((here you all go! Please don't laugh TOO hard, eh? :happy6: Moving along...!))
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....Inspiration often comes in the strangest, and most unusual packages.

Prologue



Dane Hatcher sighed, softly, into the cold air of his new home, and watched his breath   press between his lips in puffs of hot steam, left hanging over the surface of his breakfast table. After the nervous breakdown over the failure of his last attempt at a Novel, his publicist had suggested he move somewhere peaceful, perhaps the seaside, and relax, 'until his inspiration returned'. Dane, of course, had resignedly agreed, and left to move as soon as he'd -left-Jessica's office. He'd spent the last three days moving all his furniture by himself, down to the very last detail and picture frame, and he hadn't even bothered to have the heat turned on, yet; electricity, namely, for his computer, had been far more important. He'd wanted to get a head start on his next story as soon as it came to him. A shiver ran down his spine at the cold hanging in the house, and he winced, suddenly.

When he unclenched his tight fist,  not realizing he'd been squeezing hard enough to leave welts, he knew, though he'd never admit to such a thing, that said 'next story' was no where near coming. His moss-green eyes raised, slowly, to the back window; the exhausted writer peered out over the sea-side view, and could think of nothing more to do then frown, muttering quietly to himself.

"....What if my inspiration -never- returns, Jess'...? Y'gotta answer for that one...?"



Still shivering, albeit faintly, Dane pushed away from his table so violently that it sent the chair underneath him toppling into his kitchenette as soon as he was standing. Hr stalked into the adjoined livingroom, grabbing the paper from the coffeetable along the way, and slid, stiffly, into his favorite corner of his favorite black-and-white leather couch, flipping through the 'Bayhille Beach News' with feigned disinterest. The sting in his dominant hand protested each flip of flimsy, recycled paper, but, he pointedly ignored it, as he'd found himself on a page he hadn't expected to want to read.

The Classifieds.

Dane scowled at the adds for homes-for-sale, and lost pets...he half-closed the news paper, and peered over the top edge, as if he -knew- someone were outside his window, watching him feel lonely, and snickering at his childishness. When he found no unseen phantom, though, he let his eyes drop to the Room-mate-wanted section, and rubbed his thumb over the corner of the paper compulsively.

"....Maybe I should get myself a room-mate. People seem t'be D*** good inspiration t'most other people..."

None of the people showing themselves off verbally all over the Page sounded very inspirational, though. They were all so...mundane, and hopeful; puppies at a roadside sale, hopping around and waiting for some sucker to pay too much for them. After all of ten minutes, Dane gave up, and tossed the paper down by the couch, wearing the same scowl he'd worn since he'd woken up, freezing under his blankets, this morning. He slouched back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to wrench inspiration from the white, patternless of stucco, and pretended not to notice the persistent feeling of pain in his heart. Maybe the computer would ease his woes...



Hours later, after a lunch he hadn't really tasted, and a hot bath he hadn't really felt, Dane sat at the computer, his index finger absently clicking the 'F' key, over and over again, and he decided rather abruptly, that the entire day had been wasted. He read over all of the two paragraphs he'd managed to write out, slowly gaining back his anger from the morning, and only held himself back from swiping the LCD screen off the desk by biting his lip.

"...This is worthless. All of it. Worthless Sh**....", He hissed into the screen, standing up, presumably to find a book to read, or a TV show to watch. However, standing and glancing back at the computer resulted in the fine thread that was 'Dane Hatcher's Temper Line' to snap.

Soon, he found himself Screaming...at a piece of machinery.



".....THIS IS ALL COMPLETELY WORTHLESS!!! NONE OF IT SOUNDS RIGHT, ANYMORE! I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF F***ING NOWHERE, I'M FREEZING TO DEATH, AND I CAN'T EVEN WRITE THREE D*** PARAGRAPHS, ANYMORE!"

The rest of what the tired man said was illegible, and several words were in other languages; by the time he was done, he stood panting, arms at his side, head fallen. He smoked three cigarettes, still IN the house, left his computer on, beaming bright light into the wall, and gave up, for the remainder of the night. Dane brushed back strands of tangled black hair, not noticing the stubble across his jaw, and before he knew it, he was curled up on the couch with only the light of the lamp to comfort him. His knees were drawn to his chest, and he stared at the blank TV screen coldly until his eyes couldn't stay open, anymore.



The sobs echoing through the thin glass panes of his front windows startled him so much that he ended up, tumbled in a heap, on his brown bamboo rug, blinking Widely. He couldn't remember having fallen asleep...of course, he also couldn't remember any coastal animal he'd heard of as sounding quite so...ghastly.

"....D***it. Something just has to go and die on my front lawn, after all this."

Dane Hatcher didn't realize, though, as he stood, and headed for his front door, that his life was about to take a sudden and screeching change of direction.

Inspiration comes, after all, in the strangest, and most unusual packages.



Dane's package came the moment he opened his door.

Okay...so, almost No-one on this Forum knows me...BUT, I plan on changing this...

...By writing an absolutely Corny Angst!Fluff!Drama!Romance that will probably annoy the socks off everyone!! *evil laugh*

MWUAHAHAHAHA HAAA!!.....*cough*...erm...

...So, the prologue should be up by tonight; it only starts out with the first main character, Dane Hatcher.

.....You'll have to wait for his love-at-first-sight to wander in.....*giggle*

I hope someone reads it without laughing me off the forums!


PS---Random Opinion Question= Should this be in First person, with switching perspectives Between Dane and -----, or in third person ((he did this, she did that, etc...))... I really think First would work better with the pictures...but...

Alright...so, one of my houses seems to have a -wee- bit of a problem.....
...
...It's fallen into some weird time-loop, or something, and the ENTIRE house is Frozen. The clock doesn't advance, the Sims are NOT moving, and clicking the pause, play, and/or fast-forward buttons has no effect on this.

Now, is this just my computer being Dumb, or, do I have some hacks that are conflicting, somehow? My OTHER houses seem fine; they work. Is there any program I can use to determine if my Mods are conflicting and causing problems without systematically deleting all my content?

Thanks for anyone in advance who gives me help; I'm going out of my mind, here.

P.S.--Occasionally, Custom Content, like, necklaces//bows//bangles//fangs//horns show up as flashing blue boxes or shapes that break away from the Sims' bodies, instead of what they;re supposed to show up as. Once I use the hourglass in the Insimenator item-list, and pretend to give them a 'makeover', though, the content seems to reset itself and register, again....though, sometimes my Sims lose their eyebrows in the process O_o;; Any Advice?

I was wondering...

I'm no good at making meshes, or such, as of yet on the sims2, but...

I found these wonderful hairstyles, save that they're for women, and I need them fit for men. How does one go about changing the gender hair meshes originally fit onto?