HOBBITS ARE RACIST

happy monday everyone!

SO I FOUND RACIST HOBBITS THIS WEEKEND.

yes, that's right. hobbits! racist! @tanagandhi & @razberry28 and i were strolling along rather innocently, searching for a place to eat, when LO AND BEHOLD, we come upon a restaurant called The Hobbit. color us intrigued, dear friends. COLOR US INTRIGUED. we decided we would give The Hobbit a chance. we decided we would DINE at The Hobbit. we decided we would give The Hobbit our hard-earned monies in exchange for the satiation of our hunger!

AND YET! WE COULDN'T FIND A WAY INSIDE.

The Hobbit had a very distinct (and rather beautiful) entryway -- secluded, covered in vines, stained glass windows and a set of very deep, dark wood doors. business hours stated that The Hobbit was open for hungry travelers! but, alas, the doors were sealed shut. there was a piece of paper taped to the adjacent brick wall that said the main entrance was around back, and that we should "Ring the bell for assistance."

BUT THERE WAS NO BACK ENTRANCE TO BE FOUND.

we rounded and rounded the building to no avail until we noticed small, crumbly looking windows (PERFECT FOR SMALL, CRUMBLY HOBBITS!) and one tiny-looking door (PERFECT FOR TINY-LOOKING HOBBITS!) about an inch from the ground, smudged with dirt and decay. and upon closer inspection? we noticed a pair of storm cellar doors surrounded by dead shrubbery, seemingly useless and entirely clamped shut. the doors were half-covered by an old sign with the words "The Hobbit" emblazoned across the wooden plank. 

we assumed this was the back entrance the earlier note was referring to.

AND THEN WE RAN FOR OUR LIVES.

upon reflection, we discovered three things:

1. Hobbits definitely exist.

2. Hobbits are the sketchiest creatures ever.

3. HOBBITS ARE TOTALLY RACIST on account of their not allowing regular human-sized people into their restaurants, and also because of this:

actual photo taken with actual camera not belonging to a hobbit.

ahem.

how was YOUR weekend?

------

UPDATE: i kid you not, dear friends, WITHIN MINUTES of me posting this? someone from New Zealand (NEW ZEALAND IS TOTES HOBBIT COUNTRY, JUST FYI) searched keywords "The Hobbit" and came across my blog. if this isn't proof that hobbits are now watching and tracking my every move, i don't know what is.

evidence: 

A ROYAL PAIN IN MY TITLE

SO.
TITLES.

how do we feel about them? are they effective? insignificant? important enough to agonize over?
sometimes titles present themselves almost magically. other times? not so much.

oh, Eleanor. this was a bad idea.

how do YOU decide on a title for your book? 
and, if you're willing, why not share the title of your own manuscript/WIP/SNI?

HAPPY FRIDAY, DEAR FRIENDS!

i hope your weekend is filled to the brim with daffodils.

<3

I HOPE JUSTIN BIEBER'S HAIR EATS YOU FOR BREAKFAST

TOTALLY BLOGGING FROM A ZILLION FEET IN THE AIR RIGHT NOW AND IT'S TOTALLY BLOWING MY MIND SO INCREDIBLEEEEEEEE OMG OMG HYPERVENTILATION

(LOOK MOM, I'M FLYING!!!)

okay, so,  if i didn't already mention it, I AM ON A PLANE, IN THE SKY, SITTING IN A CHAIR, IN THE PLANE, IN THE SKY (IN THE SKY!!!) (STILL TOTALLY IN THE SKY!) on my way back to the 80 degree weather of Southern California.

and for the first time ever, i think i now finally understand why it's so annoying to hear people say things like OMG 80 DEGREE WEATHER IN JANUARY YOU'RE SO JEALOUS HAHAHA JK JK I'M SURE NORTH DAKOTA FEELS GOOD TOO LMAO JK JK when you're trapped in freezing temperatures. that is kind of how i felt today.

i mean, don't get me wrong, i definitely love the cold (WHERE ELSE TO WEAR ALL MY COATS AND BOOTS, HMMMM?) but when you lose feeling in all of your extremities and open up your twitter account in an accidental attempt to open up the MAP application on your phone (BECAUSE YOU ARE DESPERATELY SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE COLD AND HOPING SOMEONE WILL SERVE YOU AN ABSURDLY EXCELLENT LATTE VERY VERY SOON) only to read tweets like, "OH HEE HEE GOING TO THE BEACH TODAY! TOTES WORKING ON MY TAN TODAY! GOD IT'S SO WARM TODAY! HEE HEE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA LET'S GET MARRIAGED AND HAVE SUNNY LITTLE BABIES WHILE WE SIP SELTZER WATER BY THE BAY TODAY HEE HEE!" this is what i am literally thinking:

i hope Justin Bieber's hair eats you for breakfast.

so it is my promise to you, dear friends, that i will never ever again be that person, not even accidentally, because those tweets are CRUEL! AND COLD! AND CRUEL!

and anyway, i still like the cold.

ANYHOW! i will (hopefully soon) write up a snazzy blogpost about NYC adventures (OF WHICH THERE WERE MANY! and so EXCITING!  and HEY OMG DID I MENTION I'M IN THE SKY?? I KNOW! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT EITHER!) but seeing as how i'm currently in the sky, i have to focus on that element of my life right now. it's kind of a lot of pressure to have internet access in the sky. it's like i need to do something really profound right about now. like maybe invent something. or discover a planet. or, you know, eat a lot of Skittles. all while IN THE SKY

SO I WILL LEAVE YOU WITH THIS VIDEO.
because it is hilarious. and also because i am sitting in a chair IN THE SKYYYYYYYYYY



EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

STILL FLYINGGGGGGGGGGGG

<3

5 REALLY EXCITING WAYS TO USE A SEMICOLON

YOUR IMAGINATION IS LIKE DARTH VADER

the imagination is a wonderful thing.

the imagination is a spectacular little treasure as long as it's helping us write our books. as long as we're typing away like crazy people, locked up in our rooms, trying to convince the cats and the kids to leave us alone long enough to finish a sentence, the imagination enables us to live in an alternate universe without ever having to be abducted by aliens. it teaches us how to expand our horizons -- how to see past the confines of human limitations -- without ever resorting to hard drugs! we are superhuman! prodigal! we write books! we read books!

we are a special breed, indeed. 
sometimes we rhyme without even intending to.

and yet. despite its many splendid ways, the human imagination has a dark side. it's like Darth Vader showing up to your 16th birthday party wearing a unicorn mask and you totally think he's a unicorn until he's all LUKE, I AM YOUR FATHER* and i definitely didn't pay child support all these years so maybe don't tell anyone about this? and you're so shocked he's not a unicorn that you fail to point out that your name isn't even Luke.

the imagination is tricky like that.

sure, maybe you see glimpses of the dark side of your imagination while you're writing the book, but the moment you finish? the moment you finish the book is the moment your imagination really turns on you. all of a sudden it's cutting off your arm with this weird laser sword and talking to you in this breathy robotic voice about your origins and you're screaming (maybe because of the arm thing, not sure) and it all kind of spirals downward from there.

your imagination is shouting things like YOUR BOOK SUCKS! and NO ONE WILL LOVE YOU! this isn't a business, IT'S TOTALLY PERSONAL! and here are ALL OF THE THINGS i've imagined people will say about how much YOUR BOOK SUCKS! and it totally sucks DID I MENTION THAT YET?

and then you'll fight it off and fight it off and then you'll send your manuscript to beta readers and then what? then the imagination is back again! imagining in your mind exactly how horrible your writing really is and just how much your beta readers hate your book and OMG YOU FORGOT TO PUT A PLOT IN THE STORY and before you know it your head is stuffed full of nonsense and ridiculousness and everything feels sticky.

and you'll fight it off.

and then it comes time for revision and there you go again, imagining things that have nothing to do with the success of your novel. suddenly you're imagining how you'll never be able to fix this book, how you'll never be able to edit it properly, how you'll never land an agent or a book deal and then you imagine yourself alone in your neighbors' attic, surrounded by 27 cats who all fall asleep on your face one night and suffocate you in your sleep. all because of your imagination.

and then you fight it off.

and then you have an agent and your imagination freaks you the hell out about being on submission and you can't sleep or eat or use the bathroom anymore and things are really starting to get uncomfortable and you don't know what to do so you just imagine some more. and you imagine so much that you never fall asleep and then you wake up exhausted and spend the day imagining what it would be like to sleep and THIS STUPID IMAGINATION JUST WON'T LEAVE YOU THE HELL ALONE

and then you realize you and your imagination need to be in an open relationship where you are actively seeing other people, namely your therapist and your priest. 

IT'S TIME TO SCHEDULE AN INTERVENTION.

i've seen a lot of writers go through this -- we've all gone through this.
but i want to remind you that you can imagine anything in the world. 
which means that you can imagine yourself imagining away your fear, too.

happy tuesday, my friends.

don't be afraid of your imagination.
don't be afraid to be awesome.

also i hope you sucker punch your imagination in the eyeball.

<3





*okay, so i actually watched this part of the movie? and he doesn't even say, "Luke, I am your father." he just says, "I am your father." so i don't know where the "Luke" part of this famous line came from.