Korean Drama Fix

Just finished watching the 1st episode of “I Hear Your Voice” Blew me away. Completely well written and about a topic I hold dear, telling the truth no matter what the cost to self. I can easily see myself getting totally into this one.

Just finished watching the final episode of “Love Myself,or You” very sweet ending. I can really see the difference between Taiwanese drama and Korean. In Taiwanese dramas they like a tidy Love package,everyone ending up better than they began. In Korean dramas, there is always a loser in love, someone who has regrets and longing.

Currently, I am watching “Blademan” and “My Lovely Girl”, both have me checking constantly for new episodes.

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What’s it like, being a writer?

Seriously though, I have the freaking coolest friends.

(Excerpt found here remains completely the sole rights of Clarissa Johal.)

Clarissa Johal:Writer

“What’s it like, being a writer?

I seem to be asked that a lot. Well folks, it’s a lot of signing autographs and hearing readers tell you how awesome you are. It’s receiving huge royalty checks from publishers who deem you indispensable. It’s full of massive amounts of glitz and glam and feeling loved 24/7…

Actually, that’s crap. Let’s get real—what’s it really like to be writer?

It means you wake up with, shower, dine and go to bed with your characters. It gets a little crowded from time-to-time.

It means taking nothing personal when it comes to editing and everything personal when it comes to reviews.

It means your mind is constantly writing sentences—even when you’re sleeping. I’ve woken with full paragraphs in my head. Sleep is for the weak.

It means working longer hours than 99% of the population and for less than minimum wage…and being okay with that.

It means the Writing Chair is yours, and yours alone. Because writing somewhere else doesn’t feel the same—just don’t talk to me. And get the hell out of my Chair.

It means struggling with a constant feeling of inadequacy.

It means you carry a constant paranoia that people will read (unfinished) work over your shoulder vs. the same paranoia they won’t read your (finished) work at all.

It’s a constant pull between Doing What You Love (writing) and Feeling Like an Obnoxious Brat (promoting)

It means hoping people understand that you’re a little quirky but mostly harmless.

It means when people hear you talking to yourself, you’re really not. Your characters are real people, duh.

I love being a writer. I eat, sleep and breathe my characters and stories. I write—not with the goal of “being rich someday,” but with the goal that my readers will look forward to my next book an love the last one they read. When a reader says one of my books “stuck with them” and was “unlike any story they’ve read” it gives me a high that lasts for weeks. On the days I’m struggling and wonder if my stories matter to anyone other than myself, a comment like that will bring tears to my eyes. And I know deep in my heart that if I didn’t write, I’d go cuckoo.

“That’s what being a writer is like.”

I am planning on introducing all my amazing friends in the next few weeks…cause, they amaze me with their creative talent, and I want to be just like them when I grow up.

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Time makes a good pen

Time makes a good pen
by M.M.Clendon

A lot of truths here.
They begin to tap
you upon the shoulder
with a persistence
of drumming fingers,
and while you can’t ignore
those hands
that play out so much,
you can begin to live,
with their off-beat rhythms.

They may even have
their own strain of music.

Still, I know one thing,
and that is,
when the doubts creep in,
from around the corner
and the confidence wanes
in the bottom of a coffee cup
(somehow it now
has a hairline crack in it
that you never noticed before)
that is when you should
take stock of what
you have achieved thus far
and take that moment
to quietly celebrate.

Yes, remember to do that.
No one is ever remembered
for putting nothing out there.

Keep on creating,
until the last clock has ticked
and time is no more.
Even then,
Snap that minute hand off,
and dip it in ink.
Time makes a good pen.

(It may show blotches,but it is forever yours)

~
~(Created from a letter by M.M.Clendon, into a poem..it just felt like it needed to be a poem..hope he doesn’t mind the slight adaptations)

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In a fit of dorky boredom

I took a series of laughing at myself pics. I had way more fun than I should admit.

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Rain Bi

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I am always such a sucker for Rain Bi…

He can dance
He is incredibly sexy
He has beautiful eyes and hands
He was freaking awesome in Ninja Assassin
He signed up for his three years of military service without using his connections to get out of it.
The man can act
His kiss scenes are smoking hot
He can sing
Oh, and he loves dogs.

Dammit just let me sign the fan contract already….sheesh.

I am just a woman after all.

Ps..Keanu still bears him out, mostly because I’ve known him longer, he is older than me ( and thus not off limits), and he did awesome first. :)

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Post it note confessions

Bits of memory you left me.

Like scribbles on paper,

uncovered in unexpected moments.

Captured by my fingertips.

Snagged by my unconscious.

Unwrapped slowly by my torturous need

to remember, even as my heart shreds me.

I ball up each thought of you,

into the tiniest scrap of paper, I relegate you.

Toss your smile into the farthest corner

my wrist can fling,

and try not to imagine the memory of your laughter

as it follows the paper trails

under my bed.

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Dear, Typewriter collector

Dear Typewriter, I am sorry for all that has been happening to you. It must be hard balancing life and lessons whilst also dealing with the drawbacks of doing well. I am trying to balance too, but I am hardly good at it. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever find the hopes I am dreaming of having, I bet you wonder about things like that too.

I long for my own place to belong. I don’t need much really, a place to decorate and call my own. A place to scream, or cry, or dance happily. I don’t have that place yet, but I will know it when I see it.

I don’t hate my now, it has given me the starting place for my tomorrow’s,  I just want to move forward again.

I hope you are ok, that these setbacks have not made you regret your own face in the mirror. Let us keep going, ok? If you can, I can.

Bekki

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