Hollywood eats it's Young.

I believe in my heart of hearts I'm more of an "inspirer" than a sit-down-and-write 24/7, but thus far 50 pages into my book, I'm at a stifling standstill. Is it good? Who decides what is good? I know it's definately not good to not be able to think.

Admittedly I've been gone from the writing scene for a while, at least on blogger, however, I have been blogging semi-daily on my myspace page. www.myspace.com/lovelyfacade

After my blunt rejection without comment to a magazine, for a not so good short story that I was trying too hard on, I'm settled with knowing that I should let the words come to me, instead of trying to fight for them. I have ideas, ideas that would surprise even the burley Leif Erikson that's appeared in my dreams lately. (yes, I have been having dreams about vikings)

One swift way to allow a blog to die, is to quit writing, and if one thing I do know, I have writing in my soul, so I needn't let this die. I write because it makes me happy, not because it makes me who I am, thus I am happy.

In other, non writing news, I spent the previous night at my boyfriend's house, where I'm assured that his family drama would make for good reading.

It's an idea. The title "What our parents leave us" or "The cannabalistic older generation". How confusing they do make life. Not saying our generation is any better, but, somehow, I'd like to believe it is, at least a little bit, more so in understanding and idealism, than theirs was previously. Advocating for change, and a heritage of our earth.

I am too idealistic.

Ahoy.