Dreamers with empty hands may sigh for exotic lands

I'm feeling kinda poetic, which hasn't happened in forever. Or maybe it's wistful, I'm not sure.

I'm half-debating doing my NaNoNovel as a QE fanfic. Of course, I've never written fanfic. I don't like fanfic. I think it's impossible to write as someone else's chracter, real or ficticious -- it feels like psychological plagiarism, or something, just wrong in a way I can't totally put my finger on. So as much as the idea keeps popping into my head, I seriously doubt I'll do it.

I'm thinking I would like to do something in that vein, though -- maybe a tale of a metrosexual's metamorphosis from self-indifferent slacker to giveashitness (I made that word up, and I'm officially calling copywright on it -- you can use it, but I'd better see it as "giveashitness©" ;) ). I'm tempted to make the protagonist a female, 'cause I am one, obviously, so that'd be a bit easier to write. Then again, I don't want to veer into autobiographical territory, 'cause I did that last year, and it was a train wreck. I mean, I finished, but it totally blows. Maybe I should use a gay male. Or not. I have a hard time writing with characters that I'm not, 'cause I'm afraid I'll screw them up and be inadvertently insulting.

I'd really like to come up with something I can show people this time. It doesn't have to be a Great American Novel, but it should be somewhat readable (and clean -- no filling with sex scenes this time, especially since those aren't drawn from any experience, either).


I want to make something. Something good. Something gift-worthy.
I haven't a clue what that could possibly be.


Clearly, my brain is in a weird spot at the moment.


And I'm listening to Clay Aiken, and I don't know why. He's got a good voice, but his songs are so damned schlocky. But I'm listening anyway. I dunno.