Of Two Things I'm Certain

Being in your twenties is possibly the most confusing time of my life. Not only have I just left my past self behind, but I have yet to discover who my future self will be. Trapped in the middle like this is both frightening and amazing, for its almost as though you're caught in the middle of an adventure. I can tell my writing reflects this. In my revision, my main characters struggle for belonging and identity. In my WIP, my main character struggles to remember himself (he has lost his memory) and discover his identity by combining past memories with ones he makes in the present. I know that writing these will help me find myself, too. 

And that's how I plan to get through it all, by writing. 

When I left school, leaving the image of "Jess always doing her homework" behind, I was scared. What if I was only good at school--at taking tests, writing essays, answering short-answer questions? All the homework would end. After that, what would I do with all my free time? How would I handle getting a full-time job? These are just the start of all the questions. For example, we could follow with the struggle to (A) make money, (B) maintain an interest in my job, (C) the desire to move to an apartment, (D) the desire to get a new car, (E) unable to do any of these things because I'm paying off loans... I'm sure your situation was or is similar to mine. 

Through all these changes in beliefs, in friends, in who I want to become, I have two things I am sure of. 

1. I am not on the path to becoming a "What Not To Wear" horror story. I used to watch this show all the time during the summer because it was on every day at noon, so I turned it on when eating lunch and quickly became pulled into the episode, especially if there was a marathon going on. My mother always dresses really nice, and with her as my guide, I have been doing the same. (Although, I type this with a frumpy sweatshirt on. Hey, it's cold!) Regularly purging my closet, something I am in need of doing soon, has kept me on top of things, despite how difficult it may be with my colitis. Every time I get a flare my jeans could fit differently, so buying the correct size is of optimum importance. As I dress I hear Mom's voice in my ear: "What, no earrings? How about a necklace?" 

2. I will always be writing. This grounds me more than anything. I love it. It helps me talk myself through my problems, whether I am writing in my journal or a blog post or even a novel, as mentioned above it seems as if I am using that outlet--that of my character's identities--to discover my own. I have been writing stories since I was five years old. My ideas are plentiful. If I do not write I will explode. Despite all the confusion I may have during the day, it vanishes as soon as I begin. 

It is quite relieving to have two things to ground me, leaving me with just enough courage to explore the unknown. 

Revising Goals

This week I reevaluated and thought out my goals for the revision I'm working on.

When I first began in the fall, I made my goal to finish the revision before June. One of my favorite beta readers is finished with school then, so she'll be able to dive in without being worried about homework. Another possible beta works at a school, so he can read while there are no kids in the building. However, I soon realized, when I finished Part 1 of the revision in December, which is the longest part, that this would change.

 

It seemed like a miracle; I would be able to finish revising sooner.

So my new goal became May 1 to have it completed. It still gave my betas the time frame they need, and it also gave me additional time to read my story and revise it before handing it over. I was to complete Part 2 before March 1. 

March 1 has passed, and I am well into Part 3, into the new parts of the climax. Its scary, and rather exciting, so my goal is to be revised again, but in every good way possible. I'm so excited to reread this and give it to my betas, and even more eager to work on my next series I have plotted out and planned already. 

My new goal? Finish the revision by April 1. Once I am done, I will print it out and stick it in a binder. I also want to shrink the pages down and get a look at it that way, just to try an interesting new form of revision (a blog post will follow on this). Once all my paperwork is completed, I will set my novel aside and--with enormous difficulty--ignore its existence. 

In between April and May, I have various other projects to work on. One is a recipe book for my mother, another a purge of various paperwork in my room, another a T-Shirt quilt. Will this distract me from my writing? Or will I need to actually work on real writing to help myself forget it? We will have to see! How did you wait out your month? 

At the start of May, I will begin revising and reading, including reading it aloud to find errors and reading it to myself to find errors. 

Sometime in June--which is a rough estimate--I will print and hand the revised copy out to betas. I am so excited for someone to read this and even more thrilled that the plot has ended up the way it has. It's come so far, and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Setting goals is so important for me and one of the few ways I manage to get things done, that and the prospect of crossing something off of my to-do list. I plan to write down this list of goals and hang it in my room so whenever I pass it I am reminded to keep working, to never give up, and to pursue my dreams, no matter what the consequences. 

Letting Go of a First Love

From underneath my bookshelf, I pull a Harry Potter Deluxe Journal, complete with built-in light and an illustration of Harry on the cover, riding his broom. I remember receiving it, probably from a Scholastic book fair, eager to begin writing in it. This is my first journal, from 2004, when I was in fifth grade. Settling down on my bed, I start to read--noting that most of it has to do with Harry Potter, making my life more Harry Potter, and becoming increasingly more obsessed with Harry Potter as the year progresses in my journal. Well, nothing's changed there. 

Turning one page, I read to the end and stop. Up until this point, I make references to story ideas and what short story I am working on at the moment. Here is what I found, the reference to the next story I was working on, just a blip, but it's there, nonetheless.

Currently, this is the revision I am working on,
what once was just the "Silver Necklace Legend."

Laying the journal down on the bed, I cover my mouth with my hands in amazement. Eleven Years. Of course, it hasn't been a constant eleven years. Between then and now, not only have I worked on other stories, but I also have worked on school papers and taken breaks from writing. Yet throughout those years, this story has transformed.

Basically me with this story. 

And this revision I started a little more than a week ago will be my last. Once I write it and complete editing afterwards, that's it.

I believe I'm having a hard time letting go of this story since it is so ingrained in my mind. Some of the characters are even completely original; meaning, their character arc may have matured, but their name, place within the story, and entrance into the story have not. Writing for them is like writing about myself; they are close friends. How can I let go of something that intimate?

The answer? Because I have to.

In middle school, I moved "The Silver Necklace," which since then has changed titles many times, onto my laptop, a Dell 2000 whose only purpose was to serve my writing needs. I completed 80 pages of pure, inventive creativity, or twelve chapters. And then, one afternoon after reorganizing folders in My Documents, I'd opened my story only to discover I'd deleted it by accident. I had clicked on the shortcut to the document, and deleted the actual document--emptying the recycle bin in a burst of organizational inspiration.

All of it was gone. I was in eighth grade.

I wrote about this event in my journal at the time:

Although at the start it was still a tragedy, it became a blessing as I worked to rebuild. In a notebook, I timelined everything I could remember (I still have it filed away), and came up with an ending to the first installment of "The Silver Necklace." I know that because I deleted that 80 page copy, I was granted the gift of looking at it critically.

Drafts later, a short break where I thought I was "finished with that story for good," and here I am, at the end of it all. Can it already be the end? I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye to all of my favorite characters, one of which will probably end up being THE ultimate favorite, simply because he is the oldest character in my story. It'll be a challenge, but I know this is a challenge I have to complete. Finishing a story, adding "The End," and starting fresh--without ideas for "The Silver Necklace" turning over in my mind in the background--is the first step. The second is letting go.

I've still got plenty of time before the final goodbye. For now, I will enjoy every minute I'm in my character's heads.

Back to the Blog--and a Little Wiser, Too

The roller coaster hit me hard, and somehow I’ve managed to emerge on the other side happy, full of adrenaline, and somewhat whole.

I previously wrote how my job was making me unhappy. Not wanting to write is my worst nightmare. This job—sitting at a computer for hours typing in the same information—did just that. Even as I continued working there, I knew I had to leave. Soon. 

What else happened? In mid-August, my colitis flared up for the first time since I’d been diagnosed in July 2012. I can say now that it was a learning experience because I know what to expect next time it hits. The most difficult thing was that I could justify myself going to work. It wasn’t like my boss was in the dark about the subject, her daughter has colitis, but it’s who I am. When I was little and too sick to go to school, my mom would have to hold me back from running for the bus. I can honestly say, in that regard, nothing has changed.

So, when my job at the company ended, it was a huge relief. What I needed was rest and lots of it on my time away from working. I napped every day with Raven, my four month old kitten, and by the end of the week interviewed at another company, and landed the job. I would start Monday.

My new job is a breath of fresh air. It’s a small company with maybe seven people at most working there every day, compared to the large one I was at before. We talk, we laugh, we get work done, we say bless you when someone sneezes (which no one did at my other job, weird), we get to know each other. Most importantly, I do different things. I answer and make phone calls, I work with filing, I organize, and…GAH! Doing multiple things—scratch that, LEARNING multiple things at a job, about a local company, is a privilege. All of this I can take with me onto the next job, and the next, and the next.

Now, I’ve been wondering why my perceptions of jobs has changed. This job by no means is my dream job, but so far I’m not dreading going there (it’s only been a week, though, so we’ll have to see when that changes!). I think I’ve discovered that in order to find time to write, I have to force time to write, even if it’s in small patches. I’ve discovered that writing is my priority, but while I’m writing I can work, too, and gain more skills along the way.

Writing is what makes me happy, and adding it to my day is by no means a burden. I’m sure you can understand. It feels good to finally have answers to some questions bouncing around in my mind. But I’m still only 22, so there’s bound to be more—and soon!  

Quite Simply, I Fell in Love

On top, the VHS I got when I was 9.
All the way to the right, the Sorcerer's Stone book
that I destroyed in my love. 

The sight of the move trailer on the television sparked my interest. Wide-eyed, I told my mom later that movie, and, of course, she repeated her mantra: “You have to read the book, first.” It was okay, though, because she had a copy of it in the classroom she worked in at the local school.

that I wanted to see

She handed me the copy, and I ran my fingers over the strange, golden letters of the title. I looked at the cover that showed a boy flying: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I was eight years old, and by the time I was done reading it, the book cover was so destroyed with the pleasure of reading that my mom told me I could keep it and she’d buy another one for the classroom.

There are many stories in my life connected with the Harry Potter series. At my ninth birthday party, for example, as I blew out the candles I wished for the Sorcerer’s Stone VHS. Guess what was in the first present I opened from my grandparents? When I was ten, I received a magazine with the new film’s details on the inside spread. Those pages were so destroyed that I ended up tearing them from the magazine, and I still have them in a binder. I remember waiting in line for Prisoner of Azkaban that stretched across the parking lot, and some man stepped out of line at the front and shouted, “DUDE HARRY POTTER IS SOLD OUT!” Or receiving my copy of Half Blood Prince at a midnight party after taking an eerie, nighttime walk, and on the way home I took my book light out to read in the car. (“Don’t stay up all night reading!” Mom told me.)

I am so grateful for this series, and I wouldn’t know where I would be without it. It might not have begun my journey into reading and writing, but it definitely enhanced it. Not only that, but it also enhanced my life. I read the first book when I was eight years old and saw the final movie at age eighteen. Ten Years.

Pretty much.

In high school, that’s what drew us together. I met a friend in gym class over the love of Harry Potter, one girl I befriended in Spanish class over our love of writing and the series, another I met freshmen year in science—I am still friends with them today. We talked about the upcoming films, planned our Deathly Hallows Part 2 midnight showing, laughed about the Starkid musicals…

I suppose I came here to say that when I started reading that first Harry Potter book in 2001, I didn’t expect to fall in love. And I wouldn’t have dreamed that fourteen years later, I would still be just as obsessed and in love (probably a teensy bit more obsessed).

I JUST LOVE HARRY POTTER OKAY. *cuddles with books and films and tshirts and posters and ties and wands and magazine articles and…*

#FP - Week Three

Week Three

The lion woke up surprised to find a small child standing before him. She pulled at his mane. “Get up, our adventure won’t wait.”

The man cried, “Aid me! Kill the most evil man in the land!

The wizard smiled. “It’s done. You already drank the poison this morning.”

Her headache grew worse and worse until finally she took off her head and threw it against the wall. Much better.

In a heartbeat, the assassin feel dead at her feet. Stumbling back, alarms ringing in her ears, she looked towards the trees.

Her fear outweighed her common sense. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She held her breath, closed her eyes, and let go. #WIP 

Writing For 100 Days (Actually, 101)

As a college student, one of the most difficult ideas to wrap my head around was how to sneak my writing into my schedule. During my last semester, I held three jobs: one 15+ hours/week, one 12 hours/week, and one 2 hours/week. In addition to that, I was taking all English classes--including my senior seminar and a fiction workshop. With more than 100 pages to read every night, writing for fun was daunting.

I'll admit it, I did not write a lot that semester. Or any semester of college, in fact. My priority for good grades outweighed my writing goals. 

One of my friends changed this. The entire time I've known him (a little more than a year now), he has been asking me, "Did you write today?" Of course, I would answer, "No, I have a lot of homework..." Glancing at me, he'd respond, "Come on, you have to write." 

When I graduated, he'd come up with an idea: To write every day, and after so many days, to increase that amount. We started at 1000 words and have worked our way up to 2000. I had my doubts at first, but overall it's been a rewarding experience. 

Writing every day no matter what empties me, calms me, gives me something to look forward to at the end (or the beginning) of the day. I can also remember what I've written, which is lucky since I have a hard time keeping track of what my character's look like. It gives me a chance to finish a project--and this I love since writing every day, increasing the amount, would be great for a first draft. Part of my 100 days was spent writing one. 

Yet, keeping on track can be overwhelming, and I am reaching that point now. To have to sit down every day and work on something that that is not as exciting as it once was...drains your spirit. 

101 days of writing--straight, no breaks, no skips--is giving me clarity into what I want my writing routine to look like, for current and future projects. What once was a jumbled mess of "how will I fit it into my schedule?", becomes a way to not only keep myself from getting drained, but also teaches me how to fit writing (the equivalent of breathing) into my work schedule. 

At this point in the process, I am not sure how long I will continue writing for the next 101+ days, but I know I will make every effort. 

#FP - Week Two

Week two is brought to you by these five Friday Phrases, from Friday's past!

• She ran. The portal was on the other side of campus. If she wasn't quick enough, the battle would be lost. Her father would be killed.

• As she wrote in her notebook, she found a small note stuck on the other side of the cover. "Write my story next, please?"

• In the late hours researching, she fell asleep with her head bent, smelling the pages of the book. Marvelous.

• The old man was said to have possessed magic. But on the other side of his fingernails, we found no trace of it.

• He didn’t want to go to sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he would witness a nightmare—a hell he couldn’t escape. 

Welcome to My Bookshelf

My current "to read" pile. There are more on my shelf.
I wonder when this will topple over...

As we get to know each other more, I decided it would be interesting to give you a tour of the books on my "favorites shelf." Originally, I was able to fit all of my favorites on it; however, since then my collection of books has grown to encompass the top row of two bookshelves, and, really, no shelf at all.



There are some that have earned their place on my "favorites shelf" more recently. Such as:

• The Essential Don Murray, by Thomas Newkirk and Lisa C. Miller. I bought this book for class with only one thought in mind: "Who is Don Murray and why is he essential?" As I read, it was strange. Don Murray was an old friend. I recognized his advice that had been sparkled across my Twitter feed, my Writer's Digest magazines, and many more books. This collection of essays was so interesting to me and full of good advice.

• This is NOT A Writing Manual, by Kerri Majors. No exercises or anything of the sort to follow. The author presents her journey into the writing world and everything that helped her along the way. After finishing it, I found a list of possible jobs young writers want to go into. When I told one of my friends about this book, she had only one question: Why doesn't the creative writing curriculum at our school make this a required reading?

Other books have made their claim on my shelf, and will remain there. 

• Shel Silverstein. My guess is that the first book of his I received was Where the Sidewalk Ends, since that book is the one that is splitting down the middle. As a kid, I loved to read his poems and fall up into whatever world he created there. Life can be chaotic, especially once reaching adulthood. These remind me to have fun with whatever I'm doing or whatever project I'm working on. I read his book so often when I was little that now when I free write my own poetry, it comes out sounding similar to his. 

• The Barnum Museum, by Stephen Millhauser.  It's a book of Millhauser's short stories, and they are so wonderfully crafted that I want to scream to the world to read them. Yet...then again, he is such a good writer that I want to keep this secret to myself. A lot of it is description, but it's interesting (aka not Nathaniel Hawthorne) description. And its fantasy. 

What do you mean, obsessed with Harry Potter?
(Below is an extension of the favorite's shelf.)

(Sidenote: Harry Potter, my favorite book series, would be on my favorites shelf, except it doesn't have a place on my shelf since it would take up so much of it. It sits on top of my shelf, along with many other books on the subject, an extra Chamber of Secrets DVD, and two VHS's from the first two films.) 

What books are on your favorite's shelf? I would love to hear! 

#FP - Week 1

I have been keeping track of my Friday Phrases, thanks to Timehop!

How about I share them? Every Friday, until I run out (or come up with more!). They will include some that are recent, but most will be older.

Week One

• Eleanor’s voice was calm. “My story will be heard—that time will come. Until then, I wait my turn on the other side of Jessica’s brain.”

digitalblasphemy.com 

• “To get out of the book,” he said, “You have to work your way through the book—to the other side. When it’s the end, you’ll be free.”

• “The other side of the universe is a far drive m’lady, just relax.” Heeding the captain’s words, I pulled my book out and started to read.

• This world was perfect, but not like the other. Touching the mirror’s cold glass, she wondered how she could get back to the other side.

• On the other side of the bookcase, she found no hidden passageway. She found a book that had fallen: the diary of her great grandmother.