English Classes

I sit through
English 108:
Women and Literature.
More like
Women and War.

Greek soldiers,
Mrs. Dalloway,
countless women refugees

Somewhere,
deep within,
a tree creaks under the weight
of
death,
grief,
violence,

I should have --
dropped the class?
But the thought goes
unfinished

Because
it weighs
heavy and silent,
but so, too,
weighs the thought
that perhaps I
should join these authors
some day.

--JDM,
The Girl Who Sits Silent and Listens.

Hello, Dear Friends.

It has been a long while. I know. Summer is not the most productive time for me. For some reason, being given all the time in the world to do whatever I want, I invariably choose to sit on the couch watching Bones or Law and Order, while occasionally picking myself up to go sit on my bed to read a book.

However, now that summer is over, I am in college. Yep -- college. Where the cost of textbooks and the amount of homework both pile up as time goes on.

But this is not really what my blog is about. As I mentioned in my last post, this is a reading/writing blog. So I shall endeavor to explain my reading and writing schedule for the next month.

As my laptop has no Microsoft Word, and I am not entirely fond of Open Office, my writing has been moved to pen and paper. This goes slowly, as I am not used to writing out whole drafts. I hardly manage to write out outlines on paper, and I love outlining. As again, my plot is not anywhere near workable -- I know it is this element that is off, somehow, ringing false in my own head. The pivotal element of my previous plots hinge on actions my character has no inclination to do, for it is outside of her personality to choose such options.

But this time I think I may have it right. I always think this, of course: if I didn't think the plot idea was right, then I wouldn't write out a full draft exploring it. But I am learning more about my work as I progress. Each failed plot, each wrong draft brings me closer to a workable one, because it presents to me new angles through which to see my character and setting, and what themes I want it to reflect.

I had thought I knew everything about Spike. I thought I knew her likes and dislikes, her intelligence and grace, her flaws and arrogance and entitlements. But now I realize I have not been able to discern her next move. When confronted with Enemy A, does she back away? Does she engage in conversation? I am sure she doesn't try to fight it out. That is the one move I know she would never pull. Which is why it is very hard to articulate a plot which moves forward smoothly, and which forces her to take that action she would never do.

The move to pencil and paper is a drastic one. It is different, scrawling it out: it takes more time, and it LOOKS different in my handwriting. But working in a computer lab on campus means leaving my dorm room, and anyways, I do not entirely remember where they are. So I am hoping the change in writing equipment is for the better.

Right now, I need to practice Greek, and read up on Early and Medieval Britain, and yes, to keep writing. But I will try to post once a week regarding books I've read, works I'm writing, and perhaps to recommend certain tips to you about research (as that is what college is good for: taking whole classes so you may learn one crucial detail on how your novel plays out).

Have a blessed day.

  

So, an Update Might Be in Order

In case you hadn't noticed, I changed the theme of my blog around. I liked the black and white and blue, but I needed a change.

Lately, I've been thinking more than usual. If you follow my blog, you might have noticed I've posted much less this summer than I have for most of the year. And mostly, I've been thinking over what I want from this blog. (And about cats.* But that's not unusual from me.)

This blog, evident from its name, is really about the Writer Me. The Reader Me. The part of me who'd spend the rest of her life in a library if she could. And yes, the change in its looks goes into that. I like the slightly more mellow look this has; it looks more relaxed and softer, somehow, and that's what the reader part of me looks like: a girl who likes books, and daydreams about being a fairy, and likes writing about her daydreams.

But I feel like I've begun to lose focus. A lot of what I post are book reviews and ranting against random book-ish topics. I started this blog for that, yes. But a large part of what I post is also personal updates, and why I have trouble following a regular schedule. The Writer Me is not my whole identity. But my "whole identity" isn't really a part of this blog. I didn't start this blog for it to be about my whole identity.

And so, henceforth, I plan on posting more book reviews and more book-related topics. Maybe there'll be the occasional gem dug up through the constant research I go through. But I feel uncomfortable just writing stream-of-consciousness here.

I realize the majority of you lovely readers are probably readers. Maybe you are writers, too. Maybe you review books. That's what we have in common: we love books. That's what this blog is about, sharing a love of books.

Now, that still leaves the matter of the rest of me. Like many writers, I have a life outside of my writing. (If I didn't, I would probably end up on the streets; writing doesn't exactly pay well when you haven't even been published yet.) And I want to talk about that, too.

After a lot of thought, I think I might start up another blog, one on the Student Me. The one that wants to go to college, and get good grades, and learn everything I want to know. (The writer part of me likes to conveniently forget homework and studying that I don't want to do.)

Since I am going off to college, I'll be pretty busy. And running two blogs won't help. So, instead of posting on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays (and failing miserably), I'll likely post on one blog every Monday, and the other every Friday. With maybe the occasional Wednesday post. I'm thinking I'll post on here on Fridays, since the weekend is when I do most of my writing/reading/random research.

But I want to know what you think. Should I keep a separate blog for my more personal life? Or do you like my sporadic, stream-of-consciousness posts under my Life In General tag? Comment on this post or vote in my poll!

Have a blessed July day and enjoy these photo of my sister's kittens. :)

*Odin: his main talents are looking cute and knocking things over. Also, he's very good at being curious and taking his medicine.

Mary Shelley: fun-loving, adorable, and very jealous that she is no longer the center of attention. But I still love her.

Mozart

I found a collection of Mozart's letters translated into English on Scribd. I don't normally use Scribd; usually only my mother uses it, to look up books on knitting and crochet. But I found my Nano draft, which is about Mozart, so in a research frenzy I decided to read through them and take notes.

Here are a few of those notes:

• Born: 17th January 1756 in Salzburg, Austria. Father: Leopold Mozart, an intelligent, ambitious man who's always used his knowledge of music to get ahead. Wolfgang and Nannerl were the only two of Leopold's seven children who survived.
• By the age of four, Mozart required only 30 min. - 1 hour to learn a piece of music. By age five, he was composing short pieces.
• In 1769, letter (in Latin) to his sister: "I should like to know the reason why indolence is so highly prized by very many young men, that neither by words nor blows will they suffer themselves to be roused from it."
• At the very least, he knows Latin and Italian (and, I presume, German). Very knowledgeable about opera and singing, as well.
• Apparently fond of a poet named Herr Gellert (though I believe "Herr" might be a title, not a first name.)
• August 1771: "I don't like to sleep after eating."
• 1777: he gets up at 8:30 in the morning, spends the entire morning composing/writing, then afternoons giving lessons to various individuals, and then after supper he converses with his students or reads a book.
• He always refers to his mother as "mamma," even in 1777 when he is almost 20 years old.
• Seems to be very honest and good-natured; in a letter to his cousin, he rhymes the entire thing.

This is a somewhat short list, but rather specific. And it sort of makes me rethink making him the bad guy in my Nano draft; it's easy to see why no one touches him in regular fiction. But I still want to make him a bad guy, even if it's just because he's too good-humored for me. I think I've settled on making a Bad Guy By Neglect.

Perhaps one day I'll manage to organize and edit this Nano draft into a proper novel. And while he might not figure quite so large a role as the villain, he might still make a great source for tension, busy as he is with all that opera-writing.

Have a blessed day. :)

Small Update

I am really busy with my writing. Currently at around 28,000 words -- 2k less than where I should be. On the other hand, I can't really regret my trip to the library today. (And I only got 10 books this time. That's a good step down from 15 books, when I'm trying to write instead of read!)

In other news, I have trawled through many Wikipedia articles. Some of the ones I have up right now:

• This one, Emperor Ai of the Han dynasty, was a homosexual ruler of China.
• The idea of Hijra in South Asia, where men can dress and act like women;
• Grace O'Malley, (aka Granuaile) the female Irish pirate from the 1500s,
• and Charles d'Eon, a very early openly transgender woman who also happened to be a French soldier and spy.

I do not consider this to be a waste of my time. It does, however, provide me with a lot of distraction and Shiny New Ideas. I mean, tell me -- which of the above could possibly not spark off an idea in the creative brain?!

There's not much else to tell. I've barely finished a book. Too busy writing. Too busy balancing schoolwork/homework with that writing. Not much else to tell.

Have a blessed Monday and Tuesday. :)

Confessions and Comfort

Yes, it's Saturday. I meant this post for yesterday, but my laptop is still out for the count. I'm using my mother's laptop, and she's getting her master's degree online from Liberty University. So, she's on pretty much... always. She's asleep right now.

As you might know from my previous couple posts, I'm participating in Nanowrimo. Or was, until 5k words were lost and I had to switch to using the laptop of a busy woman. But it's not just that, is it? I can't write very well.

Why not? One laptop is as good as another, right? That's the mindset of pretty much everyone around me. But I can't get the words out. At best, I've managed about 1,300 words a day. Closer to 1,000 words, or none at all. In Nano, your target word count per day is 1,667 words.

So, why can't I do it? Why won't the words come? Well, as you can tell from the title of this post, it has to do with my comfort spot.

Let me describe to you the very different rooms of my house in which I find myself:

• My room is the size of a closet. In the corner, stuck between the door -- which actually hits the desk when opened far enough -- and a large, wooden dresser, is my desk. My bed, which takes up most of the room, is just far enough from the desk to make typing while sitting on it very difficult, so there's a small stool jammed between it and the desk, in order for me to not have to balance my laptop in my lap. Strewn across my desk are notebooks, embroidery thread, papers, and a couple of small bottles of paint.
• My mother's workroom, which was my childhood room, has pink and yellow walls, with Winnie the Pooh stickers and crayon scribblings all over them. Probably your average-sized bedroom, and my mom has collected what looks like thousands of crochet magazines over her lifetime. They're everywhere. Her desk is stuck between a bookshelf of Mom's religious reference books and a side table. There's a fish bowl with one of those little beta fish* and a clean mug (also, coincidentally, Winnie the Pooh) that contains all of her pens and pencils, along with a couple of those green Barnes and Noble straws poking out of it. Oh, and let's not forget to mention the hundreds of crosses that now decorate the wall.

I realize that was a pretty solid chunk of description, so let's get down to the main point: the two rooms are as different as night and day. My small, messy room with the furniture looking too large, compared with Mom's very religious-looking room whose walls haven't changed much since I was five years old.

Of course, since Mom has her Master's classes and likes to have her laptop in the same room with all her reference books, I can't just pick it up and take it to my room. Which is a problem.

To put it bluntly, the hundreds of crosses staring at me make me uncomfortable. The many, many Bibles** do, as well. And the reference books, which all have names like How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth (Gordon Fee & Douglas Stuart) and Martin Luther, the Bible, and the Jewish People (Schraam/Stjerna).

I told you -- A LOT of crosses.

It's not that I'm not religious. I am. Quite so. (Very hard not to be, especially when my former preschool doubles as my current baptist church.) It's just that... well, I'm too religious.

I know it's insane. Completely irrational. But during the summers of my childhood, I spent a week in the Pentecostal camp where my grandad lives. And they'd like to tell people that Harry Potter is evil, that fantasy is evil, because it worships magic and witchcraft or whatever.

And... even more beside the computer.

Which makes it kind of hard for me to write fantasy now, in front of an insane number of crosses. Even though I'm a Baptist and I believe that if God gave me the imagination, He probably wouldn't mind my fantasy. And anyways, evidence: C.S. Lewis and Tolkien were both Christian writers, who wrote fantasy, and their stuff is legendary. Pretty mainstream fiction, not the Christian fiction you find only in your typical Lifeway Christian store.

But I can't help feeling it. Feeling this irrational need to avoid fantasy, even though I love it, because when you put it that way...

I know God loves me. I know He wouldn't judge my fantasy writing -- sometimes I even get the hope that in Heaven, He has a giant library with every book in the world, and some of my books will be there, too. It's make-believe, imagination, a tool He gave humans for the purpose of imagining new worlds.

Perhaps, one day, I will write a book in which I suggest thematically that creating a real world, or at least one that feels real, should probably be left to God. Because right now, my world feels realer than the one around me, and I worry when I see those crosses. They remind me of the world around me, that my imagination is not everything here, and that, perhaps, magic needs to be subtler than spells and potions and spontaneous explosions, out here in the real world. I'm almost sad, at that. Like we've constrained something to a small box, to a subtle little area inside of our minds.

Perhaps this is why power goes to your head, when leaders create their own little world, their own society, when they rip down the old society and put up their own. 

This sort of commentary reels through my mind. I get antsy, can listen to music and swivel in the little swivel chair, and I can't write. Because it is truth unwrapped from its gauzy layer of fiction. And it doesn't make sense. Truth doesn't make sense. It makes feelings. And that's why it needs its little coating of fiction, because fiction does make sense, and it can keep the truth in its place.

I need my little comfort spot. I need the peace it brings, how it sets aside those antsy feelings and truth and lets my fingers stop shaking long enough to write.

And perhaps this all sounds a little out there, a little dreamy, like my mind's come untethered and I'm sending you images from the clouds. But I think a comfort spot is more than just comfort. It's a necessary break from the real world. The real world reminds me that there are people who think God wouldn't like my work. My comfort spot lets me know what I think in the matter.

I hope this makes sense to you.

Have a blessed day.

[EDIT: I hand-counted all of them. There are 113 crosses in my mother's workroom, give or take a couple. Still, a formidable number of crosses, wouldn't you agree?]



*Yea, his name is Jeffrey. After my Uncle Jeff, even though Uncle Jeff is from my Dad's side of the family.
**Let's put it this way: my aunts have seventy pairs of shoes and a Bible between them. My Mom has seventy Bibles and one pair of shoes.

Not Impressed.

Hi, guys. My laptop crashed. Not at all impressed.

What I lost by my laptop breaking:

• The first 5,000 words or so of my nanowrimo project.
• The first 10,000 words of my Spike novel (as I dub it. I keep switching between calling it that Spike novel and WR.)
• My entire bookmarks tab on Google Chrome. I use the bookmarks tab as a sort of placeholder for all the articles and blog posts I haven't gotten around to reading. And for the articles I find helpful, such as the link to the Amazon collection of coloring books from the lovely, honest blog, A Little Dose of Keelium. 
• Assorted poems, Microsoft word docs, and wordpad notes on everything from random names and plot devices to a dictionary of weird words (which I have since moved to a spiral notebook, which is in no danger of crashing and deleting itself.)

As you can probably tell, I am a bit upset. So, here is the song I've been listening to over and over. (If you're wondering how I'm writing this, the sad fact is I've borrowed my Mom's laptop. Which is a 2013 laptop and looks TOTALLY DIFFERENT from my laptop made in 2010.)

Have a blessed Wednesday. And, here's hoping your laptop doesn't throw a fit and delete all of your stuff, along with preventing you from even turning it on! 

Happy Dia de Los Muertos, and Happy Nanoing!

Hi! It's Friday, it's the First of November, and you know what that means. It's Nanowrimo. It's the Day of the Dead. And it happens to the start of what hopefully is a great month.

First off, Nanowrimo -- writing a novel in a month. Yes, I'm participating. (Q: What should I be doing write right now? A: Not writing blog posts!) My idea is weird, and involves rebellions, other worlds, and Mozart. It's titled "The Wolfgang" for right now. I might be referring to it obsessively over the next month, and shall usually abbreviate it to WG.

Now, yea, I haven't finished my other draft. I'm decently sure I can keep up 3k words a day -- 2,000 words for WG, and 1,000 for WR. ("Wretched Roads". Mages, healers, and curses, if you care to know.)

As for Dia de los Muertos... It's a Mexican holiday celebrated on November 1st and 2nd, honoring dead loved ones. I've written about it before, a couple weeks ago. So instead of a long rant on something that has little relevance, here's a list of Spanish words:

• Calaveras -- skulls. Also, there are calaveras de azucar (accent on the u), which are sugar skulls. 
• Calacas -- skeletons.  From what I know, these are very popular, like Halloween skeletons are popular: toy skeletons on the altars or for the children, cloth/plastic ones on poles that they parade through the street, etc.
• Altar -- well, an altar. Not too hard to figure out. The table on which they set offerings of food, flowers, and photographs to the dead loved one.
• Cempachusil (accent on u) -- marigolds. They put these "flor de los muertos" (flowers of the dead) on the graves or altars of loved ones. 
• El pan de los muertos -- bread of the dead. Literally, bread they leave on the altar for their loved ones.

 

November is a grand, brown-ish, most-definitely-autumn month. It generally means cold, lack of sleep, picking up the academic pace, and writing a novel for me. But it's also full of colorful leaves, and days off from school for Thanksgiving, and snuggling under five or six different blankets without feeling stifling-hot.

So, here's to dead people, writing too much too fast, and a brown month full of leaves and cold. Who says a little cold is bad for you, after all? It clears your lungs from all those words that scratch at your ribcage, ready to crawl out.

Have a blessed Friday and weekend!

Another Post on Nanowrimo

So, you've probably noticed (if you're a writer or reader who follows writing blogs) all the talk on Nanowrimo, or National Novel Writing Month, which starts November 1st. And here's my pitch-in about it.

Personally, I love Nanowrimo. I wrote the first full draft of my novel during nano -- you see off to the side, where there's a lovely little thing that declares, "2012 Nano Winner"? Yes, that was it. Writing 50,000 words in a month is difficult -- seemingly impossible in October 2012 -- but with the Nano group, I persevered for perhaps the first time in my life and managed to do it.

And now, a year later, I am struggling down a similar cliff of impossibility.

While it's technically cheating, I've been thinking of writing the 4th draft of my novel. I want to include undertones of Celtic Mythology into it, and the plot is so different, that in a way, it almost isn't cheating. I've jumped from kidnapping her brother to sort of banishing my MC to another dimension. Which is a pretty big jump.

On the other hand, I have other story ideas I want to get to, new novels to write and new things to plan. I've been working on my current novel -- which I've dubbed in my head "Wretched Roads," or WR -- since... oh gracious. Since middle school, four to five years ago.

I want something new. But I'm pretty sure this next draft of WR is it. I can't give up on it now.

So, I'm beginning to play on the idea of writing two novels at once -- WR and another draft I like to think of as TW, "The Wolfgang." And, of course, that idea is almost more terrifying than moving on.

Write two novels at once, with the help of Nanowrimo? Or focus on one? I can't give up on WR, even though I'm sorely tempted. It's grown quite close to my heart, and seems almost done. But I can't keep writing it without exercising creative prowess in other works. My heart will wither if there's no more imagination but the same played-out characters and settings.

I think, since WR is going to be serious, and around 80k words, that I will start it now, in October. I have plenty of it mapped out already; it's just plot and how I write character, description, and action that needs to be worked out. And come November 1st, I will have over 25k words written for it. Then I can decelerate to about 1k a day, and write 2k of TW during Nanowrimo...

I've easily written 3k words a day every day. I've also easily written only 1k a day for a month. And easily written 2k when I need somewhere in between. Nanowrimo requires 1600 words a day... and that leaves 1400 more I can write.I might lose a little sleep, but the best works are born out of late nights.

(Listen to me, puzzling out the factors and word counts. My math teacher would be proud.)

The idea is beginning to grow on me. Nanowrimo certainly has its benefits -- or hindrance, whichever you think. It's given me the temptation to write two novels, yes. And given me the confidence (which may or not be false) to think I can do it. But it's also given me the option of not failing. Even if I don't finish 50k on one novel during the month of November, then I will have written 50k between two novels.

And while I'm intimidated, I think I can split my time -- especially since I'm starting one of them half a month early.

Have a blessed Wednesday. 

Photography, Colds, and Writing

Thank goodness it's Friday. Truly.

Do you know that annoying person who doesn't cover their mouth when they cough? And not just once or twice, accidentally; people who cough into the air of their room, go upstairs and cough in your living room, and in your kitchen, all over your food...

Yea, I'm talking about a member of my family. My youngest brother -- who just started 6th grade -- never covers his mouth when he coughs, and now the rest of the family has it. Mostly me at this point -- he's had it several days, then my mom and sister fell sick, and my dad, and now me, the girl whose time spent happily locked up in her room serves a useful purpose.

Except now I've been sneezing and my nose dripping; I've been covertly wiping liquid snot-stuff over the sleeves of my jacket all school day. (Yes, and I am one of those people who goes to school even when she's sick, and so gets everyone else sick. We all have our flaws.) My throat
feels like sand has gritted the inside of that tube that leads from your mouth to your lungs. My eyes are sore and sticky, and I haven't slept or showered since Wednesday. Or Tuesday. But I've finally caught up on most of the school stuff I needed doing.

Thankfully, in spite of the Cold from Dante's Inferno,* I have not had a terrible time. I made my first primitive photograph in photography class. Here's the process:

• First, you have to expose a sheet of photo (light sensitive) paper to white light in the dark room. This means positioning it under a machine that looks sort of like a microscope, except it shines down light on the thing you're doing instead of observing it closely. And it means adjusting that machine to the right setting of intensity, making sure the light is focused, making sure the frame of light is big enough to cover the entire sheet of photo paper...
• Exposing takes about five seconds. You position the photo paper beneath the enlarger (so the microscope-like machine is called), position the object whose image you want to make on top of it, and then you turn it on and white light floods the little area of paper. 
• After that, you dip it in a chemical called Dektol (developer), a soapy-like, basic liquid. Basically, it makes the white photo paper turn black, except for the white shape of your object. You keep it there a minute to a minute and a half. 
• The second chemical you dip it in is called Stop Bath. It's a yellow color, because when you transfer the paper from Tray A to Tray B, some Dektol inevitably ends up in the tray of Stop Bath. Stop Bath actually is an acid, so it neutralizes the Dektol. Eventually, as the effectiveness of the Stop Bath wears down, it turns a purple-y color, thereby alerting you to change the liquid. You keep it in this tray for 30 seconds. 
• The THIRD chemical is a smelly (vinegar-like) liquid called fixer. It makes the image permanent. You dip it in there for 3-4 minutes. 
• Finally, you get to rinse the residual chemicals off the paper by putting it in this large, round sink for ten minutes. The water spins around, so it can wash it properly. 
• Then you squeegee it. You lay the paper on a piece of plexiglass, and use this rubber thing to scrape the excess water off both sides of the paper.
• Next, there's what's called a print dryer. It's a machine in which you lay the paper on its flat surface, pull a stretch of worn, warm canvas over it, and lock it into place. You rub the canvas for a minute, unlock the canvas's metal-rimmed edge from the side of the machine, and turn your photograph over to the back side. Then you lock it into place and rub the canvas for another minute.



Found here, via Wiki/CC. This is what it's supposed to look like!

• And voila! Your photograph is ready. As long as you didn't mess up on any stage of the process. 

So, yes, that's the entire process I went through, to end up with a black paper, no image. Apparently, I didn't expose the paper correctly, though my teacher assured me I did the chemical part correctly.

How was that for a story? Well, not really a story. More of an anecdote of how to make it through a class period when you barely know what you're doing. And, speaking of stories, the third draft of my story is turning out suck-ish, thank you for asking. I'm so sick and busy that when I do get a free moment to work on it, I find that I want to sleep instead of write, and nothing comes out onto the paper. (Metaphorically speaking, of course. I type my stories out on my laptop.)

But anyways, for those of you who didn't know, this is how you make a photograph without a camera! It's an interesting experience. Hopefully, I'll make an image next class. And also hopefully, by next class my nose won't be dripping into the water wash.

Hope you have a blessed Friday and weekend! Get better at the things you love, get over sicknesses, and get a proper amount of sleep!

*You know by Dante's Inferno I mean the h-word, right? The devil's homeplace? I just have a ton of trouble including even the mildest of inappropriate words, in both speech and in writing.