oceantheorem | (no subject)

One of my friends had a fit of contrariness last night. I think it was contagious, because I am having one now. I have an interview in two hours and have yet to shower, get dressed, buy coffee, and print out my resume. And my brain is thinking, rather loudly to itself, "Nonono, don't need to print resume, don't want this job anyway... go buy lots of coffee and then just sit and write for a few hours until the interview... you can wing it. In fact, don't even go to the interview. Just sit and write a novel today and sell it and then be rich and never interview anywhere again!"

It is also thinking that it's finished its book, and would like the sequel NOW please, so could Patrick Rothfuss hurry up and write the second one already?

Maybe it's not so much a fit of contrariness as it's a fit of "I wish it was a rainy day so I could sit inside curled up in a blanket reading"ness.

But alas. It is gorgeous outside.

Why am I still typing? *forces self to go get ready for interview*

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No, no, you need to go to the interview! /whipcrack
Who are you interviewing with?

So, you liked the Name of the Wind, eh? :)

The interview went really well. I'll tell you all about it in more detail later, but there's another entry up there *points to above this one* that says a little about my immediate reaction to it.

Name of the Wind was awesome. Can't wait for the next one.

Oh, he already wrote it. He submitted all (I'm guessing) 2500 pages at once. They're just sitting on the remainder to maximize profits.

DAMN the companies. Damn them to the depths of book hell. Where they will be forced to edit books submitted by 45-year-olds who write like 12-year-olds except with worse grammar and punctuation and no storylines whatsoever.

So, Twilight?