En vrai les Jedis ils perdent un manteau par combat vu qu’ils le laissent toujours tomber et qu’ils le ramassent jamais, quel gâchis

au fond, j'ai jamais été sûre de rien dans la vie, j'ai jamais su faire les bons choix, j'ai jamais su avoir les bons mots. j'suis toujours dans le flou, l'incertitude.
mais dans le fond aussi, la seule chose dont j'ai jamais douté ; c'est toi.
j'suis désolée si j'te le montre mal, j'suis juste pas très douée mais j'te jure je t'aime. t'es comme une sorte d'évidence.
ME Fanfic Writing

Sometimes I worry I’m making Kaidan sound a bit too flowery or philosophical, then I remember he has a line, in game:

Can you feel it Shepard? 

The quickening?

And I think “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The story is compelling, and it cut off near the end of season one with a cliffhanger that was genuinely startling, not just for the speed with which it showed Will realizing that Hannibal was a devious killer (a twist most series would’ve saved for season two or three) but for the way it messed with our collective image of Lecter as the killer from The Silence of the Lambs, an incarcerated fiend dispensing bons mots to visiting FBI agents. In season one, Hannibal frames Will for murders that Hannibal himself committed or abetted, to the point of literally planting an incriminating ear inside Will’s alimentary canal; at the start of season two, Hannibal takes Will’s place as FBI profiler and occasionally visits him behind bars to ask for his “help” with ongoing cases, inquire about his well-being, and otherwise glean information that can permit him to sustain his deception.

Intriguing as these variations are, though, they’re not the source of Hannibal’s specialness; in fact, Fox’s much dumber and clumsier serial-killer drama The Following pulls off similarly “shocking” twists each and every week, in its determination to be Se7en meets 24, or some such thing. It’s a classic example of script-delivery TV, signaling every scare with a shrieking music cue, covering action and dialogue with multiple shaky cameras, and otherwise behaving as if horror’s only purpose is to set up sledgehammer-obvious scares. Hannibal, in contrast, approaches similar subject matter in a thoughtful way. It does not restrict itself to The Following’s tedious binary of “Something horrible is about to happen” and “Oh my God, that was horrible!” You could say it’s as close as a broadcast network has gotten to the personal artistry of the best premium-cable shows, if it weren’t bolder and more elegant than anything on pay cable right now, including HBO’s own serial-killer drama, True Detective.
Tittle (ate artlessness for brunch)

Just to jot and dash for fun in a punctuation of atypical articulation with relief of graphic nonsense-

Bahs, oozey onomatopoeia crash session jammin’ verbal freestyle
unpitted plummy plotless blottage preserving no linear form for posterity

Have an applebutterbash, biscuitcrumbles and it’s mere trifles- not to be pudding it mildly, lit but crossed teetotalerly I sober in arsonist flaming of intellectual intent

-allowed to smoulder in madness but never given leave to carry the torch beyond lines’ abstraction-

Here, have no halfhearted Gothic freize- ing your soul, rather blended, shake in stirring spirit soulstucco frescoes on walls paged over in dismissive finger-flicks from screens screaming insignificance streamed overflowing mental banks of interest

eroded by too many instant stills’ flood to tide the brackish indifferent moment..

Countered culture, starter ferment bubbling brassy mettle unmade molten set to grave and etch in mind

An impulsive impasto of impression scribbled digitally in careless keystrokes as if fingerpainting in black & white were as easily ordered to fall in Pollock-stylus spatters of consciousness randomly spewed.

Chewed up thoughts author-iteration and spat them in masticated musings’ multimedia mess-ages of instant gratification disgorged,
If smacking out loud grosses you out that makes two of us.

Happy Birthday, Holly Black, born 10 November 1971

Seven Quotes

  1. Every hero is the villain of his own story.
  2. My dream dinner party is William Butler Yeats who is going to talk to me about poetry, faerie folklore, the Order of the Golden Dawn and the various ladies he’s in love with; Terri Windling, because she is kind and wise and a fabulous writer and editor who I don’t see nearly enough of; and Oscar Wilde because I know he’d be fascinating and I’m sure he would enliven the whole thing with his bon mots.
  3. I try to write a thousand words every day. I’ve actually put up my daily word counts online for my last several novels. I do this to keep myself honest, saying exactly when I wrote what part of the book. 
  4. Memory is slippery. It bends to our understanding of the world, twists to accommodate our prejudices. It is unreliable. Witnesses seldom remember the same things. They identify the wrong people. They give us the details of events that never happened. Memory is slippery, but my memories suddenly feel slipperier.
  5. Changing is what people do when they have no options left.
  6. Librarians are hot. They have knowledge and power over their domain…It is no coincidence how many librarians are portrayed as having a passionate interior, hidden by a cool layer of reserve. Aren’t books like that? On the shelf, their calm covers belie the intense experience of reading one. Reading inflames the soul. Now, what sort of person would be the keeper of such books?
  7. We are, largely, who we remember ourselves to be. That’s why habits are so hard to break. If we know ourselves to be liars, we expect not to tell the truth. If we think of ourselves as honest, we try harder.

Black is an American writer and editor. She is best known for The Spiderwick Chronicles and the Modern Tale of Faerie trilogy. Her 2013 novel Doll Bones was named a Newbery Medal honor book.

Source for Image

by Amanda Patterson for Writers Write