Update: Conquering Revision

It can be difficult to take a different approach to a story that's been worked on for ten to twelve years. In fact, I believe that's what my problem has been in past revisions: I kept too close to the original, so close that my writing style from way back when leaks into my new draft. Over the years, plot has shifted, yet old ideas still persist with a stubborn attitude. In September, I started my last plot revision of the project and became determined to rewrite it all. Not only was this my revision technique now, but it will also become, possibly, the way I revise in the future. No pressure?

One of the issues I have when I write is that I come up with a great idea for a scene, write it down, and then forget about it. If the paper is not in front of me, I write an entirely new version of the scene. Later, upon finding the original idea, I battle myself. Idea A, or Idea B? Usually I go with the latter, for the simple reason that the new idea is more interesting than the old one. This is all good and fine for first drafts. What about revisions? Before starting, I knew that would be my main problem. If I continued flying past the old plot notes, this draft would become a first draft and we would be at square one.

Not an option!

Instead of messy papers everywhere on my desk, I made a master notes list, split into at least six sections. The first was history of my land that I re-built in so many ways, which influenced the present day of the story. Next came the changes to the culture of the people. This was followed by the parts my story is actually split into. I began making mini-outlines (at least, this is how Part 1's section goes), but they evolved into adding the main differences to each section, which included "In-Between" (there is a space of about two years between Part 1 and Part 2), Part 2, and Part 3. If I consulted this packet of notes, I would not forget a lot of it. 

It was a nice thought, anyway. I did check on that packet; although, as time went on I found my notes were not here. In fact, they were paper clipped together and stuck in the binder of the copy of my book I was checking. If I was finished with a particular note, it did not linger--I put it in a folder on my desk of old notes from that story.

The other problem--a much larger one--was how to revise the plot and my writing style without letting those pesky phrases from younger me slipping in. Before, I simply copied the page, typing it all up over again in order to find any errors. 

No!

This time around, I realized what I should do is reread the scene I am about to write, and close the binder. No more peeking. Ideas that I enjoyed would stay fresh in my memory, while at the same time allowing my writing to improve. If a scene did not hold a great change to the plot, I copied it, but this was rarely done. My routine became to reread the old scene, reread the writing I had written the day before, and then start writing the new scene. Anything forgotten was not important anymore. 

Learning to revise in the way that fits me best is an ongoing effort, as it is for us all. How do you revise? I'd love to hear! 

Returning to and Discovering Myself

November of 2014 began with the most unexpected thing--my break up with the first person I'd ever been in a relationship with.

Looking back, I was blind, forgetting everything I wanted, and this break up did nothing but bring me good. 

At the time, my entire world shattered. I consulted close, comforting friends, and pulled myself away from him. It was a long and difficult process. 

Since I was enveloped in it at the time, I really had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea until November 2015, when posts from that time showed up on my Timehop. 

I would like to call these posts "A Return to Myself." Whoever I lost while I was in that relationship I seemed to find again through these strange, little acts of rebellion. On my own again, I was left with one question: Who was I? So, I set about answering it.

Truly a rebellion. It was both exciting and worthy of nausea.

One of my favorite outfits at that time were my black leggings, my black Within Temptation t-shirt, and bright, orange shoes. I also wore, at some point at my internship, bright orange tights with a black and white dress. I was sad, yes, but not depressed because being single again meant I could do anything--move away even, if I desired it. 

More rebellions surfaced as I scrolled through my Timehop. This one was particularly notable: 

One of my friends was in the play, and it was REALLY good!

What inspired this? Part of me believes that I just wanted to get out of my bedroom at school, go see new things. In the crowd of a theatre, I would not be alone. Except the way this is written shows it might be a little more than that. It was my senior semester of college--time to write my seminar paper--and instead of being productive, I trudged through the cold to see a play. New clothes, new routine, wonder what came next?

Yup. 

For my entire college career I battled the huge and heavy, broken mouse, cover breaking apart computer, and it seemed now was the time to do some researching. Not only that, but it was also time to do something I had always wanted:

I've always loved red/ginger hair.

As I read through these, I wondered if I suppressed all this while I was in a relationship. Yet, in the process of being in the relationship, I grew as a person. Afterwards, it became time to grow again.

This journey was not an easy one, and I am happy to say that I have discovered myself since then. I learned what I believe in, who I am, and what I want my life to be like when I move out of my parent's house. The small rebellion of November 2014 will have a special place in my heart, for both the choices I made and these heartwarming Tweets that showcase my thought process at the time. 

Quoth the Raven, "Meow?"

Meet Raven. We got her for free over the summer.
Head and tail of a Siamese, black coat with hidden stripes, and
 brown eyes.

She's very curious and nosy.

She loves to help me read,

and enjoys watching TV; particularly,
Scooby-Doo.

Her fashionable carrier, decorated by yours truly!

She's very modern, loving to watch the keyboard and
mouse, and uses touch screen devices.

Here she is in a deep, deep sleep.

She used to fit under the bathroom vanity, but those
days are long gone. 

Diary of a Picky Eater: Week 2

This week, unfortunately, there was not much I tried in terms of "new food." Finding foods that (A) I can eat with my colitis and (B) are healthy for me is a struggle. I wish I had the time to endlessly cook these things at home (and the skill, now that I think about it), but my days are filled with work and writing. The only time I have to cook is at night, with my mom.

On the plus side, I have been adding more fruit into my lunchbox, and hummus! A year or so ago, if I'd eaten hummus, I would have felt as though I was going to vomit. It was something about the texture. Then, one summer afternoon, my grandmother took out hummus and bagel chips for a snack, and I tried it. What happened, taste buds? I can't get enough now! Of course, since I can't have raw vegetables, I eat hummus with--you guessed it--carbs, but it's a start to the healthier lifestyle I need.

At my house, once I got back from college, I started to realize we ate, for the most part, the same things every week for dinner. We'd have pasta, steak, hamburger, take out, and cycle through them the next week, occasionally adding in something different. And most of it is beef--for my colitis, meat like chicken or fish is a better option. It is now my goal to add more of this into our dinner.

Let me tell you, it's a struggle.

The good news is, with winter approaching, we've started to make Sunday nights our soup night, which means endless possibilities for yummy cooked vegetables, meat, and nutrients that will help me feel better. Last week, I helped make a chicken noodle soup that turned out delicious!


This week...

Manhattan Clam Chowder. Like hummus, this is something else I thought I hated until I ate it a couple of summers ago at a local eatery. Taste buds, you shock me again! Except this time it was homemade, so we added whatever our hearts so desired, and it came out amazing. We made Manhattan style because I cannot have dairy, eliminating what I imagine is a delicious New England Style Clam Chowder from the menu.

Raspberries. I tried this at the request of my brother, who was munching them down one by one. It tasted good, except rather sour. I don't mind the flavor. But it was the texture that got me; it was all squishy and blech! I'm the type of person who enjoys fruits like grapes crisp and crunchy, not to mention cold. I think I'll try this in a smoothie soon.

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.

Diary of a Picky Eater: Week 1

The news my colitis (the simplest definition? an irritation of the colon) was getting worse did not sit well with me. What made matters worse was that my doctor was prescribing me heavy-duty meds to make everything better.

That is, if one thing didn’t work, he would try the other.

This means I only have a limited time until the inevitable.

And it got me thinking. Since the symptoms of colitis (most common one is diarrhea, for me) can be prevented through my food choices, what foods am I eating that are actually doing me harm? Most of my diet is compromised of red meat and carbs. Typically, I avoid fruits and veggies of all kinds since *shudder* they taste icky.

Except, not only has it been a long time since I tried those foods, but the foods I eat a lot of typically aren’t good for those with colitis. In fact, in some people, red meat is known to cause flare ups of symptoms.

I knew it was time to try more foods and stick to them. This is my “Diary of a Picky Eater,” and I will be blogging what foods I try as I go through the weeks since I do not enjoy any foods of the kind that are good for me to eat.

Oh boy, this is going to be…fun?

1. That Awful Stuffed Mushroom. It was an endeavor I should have never attempted, but when my mom offered me a mushroom stuffed with crab, I swallowed hard and held it aloft in the air, crying, “For my colon!” and bit into the gooey, horrible, bad tasting mess. (I spit it out. I won’t be trying mushrooms again soon.)
2. Chicken Pot Pie Failure. Because Chicken Pot Pies usually feature unslightly foods like carrots or—cover your eyes, kids!—peas, I was not too eager to try this particular pie. Whenever we eat it at home, I usually make something for myself so I can avoid any peas. Yet this time, I was ready. Mom sliced the pie open…and….it was nothing but chicken and some sort of cream. There was one carrot in the entire pie. We’d gotten it from the frozen section. Next week I’m requesting we make our own. 
3. Chicken Noodle Soup with Spinach, Carrots, Celery, and Onions. First of all, YUM! I love chicken noodle soup normally, but the addition of the celery, spinach, and onions was a big deal. I made sure to chop the spinach up into smaller pieces, so it wouldn’t be floating around like little green monsters. (“You just throw it in,” my mom said as I did this, but I ignored her.) And, success! Instead of leaving a pile of food left over in my bowl, I cleaned off the entire thing. Spinach and all!
4. Butternut Squash Ravioli with Tomato Sauce. Deep breath! On this day, I had no meat whatsoever for supper. It was a good thing my mom was sitting down because she witnessed me eat an entire plate of butternut squash ravioli! The tomato sauce covered up what might have been some awful tastes (although I tasted nothing but deliciousness), and my mom later bragged to relatives about how I ate this dish. I’m hoping to try it with different sauce next time.
5. Almond Milk, Strawberry/Banana Smoothie. Not much to say here, except why didn’t I try this sooner?!

A brave week, and all better for both my entire body and my colitis. At this point, though, I’m just hoping I can keep it up! 

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!