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Showing results for tags 'Online Musings'.
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The Epic Critics have gone AWOL, so I've been doing the reviews of late. Sadly, our curator has been AWOL for too long a period of time. I'm thinking about a renewal of topic and *gulp* me becoming Curator. Putting that aside, if I had any complaint to make, it was either of authors saying that 'i need a review becoz i lack reviews' or 'i am in desperate need of a review!!!' No worries, I solved that problem. The fact that such a problem existed was also fine by me, but the idea of treating our post as just another review post to add to the quota was annoying. Epic critics are way more critical than your regular reader. Honest. If I were as brutally honest as Simon Cowell (I am, just that I don't show it), I'd hate to see the gore left behind by me because of readers like that. Then again, people will ask 'Why write fanfiction when no one reads?' You answer that question yourself, because only you can solve your battles. While I critique and rave about this and that of your epic, I cannot teach you how to describe, how to make your characters 'real' and yadda yadda. It's self-learning. The second complaint: Why is everyone writing the same thing? Yeah. It's real. Over half of the epics I receive have war or battle written all over its title. Half will be of a new island, new Matoran, new Toa, the battle of evil and good stuffed with drama, romance, action... much like the original Bionicle storyline, save that there is not much romance in canon. Thank goodness. The other half would be of new bad guys, going around and getting rid of all that's good. And, I don't know how it ends. No one has seemed to come to an end yet. It's all the same to me, really. I'm not going to be a real meanie and say that 'oh, bionicle fanfiction is all the same' - there are stories out there which are different, and succeed in review quota and the improvement of the author. Of course, add in the fact that most of these achievers were already famous BZPers somewhere out there. Fame is a big thing over here - and some turn into authors. (Binkmeister did a short story, no? GaliGee is a prime example.) But, I see much more in Bionicle that we can tap into. C'mon, they made cities for us to explore, they made seas for us to dive into, they made tiny little islets and those could be tapped. Something not dripping in blood, broken hearts and dripping sweat would be interesting to me now. Really interesting. And here I shall stop being a Simon-wannabe. Yeah. Happy Maundy Thursday, the Good Friday that is to follow, and the Easter Sunday after that.
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I must, must, must and absolutely must do some kind of rave about the BZP Library. It is one of the few I know that separates its different story kinds into separate forum threads. Comedies stand on their own, that's definitely without saying. They vary in the different stories that lead to laughter, but so as long as they lead to laughter it's good for anyone. It's a suspectible place to see Kopaka slam a cream pie into Lewa's face, though that may never happen in Bionicle's fantasy and Kopaka may just feel righteous enough to do the act. Then there are the remaining two, who are really similar to each other, yet different. Short Stories and Epics. Both need to tell a story that's serious. Both allow different kinds of stories to transform in the minds of the author, from love to woe, tragedy to serious (character-related) hilarity. We mix and match these different elements, add in a few Toa/Matoran friends, whip it up real good and you have a story that fits in either category. There sets a fine line in the difference there that the author has to take note of. Epics allow you to build on your story. It'll have to move at a slower pace, to allow room for more chapters to show growth, development and formation. It's very tedious, and extreme credit goes to the author who completes his/her epic but keeps the spice and vivacity of the epic throughout its span. I can't achieve that, but I'm working towards it. Action, drama and a lot of emotion steepled into the plot make an epic fly. Short stories require a complete story in a matter of paragraphs, and quick development but it banks on the manner the story is told, and how the author portrays the story in one shot. Pace is no worry, but the tedious part of the story is to make sure that every part fits, cohese, and in the end sends out the message to the reader. It has to be there, otherwise the story is a mass of words that are in a mess. One bids the question: Which to try, which to do? Being the inexperienced one when I first got here and a crazy epic setting off the sparks, I started out in the Epics section. But, for those who wish to start on a writing journey of self-discovery (oh so cliche), it's up to you. Do you prefer to write one tale at a time, or do you have a brilliant idea to kick-start your own major story, with characters and aplomb? I really don't know. I find it way more useful to be working with both different mediums. But, heh, my one weakness in the Library is the Comedies. It's easy to make a comedy, but so hard to make it last!
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Yeah, I've never heard the song for the Barraki mini-clip, being that I had never seen the clip before. So when I heard that it was downloadble, I was loaded with curiosity, and downloaded it. I wasn't exactly pleased with it. It was a rock song about darkness, but I think they tried too hard to make their point known. The lyrics were simple, but it led to cheesiness. *punch 1* Music wise, I think I'll be able to ear-play this song real quick! No, not really. I won't really have the chance to do that, but when I first listened to the introduction, I thought it was some major-key pop song. Chord progression into minor changed the tone, and satisfied me. That saved it. *puts balm on bruise* Last point that killed it - the singer was on-key (of course), but not 'rock' enough to join the crew. I think the dude rapper who was going on in the middle did a better job than her! It's hard to find 'em girl rockers who can really rock out vocally. This one didn't make my cut. 'Creeping In My Soul' creeped out of my ears. I love 'Hero' and 'Caught In A Dream' way better. Which band did those numbers?
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It's the bloom of the thrillers, down here in the Library. At least, it still flows along with the main-stay-plot of new Toa, new island, new enemies, but this new line of epics have shown lots of fight scenes, running from danger, and what makes it catching is the increase of drama and action in the story. This I noticed in the ECC, and outside. Mind me for being the equal of a fash hag gossip column, I hate those magazines, but while many new writers put their bets in that plot to get them somewhere, it is a risky thing. As a depth reader and one who loves to be the nit-picky person about what I see, thrillers are dangerous for many writers. It's a great platform to get noticed, sure, but not a good way to pick experience at. A first-time thriller faces the threat of lacking depth, GOOD characters and their development (which is really hard to do) and keeping a good balance and plot moving on. All right, maybe not the best point. A good warning from those thriller-writers out there: I do like a good plot, but if your epic is a thriller that tickles my eyelid, I will let you know and suggest you try something easier. This coming from an epic critic that equals Simon Cowell (not in temper, I hope) and is suffering from boredom, this could be one of the funniest rants I had.
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Hello from one of the most popular malls on the island. Just did some new year shopping. Custom had it that every new year meant a new set of clothes. To blazes with whoever that made that rule. I nearly got mobbed! I hope that 5 shirts, a pair of jeans and a jacket does the trick. I nearly blew my really big budget. And may this go down in history: <dd> blogged and browsed BZP on her cellphone! May I not blow my bill.
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She stoned. Head and crossed arms on the table, she stared at the screen, its glare glowing on her face and her dark surroundings. Dull eyes kept looking at the words, but more so at the lack of words. Where were they? The topic's been sleeping for more than a week, nevermind that Curator was not present, and hasn't been, for the while. She was getting busy, trying her best to slip in the reviews from her blank mind. But - where were the others? That was a question worth mulling over. With an index, she poked the screen, willing it to change with a prod. Nothing happened. She gave the screen another poke. Nothing happened. She gave it one more poke. The screen suddenly disappeared over the table edge, only to hear an 'OW!' and not a crash from the other side. At the voice, she perked up. Another pair of eyes appeared at the other end of the table and rose to finally reveal another being, screen cradled in her arms. "You need help?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ah, yeah. Reason why the Epic Critics Club thread's been dead (except for the new requests)? The critics are all neck-deep in RL. I am too. Managed to squeeze myself back here. Thank ye Jedi Gali for the help! Now, let me clear up the two remaining epics so we won't have to fret anymore. That, and I have to confirm my new status as an Epic Files Interviewer.
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Epic Contest #6 has just popped up, one since 3 years, according to some. I encourage many epic writers to take part. As for me? No thank you. In fact, after looking at my newest fictions - which aren't Bionicle - and the reviews and the style, I did a rethink. It seemed that my self had split into two separate writers, and that did not suit me so well. I saw one side gaining a better deal of experience than the other half, because one side was dormant and the other way too active. I checked back to my drafts and the aforementioned fictions. There was a big difference. My Bionicle fictions looked appalling. Well, that leads to a course of action which I haven't exactly determined. I'm thinking about closing my current epic and doing some real storyboard work. Or, attempt to do short stories all the way and attempt an epic after I find a good, solid backing to my writing and character-writing. It just takes a while, to keep chewing and gnawing and figuring out some things... while keeping an eye on your assignments. Grr...
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This was one of my submissions to the polytechnic writing competition. I think this writing did not bag a prize, but it was fun to write it. I'm putting it up so you guys can nibble on something fun instead of my incessant grumbling. On a better note, I've reviewed more epics in the ECC, just before school starts tomorrow. Hopefully, other critics can help while I'm at school. And most annoyingly, the last term was going to last only three weeks, and lunge into three more months of holidays. It means more time online, but it means something worse for my lifestyle and my poor eyes. Enough of this rambling. Onto the story. And since it was a local story, let's clear a few terms. Hawker centre - Food court. Ya know, big place with lots of foodstalls you buy food from. chilli padi - The teeny tiny chilli, baby chilli, or something a step before jalapenos. Of Red Smarties That Aren't It took mere seconds for her face to contort. From its once rested and serene features, it cringed into a distorted face of agony and torture. A tear leaked from her narrowed right eye, and she felt her nose start to water unexpectedly. The little child then spat out the offending item that put her into anguish: a chilli padi, the size of her thumb, ripe scarlet and split, its yellow seeds stuck in the glob of saliva that left with the chilli. The child bawled ceaselessly, her face still in a cringe. The pain had not left, and continued to sear her tongue unbearably. Her eyes now were watering more than a leaking faucet would, the tears streaming down her plump cheeks, rivulet upon rivulet. Her nose was watering too, and the inferno continued to bear into her in its flaming victory. She was more than rueful about picking up that strange red item from Daddy’s plate. It was bright and shiny, and it did look awfully like the red M&Ms and Smarties that she loved to eat. Save that, it did not hurt to eat them. But this… this hot thing that did something to her mouth, hurt! The pain was not going anywhere and lingered in its newfound home. Where was Mummy, or Daddy? They have gone to the washrooms, she believed, and who was going to relieve her of the misery she’s in? Her incessant wails echoed throughout the hawker centre as she tore around the round table her family occupied. People who were rudely interrupted from their meals eyed the little pig-tailed girl clad in a Barbie-imprinted outfit and pink slippers to match that scrambled wildly around the table. They merely continued their meal, nonetheless feeling a grudge of disapproval and annoyance to the ‘wailing machine’ not far from them. In much desperation, the girl clambered onto the chair of the table and peered at the contents of her family’s supper. There must be something to stop this pain! But what was it? Remembering a lesson from kindergarten about putting out a fire with water, she lunged for the nearest cup to her, speckled with condensation and cold to the touch, and eagerly gulped down the drink. Many gulps later, her eyes grew in alarm and she promptly returned to her bawling, on a much harsher and shriller note. The plastic cup fell from her hands and its contents spewed from the container: a brown fizzy liquid, that bubbled and spat as it surged across a few tiles under the table. Coke was the notorious aggravator of a mouth that was fired up by the blistering condiment, and it did its deed of exacerbating the child’s flaming tongue. Had the girl known, she would not have gulped down nearly half of what the cup contained, but it was too late to say anything now. By now, she was too tired to run rounds around the table, and was too exhausted to go off searching for her parents, which she should have done in the first place. All she could do, in bitter surrender, was to stand where she was and continue with the waterworks she had started with, in babyish fashion. The hysterical wails had simmered to almost inaudible sobs. Where was Mummy? Where was Daddy? She could use a hug and kiss from Mummy to make her feel better, and Daddy to give her something to stop the torture. The shuffle of feet came from behind, a familiar clip-clop that the girl perked up to. They were Mummy’s shoes! She was certain of it! Mummy is here to help! The girl spun around expectantly, only to see a Caucasian couple striding into the hawker centre, the slender lady with a tiny purse that swung wildly as she strutted in her heels. The girl sorely turned away, her hopes quickly ceasing to be. Where was Mummy and Daddy? They could not have abandoned her, they absolutely could not! Mummy’s handbag and Daddy’s hand-phone were still here, but it has been so long since they’ve left! Where were they? A spark of vehement spite threatened to ignite in her and she nearly burst into a new-fangled temper, the vivid pain in her mouth still burning strong, when she felt herself being plucked off her seat. “Sara! Look at you!” Daddy! “Give her to me, Richard!” A woman swept the child from the man’s arms and into her own. She immediately recognized who this lady was. “MUMMY!” The child hugged her mother in a dead-lock, more than reluctant to release her grip. The lady pecked the child’s cheek. “Aw, Sara, look at you! Why were you crying?” Mummy proceeded to take tissue from her handbag and wiped her face. The child sputtered, and she whimpered. The tissue did not help her mouth. “Have a look, honey.” She watched her parents turn to the mess she made, and back at her. “Oh, Sara! You ate chilli? Oh you silly little girl,” Mummy dug into her massive handbag and pulled out a water bottle. She uncapped it dexterously with one hand and held it out to her. The girl lunged at the bottle greedily and nursed the bottle in great gulps. “There, there, don’t choke.” “It was chilli padi. You shouldn’t have left it in her reach.” “Honey, it was from your plate. Never mind, we’ll go back home right now. Sara needs a rest. She had a bad day, right Sara? That was really hot, wasn’t it?” She nodded eagerly to that, and clasped onto her mother’s shoulder as they made their way to the car. Finally, the pain was over, and her parents saved the day. She had, never for a moment, lost faith in them, for she knew her parents would always be there for her. Though, she had learnt now, that not all red Smarties were safe to eat.
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My geography teacher was right. After Christmas, expect some geological disaster/happening to occur. It may not strike constantly, but frequently enough to make it a world trend. Examples? The post-Christmas Bam Earthquake, the infamous tsunami that crashed the shores of Thailand, India, Sri Lanka and other places, and the most recent one this year: an underwater earthquake. The earthquake occured just off Taiwan, a bit away from Singapore, but its effects were felt here. A few days before it struck, Singapore felt a bit of tremors hitting the east side of the island (I believe it's east). And now that it has struck, Singapore and several other Asian countries are facing telecommunications issues. The hardwires for the region's Internet, network and telephone lines just happened to be located at where the earthquake occured. And now, webpages that often took 20-30 seconds to load take at least 40 seconds or a minute. And that included BZPower, DeviantArt, other sites that I commonly visit... Google was the worst... Blargh!
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Carefully treading around datapads strewn haphazardly across the metallic floor, the girl was trying her best to hurry over to the headquarter terminal of the room - which was at the opposite side of the room where she was and sitting prettily upon the long countertop which the curator kindly asked for upon the room's construction - which was quite a far way off. Nearly crushing one datapad by accident, the girl peered around a stack of datapads that she was carrying. Grief upon her, why didn't anyone decide to put those datapads back onto the shelf? If the curator came back, the steel floor would melt to slag and the critics would be fried, sliced and diced in several methods and styles. And of course, the girl did not want any of the Epic Critics, her included, to disappear from BZPower as sushi bits. A datapad from her stack threatened to slip, causing her to pause and shove it back into position with one hand, before slipping her hand under the stack and taking another step forward. That was the last step that brought her to the keypads of the terminal. Relieving her load upon the long countertop, she finally logged into the terminal and checked upon the records of her fellow colleagues. Her hazel eyes glowed at the report on the screen. 'A few epics reviewed! A miracle!' Then the eyes dimmed at the sight of more epics. 'And a lot more to go. Ah well.' Locating the datapad feeder below the terminal, the girl fed a datapad into the slot and settled down to resume work as an Epic Critic. And what a job it was. This is therapeutic. No, really. Especially when you wander in a forum thread which has more writers than readers, or all the people who exist in the topic are writers. And here, everyone reads, comments and writes. The ultimate combo, if you ask me. But, IMHO, with the short attention span that the modern world has given to us as 'gifts', it's hard to catch up with epics, waiting forever for epics to be updated and deciding halfway down an epic that it's boring and too predictable to like and taking flight to look for another. HT help the poor epic that meets that fate. However, we being the weird and wonderful people we are, we keep writing more epics. The only reviewers in the Epics forum, I'm afraid, are the ECC critics. And we don't come on that often anymore. If given my way, I'd drop my assignments and test preparations and come a-reviewin' with aplomb and releasing a tidal wave of reviews for the epics-in-waiting. If only Reality were that kind. *sigh* AH WELL, enough of my rambling. The ECC is in dire need of helpers who would love to read more than one epic, and give a great review to compliment the writer and help the writer improve. I would be lying if I said that that it's all laidback work that you can run in, on and off. As we all are writers, new epics keep comin' in. They keep critics alive. Keep them coming. And fellow critics who happen to read this, do note this: I'm not plaguing any one of you guys to feel bad in anyway. If offence is felt, then I'm sorry you took it the wrong way. I'm just wondering why the ECC is facing such back-lagging and being less able than before to review. And, as I said above, this is therapeutic. On another note, school's starting on Monday. Two tests coming up, two assignments due on the same day, two more books to read. Two more days to school. Aiyee.
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Electone exam's coming in: 4, more accurately 3, days. Link to older image Next up on the board: My little sister. By the glance, you could tell that she's pretty. You bet she is. She's the one with the looks among us three sisters. Slim too. But, she’s the most bubbly of us lot. If I were to think of our group of sisters as a juxtaposition of the Powerpuff Girls (but we all would cringe at the thought), my twin would have been Blossom and this one would have been Bubbles. That would leave me as Buttercup. Any who, this girl is the epitome of an urban, casual and chic teen, like most of the femme teens we see (excluding my twin and me). She is the most daring in her fashion sense. It would be safe to say that she’s the most extroverted of us three too. But, she’s not all the insensitive materialistic girl I’m making her out to be. She can be very nice, and knows among those who are around her are good, true friends. She’s also street-smart, and while she holds her reservation about letting our parents know about her mind’s troubles, she has no problem telling me and we both put our heads together and sort it out. My dear little ballerina, I’m sorry I could not find a tutu, but this would have to do. And I love that shirt. Next… well, I don’t think I can do my brother… maybe I’ll do… a BZP member, or, if I dare, me? Listening to: Happy Feet Soundtrack Website ‘Jump N’ Move’
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Yesterday was a day of achievement for me, and it was not just the SSC#4 Honourable Mention. - I got my results for two major tests. Both clinched ‘A’s. - My 'students' passed. One even cried his thanks out loud, with the teacher watching on. But, now... oh gosh, the electone exam's a-coming, in 6 days! I should be practising right now, but there're people my parents invited over downstairs and they're discussing in the room where the electone is. That and my electone is a safety hazard. The atmosphere also doesn't feel right: the exam room would have the air-con blasting away to freeze my fingers so they can't tinkle well, but the room my electone's in was balmy! So, to settle down those poor nerves... I dolled. This was an attempt to turn real life people into these dolls, to show their different features and challenge myself to see how much I understand of them: What would they wear? What colours do they like? Would she like flowers? Would he like that Lamborghini icon? So, take one, my twin sister! Link to older version of this doll I told her to let down her hair, but she was always too stiff to do so. However, she's a princess. No, not a snobbish one or else I would have severed our twin-bond. She's dignified and upholds herself in her everyday doings. Everyone in class knows that she can go whack and be a little nutty at times, but most of the time she's the ace who walks with a type of self-confidence only she could emulate. I shall not touch that face feature again. Her head should look a little sharper, but I could not find a match. And the eyes! Gosh, only one set of eyes looks human on the doll. The rest make her look… alien. So, here you have it. Next one I would do would probably be of my little sister, or my buddy.
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I... won... I won in a BZP contest... For the first time, in my three years on this little site and hidey-hole on the Net, I finally won a BZP contest. OK, it's an honourable mention, but it's better than nothing! I'll be honest that I thought my songfic would get somewhere, but I had not expected a winning position at all! I'm dumbfounded, speechless, well... genuinely surprised. I checked the topic after my 8am test, with my friends around me. Everyone laughed when I squeaked. Ahh, I don't know if I should go around screaming that I 'won' an online contest, or should I sit and smile like a maniac and creep the rest of my classmates out. I've done it. A win under my belt, and here's to more Bionicle fiction from me! *toast!* The fic, I Hope You Can Dance, for your reading pleasure
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I did my SS3 entry at one shot. I'm glad to say that the story seemed to write itself out, with thanks to the song and mood music. I Hope You Dance I loved that song ever since I heard it as a young girl, but I never really knew what it was until recently, when I stumbled upon a Ronan Keating CD my maid bought and she and I listened to it. It's also my first try at songfic writing. Honestly, I don't think I'll get very far with the story, but it's bittersweet and is memorable as my first one. I hope I did not murder the song with such a poor story. Yesterday, I went back to the polytechnic once more but for a different purpose. I was joining a radio talkshow cum discussion, Campus Live by one of the local radio stations Singapore has. The topic in mind was "Mainstream Media versus New Media: Who Will Win The Battle of the Young?" Everyone was interested in talking about receiving the news from papers or the Internet and made it seem that youths were politicians in the making. However, I wanted to give a voice for us, people who unleash our creativity via writing or drawing (or whatever means) online. I was so eager to take the mic, and I spoke about interactivity that New Media gives us, and spoke that forums online (I was hinting BZP) allowed us civilians to show our creativity as artists or writers (hinting to us writers and artists without some funky cert to say so) and show it to the world. I was so glad that the real critic of the invited panel replied to my comment, and she agreed with me! Score! With the conclusion that both media types should co-exist in harmony and we should enjoy it while the peace lasts, I left to the computer labs where my new tutee, Rain, was waiting with her homework to be checked by moi. I heard myself on the radio that night too, listening to the repeat broadcast and soon the podcast. Gawsh, I sound so... strange! That's it for now. And the count? T: +8, -1 Things: REMT (Recording, Editing and Mixing Techniques) = DONE MIDI (MIDI and Synthesis) = DONE EIC (Effective Interpersonal Communication) = DONE MUST (Music Theory) = DONE ET (Ear Training) = DONE ACTS (Acoustical Science) = DONE CRS (Critical Reasoning Skills) = DONE SS3 Entry (You should know what this means!) = DONE Electone Exams Practice = Sight-reading is confirmed, down the drain. Three pieces are improving, but still need some finetuning. *throws up binary confetti*
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T: +6, -3 Things: REMT (Recording, Editing and Mixing Techniques) = DONE MIDI (MIDI and Synthesis) = DONE EIC (Effective Interpersonal Communication) = DONE MUST (Music Theory) = DONE ET (Ear Training) = DONE CRS (Critical Reasoning Skills) = DONE Look at that! Ain't that beautiful? ACTS was removed as I decided that studying for a test could be done days before a test but not a week before. I would forget everything about it and lose the grasp. Put aside for later: SS3 Entry (You should know what this means!) = It may not happen. It just might, though. Electone Exams Practice = Sight-reading is confirmed, down the drain. The three main pieces are satisfactory. Today, to reward myself, I created my deviantART account! I placed a link in here by the side (Can ya see it?), but I really don't know if it's okay. BlogMods help! My FanFiction.Net URL is also placed up. (EDIT: Removed, due to the stuff FF.net has may not be appropriate for younger audiences, and the lack of a mature content block. Don't want any of us affected by.... strange things...) And I'm glad to say that 'Autumn Leaves' has been edited and placed onto my DevArt account, since posting it here may not be such a good idea and no real appropriate forum exists in here. I had a busy day today, and my brain's about to blow up like the Fourth of July. Time to nap, and I don't mind skipping dinner for this break. Ugh. *KO*
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Something light-hearted for a change. I'm one of many here that access MSN Messenger on a daily basis, no thanks to the automatic log-in that comes with it. Immediately after startup I get a smack from the MSN Messenger window, along with the onslaught of red and the mercifully small amount of green. It's not that I don't like many people, but I wouldn't think I would be able to handle the onslaught of conversation windows at one go. I don't know how people manage that, but I'm not confident that I can. But, curiosity struck me yesterday, which led me to a nice little question for you guys. How do you start a MSN conversation? My good friend and I have found a rather amusing way to do so. Ever since I got her contact on Messenger, I made it a point to chat with her when she comes online. One day, just for the sake of it, I typed in 'BOO!' Her reply: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!! (I don't know if there are enough exclamation marks. I think there were more.) It was the start of a tradition. Whoever who started up the window first had the privilege of scaring the other out of her wits, and probably out of her skin too. And when she found a cute ghost smiley to spice up her greeting, the amusement was better. It was not just my good friend who got 'BOO!'ed by me. My senior too had experienced shock after shock when I would surprise her with the customary greeting out of the blue. The 'LOL' and 'AAAH!' after that may not say much, but since I know that she's subdued when it comes to showing emotions, that's quite a something. And my other friends, oh my poor poor friends. And what's worse, even if we don't celebrate it, Halloween is coming, and drawing ever closer. So, sometimes, you should watch who you're adding onto your MSN Messenger Contact List. You may never know who will catch ya offguard. BOO!
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Lookit what I found a few days ago: Click here to see. Pardon my bad spriting and screenshot skills The wonder of a rating. See how much power it wields! How every vote counts. How one rating changes the average. How wonderful it is to be rated a nice rating. A perfect rating in fact. How disappointing it is to be down-graded. The Epic Critics Club is enjoying a slower pace to review epics. Thankfully, as critics who loyally keep reviewing on a constant basis have been pulled taut. What's more, I'm extremely grateful for the extra brains and opinions since, more or less, I've been doing most of the reviews on behalf of the club. I won't lie and say that it's a breezy task to hit a number of epics at a go. It's challenging. I don't mind if one of the newer members of our group overtakes me in time in being more active and posting up most of the reviews on behalf of the club, tackling the newer epics, going over every single one and seeing if her opinion is different and worth the mentioning. So much for that. Writings-wise, unfortunately my newest updates have received very little attention. I can shrug it off, even if it is a tad bit annoying. Many more fanauthors here face this problem, anyway. I am just hoping that I'd get a wave of reviews as I did before. Most authors would have their moment of famedom, so to say, that their stories get attention and reviews. We are passing fads, now I think of it. The 'onslaught' of epics would make us go estatic, and then it all fades. My first epic had an adequate number of hits. So did the second. The third is now ignored. My short stories face a similar scenario. In a series I just finished, the first story was a hit. The second was also reviewed, but noticeably less. The third story was understandably ignored due to its poor quality. The fourth and fifth were described as the better stories on the list. The last one was ignored, with only two reviews. I will not be put down, however. If it says anything more, it is a nice little reminder of a writer's work. It is bound to have a bombload of attention, or none at all. But I write because I love to write, sharing ideas and testing myself to see if I can describe, weave, tease, haunt, mystify, set pulses racing, evoke emotions and thoughts and so much more. So, I think I will sit down in a corner and think a little more, and see what I can put onto (digital) paper. And, of all times to think of this, I'm going to the Creative Writing Club's first official meeting in an hour or two! May the best writer weave and share. (Maybe it won't be me, but beh.) And I made my mind. I am going to undertake these as my co-curricular activities: - DJ Club, (LMK, you gave me a nice little knock in the head. Thanks for that. I should not have thought of it alone. I shared my opinions with others and, lo and behold, a fellow classmate who joined the CCA recently agrees with me! He's going just for the beat and tune, like me. So we'll stick together through the CCA. I'm a'stayin'.) - STAR for SMIT, (No, I'm not a star, nor a starlet, nor a five-point figure. STAR is short for Student Ambassadors. SMIT is the acronym for the school my polytechnic course is classified under: Media and Info-Tech. I will be promoting my course, dressed up in a nice suit, to youths who may have an interest in the course I'm taking. I'll also get co-curricular points which would boost my final grade nicely. Splenderific!) - and Creative Writing Club. (Writing and music are still my outlets of creation, talent and release. I treasure them greatly. So, if DJ Club is helping my music side, I think I should use writing as well to be an active outlet too. What's more, I may pick up some great tips, develop my ability to convey a story and write with wit and emotion. It will help me greatly, and my works may get published and I get paid for them!) That's it from me for now. A cup of sparkling white grape juice to the ratings, and a cookie to all of you for giving me this jolly little feeling.
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This is strange. Everyone's talking about it. If they were not talking about it, they talked about it recently. This is strange. I felt no different, sitting there, part of the conversation and the topic is of one that I felt, somehow, was only partly relevant to me now. Strange? Why should it be strange? It was school they were talking about. They were returning to school. They were slogging through their homework, and making a good note to mention that they have homework. And if it's not homework, for a few privileged some, I bet they'd be doing assignments, projects, or receiving grades for the past few assessments done before the break. Me? I'm rusting my butt off at home, three weeks into my holidays, and two more weeks to go. I feel so left out. Can't say anything else about that. I promised myself I won't pop myself about being bored, but I have to admit that I am. School seems like a lot of fun right now. I know I'll change my remark when it actually kicks in, but I remember I had fun doing the things the lecturer gave us to do. I attempted (note: attempted) to make a to-do list, and realised that I would never stick to it. I have things to do, lecture slides and notes to revise, a music exam to practise for, a song to ear-play for a pending school concert, a short story that is still in a need of proof-reading, an epic chapter to do at an unhurried pace, and critic work quota of the week to fill. Yet, I don't do those. I browse most happily on my own accord here on BZPower, and totally put those things aside. I like browsing here at my own will. It has the works. Unfortunately, when I read the blogs that people are going to school, and life is getting miserable for them, I end up pitying two parties: the bloggers and myself. Should I follow the online fad and write of my past complaints of school, before my current school? I probably shouldn't. It'd make me feel even worse for myself, and probably make the others smile a little in the middle of their fifth arithmetic problem. And, it would make me pine more for school. I think browsing here, and doing those extra duties I mentioned above will pacify me. For now. (Oh, may those two weeks SPEED!)
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We all have heard, not too long ago (factually on September the 4th) of a really tragic occurrence. Animal hero Steve Irwin passed away in an accident with a stingray. Now, no one can blame either party: Steve's incident is being scanned by the authority, and the animal was just trying to protect itself, even if it was hardly provoked. I was going to muse that it was an angsty femme that just wanted alone time and along came the Crocodile Hunter. Well, this post goes out to Steve-fans like me. This man was my 'sick' companion - when I fell ill, I'd turn to Animal Planet on the cable TV and watch the Crocodile Hunter at work with much amusement. I admit that once I nearly went into a fan-girl state with this bloke. I only returned from the Malaysia trip, the same day he got killed, and received the news at the stroke of midnight from my twin. I thought it was a hoax. It was no hoax. I'd miss the guy in khakis. I was worried about the family he left behind: wife, daughter and son; and his mates at the zoo. How were they going to cope? I can only pray for them to make it through this crisis. But I felt really guilty that I was not consuming a stingray two nights ago, nor tonight. And why is this post placed under the 'Online' category? The Being And The Beast How can a fan-girl let this event, the death of one of her stars, slip by without giving tribute to someone she had cherished as a voice of goodwill for animal conservationists, and the wildlife presenter she laughed along with and admired? So, the short story linked above is dedicated to him, and the family and friends he has left behind. I wish them the best. God bless and rest his soul. STEVE ROBERT IRWIN 22.2.1962 - 4.9.2006 The human spirit of the animal kingdom A true Australian bloke Passionate in his work and merry throughout his life
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Yesterday, I found myself romping through BZPower more than five times, quintuple the amount of visits I would've made to this site. This place has marked a special place in my memory for being the first ever forum I was an active member in, and I continue to be, given the feat I did above. And that I was bored. And today, this wonderful morning at nine-thirty, I proceeded to do the morning ritual: Boot up that laptop, and give BZPower a nice warm visit to see how things were doing. I was booted out. The offline message read of a limerick of Tahu. I tried again. I was booted out once more. Thinking a little deeper to the reason of this denial of entrance, I realised that now would be the peak traffic hours for the majority of the BZP population, most likely within a twelve-hour difference away from me. What a bummer. So I did a troopin' around the Internet, visiting some other websites of interest: Another forum I take part in, FanFiction.Net, my other blog, my friends' blogs, my blog again (It was a handy portal to travel around), fan websites, and even initiated a few chats with fellow polytechnic friends who were online in the early morning. And I returned to BZP. I was booted out once more. That led to harrowing rushes to the link, constantly demanding a way through, and meeting with failure with each try. Finally, at the eleventh try, I stumbled into the main forum page. I was practically jumping up and down in my seat. I clicked on the Library link. I was booted out. This was going to take a while...
