There's this feeling I only get easily when I'm over-tired. It's like butterflies in my heart.. It's a very fluttery and good feeling, though it's so delicate that I'm sure it could easily turn to crushing heartache. My defenses are down, so I'm more susceptible to all the stuff around me. I'm blaming haunting music and joyful music... and tomorrow I'll be writing out the scenes I outlined tonight. I wish I could carry the fluttery feeling into my days. And I really hope that I can remember the feeling in the morning so that my writing will come quickly.
This morning I decided that I need to stop thinking about killing off characters. I like closure, and the quickest way to tie up loose ends is to kill everyone... that way there won't be any what ifs. The thing is, I don't have much reason to kill people who matter this time. I'm still not sure about happy endings; while I understand there is a formula for things, I also think that, no matter how surreal the reality is, it's still a reality...and I need to respect that. I know all of the endings, and they're all a bit sad. The last will at least feel complete... but I can already picture Ivy at the end; I can see her expression and know what she's feeling...and it's bittersweet. I want to kill her to take away THAT suffering, but I can't...because there's still hope. The hero doesn't have to die to create a legend... not all of her, anyway.
And even though I've decided not to kill her, and I'm certain of that... I've also decided that I'm sticking with third person limited. I re-wrote the first chapter in first person, just to see how it felt. There were some things that I thought were definite advantages, but when it comes down to it, I'm just tired of YA being written in first person. And I don't want to limit the POV so much. Sure, Ivy is interesting... but I like the idea of developing empathy in the ways that we do as people. I read a great article earlier about how humans are feeling creatures - how we read those around us and feel with them - and how writing in third person allows us to have empathy in a way that first person does not. First person is so much more tell than show, and I want show. I want feel.
I'm going to read some more third person books to see the style in action. Lately I've been reading a bunch of first person, because I read YA...blah. I searched around for lists of third person YA speculative fiction, and some of them are really great (Cassandra Clare, for example). I'll pick up a few of the other titles I found and go from there. I have such an extensive reading list...and that's something that makes me VERY happy. The last three days were spend with the Hex Hall series, and I really enjoyed the books. They were short and fast-paced, with snarky characters (and the tall, dark, and handsome bad boy, of course). The basics were all there, and yet, there was something original in the telling. It was first person, but the person was interesting. I love a good sarcastic character... laugh in the face of danger! It wasn't deep, but there was a point in the third book that I was actually impressed by how deep it was in the heat of the moment... I wondered if it was intentional. I wondered if the writer realized the power of the couple sentences about how the most terrible evils are those done by people who really think they're doing the right thing.
And I should sleep...before I get all political. :)
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
My son turns 3 this week. He's taking it about as well as I took turning 30...I may not have literally cried, but he certainly has. His tears have been related to frustration...mommy must not be very smart if she keeps insisting I'm going to be 3, when I know very well that I'm 2. I'm handling his turning 3. Not well, but...I'll survive. I love all the new and interesting things he's capable of these days. I love how fast he learns, and how eager and curious he is...about everything. It's an amazing journey. Sometimes I miss my little baby though...new baby smell and dino talk...him ALWAYS wanting to cuddle. I'm lucky because he's still a pretty cuddly kid. I'm going to take full advantage of it because I know it won't last forever.
My little boy is growing up...
In other news...things have been good and bad. Re-entering the world of the unemployed is never really desirable...but this time around it came with such a rush of creativity that I can't help but draw the conclusion that I was creatively stifled. I was. I think that most people are... :\ I know I'm the square peg in the area with only round holes available. I also know that I'm at a disadvantage because I've been mostly home for so long - away from people and their germs. I've been told that normal companies are more understanding of similar situations...they realize that people get sick when they haven't been exposed to germs for years...and I can't help but think I'll never know the whole truth in this situation. There's not much sense in thinking about it, which is why I haven't.
Right now I'm relaxing...laying in bed, listening to Five Mile Town...and the prayer flags beating against the screen. It's nearly time to get back to writing... but I'm easing into it tonight. After the dreams I had last night, I think I may have to get some other stuff out before I can get on with the real story...so...here: My dream was a bizarre combination of Cars 2 and the Hunger Games movie. Everyone had to take pills, and the pills may or may not kill them when they're placed in front of a screen. It was some kind of population control.. weeded out the weaker people? I don't remember the details of why it was done. The guard walked away after giving out the pills, and was talking with someone down the road. The girl in front of me stepped in front of the screen...it was more of an arch that looked something like a time travel portal. She immediately went into violent convulsions. Her skull cracked as it hit the rocky ground, there was a lot of blood... I ran in front of the screen and tried to hold her down. I felt her die. Other people who were waiting around freaked out because I'd gone in front of the screen to help her. I broke the rules; they also thought I was going to die, too. When I didn't die, they quieted and stared. There were big screens above us broadcasting what was happening. I was covered in her blood. I got up to try to find the guard...mostly because I was mad at him...but I couldn't approach him. As soon as I walked around the corner, I saw him...and he was laughing with another guard...I felt so nauseated that I turned and walked away... and then I woke up. I felt sick for a little while after waking up.
There.
Now that that's out, I feel a little more clear-headed. :) I think I can get back to what I need to be doing now. :)
In other news...things have been good and bad. Re-entering the world of the unemployed is never really desirable...but this time around it came with such a rush of creativity that I can't help but draw the conclusion that I was creatively stifled. I was. I think that most people are... :\ I know I'm the square peg in the area with only round holes available. I also know that I'm at a disadvantage because I've been mostly home for so long - away from people and their germs. I've been told that normal companies are more understanding of similar situations...they realize that people get sick when they haven't been exposed to germs for years...and I can't help but think I'll never know the whole truth in this situation. There's not much sense in thinking about it, which is why I haven't.
Right now I'm relaxing...laying in bed, listening to Five Mile Town...and the prayer flags beating against the screen. It's nearly time to get back to writing... but I'm easing into it tonight. After the dreams I had last night, I think I may have to get some other stuff out before I can get on with the real story...so...here: My dream was a bizarre combination of Cars 2 and the Hunger Games movie. Everyone had to take pills, and the pills may or may not kill them when they're placed in front of a screen. It was some kind of population control.. weeded out the weaker people? I don't remember the details of why it was done. The guard walked away after giving out the pills, and was talking with someone down the road. The girl in front of me stepped in front of the screen...it was more of an arch that looked something like a time travel portal. She immediately went into violent convulsions. Her skull cracked as it hit the rocky ground, there was a lot of blood... I ran in front of the screen and tried to hold her down. I felt her die. Other people who were waiting around freaked out because I'd gone in front of the screen to help her. I broke the rules; they also thought I was going to die, too. When I didn't die, they quieted and stared. There were big screens above us broadcasting what was happening. I was covered in her blood. I got up to try to find the guard...mostly because I was mad at him...but I couldn't approach him. As soon as I walked around the corner, I saw him...and he was laughing with another guard...I felt so nauseated that I turned and walked away... and then I woke up. I felt sick for a little while after waking up.
There.
Now that that's out, I feel a little more clear-headed. :) I think I can get back to what I need to be doing now. :)
Monday, February 20, 2012
Childhood Fears
Oliver is afraid of owls. At least, he says he is. He talks about where owls are, and how he would rather not be in the same places.
I'm not afraid of owls, but I do have complicated emotions when it comes to the dark, coyotes, and bugs. Just a few minutes ago, I was relaxing in bed. I guess I was trying to watch Seinfeld, but it's hard to do with a pack of coyotes outside the window. An ambulance broke things up for a few minutes, but once whatever the fuss at the other end of the street was dealt with, the yipping and howling rose up again. And then I remembered my first real fears.
When I was little, 3 or 4 years old, we lived out in the country. In the summer, we'd sleep with windows open and screen doors letting the night breeze fill the house. We also had dimmer switches in a few rooms - my bedroom being one. I was terrified of the dark, and slept with the light dimmed about half way. Moths and what I assume to have been all forms of winged monsters gathered on the ceiling of my room, right above my bed. If I slept (or tried to sleep) on my back, I would see the bugs. That didn't work for me.
I tried sleeping on my stomach, but my bed was right under the one window I had...overlooking the front yard. On a clear night when the moon was full, it was a massacre. The coyotes would gather to eat our cats. They'd roam the lawn in silence. It was chilling.
So those were my choices: the bugs on the ceiling, or the coyotes on the lawn. I vividly remember many a night hiding under my sheet, swatting at things that I thought were crawling on me, doing everything I could to keep my eyes closed. After all, when you're a kid, the dangers are less real if you keep your eyes closed. Sometimes I'd cry. Sometimes I was too scared to sleep, and instead, I passed out from exhaustion.
I'm the grown-up now, and I protect my little one from the owls... he says, "there's nothing to be scared of" as he walks down the dark hall to go to bed. He talks about the ghosts and the owls and the bats. He's a tough kid, but I wonder if he'd tell me if something really scared him. I never told my parents about the bugs or the coyotes.
I'm not afraid of owls, but I do have complicated emotions when it comes to the dark, coyotes, and bugs. Just a few minutes ago, I was relaxing in bed. I guess I was trying to watch Seinfeld, but it's hard to do with a pack of coyotes outside the window. An ambulance broke things up for a few minutes, but once whatever the fuss at the other end of the street was dealt with, the yipping and howling rose up again. And then I remembered my first real fears.
When I was little, 3 or 4 years old, we lived out in the country. In the summer, we'd sleep with windows open and screen doors letting the night breeze fill the house. We also had dimmer switches in a few rooms - my bedroom being one. I was terrified of the dark, and slept with the light dimmed about half way. Moths and what I assume to have been all forms of winged monsters gathered on the ceiling of my room, right above my bed. If I slept (or tried to sleep) on my back, I would see the bugs. That didn't work for me.
I tried sleeping on my stomach, but my bed was right under the one window I had...overlooking the front yard. On a clear night when the moon was full, it was a massacre. The coyotes would gather to eat our cats. They'd roam the lawn in silence. It was chilling.
So those were my choices: the bugs on the ceiling, or the coyotes on the lawn. I vividly remember many a night hiding under my sheet, swatting at things that I thought were crawling on me, doing everything I could to keep my eyes closed. After all, when you're a kid, the dangers are less real if you keep your eyes closed. Sometimes I'd cry. Sometimes I was too scared to sleep, and instead, I passed out from exhaustion.
I'm the grown-up now, and I protect my little one from the owls... he says, "there's nothing to be scared of" as he walks down the dark hall to go to bed. He talks about the ghosts and the owls and the bats. He's a tough kid, but I wonder if he'd tell me if something really scared him. I never told my parents about the bugs or the coyotes.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Storyteller
I came here with the intention of writing something much more meaningful...and instead I wrote the previous entry...a work-related rant. Boo.
The other day I was asked a very simple question, and yet... it's changed something in me. "How's the book coming?" A person I hardly know at all is aware that I'm writing something. I felt a bit of fear...pride, too, but there was some fear. I've admitted to myself and to others that I am writing. There's an expectation out there... and apparently it's no longer just my own.
There was a bit of unexpected good fortune in my writing class - those students who are working on a longer piece are able to submit the first chapter in place of a short story. I had so hoped to be able to use this class as a method of fleshing things out. I want more feedback. I want some insight... the first book is still my stumbling point. If only I could start with book two...I already know that world. Creating a whole world is difficult...much more difficult that I'd imagined. A small-scale world is one thing...a town, a house, a park... this is a whole world, its universe...the feel, the look, the people... it's every little thing that makes it real. I can see it so clearly, and I know a few of the people who live there, but I don't know the world; I don't know the rules.
Oddly, despite the lack of a world for my characters to toil in, I am feeling confident.
My biggest fear with the class is that I have to tell my class how the story ends. I've given details to 3 people...but haven't told them the most important thing about the story. If I'm not even able to tell people I trust, how can I tell all these strangers?? It's too close to me. If I believed in souls, this'd be a part of mine.
Anyway... I'm trying to avoid getting Oliver's current illness... The effort is entirely futile, but it's best that I sleep now anyway. Monday morning always comes too soon.
The other day I was asked a very simple question, and yet... it's changed something in me. "How's the book coming?" A person I hardly know at all is aware that I'm writing something. I felt a bit of fear...pride, too, but there was some fear. I've admitted to myself and to others that I am writing. There's an expectation out there... and apparently it's no longer just my own.
There was a bit of unexpected good fortune in my writing class - those students who are working on a longer piece are able to submit the first chapter in place of a short story. I had so hoped to be able to use this class as a method of fleshing things out. I want more feedback. I want some insight... the first book is still my stumbling point. If only I could start with book two...I already know that world. Creating a whole world is difficult...much more difficult that I'd imagined. A small-scale world is one thing...a town, a house, a park... this is a whole world, its universe...the feel, the look, the people... it's every little thing that makes it real. I can see it so clearly, and I know a few of the people who live there, but I don't know the world; I don't know the rules.
Oddly, despite the lack of a world for my characters to toil in, I am feeling confident.
My biggest fear with the class is that I have to tell my class how the story ends. I've given details to 3 people...but haven't told them the most important thing about the story. If I'm not even able to tell people I trust, how can I tell all these strangers?? It's too close to me. If I believed in souls, this'd be a part of mine.
Anyway... I'm trying to avoid getting Oliver's current illness... The effort is entirely futile, but it's best that I sleep now anyway. Monday morning always comes too soon.
Worker Bee.
I've learned some things in the last six months that I could have gone a lifetime without knowing. In fact, I wish I didn't know...
I wish I didn't know that one stinky person is able to make an 8000 square-foot building smell so bad it makes your eyes water. A few stinky people at once is probably someone's hell. It's pretty close to that for me. I have a low threshold for such things. How do you tell someone that they're making you feel an almost uncontrollable urge to dry-heave over a trash can?
A while back we got a book about crafting with cat hair. I'm serious. Felted cat hair finger puppets. It's pretty fantastic. But, after checking in books for...all this time...I've decided that we need a Crafting with Patron Hair book.
I'm also genuinely appalled by the things that people seem to think library books are used for... a library book is not a plate or a coaster, yet they so often come back with bits of food stuck inside the pages and the tell-tale coffee cup-sized circle of dried liquid on the cover. I would really like to NEVER again have to ask myself, or anyone else, "Is this chocolate or...?" I'd be so happy if I never again found a piece of toilet paper being used as a bookmark. At least I haven't yet had the thrill of picking a condom out of a book.
It's upsetting.
What little tolerance I had for people is quickly fading. I do have my moments of being genuinely friendly, but it's tough. I like the books far more than I like the people.
I wish I didn't know that one stinky person is able to make an 8000 square-foot building smell so bad it makes your eyes water. A few stinky people at once is probably someone's hell. It's pretty close to that for me. I have a low threshold for such things. How do you tell someone that they're making you feel an almost uncontrollable urge to dry-heave over a trash can?
A while back we got a book about crafting with cat hair. I'm serious. Felted cat hair finger puppets. It's pretty fantastic. But, after checking in books for...all this time...I've decided that we need a Crafting with Patron Hair book.
I'm also genuinely appalled by the things that people seem to think library books are used for... a library book is not a plate or a coaster, yet they so often come back with bits of food stuck inside the pages and the tell-tale coffee cup-sized circle of dried liquid on the cover. I would really like to NEVER again have to ask myself, or anyone else, "Is this chocolate or...?" I'd be so happy if I never again found a piece of toilet paper being used as a bookmark. At least I haven't yet had the thrill of picking a condom out of a book.
It's upsetting.
What little tolerance I had for people is quickly fading. I do have my moments of being genuinely friendly, but it's tough. I like the books far more than I like the people.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
I see the sun peeking...
Literally and figuratively. It's probably going to be a pretty fantastic day outside...I'll be inside for the most part, though. I'm on day 4 of whatever illness this is, and I'm thoroughly tired of being sick. Getting a job is supposed to be a good thing, full of new goodness and new money...but it's hard to get either of those things when you also get new illnesses that keep you firmly placed on your couch, rather than in your place of employment. In an effort to change the pace of this last week and a half, I've decided to write about the good aspects of all that's gone wrong.
First and foremost, I'd like to address this random illness. My inner ears have always given me issues...from room-spinning dizziness to throat infections. It's not much fun, but it does lead to weight loss in the new year! It's really hard to eat in a spinning room...and the results are often exactly as one would expect. While illness may not be my preferred method, it's a method none the less. And let's face it, most women secretly (and some publicly) wish to drop a few pounds each January. I'm not one for resolutions, but I'll take a happy coincidence any time :)
The POS car breaking down at the grocery store...after I got produce and frozen foods... well, that could have been much worse. My mom had planned to drive that car to Tucson over the weekend, and it would have been much more complicated getting it towed from there to a place that would have been closed. And she didn't end up stranded in Tucson. And I found out just how quick and well AAA works. But I think the most important thing I learned from that is that my son is a real trooper. He didn't whine AT ALL. He was stuck sitting in a hot car, and all he asked for was a drink. He didn't cry, he didn't kick the seat... When we got out to let the tow truck do its thing, he watched with quiet excitement (quite a task for a nearly 3-year-old). When we got to the mechanic, he stayed where he was supposed to stay. He read an old issue of Guns and Ammo (not really my idea of good reading material for a toddler, but whatever) and looked at model cars. He was just an absolutely perfect child. I was pretty proud... pretty impressed with his attitude.
And besides, the car is fixed now.
The lack of a hot water heater for a few days... every single shower I've had since getting the new hot water heater has been amazing. I've been much more grateful for what I have.
The blown up microwave and outlet got me a nice new microwave. The outlet is fixed, too. I still haven't figured out all the buttons, but it's pretty.
All my textbooks arrived on time, for once. I really miss shopping at the UA bookstore, but at least this semester I'm prepared. The best part of this is that I actually bought the books for my writing class, and I really like one of them. I can see myself referencing it in the future.
I've had an iPad to play with for a few days now... and I have to admit, the thing is pretty cool for Oliver. It's mostly useless for me...I can't type fast on it and it's just not fast enough for me overall. The little kid phonics games are lots of fun for Oliver, though. He likes it a lot more than I do... so maybe I'll look into other tablet-like devices and see if I can find one with similar games. There's just no way I can justify buying an iPad. It's nice to see my kid getting interested in a tech toy and actually being able to learn from it :)
Then there's the accidental 8-week writing class. For some reason, I think I knew I was signing up for an 8-week class during registration. I just completely forgot. I'm sure I thought it'd be an excellent idea, because I'd get it out of the way and have less to do in the end of the traditional semester. That's still true, and if I survive the next few weeks, it'll be nice to have a break. I wanted to be forced to write something...and now I'm REALLY forced.
There's one good thing that's happening this week that doesn't have roots in anything bad. I'm paying off a credit card. Two down, two to go! I'm very excited :)
And finally, as the room is not currently spinning, I think I'm going to have a brownie. :)
First and foremost, I'd like to address this random illness. My inner ears have always given me issues...from room-spinning dizziness to throat infections. It's not much fun, but it does lead to weight loss in the new year! It's really hard to eat in a spinning room...and the results are often exactly as one would expect. While illness may not be my preferred method, it's a method none the less. And let's face it, most women secretly (and some publicly) wish to drop a few pounds each January. I'm not one for resolutions, but I'll take a happy coincidence any time :)
The POS car breaking down at the grocery store...after I got produce and frozen foods... well, that could have been much worse. My mom had planned to drive that car to Tucson over the weekend, and it would have been much more complicated getting it towed from there to a place that would have been closed. And she didn't end up stranded in Tucson. And I found out just how quick and well AAA works. But I think the most important thing I learned from that is that my son is a real trooper. He didn't whine AT ALL. He was stuck sitting in a hot car, and all he asked for was a drink. He didn't cry, he didn't kick the seat... When we got out to let the tow truck do its thing, he watched with quiet excitement (quite a task for a nearly 3-year-old). When we got to the mechanic, he stayed where he was supposed to stay. He read an old issue of Guns and Ammo (not really my idea of good reading material for a toddler, but whatever) and looked at model cars. He was just an absolutely perfect child. I was pretty proud... pretty impressed with his attitude.
And besides, the car is fixed now.
The lack of a hot water heater for a few days... every single shower I've had since getting the new hot water heater has been amazing. I've been much more grateful for what I have.
The blown up microwave and outlet got me a nice new microwave. The outlet is fixed, too. I still haven't figured out all the buttons, but it's pretty.
All my textbooks arrived on time, for once. I really miss shopping at the UA bookstore, but at least this semester I'm prepared. The best part of this is that I actually bought the books for my writing class, and I really like one of them. I can see myself referencing it in the future.
I've had an iPad to play with for a few days now... and I have to admit, the thing is pretty cool for Oliver. It's mostly useless for me...I can't type fast on it and it's just not fast enough for me overall. The little kid phonics games are lots of fun for Oliver, though. He likes it a lot more than I do... so maybe I'll look into other tablet-like devices and see if I can find one with similar games. There's just no way I can justify buying an iPad. It's nice to see my kid getting interested in a tech toy and actually being able to learn from it :)
Then there's the accidental 8-week writing class. For some reason, I think I knew I was signing up for an 8-week class during registration. I just completely forgot. I'm sure I thought it'd be an excellent idea, because I'd get it out of the way and have less to do in the end of the traditional semester. That's still true, and if I survive the next few weeks, it'll be nice to have a break. I wanted to be forced to write something...and now I'm REALLY forced.
There's one good thing that's happening this week that doesn't have roots in anything bad. I'm paying off a credit card. Two down, two to go! I'm very excited :)
And finally, as the room is not currently spinning, I think I'm going to have a brownie. :)
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Return of the Bad Blogger
It's a new year and this is a new blog post! I'm doing my best to remain positive this year, and this year is raging back - saying, "I CHALLENGE YOU to keep that unnaturally cheerful disposition in the face of all I'll give you, AND raging pms." You're right, you're right...I am not a particularly cheerful person, but I am generally capable of finding the good and/or humorous side of whatever is going on. It's been getting increasingly difficult, though. Last Monday I was really not looking forward to going back to work. Having only one day off was insufficient and I was cranky. I got to the parking lot, picked up my purse, and noticed that it had cat puke all over one side. Awesome, right? The next day, the hot water heater broke. I can survive one day without a shower, and without killing anyone as a result of not having showered. At the end of that day, I was boiling water on the stove and preparing a lovely 6-inch bath for myself. This went on for a while. Please keep in mind that, with raging pms and not nearly enough chocolate on the face of the earth to calm me, saying that I was unkind would be an understatement. Looking back, I'm not sure how some people survived. Friday morning I finally got a wonderful shower, and thought that just based on that, the whole day had to be excellent. And then the dreaded monthly visitor arrived. 19 years and I still whine... Anyway, I had things to do! I had to go get a storage unit so that I can re-do Oliver's room, I needed to shop, and I wanted to take Oliver to the library. We made the rounds, but at some point I managed to lose my coffee, so we had to go back to Starbucks. Convenient, I guess, because I also needed some produce and a bag of coffee for home brewing, and Starbucks is in Safeway. I always park way out in the middle of nowhere, partially because walking across a parking lot IS exercise, and partially because I'm terrible at parking. This came in very handy when Oliver and I got back to the car...loaded it up with even more groceries...and the damn thing wouldn't start. I am so glad I have AAA. And so glad I parked in bfe, so that the tow truck could get to us... The tow truck driver was nice... Oliver thought the whole process was a huge adventure...and the fact that I wanted the car relocated to the railroad tracks and lit on fire was met with many laughs (though all concerned understood my frustration with the thing). It didn't go on the railroad tracks, and there was no ceremonial burning... but it does have to get a new fuel pump. :( I really need to buy a car.
We stayed home yesterday, to avoid anything else going terribly wrong. And also because we don't have a car until Monday afternoon. Oliver got all mucusy and fevery about half way through the day. The only really good things that happened were...um... well, the Red Wings won (always a good thing)...and I made some pretty awesome fried pickles.
Today I woke up with a massive headache. I still have the headache, and have taken motrin... and there are still tears streaming down my face because it hurts so much. My ears are stuffy. My eyes feel like they're going to pop out of my head.
Such a fun week.
At least I'm getting this out of the way early in the year.
But I think I need to lay with my eyes closed for a while...
We stayed home yesterday, to avoid anything else going terribly wrong. And also because we don't have a car until Monday afternoon. Oliver got all mucusy and fevery about half way through the day. The only really good things that happened were...um... well, the Red Wings won (always a good thing)...and I made some pretty awesome fried pickles.
Today I woke up with a massive headache. I still have the headache, and have taken motrin... and there are still tears streaming down my face because it hurts so much. My ears are stuffy. My eyes feel like they're going to pop out of my head.
Such a fun week.
At least I'm getting this out of the way early in the year.
But I think I need to lay with my eyes closed for a while...
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