family, and it isn't even because I was adopted. So yeah, school, family, gf, and now moving... some times I wish I could take some time off, just sit, collect my thoughts, maybe finish off my second book. Fun stuff. Awe well, nothin to do but go with the flow.

the Lion

That's pretty forward. I'd call it sort of fast if you kiss before the first date O_O;

By the way, bravo to you Leav, for having us post reasons we can't post. It's brilliant. xd

I'm still getting around to DMO, and I'd like to say schoolwork is eating all my time, but its really, WoW, the two RPGs I'm running, and work on my art. I promise I'll try to get more active!

Mostly assignments on my end. Four due by the end of next week and i've handed eight in only last week. Sacry, because i only have eight classes. 0.o Anyway, i spend an hour on the bus on the way to school, then an hour back home in the afternoon. gives me plenty of time to sit and think.

My christmas holidays normally consist of a fourteen hour drive up to brisbane, so i'm used to long drives and i love the bus rides. Remember, i live country, at the moment we're had some rain and it's coming into spring. I also live near canberra, so ther are all the roos and rabbits and stuff other peoples don't normaly see. It all really pretty at the moment.

I think this is a great idea too, so everyone can explain... 3nodding

Yeah.... I rethought that one. Details when I feel like it.

Oh, and I totally know that this is brilliant. (Sarcasm) But really, it serves the purpose of a forum wide delay repository at least. And it gives us all a place to chat, as authors. And it gives the new writers a place to post, to learn a little about us and share a little about themselves.

Yeah.... I understand, I suppose. I just wish I had time for those things....

Love and Vale,
-LD

Ah, well. I wish I could claim a writer's block, but honestly, I have NO TIME. Like, at all. crying crying crying
-LD

Ah LD I believe this makes 12 posts, i say sticky it, but eh, i'm not crew so i guess we'll see, As for writers block, hmm... I've had about a 2 month writers block, haven't really worked on anything and my head isn't gushing out with ideas like it usually is.

Update on my life:

Gramps' cancer has spread to some of his bones, including his hip and his spinal cord. What caused this you ask? Why, smoking, of course. It is incurable. He will die of this. But it is treatable. For how long? No one knows. We can only hope desperately that the chemo works on the cancer.

So cross your fingers (eyes, toes, arms, legs, anything you can!), whisper, cry, shout, scream a prayer to any god that will listen to the pitiful pleas of helpless humans and minuscule, meaningless mortals, that it will all be okay. And when it is not, well then cry in endless, empty sorrow, like the coming of the next Great Flood, without a rainbow in sight, beat your breasts in grievous grief, anger and worry and despair feeding on themselves, each other, like some terrible serpent devouring its own tail like eternity. Only crueler, the type of eternity where the author dies, or the god dies, leaving everything a wreck, whence the woman must come to clean things up for him.

But what then, when the woman leaves, too? Who to clean up the mess, and how without a broom? No order, no semblance of structure. Just a leaning tower destined to fall, like some twisted, undying monument to the worst kind of chaos and destruction and disorder. Just another cancer, now bone-deep, one more integral brick being pulled from the tower, like some sick children's game, where neither child nor tower knows what will happen next, but they keep pulling bricks until it all comes crashing down.

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust and it all comes down and it all means nothing, and everything, most and least of all when it's cigarette ashes and long-term suicide and your grandfather's dust. Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could, but then, ashes beget ashes, right? Nothing, it seems to me at least, does come from nothing. Rather literally.

Oh. Yes. And what a wonderful ******** world. I forgot that one. My apologies. Louis often slips my mind. Saints often do. Mother Teresa included. Fat lot of good it ever did anyone, sainthood. Great, you have people pray to you, ask you for things, but not ever worship you. Complementary divine askance. Comes with the wine and wafers. And the mint on your pillow. That's from Antony. Or Raphael. (Or maybe Valentine, if you're lucky) I can never remember. Maybe a nun slipped it in. After all, with all those favors, the saints are so busy. Yep. Probably a nun. But you know, I wonder...where is Jesus? And where are my porkchops?

And the nuns stopped using brooms. Something about wickedness in the house of Our Lord and Savior. But you know, it's getting kind of dirty in here. Someone should clean up before He gets home, wickedness or no. I mean, how else will we get the dirt off this floor? He isn't going to be happy if those magnificent robes of his get spotted with dust. Let alone ash. We might have another dark age on our hands if that happens. Damn it all, and no I don't care where we are, give me the goddamn broom and I'll clean it up myself, and no I don't care whose ash/dust this is, it must be swept away, and I'll use whatever tools suit me best and to hell with the rest and I'll watch my language when I feel like it goddamn it, and I don't care whose house this is, I'm cleaning it up and that's that!

(Wow, I guess I can ramble on quite a bit when I'm so stressed out, huh....)

Umm...and how is everyone else?
~Masq