Showing posts from June, 2010

Randomness on a Friday night

I'm not sure how many of you, since you've hit over drinking age, have run amok in playgrounds meant for children at least a decade and a half younger than you, (amok in a completely sober, legal, clothed kind of way)--but it's actually quite fun and oddly magical.

Especially if it's a Friday night, there's a full moon, and you've successfully convinced your friend (who hates bridges) to cross a footbridge that goes over the Grand Central Parkway. Well, three of my high school friends and I did just that this past Friday and I wanted to jot it down because it was random as hell. None of us know any bars there-at least not one that wouldn't be extremely crowded--and we hadn't seen each other in a while, so we wanted to talk and not shout at each other. Somehow we ended up in the park.
The Jurassic playground is dinosaur-themed. It has two or three of those play-monkey bars-slide combos and swings (baby swings, too) and a sprinkler! Whoo-hoo!
The fact that …

WTF Boston? 2

I think everyone has heard of Boston drivers. They are notorious. The Roommate, who hails from NH, once confirmed for me that up there, they can tell when a person is from Massachusetts by their driving.
To quote from wikiTravel's page on Boston: As mentioned above, Boston area drivers are not known for their courtesy or consideration for others around them. Pedestrians should use crosswalks and exercise considerable caution when crossing streets. Assume the drivers are *trying* to hit you.
In that spirit, here is this week's WTF Boston?
This pic was snapped by Sonal, the second time we saw a car (plus one motorcycle) driving on a sidewalk in Boston. This car was driving off a sidewalk on a corner of Tremont Street and School Street.

WTF Boston?

So, some of you may have seen, I'm back in retail. It's a shit job with not-so-great pay and I'm not planning on being there for very long--I hope that with a lot of legwork, I'll find My Editorial Assistant Dream Job soon.

Or, you know, get a job at a bookstore.
I went to Boston from Sunday to Wednesday and along with revisiting stomping grounds, seeing lots of new things, storing things away for the novel's Boston portion, I came away with lots of weird pictures of weird happenings in Boston.
Thus, the first of a new weekly installment (as long as we have photos) called WTF Boston?

This was taken in the back of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Anyone know the sculptor or just...why?


So this is a blog on critiques, specifically giving them. Interesting, interesting. The blogger linked in a page of a manuscript she had a crit buddy read. Her favorite comment from her friend? "Ruh roh."

Synopses Are The Devil. And Other Thoughts.

I've wondered if the story is too complicated (which it probably is--soul swapping plus past "it's complicated" relationship plus family discord plus dead parents who killed themselves...).
I think about the books I like. Atonement, my favorite book, is not exactly a walk in the park. It's painful and hard to read in parts and the twist at the end puts everything into perspective--but it can be boiled down to "In 1935 England, 13-year-old Briony sees her sister take off her clothes outside in front of the housekeeper's son Robbie. Not understanding adult emotions and having an overactive imagination, Briony later accuses Robbie of raping her cousin, sending the innocent man to jail, then the army, where he marches across France toward Dunkirk. From that moment in 1935 on, Briony writes and rewrites the events, striving to understand what happened and to atone for how she ruined Robbie and her sister Cecilia's life."
Then there's The Lovely Bo…

Synopsis--Version 1

As with any other version 1, this isn't exactly bug-free. It's also vague, doesn't cover all storylines or characters, or give character motivations. From what I've read about synopses and what I've read on my own through internship, it's a quick summary, written in present-tense, in the same style as the book, detailing the main plot line.
EVA FONTAINE wakes up one night confused and alone—and a completely different person. It started when she walked out of her brother’s rehearsal dinner, after seeing her estranged father for the first time in many years. Then there was an unfortunate collision in a Boston street with a car. Waking up in a strange room, Eva thinks she’s home, in Paris, before realizing that she’s in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Instead of her own hazel eyes, olive skin, and brown hair, she sees a taller, blonder, paler person in the mirror. Eva flees the room, panicked, and encounters her childhood friend, erstwhile lover, and father …