I don't think they should go on a road trip. Every YA book these days has a fucking road trip.Yeah, I know. I like reading about road trips. I enjoy them. Sometimes. But...it's so predictable with the hijinks and the house parties and the unlikely meet-ups in diners (always some kitschy cute diner, never some crap-ola chain like IHOP or Perkins, either...)
There's way too much Rage Against The Machine on this iPod. It's popping up constantly on Shuffle.
Hm. But maybe they shouldn't have had the sex, then. I didn't mean for them to have sex. They just...did. And it was fairly revealing (not THAT way) to me about both of them. So. I dunno. Maybe they can have the same sex, but later on?
If that fucking kid throws that football up one more time I'm going to...I dunno. Nothing. Still.
Oh, god. I'm writing the YA version of Chasing Amy.
Okay, so maybe the whole story needs to start earlier. Ugh, god, that feels onerous. I don't want to narrate the fuck out of things. But then, maybe I'd get to show her friendships more clearly before everything smashes up in conflict? So it would be clear what was lost?
It's probably wrong to feel smug about passing people with disabilities or the elderly. Still.
I just hate writing the whole Between The Lockers kind of story. Being in the actual high school kinda grosses me out. Well, it's not gross. Just, I find it all dumb. The dramatic events of my adolescence didn't really occur in hallways or classrooms, but out of class. In the parking lot. At parties. On the phone at night. That kinda thing. That high school was pretty much secondary - the education, at least - was true for me, though I was studious and all.
Is this a mile? I know I said I'd do two, but I just kinda...yeah. I'm done.