So people might believe after that last post that I was well on my way to finishing my writing work. Well, here I am again before you- stuck yet again. But maybe I write this utter defeat too soon. After all, I did have homework and outlining that lasted many hours, participated in family eating-out night today, and had my blood drawn early this morning. I don't really know what drawing blood has to do with my writing habits, but I'm sure it has to be related somehow, right? What else would science be for but to justify every one of my points? Anyway, maybe I'm just plain old tired today. It was a rather long day, and I frankly didn't feel that magnificent as far as health goes. Or on the other hand these could just be stupid excuses. I bet a good author would sit her butt down and bang out another chapter or two anyways, no matter what wee hour of the night it took her to. And I can't even say I have to get to bed early because of schooling- my friend is up way later than I do (yes, usually writing or watching some obscure Japanese manga thingy) and she always seems fine.
Anyhow, I think I shall call this period of time my ideas "incubation time." I had that initial spark last week and jotted a few things down. Well now I am incubating my idea until it is fully matured. That's what I'll tell people anyways because, frankly, it sounds much better than saying it's another one of my procrastination spells. Right?
Ah, why does my muse leave me for so long? She's like a sporadic light bulb that isn't quite broken, instead it flickers for a time and then puffs out again. Whenever she puffs out she stays out for a while.
I should just face it and say I need to whoop my own mind into shape and just write already. It would probably help if I stopped writing this post now. Okay... my goal is to write another 200 words tonight. Not a heck of a lot, I know, but I'll take baby steps here. Starting... now!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Victory is mine!
So I have finally managed to take my story by the horns and get some things done! No longer am I traveling aimlessly in circles! I've been working on a structured outline-thingy for the past couple of days, and it has me completely pumped up. Character sketches, key plot points (but not too-too structured- a little free reign is still the best way to go), and what I need to change and what I don't need to change.
Ah! I can't make this post any longer because I really want to get back to working on it. Progress is finally being made again.
Whee!
Ah! I can't make this post any longer because I really want to get back to working on it. Progress is finally being made again.
Whee!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Valentine's Day Post (The Holiday, Disney Princesses, and Six Words)
So Valentine's day! Whoo-hoo. Not that I have a Valentine or anything, but I think this holiday has the right heart. It's been a little corrupted by the chocolate, card, and flower businesses, but hey- it tries. It's a day to tell those who you love just that- that you love them (no matter who that someone is). It is geared more towards couples, new and old, but hey- what are you going to do? My parents gave me and my bro, code name Jay, a small box of filled chocolates each. I got my parents cards, and I recieved a pink yummy cupcake and some sugar candies from my friends. I forgot to bring my friends in little candies yesterday (again). But it's not about the little presents, or the big ones. I'm okay with this holiday, but I'm not a super fan. The one thing is that I would hate it if I were proposed to on Valentine's Day in the future. For some reason I hate the very idea of it. I want to avoid the cliche of it. I want my guy (when I find him, that it) to be more original than that. Surprise me, make me dinner, give me a bracelet you made yourself, and I will be the happiest person- much happier than the next girl who got a rose and heart candies- again. All of this is, of course, for when I get said guy.
The other thing I wanted to talk about today is classic Disney stories. My spanish teacher let us take out children's books in spanish for the vacation, and I naturally took the collection od Disney stories. I was reading Sleeping Beauty (La Bella Duermiento) to myself last night, realizing that I hadn't had a bedtime story in ten years, and noticed something. Well, actually, I did notice this before, but now especially it seems odd. All of the Princesses are (or are assumed to be near) the age of sixteen. Sixteen when they have adventures and fall in love and get married. Sixteen. I'm sixteen, too, and am nowhere near to any of these things. Maybe I'd like to do some of the things they do, but I can barely imagine it. Marry? That's not even legal at my age, and hasn't been for a LONG time around these here parts. Isn't it kind of creepy that they're all so young?
BUT then I thought about when a lot of these fairy tales were written- a long, long time ago, tales from all over the world. A time when it was normal to marry at that age. Snow White is German, I believe, Cinderella something like that, Beauty and the Beast from France, Sleeping Beauty is also German or something. I don't know about the Little Mermaid- Disney might have created that story themselves. These are the sixteen year old Princesses- or so it seems. Really only Ariel and Aurora/Briar Rose tell us their ages. Belle, Cinderella, Snow White, Jasmine, Mulan (though not really a princess), Megara (also not a princess)- never say specifically how old they are. So then again maybe Disney classics aren't really that odd.
There are also people who are very anti-Disney because the Princesses let the Princes come and rescue them. It's not very feministic, they say, They're nuts in my opinion. Mulan and Megara are strong characters, and even rescue the boys; Belle is compassionate and was willing to trade her life for her father's and falls in love with Beast for who he is on the inside; and Jasmine is a dreamer, brave and smart. And as for Snow White and Cinderella- didn't they deserve their happy ending for their lives of servitude without contempt? Those who lash out at Disney classics are just hurt because they didn't get the happy ending they wanted or thought they deserved. Please, don't deprive your children (especially the girls) of fairy tales just because your life isn't one. They'll understand that a Prince may not just show up at the doorstep as they get older- us girls aren't that stupid, really. Disney classics are good for the soul.
Third topic of the day is the six words thing. My friend, code name Sparkles, had this sociology assignment for homework: write your life's story in six words. Not five, not seven, but six. She had the hardest time with it, and I still don't know just what six words she ended up with in the end. But that got me thinking: what is mine? And I think I've got it.
The other thing I wanted to talk about today is classic Disney stories. My spanish teacher let us take out children's books in spanish for the vacation, and I naturally took the collection od Disney stories. I was reading Sleeping Beauty (La Bella Duermiento) to myself last night, realizing that I hadn't had a bedtime story in ten years, and noticed something. Well, actually, I did notice this before, but now especially it seems odd. All of the Princesses are (or are assumed to be near) the age of sixteen. Sixteen when they have adventures and fall in love and get married. Sixteen. I'm sixteen, too, and am nowhere near to any of these things. Maybe I'd like to do some of the things they do, but I can barely imagine it. Marry? That's not even legal at my age, and hasn't been for a LONG time around these here parts. Isn't it kind of creepy that they're all so young?
BUT then I thought about when a lot of these fairy tales were written- a long, long time ago, tales from all over the world. A time when it was normal to marry at that age. Snow White is German, I believe, Cinderella something like that, Beauty and the Beast from France, Sleeping Beauty is also German or something. I don't know about the Little Mermaid- Disney might have created that story themselves. These are the sixteen year old Princesses- or so it seems. Really only Ariel and Aurora/Briar Rose tell us their ages. Belle, Cinderella, Snow White, Jasmine, Mulan (though not really a princess), Megara (also not a princess)- never say specifically how old they are. So then again maybe Disney classics aren't really that odd.
There are also people who are very anti-Disney because the Princesses let the Princes come and rescue them. It's not very feministic, they say, They're nuts in my opinion. Mulan and Megara are strong characters, and even rescue the boys; Belle is compassionate and was willing to trade her life for her father's and falls in love with Beast for who he is on the inside; and Jasmine is a dreamer, brave and smart. And as for Snow White and Cinderella- didn't they deserve their happy ending for their lives of servitude without contempt? Those who lash out at Disney classics are just hurt because they didn't get the happy ending they wanted or thought they deserved. Please, don't deprive your children (especially the girls) of fairy tales just because your life isn't one. They'll understand that a Prince may not just show up at the doorstep as they get older- us girls aren't that stupid, really. Disney classics are good for the soul.
Third topic of the day is the six words thing. My friend, code name Sparkles, had this sociology assignment for homework: write your life's story in six words. Not five, not seven, but six. She had the hardest time with it, and I still don't know just what six words she ended up with in the end. But that got me thinking: what is mine? And I think I've got it.
Barefooted Mind
Walking Lost
Through Dreams
I like it. It's actually really hard to do, and it's fun too. I reccommend it highly.
Aries' Loss
I'm sorry, Aries. Your Grandfather seemed to be a very good man, and he'll be missed. It's funny how it still punches you in the gut, isn't it?
Since your family has known he'd die for four or five months now- it's hard. My grandma had six weeks when she decided to not go to dialysis anymore. Even for that handful of weeks it felt like the Tower of Terror before it drops. That feeling that you know something bad will happen, it's just a matter of when. If you're up there too long you start to want to get it over with already. At least that's how I felt, because I was the same way with my grandma's downhill spill four years ago. I still hurt sometimes- she was the only extended family member I saw on a regular basis. I even go into the spare room "Grandma's room" and talk to her sometimes. Maybe you'll just think it's weird, or maybe you'll understand me now.
My advice is to listen to a slow song (I recommend I Hope You Dance, but it's your choice) and cry, or just think. Talk about the good memories with your parents. Take your time. First losses are especially hard, even if the death is expected.
I'm sorry, truly.
Since your family has known he'd die for four or five months now- it's hard. My grandma had six weeks when she decided to not go to dialysis anymore. Even for that handful of weeks it felt like the Tower of Terror before it drops. That feeling that you know something bad will happen, it's just a matter of when. If you're up there too long you start to want to get it over with already. At least that's how I felt, because I was the same way with my grandma's downhill spill four years ago. I still hurt sometimes- she was the only extended family member I saw on a regular basis. I even go into the spare room "Grandma's room" and talk to her sometimes. Maybe you'll just think it's weird, or maybe you'll understand me now.
My advice is to listen to a slow song (I recommend I Hope You Dance, but it's your choice) and cry, or just think. Talk about the good memories with your parents. Take your time. First losses are especially hard, even if the death is expected.
I'm sorry, truly.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
New Music, Current Pondering, Best Buddies
Yeah, so I went on iTunes today to get me some more songs, because my library was starting to turn stale. I'm one of those people who buys a couple of songs at a time and then listen them to a thousand times, which in turn makes them get old quicker than normally. Anyways, as I was saying, I bought new songs today (three, actually). They are as follows: My Beautiful Rescue, Monster, and What If. The latter two are by a band I found: Meg & Dia. I like them so far. Original and their songs are full of raw stuff, a little emo-ish (violent for sure) but still have a good beat to them. All of which are good in my book, except for the emo part, which I usually don't go for- but these songs feel like they'll coax a character out of my head. Here are the lyrics to Monster:
So, yeah, part two: my ponderings. I would like to turn your attentions to heaven. I'm reading a book called The Fetch by a Laura Whitcomb, and it deals with an angel of sorts. I would explain it, but it's too much for now, so for all intensive purposes I will call him an angel. So, I was thinking: what to pastors/ priests/ rabbis/ monks (hehehe) all say about heaven, or whichever version of a heaven the religion has? Happiness, right? Everybody is full and happy and with no worries at all. All love and giggles and feasting with friends and family. Forever, eternally, happily ever after, ext. Does this sound a little odd to you too? How can anyone in heaven- what do you call them... not the dead... uh, I'll just go with angels again- SO, these angels- how can they not worry about those back on earth? My mom would answer that as 'Because they know that in the end they too will go to heaven and be with them.' Yeah- but that person down on earth doesn't know that, do they? Wouldn't they worry that their loved ones are in pain because of their death, even if it's only "temporary." Another opposing point to mine would be 'they watch over them' or the guardian angel thing. Again I ask- would that stress them out in the least seeing the grief? Just a little? Yes, why yes it would. Next point: are you still the same person if there is no suffering? Define happiness without using suffering to describe what it is. It's like- you can't have light without a shadow somewhere. And wouldn't eternal bliss be... I don't know, monotonous after a while of it? How many turkey dinners can you eat without getting tired of turkey? Since I'm being quite pessimistic at the moment, I'll say this to lighten the mood: I do like the idea of heaven. Shocker? But I do- just not the puffy white cloud thing that's normally going on. If I told you my personal want for heaven to be, you'd laugh at me so loud it would travel straight through cyberland and come out of my laptop and scare the crap out of me in the middle of the night or something. So I shall keep my ideas to myself for once there.
Part three: best buddies. It's an international 'buddy' program for mentally disabled children (and adults). You are matched with a child and form a one-on-one relationship with your buddy, keeping in touch at least once a week via e-mail, phone calls, or meetings. Once a month you and you buddy go out to the movies, or bowling, or just hang out around your or their house. You go to the mandatory meetings, and sometimes to parties or dances with other Best Buddie programs in your area. I want to do it, and I picked up the participation and personality matching sheets today after school. The answer to the 'Why do you want to join Best Buddies?' is that I think everyone deserves a friend, and if I have the opportunity to be that friend- the one that makes a difference or that just makes things a little bit better sometimes- then I would be honored. And I believe in that, truly. So I hope that I interview well after break and that I can have a buddy. It'll be fun, and make me feel like maybe I am making a difference by being a good friend- a perfectly good feeling to have.
Peace out for now.
His little whispers.
Love Me. Love Me.
That's all I ask for. Love Me. Love Me.
He battered his tiny fists to feel something.Wondered what it's like to touch and feel something.
Monster
How should I feel?Creatures lie here.Looking through the window
That night he caged her.Bruised and broke her
He struggled closer.Then he stole her
Violet wrists and then her ankles
Silent Pain
Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams
Monster.
How should I feel?Creatures lie here
I will
Looking through the windows
Hear their voices. I'm a glass child
I am Hannah's regret
Monster
How should I feel?Turn the sheets down
Murder ears with pillow lace
There's bath tubs
Full of glow flies
Bathe in kerosene
Their words tattooed in his veins, yeah
So, yeah, part two: my ponderings. I would like to turn your attentions to heaven. I'm reading a book called The Fetch by a Laura Whitcomb, and it deals with an angel of sorts. I would explain it, but it's too much for now, so for all intensive purposes I will call him an angel. So, I was thinking: what to pastors/ priests/ rabbis/ monks (hehehe) all say about heaven, or whichever version of a heaven the religion has? Happiness, right? Everybody is full and happy and with no worries at all. All love and giggles and feasting with friends and family. Forever, eternally, happily ever after, ext. Does this sound a little odd to you too? How can anyone in heaven- what do you call them... not the dead... uh, I'll just go with angels again- SO, these angels- how can they not worry about those back on earth? My mom would answer that as 'Because they know that in the end they too will go to heaven and be with them.' Yeah- but that person down on earth doesn't know that, do they? Wouldn't they worry that their loved ones are in pain because of their death, even if it's only "temporary." Another opposing point to mine would be 'they watch over them' or the guardian angel thing. Again I ask- would that stress them out in the least seeing the grief? Just a little? Yes, why yes it would. Next point: are you still the same person if there is no suffering? Define happiness without using suffering to describe what it is. It's like- you can't have light without a shadow somewhere. And wouldn't eternal bliss be... I don't know, monotonous after a while of it? How many turkey dinners can you eat without getting tired of turkey? Since I'm being quite pessimistic at the moment, I'll say this to lighten the mood: I do like the idea of heaven. Shocker? But I do- just not the puffy white cloud thing that's normally going on. If I told you my personal want for heaven to be, you'd laugh at me so loud it would travel straight through cyberland and come out of my laptop and scare the crap out of me in the middle of the night or something. So I shall keep my ideas to myself for once there.
Part three: best buddies. It's an international 'buddy' program for mentally disabled children (and adults). You are matched with a child and form a one-on-one relationship with your buddy, keeping in touch at least once a week via e-mail, phone calls, or meetings. Once a month you and you buddy go out to the movies, or bowling, or just hang out around your or their house. You go to the mandatory meetings, and sometimes to parties or dances with other Best Buddie programs in your area. I want to do it, and I picked up the participation and personality matching sheets today after school. The answer to the 'Why do you want to join Best Buddies?' is that I think everyone deserves a friend, and if I have the opportunity to be that friend- the one that makes a difference or that just makes things a little bit better sometimes- then I would be honored. And I believe in that, truly. So I hope that I interview well after break and that I can have a buddy. It'll be fun, and make me feel like maybe I am making a difference by being a good friend- a perfectly good feeling to have.
Peace out for now.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Writing
Okay, so I know that all Bloggers must love writing, and that therefore I am only one of the many, that -hey, I might not even be unique, but I have to write this post anyways. I started writing in third grade, with my very first short story The Lonely Duck. Cute, right? But I only ever really wrote for assignments and projects until eighth grade or so. And even then I was writing pretty much because one of my close friends wrote (and she had been writing for a while, too), and I figured 'if she can, I can.'
And so I started to write seriously, for me, and with the distant intention of getting published. It was all horrible scribblings at first, as I couldn't help but half-mimic the types of books I'd recently read. If I read Ella Enchanted, I would start a fairy tale spin off story, or if I read Nobody's Princess (about a Spartan Princess), I would switch to writing a mythology type book, if I read a book about magic and knights, so would I, and so on. It took me a while to find out which style was mine, and which was only a copy of another's. It's hard to do that, find yourself, that is, as a writer. Notice how I don't call myself an author- and I certainly won't until I finish a book I'm terribly proud of (as much as anyone can be) and get it published. Because that's how it works in my mind- only published writers are authors. Anywhoo, I've definitely started to discover what kind of a writer I am (not saying I've got it completely figured out yet, but we'll see).
This last November I discovered NaNoWriMo, the most amazing site ever. I got four of my friends to so it with me, two of whom were serious about it like me, and two of whom quickly gave up (but I don't blame them- it was damn hard!) NaNoWriMo, also just called NaNo, stands for National Novel Writing Month- which is November, apparently. It starts At midnight on October 31st and ends the last day of November, again at midnight. The goal is to reach 50,000 words. They don't even have to be good words, even. The only aim for NaNo is to get people to write without going back every few minutes/days to edit something. As they say, you can always edit a badly written page, but you can't edit a page that hasn't yet been written. I don't know if to anyone reading this is 50,000 looks like a lot or not, but I can assure you, at least for me (a non-professional, virtually beginner writer, and a full time high school student) it was nigh impossible. That is, if I remember correctly, 1670 words per day. I think. And that's a lot. But I finished it, with the help of an all nighter write-in with my other participating friends, at 50,011 words. I could have gotten more, but as soon as I looked up to see my counter was past 50,000, even just by eleven words, my brain deflated, victorious. The two friends who were trying finished too, both with more words than I. But I didn't really care- I was over my goal and it was heaven. Editing is still proceeding, slowly, slowly. We three plan to do it next year as well. To check out the site (it won't have much activity until October or so, but just for the heck of it), click on the cute picture of Dumbo to the left somewhere.
My problems that I need to work out with myself pretty much all deal with self discipline. I need to force myself to sit down and work on my stories, or books, or whatever the correct terminology is. And then I need to force myself to finish it, and then to edit it. So far I have not succeeded with any of these things. First off, I edit waaaaay too much before I even finish. The plot is like liquid in my head, always changing, messing things up, and waterlogging all my thoughts. And these are things that only I can help myself with. For some reason, I haven't yet finished a book I'm proud of, if I've finished any at all. Heck, even my main character's name changes several times throughout each story. It's awful of me, but I can't get myself out of this rut- my wheels are spinning, but nothing happens, you know? This blog was started so I could still get in writing practice to help with my new year's resolution of writing every day, because I just can't seem to get myself to work on my story, whether it's editing it or writing it. At least here I can write about whatever I feel like, instead of trying to browbeat myself into staying in line with the plot. And yes, I know that I'm just supposed to let the plot take me wherever it wants to go, but then I always end up having to change other major pieces in the beginning, and then return to the current plot, and only then to write more and go back again. It's frustrating, and I don't really know what to do.
I wish I could write more like my friend, code name Aries, who was one of my NaNo buddies. She's finished around four books, and her only problem is writing too much- as in she writes multiple books at once. I haven't a clue how Aries does it. She spends just as much time writing as she reads, whereas I am guilty of reading far, far more then I write. Always writing snippets of character conversation, or description in every one of her school notebooks, when the teachers are talking (and no, her grades definitely do not take a hit from this- usually they're equal to or superior to mine.)- and I don't know how she manages. Yes, I'm jealous of Aries, and it's stupid of me, because I could just as easily make myself take out a pen and write in my notebooks too, and spend more time writing and editing at home, like she does- yet I don't, because I lead myself in cursed circles like I was saying above, and now I'm just plain complaining and whining, and this really doesn't suit me well...
Despite everything, I still want to become an author someday. More than anything, I think. I want to be like Kristin Cashore, Tamora Pierce, Gail Carson Levine, Chris Paolini, even like Aries as far as work ethic goes. But I want to be different from them, too, my own. The most important thing is that I want to be my own.
And so I started to write seriously, for me, and with the distant intention of getting published. It was all horrible scribblings at first, as I couldn't help but half-mimic the types of books I'd recently read. If I read Ella Enchanted, I would start a fairy tale spin off story, or if I read Nobody's Princess (about a Spartan Princess), I would switch to writing a mythology type book, if I read a book about magic and knights, so would I, and so on. It took me a while to find out which style was mine, and which was only a copy of another's. It's hard to do that, find yourself, that is, as a writer. Notice how I don't call myself an author- and I certainly won't until I finish a book I'm terribly proud of (as much as anyone can be) and get it published. Because that's how it works in my mind- only published writers are authors. Anywhoo, I've definitely started to discover what kind of a writer I am (not saying I've got it completely figured out yet, but we'll see).
This last November I discovered NaNoWriMo, the most amazing site ever. I got four of my friends to so it with me, two of whom were serious about it like me, and two of whom quickly gave up (but I don't blame them- it was damn hard!) NaNoWriMo, also just called NaNo, stands for National Novel Writing Month- which is November, apparently. It starts At midnight on October 31st and ends the last day of November, again at midnight. The goal is to reach 50,000 words. They don't even have to be good words, even. The only aim for NaNo is to get people to write without going back every few minutes/days to edit something. As they say, you can always edit a badly written page, but you can't edit a page that hasn't yet been written. I don't know if to anyone reading this is 50,000 looks like a lot or not, but I can assure you, at least for me (a non-professional, virtually beginner writer, and a full time high school student) it was nigh impossible. That is, if I remember correctly, 1670 words per day. I think. And that's a lot. But I finished it, with the help of an all nighter write-in with my other participating friends, at 50,011 words. I could have gotten more, but as soon as I looked up to see my counter was past 50,000, even just by eleven words, my brain deflated, victorious. The two friends who were trying finished too, both with more words than I. But I didn't really care- I was over my goal and it was heaven. Editing is still proceeding, slowly, slowly. We three plan to do it next year as well. To check out the site (it won't have much activity until October or so, but just for the heck of it), click on the cute picture of Dumbo to the left somewhere.
My problems that I need to work out with myself pretty much all deal with self discipline. I need to force myself to sit down and work on my stories, or books, or whatever the correct terminology is. And then I need to force myself to finish it, and then to edit it. So far I have not succeeded with any of these things. First off, I edit waaaaay too much before I even finish. The plot is like liquid in my head, always changing, messing things up, and waterlogging all my thoughts. And these are things that only I can help myself with. For some reason, I haven't yet finished a book I'm proud of, if I've finished any at all. Heck, even my main character's name changes several times throughout each story. It's awful of me, but I can't get myself out of this rut- my wheels are spinning, but nothing happens, you know? This blog was started so I could still get in writing practice to help with my new year's resolution of writing every day, because I just can't seem to get myself to work on my story, whether it's editing it or writing it. At least here I can write about whatever I feel like, instead of trying to browbeat myself into staying in line with the plot. And yes, I know that I'm just supposed to let the plot take me wherever it wants to go, but then I always end up having to change other major pieces in the beginning, and then return to the current plot, and only then to write more and go back again. It's frustrating, and I don't really know what to do.
I wish I could write more like my friend, code name Aries, who was one of my NaNo buddies. She's finished around four books, and her only problem is writing too much- as in she writes multiple books at once. I haven't a clue how Aries does it. She spends just as much time writing as she reads, whereas I am guilty of reading far, far more then I write. Always writing snippets of character conversation, or description in every one of her school notebooks, when the teachers are talking (and no, her grades definitely do not take a hit from this- usually they're equal to or superior to mine.)- and I don't know how she manages. Yes, I'm jealous of Aries, and it's stupid of me, because I could just as easily make myself take out a pen and write in my notebooks too, and spend more time writing and editing at home, like she does- yet I don't, because I lead myself in cursed circles like I was saying above, and now I'm just plain complaining and whining, and this really doesn't suit me well...
Despite everything, I still want to become an author someday. More than anything, I think. I want to be like Kristin Cashore, Tamora Pierce, Gail Carson Levine, Chris Paolini, even like Aries as far as work ethic goes. But I want to be different from them, too, my own. The most important thing is that I want to be my own.
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