dee - viscerate.com

GIRL
Diana Evans
called Dee
since May 25th, 1980
terrorising inner-city Melbourne
consuming flat whites
producing words, hers and other people's
contact dee [at] viscerate [dot] com

SITE
viscerate.com
consisting of personal reflections
photography by Amy Q
archives here

Friday, September 07, 2001

This week - in two days, in fact, Tuesday and today - I have written some 9 pages, or 2500 words, of the Novel. Nothing, right? Yeah, well, considering last week, and pretty much all the weeks before that, I had written precisely zilch that wasn't fanfic, I am feeling pretty good about this.

I'm on a roll. And what's more, I'm on a crunching-writer's-block-and-the-internal-critic-beneath-my-bootheel roll. It's pretty bad, what I'm writing. Talking heads and no descriptions, but I'm just getting down the action, the basic skeleton and a hint of cosmetics. I can come back and enflesh and clothe the thing later. For now, I just want to get a first draft done. I can write a whole novel. I know I can. I have done it before.

I will do it again.

8:17 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Note: 'Revolting Cocks' provide surprisingly good music to write to.

David Bowie does not, due to my propensity to wiggle about and dance to it.

2:56 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Honestly, they really shouldn't colour the ponds for Open Day. They insist on doing it every year. It looks pretty good on the day, with the little pools of water bright and happy. But then as time passes, they get darker. So now the blue one looks quite unnatural, but in a relatively normal way. The red one looks like some sort of horrible murder has been committed in it. And the yellow one.... er, well... it looks like we've been visited by a flock of incontinent mammals with kidney disease. Ahem. Pond clean-out is in order, I think.

2:39 PM - link to this - (0) comments

The phone has rung three times in the last five minutes. What made me so popular all of a sudden? Two hang-ups - one post and one pre-answer. Am I being stalked? Well, if I am, then he's closing in, because one was external, and one internal.

Meanwhile, I want to go to
this, or maybe this. They just sound... well, excellent. Inspiring, exciting, gripping, useful. Of course, there's always the Australian version, but it only goes for 5 sodding days (as opposed to six weeks).

Oh, for a few thousand spendable dollars...

11:32 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Today feels like Germany, and I'm not sure why. I had Vegemite for breakfast, so it can't be that.

9:28 AM - link to this - (0) comments

Wednesday, September 05, 2001

Everyone should be a whore for the Princess Bride, dammit.

(This is much more interesting taken wholly out of context, without the reference to the original point as made by
Melissa, from whom you should all learn.)

11:23 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Via my friend Ry, from the Sydney Morning Herald of... Saturday just gone, I believe:
We must congratulate the Prime Minister on his bold plan, which is as brilliant as it is obvious.
Step 1: The SAS take the Tampa into international waters. This act of piracy puts us at war with Norway.
Step 2: The SAS, cleverly left on board for this purpose, immediately surrender on our behalf to the captain and we all become Norwegian subjects.
Step 3: This takes care of the pesky republicans; after all, who can object to King Haakon!
Step 4: We automatically become citizens of the European Union.
Step 5: Our farmers receive the massive EU subsidies and the EU market opens!
Step 6: All rural seats go Coalition, by a landslide.
--Tom Torda,
--Double Bay, August 31

12:19 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Tuesday, September 04, 2001

I believe this would be an appropriate juncture to note how boggling it is to visit the website of a publication supposedly connected to a university program which (also supposedly) teaches web-site design... and then get stuck in frames.

I Am Surrounded By Morons!

Yes, the cry is back. In full force.

But anyway, I take solace in the fact that though I am considering this course, it is not for the web-design elements, but rather for the editing and creative writing aspects. It sounds wonderful. It sounds like just what I want. It sounds like it can get me the job I want. And it sounds unbelievably cheap. There has to be a hitch...

Oh yeah, I have to move to Melbourne.

7:26 PM - link to this - (0) comments

The typed pages of Novel-planning smell like a book. This, I find reassuring.

Yes, I am pulling it out, stretching my mind, entangling my fingers in the details once again. Determination, driven by the usual source. The new releases of
HarperCollins, including so many new authors and books, and I experience a surge of covetousness.

Mine. It's purely visceral. I want it.

Now, I guess, we see whether I want it enough.

3:57 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Sunday, September 02, 2001

9. Pray... select a word describing your inner feelings: (Urgency, Escape, Mellowing, Togetherness, Confusion, Questions, Reflection, Accomplishment, Stability.) Dee goes looking for the non-existent option: Abstinence.

Incidentally, this is what comes of getting the
Grim Reaper to guess my age. He said I was 24. Three years off ain't bad, I guess. I really don't want to be 24, but that's my own bag of issues.

Link from Megsy-Wegsy.

9:11 PM - link to this - (0) comments

Today is Father's Day. So I'm taking a break from Machiavelli to say this:

My father is a wonderful man. A wonderful, brilliant, awe-inspiring man.

He is laid-back, prioritised, unregretful, full of life. I try to emulate him. I feel bad when I don't live up to him. I feel terrible when I disappoint him, in a way that just doesn't happen with my mother. My mother rants, raves, and has to order me multiple times to do something. My father need only ask, or even merely suggest, and I will leap to do it.

I am my father's fourth child, my mother's first. I am my mother's only child, but merely my father's youngest. He always respects me. He is always assured of my ability to think and act in a sensible manner. He is the source of a great deal of my own self-confidence, both consciously and unconsciously. He is warmth and stability and comfort. He is the rock upon which the edifice of my life is built.

I love you, Dad. Just wanted you to know that.

12:45 PM - link to this - (0) comments