Last week on Tuesday I went to a concert at the Royal Albert Hall; my final Christmas present. As I sat a mere two seats away from my favorite classical composer, I thought 'this would make a good blog entry.' So here we are.

Strangely, Ludovico Einaudi (how dare blogger say his name is spelt wrong?) seems to be featuring certainly in my writing recently, although not to my knowledge at the time. He was born in Turin, Italy, which in turn is the name of one of my new characters with which I'm writing with at the moment (Turin, not Italy). Another one of my characters popped up in his new album, a shape shifter called Phoebe Labyrinth, in the second track of the album, Lady Labyrinth.

First off, he's very different. His music and style has been described as 'minimalist' and I think the term both fits very well and doesn't fit at all. On one hand, his music is so different and so pure that 'minimalist' seems to describe it very well. However, Einaudi's music doesn't belong in the minimalist category, I don't think, it's more... subtle than that.

I suppose you should listen to some before I continue. xD Here's one of my favorite tracks, anywho.

Every single track of his is absolutely amazing in it's own right. The track above, Indaco, is one of the beautiful ones. I don't think any other music compares, although Philip Glass would be the closest I've found so far, but even his music isn't as thought-provoking as Einaudi's.

His concert was fantastic. ^^' As we were only sat two seats away from him, I sometimes had to look back just to check the rest of the audience was actually there. He started with Lady Labyrinth, (see below) some more from Nightbook and went on to be joined by strings, and performed some of I Giorni and Primavera from Divenire. Then some more from Nightbook. Loved every minute of it. At the end he threw out flowers into the crowd, and he smiled at me and threw me one but the woman in front caught it ¬¬ Rawr.

Ahah! Hello again thar. It seems I took an unplanned and unpredicted break from blogging, for no other reason than I was starting to become very busy on the computer with editing and the many, many application emails.

But now I shall make my best efforts turn into something hopefully somewhat joyful/entertaining/painfully boring if you are half-empty/interesting blog. :D Hurrah *fireworks*

And a new layout has arrived on the red carpet! I took three hours out of my time that would not have been spent doing something useful otherwise to create my own layout with little sticky notes and notebook-like tables etc, and a pretty little Berlin background. However, my own layout was not half as good as this one I found, which looks much more professional and rather more exciting. So three hours down the drain, but I've still got that one and all the HTML code in reserve. ^^ I might mess around a bit with the background of it, but of course still keep the credits on etc.

So just a quick entry to say that I'm back and watch this space. ^^'

Yes, I've finished Nano.

Passed the 50,000 word mark on Saturday.

Still can't quite believe it.

And my novel is still not finished. I estimate it will be well over 70,000 words when I eventually finish it. (: And I shall enjoy every minute of it.

I can't say I've enjoyed every minute of this month of NaNoWriMo, but most of it. Most, not all. There have been difficult times, but the awesome times well make up for them.

Now for editing!

Hurrah. =___=

I shan't post the whole story anywhere yet, I'm not sure I'm ready to share it with anyone yet. Anywho, I shall have to finish it first and edit the whole thing. Probably will take me quite a while.

Hurrah, random happiness rocks :D

Back to the usual routine... Although I hardly know what to do on the computer anymore. o.o I haven't set any targets for my days anymore, even though I'm still writing it, but I just feel lost without them. Maybe I'll give myself a smaller target of words a day, like Frenchi suggested.

Maybe.

Although I must say, I am relatively enjoying my newfound freedom (:

Anywho, looking forward to December, which fortunately starts tomorrow! *waves Christmas tree branches madly* Hurrah! Can't wait for the 25th. It shall be awesome. Although I don't think I'm doing massively loads for the festive month, perhaps going to Camilla's party, as per usual every year, need something to wear. :/ Must go Christmas shopping.

As this November draws to a close, I wish everyone a Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas (I'm sure it's one of those.) and hope everyone is well. And I give myself a little clap for finishing my first NaNoWriMo.

~Illusionist

Yesterday was a very, very good night.

Went to the Royal Albert Hall to see Snow Patrol. Not only was I with two of my closest friends (although one was missing, wish you'd come, although I don't think you love SP ;3) but we went to see one of my favorite bands at the moment.

The RAH was an amazing venue, too, and a new experience for me- I'd only ever been to concerts like the Killers at outside venues like Hyde Park.

We'd got standing tickets right at the top; best view, in my opinion. 'Twas rather high (had to hug someone even tighter because of this, didn't mind though). I have a feeling my mother wouldn't have liked it.

They started with The Finish Line and finished with one I didn't know, if I can remember correctly. Feel free to correct me, either of you xD Favorites among all of the songs they played were You Could Be Happy, Chasing Cars, You're All I Have and Run (of course). Also we were lucky, Martha Wrainwright had turned up on the last night of SnowPatrol at the RAH, the night we were there, to sing alongside SP for Set The Fire To The Third Bar.

They also sang One Day Like This by Elbow. (:

I'd like to say thanks to you both for tagging along with me and enduring my occasionally pointless babblings. Although I tried to keep it to a minimum. You're my new concert buddies; maybe I'll try and get tickets for us all for Elbow or Coldplay next year.

Right, so, yes, NaNo.

Home stretch, as I've said before.

So I think it's time for another preview. Sit down on the carpet, children, and hope yha enjoy it! (: Remember again that this is completely unedited. Its a whole chapter this time, I forgive you if you don't read all of it xD

Here goes.

Stoermer was beginning to be rather startled by the two children, which was extremely unusual for an SS agent like himself.

He had already been relatively surprised as he had followed Lorelie and her friend almost half way across the city of Berlin in a single day, before it even got dark. Where on earth were they going? Were they just walking randomly, trying to confuse the SS perhaps? Did they think Stoermer was following them?

Still far too many questions and few little answers.

Stoermer would just have to listen.

He could remember his lessons well.

He had been temporarily transferred to New York, America.

Stoermer had never had much experience with the Americas; nor the people who lived there. After three days in the city of New York, he decided that he didn’t like Americans.

SS agents were taught to judge quickly but rationally.

Saved a lot of time in the field.

Of course, the Americans didn’t know he was from SS; neither did they know he was even from Germany. They didn’t know he was here in New York for a rather special training course.

He was here on the MN Ausbildung, S7.

An assassin’s course.

Of course, being an agent in the SS didn’t mean you could choose what you wanted to be. You couldn’t just be an assassin; couldn’t just be an officer. You had a duty to be all these things; and more.

But because Stoermer had been specially commended, he came to New York with only one course in mind.

Stoermer was not surprised that the multitude of the training was to be spent sat in a lecture theatre, watching one of the SS Generals instructed at the front, writing with white chalk on a black board.

The instructor was not a typical SS General, however. Stoermer found him more engaging than any other instructor he’d ever had before, which was certainly saying something, knowing the SS’s reputation for teaching. He found him easier to listen to, easier to learn from; and certainly fascinating to watch him deal with certain aspects of the class.

The class was very small; which was usually good news for an assassin’s training course. Less people to deal with, less people to get in your way. But their instructor, Kosov, had narrowed his dark blue eyes and gazed at us criticisingly as they’d filed for the first time into his lecture theatre, tapping his pen seemingly absently on the side of the front desk.

The first question he asked was an odd one. And not just because it was in English.

“How do you listen?”

Stoermer’s class of five was instantly silent. They were seated on the front row of the theatre, looking straight ahead. Stoermer narrowed his eyes, mirroring his new instructor, and evaluated his appearance. After a few quick heartbeats he decided to wait before making any assumptions.

Stoermer could speak perfect fluent English- it had been one of his requirements for himself once he had joined the SS Youth, the Jugend. The Commanders hadn’t put it down on his form that he had to speak English; but he found it extremely beneficial.

He could also speak fluent Russian, French, Icelandic and could just about understand Czechoslovakian.

He was sat at the end of the row of five students. Stoermer glanced quickly down the aisle, assessing each of the other SS agents swiftly. None of them looked very dangerous; but once again, he decided to wait before making any kind of assumptions.

He did, however, evaluate their facial expressions and body language as Kosov asked this first fundamental question.

The three students next to him didn’t look very confused- one frowned ever so slightly, another tightened their jaw, and the other drew their lips together into a tight line.

However, the student on the other end of the row looked bemused.

“Sprechen Sie Englisch?” Kosov said kindly, focusing his gentle gaze on the end row student.

They shook their head very, very slowly.

“Then you do not belong here. You have no future in the SS unless you can listen.” Kosov continued coldly, his eyes abruptly turning icy, knowing this student couldn’t understand a word he was saying. “You are lucky that I do not shoot you with the pistol I sure have in my pocket. You are very lucky to be alive.”

The student continued to stare at Kosov with a terrified but still confused expression. Stoermer drew in his breath sharply, but only watched the student at the end of the row out of the corner of his silver eyes. The other students didn’t dare turn their heads either.

“The simplicity of it is that you cannot understand what I am saying. And therefore fail to listen.” Kosov spoke with a dark kind of finality.

There was a tense moment of silence, and the student opened his mouth to speak. Stoermer willed him to shut up, but of course he didn’t.

“Ich lernen kann.” he pleaded desperately. Stoermer did not feel any kind of sympathy for him- why should he? This student had no idea that Kosov had just saved him a very messy death. He had no idea that Kosov had dismissed him in the first minute of the first class.

I can learn.

“No, you cannot learn.” their instructor continued icily. “You cannot learn to listen. You either can listen or you cannot listen. You cannot listen. Therefore you are dismissed.”

There was another moment of tense silence. Stoermer could see the student’s hands gripping the side of his seat, knuckles turning white. Stoermer wondered whether the student had gotten the message yet.

“Bitte, ich verstehe das nicht.” he pleaded.

Obviously not. What a shame.

Please, I don’t understand.

Stoermer saw Kosov sigh deeply through his nostrils. It was a heavy, resigned sigh.

“You brought this upon yourself.” he said, sounding bored. “I did not want to do this to you.” he paused, looking with his head slightly tilted at the single student, who sat trembling in his seat, having now idea of what was going on. Stoermer swallowed.

“You could have been useful. It’s always the good ones.” Kosov sighed.

In a swift movement, before any of the students had time to react, their instructor drew a dark black pistol and a single shot was fired, echoing off the walls of the large lecture theatre.

Stoermer still did not look to the left, but he felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face.

“Look, now I’ll have to call the cleanup crew.” Kosov said, almost exasperatedly.

The situation was humorous for half a heartbeat. Then it wasn’t, all of a sudden.

Stoermer had no doubt that the student who couldn’t speak English was dead. Shot in cold blood.

That gave him some idea of what the course was going to be like.

None of the other three students moved their heads to look at the slumped body of the student who had been shot.

Kosov had already put his pistol back into his SS issue trench coat pocket with another small sigh through his nose. “How do you listen?” he repeated, as if nothing had happened.

Stoermer was beginning to like him.

There was one of those moments of silence. A new air of respect had entered the room.

One of the other students hesitantly raised a hand.

“Yes?”

“You listen by learning other languages so you can hear everyone.” the student said nervously.

Another tense silence.

Stoermer could see the student’s hands tense anxiously.

“Good answer.” Kosov replied mildly. The whole class seemed to hold its breath, hardly daring to believe it.

“But definitely wrong.” he added.

The student’s eyes widened slightly.

“Dismissed.” Kosov said coldly.

This time the student understood him. He swiftly stood and left the room.

Stoermer didn’t watch him leave. His eyes were locked with Kosov’s. He didn’t shrink under the hawk-like gaze.

“How do you listen?” Kosov asked casually once again.

Stoermer didn’t hesitate in replying. “You listen once you have watched and waited. You listen by knowing. You listen by asking. You listen by trusting yourself. If you can listen you can know yourself.”

There was the longest tense silence yet, and Stoermer kept his calm silver gaze on Kosov’s cold dark blue eyes.

“What is your name?” Kosov asked suddenly.

“Vonich. Stoermer Vonich, sir.” Stoermer replied evenly.

The two students who were left turned their heads simultaneously to look at Stoermer.

Kosov looked at him thoughtfully. “Have you done an assassin’s course before?”

“No, sir.”

“Hm.” Kosov scrutinised him. “I think you will do well.”

Stoermer didn’t reply to the praise, just kept his gaze steady. The two other students, a male and a female, were staring at him.

Stoermer sighed through his nose. He could tell this was going to be a long course.

And yes I realise I am two days behind on the wordcount. I shall catch up :D

So I think it's time I gave everyone a preview of what I'm writing. Not a lot, and hopefully not revealing too much about it, but a little extract to give you a flavor of the novel. Please keep in mind that this is completely unedited o.o Here goes.

“We’re lost.”

“No, we are not lost, Freund.”

Lorelie and Kobel were stood on a platform as a train whooshed past them, blowing Lorelie’s hair across her face. She shivered and tucked it behind her ear. Then the underground platform was left empty, save for a man sat halfway down on a seat, bent over a newspaper. Grime and dust carpeted the curvature of the tunnel walls, and the dim lights overhead flickered constantly.

The two friends had left their home only an hour ago, and Lorelie was already deeply regretting the action. It was unlikely that a whole division of the SS would arrive in Berlin just to find her and her mother. And wasn’t secrecy their style? Shouldn’t they have burst in in the middle of the night and took them then?

Berlin’s underground system of trains was nothing less than totally confusing. Lorelie had only travelled on it a few times in her life, and now regretted their decision to travel by train. If only they’d had her mother with them; Madalena had been born in Berlin and lived there all her life, knew the city like the back of her hand.

“Look, we can’t be far from Potsdamer Platz.” Kobel said, frowning and peering closely at the little map he held in his hands.

“Sollen wir einfach jemanden fragen?” Lorelie gritted her teeth as she asked the question for the second time that day. Shouldn’t we just ask someone?

“Nein, Lorelie, können wir nicht.” Kobel replied seriously, not looking up from his map. No, Lorelie, we can’t. “Es ist noch zu großes Risiko.” It is too much of a risk.

He was right. Ask the wrong person and they could end up in the Gestapo’s possession. And that was at the bottom of Lorelie’s to-do list for now. They couldn’t know who to trust; if the rumours were to believed about Himmler’s Secret Police, they had spies everywhere to catch unwanted criminals out.

Suddenly Kobel sighed with frustration. “Where are we going anyway?”

“We need to find a place to sleep for tonight.” Lorelie swallowed, trying to think ahead. She hoisted her pack further up her shoulder as she spoke. “Then go from there.”

“We should go where they won’t expect us to be.” Kobel murmured, looking at the map again.

“Brandenburger Tor?” Lorelie suggested, hardly noticing the words coming out of her mouth.

Kobel looked up from the map again, and stared at her with wide and calculating dark blue eyes. He looked like he was thinking hard.

“That could be an idea.” he said slowly.

“They wouldn’t look there.” Lorelie pointed out. “And anyway, they will be too busy searching our homes tonight.”

She suddenly realised that the Gestapo would be inside her house. Tonight. Shoving her hands deeper into her pockets, she felt the reassuring shape of the diary in her inside pocket.

“Is there anywhere else?” Kobel sighed, scanning the map quickly.

“Underneath the S-line?”

The S-line was Berlin’s overground train transport system.

“Too risky,” Kobel shook his head. “They could look there. And it will be too wet.” he thought for a moment. Then he looked like he had an idea. “How about Arianna’s?”

Lorelie’s heart skipped a beat. If they found their way to Arianna’s house, they could actually be in warm beds tonight...

But as soon as she thought this she dismissed it instantly. “No, we can’t risk her being caught.”

Kobel sighed. “You are right. And anyway, that is too close to our own homes.”

Lorelie hesitated. “We still need to find someone who can read Russian.”

“She can, you said?”

She nodded. “At least, I think she can. Her father was born there.”

Kobel met her gaze. “Should we find her then?”

Lorelie hesitated again. “I don’t know. It could be too dangerous.”

“Let’s focus on finding somewhere to sleep tonight.” Kobel murmured, dropping his voice as another pedestrian strode by.

“Alright. Brandenburger Tor then?” Lorelie muttered, lowering her voice too. Although it was unlikely that anyone could understand them speaking in English. They both knew they were very lucky to be able to speak that language.

Kobel nodded.