sariagray: (MM: Betty Smoking Gun)
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Bacon.
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[Error: unknown template qotd](Apologies for the lack of cut - LJ keeps messing it up.)

I was in Biology class, third period, when it happened, I suppose. We had no idea what was going on, actually, as the teacher refused to turn on the TV. Someone came into the class late, and asked her to put it on, but she shook her head and kept on teaching. It didn't even register that anything that big was happening, at the time.
 
There was chatter about it as we went from third period to fourth, but I was fourteen, a freshman at the time who'd only been there a couple of weeks, and I generally kept my head down. Someone was talking about a movie, someone else was talking about the stock market, and none of it particularly interested me.
 
When I got to fourth period, French, our teacher was sitting down staring at the TV, unmoving. This wouldn't have shocked me so much, except Madame Bontemps (to this day, I swear her real name could not possibly be Goodtimes, but it is) always had far too much energy for her tiny body. I didn't know her that well at the time, but it was something I had already picked up on. She was bouncy. She was a bit daft in an adorable way, the kind of teacher to spend the whole period passionately explaining how prostitution in France is legal, and therefore they have unions and had access to condoms and healthcare. I absolutely loved her.
 
But I digress.
 
She was sitting there, still and quiet, just staring. She would hush anyone who spoke, which was very out of character, so all I saw was billowing smoke and I still had no idea what was going on and I couldn't ask. That, I think, was when the second plane hit. I'm not sure, I missed it, I was too busy trying to figure out what was happening through the age old art of note-passing.
 
The way the images on the news were, and the fact that there was no ticker at the bottom (I think there were technical difficulties at the time, or maybe it was just our shoddy classroom television sets), I didn't even know that this was New York until finally some clever classmate got the volume working and we could hear the newscasters.
 
My mother called my cell phone at the time, and told me that she was thinking of pulling me out of school. I thought she was insane, as I would have to walk (we only had one car) and I really didn't want to. Besides, the school was only a mile and a half away (if that) from our house and far sturdier. I remember yelling at her on the phone, in the girls' bathroom while others were smoking or crying, because she was being irrational.
 
There were a couple of kids in our school who had relatives in the city, in the general vicinity and the towers themselves. They were called out pretty quickly. But there were no major announcements, no early dismissals, nothing. Actually, I'm grateful. There was a quiet pragmaticism to it that I appreciated. The next morning, I vaguely remember an assembly, and we did something in memory every subsequent year.
 
Thinking back, I can't tell if that moment changed me. At fourteen, how can you know if something's completely altered your perception forever when everything is altering your perception? We were all unformed then, lost enough as it was and self-centered enough, too, to think it had nothing to do with us. To assume that we were completely above being affected. Would I be different today if that hadn't happened? Or if it had happened later or earlier in my life? I have no idea.
sariagray: (Default)
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I just...the title of this and the...? Huh!? *blinks sleepily* So, yes, I had to answer this. 

Anyway, Queen Elizabeth I, definitely. I have no idea what I'd ask - I think it would depend on the time of her reign in which I was dropped. I probably wouldn't ask a question, to be honest. There's nothing I can think of that I'd want to know that could be the answer to a simple question. I'd like to observe her, work with her, learn from her strength. And I doubt "Can I follow you around like a lost puppy for a lengthy period of time?" would go over well.

"Don't be frightened. What's your name? Favorite color? Song. Movie. Don't be nervous." No, wait, this is not Velvet Goldmine and I'm not going to be shagging her on a rooftop (rooftop shagging was not as common in the Elizabethan era?). Also, I know her name and there weren't any movies back then, so I'd have to change that to "play."

Ha! Maybe I'd go back and ask her, "If you could travel back in time and ask any deceased political figure (famous or infamous) a single question, who would you choose, and what would you ask?"

There. That. ;)
sariagray: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd] I am highly susceptible to suggestion and therefore, every book/movie/television show/musical anything in which I become even remotely absorbed becomes a iving force for my day-to-day endeavors. I think it also has something to do with the parts of my brain that focus on acting and writing. I used to work so hard at getting into people's headspaces that now I'm doing it almost out of habit. Not well, necessarily, but my brain has been trained to at least TRY. It was the most noticeable in high school - movies ranging from Schinder's List to Velvet Goldmine to Lord of the Rings would start to influence my behaviors, dress, speech patterns, even style of smoking. It's not quite the same thing, I know, especially as the characters weren't all admirable and, generally, it would be more of an encompassing thing. There are characters I admire, but I only emulate the traits I find desirable. I focus on this one's work ethic and that one's confidence and his compassion and her wit and so forth. It depends, too, upon the situation I'm in. I find myself thinking, for example, "be more like Tosh" while at work. A sort of guiding model for how I need to be. I guess none of this is actually the same at all. Oops?

WORDS!

Mar. 8th, 2011 03:15 pm
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I need 10 words from everybody. Well, anyone who wants to participate.

They can be any words; adjectives, nouns, verbs, pronouns...HELL, you can even give me conjunctions if you so choose.

Then I'm gonna put them ALL in a hat. And pull out ten. And write...things...with them....

So. Please help?
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It depends. Are we talking about my fan fiction or my original work?

And are we talking published in the way I publish things on here or, you know, it gets picked up by Random House?

If it were my original work and it were picked up by an actual publishing company, yeah, I'd be livid.

If it was fan fiction and picked up by an actual publishing company, I think I would be confused. Very, very confused. And a little bit pissed, of course, but mostly I'd be scratching my head.

If it were original and posted online, I would also be a bit confused, but more angry. 

And if it were fan fiction and posted online, well, I would just kindly point out that I had written it first. Honestly, I don't even know that I would notice.

But if someone stole an idea that I had, yeah, I'd probably kill them. Slowly. Is it weird that the thought of someone stealing my ideas is more frustrating and infuriating than someone stealing my actual work? Perhaps. *Sharpens the knife*
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[Error: unknown template qotd] Wine, poetry, harem, orchestra, chocolate, silk. *Blinks* What? Why are you looking at me like that?
sariagray: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd] Well. This will be revealing, I suppose. I really want a Hyundai Genesis or a Hyundai Santa Fe. I like big cars with lots of space. I also like curvy cars. And foreign! Foreign, curvy, luxury cars. Yes. Having driven on for a week, I also wouldn't say no to a Toyota Prius. Dark colors are preferable, except for the Santa Fe, which I would want to be powder blue. Yeah...I'm not very imaginative, am I?
sariagray: (Default)
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Once upon a time, when I was in middle school (which puts me at about 12 or 13 at the time, I think), I had been granted the nickname "Saria" when I dyed my hair green. Yes, I was nicknamed after the character in Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I am not ashamed. (Now, my hair at that point had been any and every color in the rainbow. But the green hair was the only color that prompted a nickname. Fate? Perhaps).

I don't recall how it's technically pronounced, but it rhymes with Daria when spoken by my compatriots (still, to this day - some things never change) mostly because I acted (er, act) like Daria.

AND because it's so similar to Sarai, who was the Biblical/Torah/Old Testament Sarah (my name) before Yahweh changed it as part of the covenant (I'm iffy on this whole bit). I have always maintained a silly fancy of "changing it back."

The Gray comes from my love of Oscar Wilde (i.e. Dorian Gray).

It has become a whole alias unto itself at this point. Hell, sometimes I forget and write "Saria" instead of my real name. This amuses many. That said, I don't think I would ever change it. It is as much a part of me as any other name I have been given. 
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Intelligent, poetic, mysterious, sarcastic, regal, compassionate.

Yep.

If found, please deliver to Saria Gray.
sariagray: (Default)
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I don't actually have writer's block. Okay, I kind of do, but that's not the point. 

I just saw this. And it made me laugh. And then it made me think.

Really, though. What would I do? Mostly, I'm a dirtyfastcheapinthebackroomwiththelightsdown kind of a writer. I don't think I could sustain for a whole season, let alone a series. Maybe a miniseries. MAYBE.

To be honest, I'm best at taking pre-existing things and turning them into something else (or, at least, shaping them a little differently). I have a ridiculous need to be poignant and still am not yet fearless in my writing. 

I know this is all about producing, but the ideas for writing and the ideas for producing aren't that dissimilar.

Time travel does appeal to me as a concept, but I'm really only ever interested in going to the past (and what does that say about me, I wonder?)

Okay, I got it. The show would be called The Antique Dealer's Daughter. The girl in question would be escaping her own past by uncovering history. Not in an educational way. It'd be more time-travelly and darker than that. Much darker. And by girl I meant young woman (I want the cast played by unknowns, thank you very much). She'll find a love interest at some not-her-own time. I'd want the fantasy so meshed with real life that it was indistinguishable, the focus on the relationships and adaptability of characters, which the traveling only a delightful vehicle. She would find out about her family and herself. Her father would be eccentric and a bit frightening, her mother a ghost of her former self, and her brother a sweet, kind, hilarious, and completely-useless-to-society sort of fellow. She'd be smart and funny while self-conscious and awkward and judgmental and occasionally cruel.

Actually, this sounds more like a movie. And the short story I wrote for my collection (mostly because I just hijacked my own title). And my own life because, aside from time travel and love interests, it IS. Hmm. Is that allowed?

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