Over the weekend, an old friend of mine suggested that I do a "blog challenge." Write something new everyday for a month. Well, it seemed like a good idea, and inspiring as well. She has taken part in month long photo challenges of her own you see. She's quite a talented artist/photographer, check her out at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/singlecupofcoffee to view some of her work.
Well, being a supposed writer, I really ought to branch out and work on more than one project at a time. Currently, as you may know, I'm working on a second manuscript which let's be honest, I'm very much procrastinating on. I should be way farther ahead than I am now, since I do have some readers who are demanding another piece of work immediately. Which is incredibly nice and humbling, but also a bit stressful.
I'm thinking if I challenge myself to one post a day for a month, not only will be give me something new to do, but it might also give me some fresh ideas, either for a new project, or to integrate into the one I'm currently working on.
So, here's me announcing that my one month blog challenge will take place during the month of March. A post a day for 31 days.
Did you ever consider taking part in a personal challenge?
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
On Milestones
My best friend is turning 30 on Saturday. 30! This seems somewhat unbelievable to me since I've known him since I was 11. The worst part of him turning 30 is... I'm not far behind. Granted, I'll be turning 29 this summer, and not 3-0, but when I take a step back and look at the bigger picture, it's the last year of my twenties (gasp.)
Age is just a number right? Well, certain numbers can certainly make you feel shitty right? While I've got some accomplishments under my belt for a person of my age, ie: I work in an office, I own my own home, I bought my first ever brand new car a few months ago, I'm married, I've got three pets, oh, and I published a book. Not too shabby for a 28 year old. (I apologize for the horn tooting.) These accomplishments are wonderful, but I still feel as though I'm lacking somewhere. I can't help but fixate on my flaws and I think a 28 year old shouldn't be like this.
I've only got a few passions in my life, which may never take me anywhere. Books, writing, and photography. Now, I suppose I could take off with writing or taking pictures, but I'm not entirely sure I've got the wherewithal the actually push myself. I mean, I love these things, shouldn't I find a way to live off of them? Or maybe I'm not pushing myself too hard because deep down I feel like if I get paid to do something I love, it might take the love out of the activity. Anyone else ever feel this way?
But let me get back to my pal. He's had a shitty go of things within the last three years. There have been plenty of good times sprinkled in, but I think right now, the bad is overpowering the good. The rest of my friends and I have been plotting and planning for months what to do for this guy's big birthday. We thought, oh we'll throw a surprise birthday party. Well, he's had like four surprise parties in a row, I think we've played that out. So, I just talked to him about it, I said: "What do you want to do for your birthday?" He just wanted a simple bash at his place. Sounds simple enough... done.
It's been hard lately for me to be excited about anything at all, but I find myself increasingly excited about this guy's birthday party. It will be a celebration with all out friends, and hopefully some laughs and memorable times. Wahoo.
On a completely separate note, I hate it when people stop at my cube to "chat." Jeez, I've got my back turned to the hallway for a reason people.
Age is just a number right? Well, certain numbers can certainly make you feel shitty right? While I've got some accomplishments under my belt for a person of my age, ie: I work in an office, I own my own home, I bought my first ever brand new car a few months ago, I'm married, I've got three pets, oh, and I published a book. Not too shabby for a 28 year old. (I apologize for the horn tooting.) These accomplishments are wonderful, but I still feel as though I'm lacking somewhere. I can't help but fixate on my flaws and I think a 28 year old shouldn't be like this.
I've only got a few passions in my life, which may never take me anywhere. Books, writing, and photography. Now, I suppose I could take off with writing or taking pictures, but I'm not entirely sure I've got the wherewithal the actually push myself. I mean, I love these things, shouldn't I find a way to live off of them? Or maybe I'm not pushing myself too hard because deep down I feel like if I get paid to do something I love, it might take the love out of the activity. Anyone else ever feel this way?
But let me get back to my pal. He's had a shitty go of things within the last three years. There have been plenty of good times sprinkled in, but I think right now, the bad is overpowering the good. The rest of my friends and I have been plotting and planning for months what to do for this guy's big birthday. We thought, oh we'll throw a surprise birthday party. Well, he's had like four surprise parties in a row, I think we've played that out. So, I just talked to him about it, I said: "What do you want to do for your birthday?" He just wanted a simple bash at his place. Sounds simple enough... done.
It's been hard lately for me to be excited about anything at all, but I find myself increasingly excited about this guy's birthday party. It will be a celebration with all out friends, and hopefully some laughs and memorable times. Wahoo.
On a completely separate note, I hate it when people stop at my cube to "chat." Jeez, I've got my back turned to the hallway for a reason people.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
On Comparisons
I've been writing for as long as I can remember. I wrote my first short story when I was six years old, with my Crayolas. There were also some stunning illustrations... for a six year old (sarcasm.) In any case, I've written a lot of garbage throughout my years. Most of this garbage can be blamed on being a kid, and this garbage, I'm not really counting since I was in fact a child.
Of course, the teenage years came and all I could write about was unrequited love. Typical teenage girl stuff right? Well, this equated to more drivel that horrified me beyond belief. I couldn't imagine anyone ever reading that stuff, especially my intended.
About the time I was getting ready to graduate high school, I thought to myself, gosh, I really want to be writer. I want to write books, share my stories with people, entertain them, make them laugh, make them feel. So, I started writing novellas thinking they'd eventually go somewhere, maybe turn into an actual novel. Of course, being judgemental of my work (as pretty much all writers are) I trashed everything I ever wrote, casting it off as rubbish.
As I entered my early twenties I realized, I really wanted to have an actual book out there, but where was my story? I couldn't keep writing about lost love, there's a certain market for that and I didn't want to be pegged. In my mid-twenties, a story arrived, I wrote it, and published it myself.
It was hard work, but not impossible, and I learned a lot of cool things about publishing. Looking back on the story I wrote however, I realize, it's written from a more immature part of me, I can see it in my writing. It's been praised by everyone that's read it (yes, everyone I know) but also, quite a few strangers, which is especially pleasing. I've achieved my goal, I've entertained people.
Now I'm working on a second novel. I can tell already that this particular book has a more mature sense of voice about it. It's coming from an older version of me. Of course, if a writer's work didn't grow and change with the writer's life, it would become boring and calculated. No one would continue to read a particular writer if they kept writing the same thing over and over again.
I'm looking forward to completing this work as I feel it will be more entertaining than my first book. I imagine it will still be a while yet before I complete this piece because well, I let my life and my laziness get in the way too much.
Of course, the teenage years came and all I could write about was unrequited love. Typical teenage girl stuff right? Well, this equated to more drivel that horrified me beyond belief. I couldn't imagine anyone ever reading that stuff, especially my intended.
About the time I was getting ready to graduate high school, I thought to myself, gosh, I really want to be writer. I want to write books, share my stories with people, entertain them, make them laugh, make them feel. So, I started writing novellas thinking they'd eventually go somewhere, maybe turn into an actual novel. Of course, being judgemental of my work (as pretty much all writers are) I trashed everything I ever wrote, casting it off as rubbish.
As I entered my early twenties I realized, I really wanted to have an actual book out there, but where was my story? I couldn't keep writing about lost love, there's a certain market for that and I didn't want to be pegged. In my mid-twenties, a story arrived, I wrote it, and published it myself.
It was hard work, but not impossible, and I learned a lot of cool things about publishing. Looking back on the story I wrote however, I realize, it's written from a more immature part of me, I can see it in my writing. It's been praised by everyone that's read it (yes, everyone I know) but also, quite a few strangers, which is especially pleasing. I've achieved my goal, I've entertained people.
Now I'm working on a second novel. I can tell already that this particular book has a more mature sense of voice about it. It's coming from an older version of me. Of course, if a writer's work didn't grow and change with the writer's life, it would become boring and calculated. No one would continue to read a particular writer if they kept writing the same thing over and over again.
I'm looking forward to completing this work as I feel it will be more entertaining than my first book. I imagine it will still be a while yet before I complete this piece because well, I let my life and my laziness get in the way too much.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
On Small Annoyances
I get irritated by the smallest things sometimes. I know I really shouldn't. I should just be concerned with myself and my own business. I shouldn't let what other people say/do bother me. (That's a lot of should/shouldn't.)
The freshest thing to bother me. Marriage/babies. If you're with someone for a long time, everyone around you asks... "So when are you getting married?" Then after you're married, they'll ask... "So when are you going to start having babies?" As if things of this nature are anyone's business. It's like asking someone, "So, did you take a shit yet today?" None of your business! The dynamics of a person's relationship with someone else should only be discussed amongst those two people. Unless of course the couple in question doesn't mind their personal space being invaded by nosey Nellies, then whatever. Or if the couple in question is open about discussing the status of their relationship with EVERYONE in the entire world. I'm not saying "couples" should keep nill about their relationship, or feelings toward their S/O, if they want to discuss things with say... close friends, hey, go for it, to each his own. I just get irritated when people think it's amusing to ask someone about when they're getting hitched or popping out a shit machine of their own.
Some people are content with just being with someone, things are working well as they are, so why change them? Some people want to get institutional and get hitched for various reasons, or just stay single, yet together for various reasons. Some people can't wait to have kids, some people are more apprehensive about it. These are all personal decisions. PERSONAL decisions that I don't think everyone and their brother should be harassing other people about.
Or maybe I'm just too conventional.
Friday, January 6, 2012
On the New Year
Six days deep in to the New Year, and so far, nothing catastrophic has happened. As J has said, it seems like every year keeps getting shittier and shittier, but he always has high hopes for a new year, I think I might have to agree with that statement.
I even got back to work on the novel, of course it wasn't much, but it was a decent session, nearly a week ago now, but considering I hadn't worked on it in over a month, that's saying a lot. I know I'm taking a completely lax attitude toward this novel, much like I did with the last one, because I'm on no sort of deadline, there is no one to push me to make sure I work on it in a timely manner. There is only me to push myself, and anyone who knows me, knows I won't do that. In this new year, I thought it might be prudent to actually set deadlines for myself, to make a more strict schedule in regards to my writing, to actually keep a writing calendar. I set a flimsy deadline for myself to have this thing finished by June of this year, that is, the writing part. That doesn't include the editing, re-writes, formatting, etc. Of course, this goal might be attainable if I work at least 5-6 days a week, putting down at least 1,000 words. I've got roughly 25,000, and I'm still in the beginning of the story, there's a long road ahead. New Year, new goals!
The other day, I sort of came to the conclusion that I'll probably never amount to any sort of writer. I never really pushed very hard when the first book came out, I didn't throw myself out there to the wolves. I didn't advertise much (mainly because I'm poor), I didn't let people know that it was out there. I suppose I can blame that on my introverted personality though. Then again, I really shouldn't make excuses right? It's all a slippery slope, but what it comes down to is, I'm the only one who can make a change for myself.
Here's to hoping that 2012 will be better and brighter than 2011.
I even got back to work on the novel, of course it wasn't much, but it was a decent session, nearly a week ago now, but considering I hadn't worked on it in over a month, that's saying a lot. I know I'm taking a completely lax attitude toward this novel, much like I did with the last one, because I'm on no sort of deadline, there is no one to push me to make sure I work on it in a timely manner. There is only me to push myself, and anyone who knows me, knows I won't do that. In this new year, I thought it might be prudent to actually set deadlines for myself, to make a more strict schedule in regards to my writing, to actually keep a writing calendar. I set a flimsy deadline for myself to have this thing finished by June of this year, that is, the writing part. That doesn't include the editing, re-writes, formatting, etc. Of course, this goal might be attainable if I work at least 5-6 days a week, putting down at least 1,000 words. I've got roughly 25,000, and I'm still in the beginning of the story, there's a long road ahead. New Year, new goals!
The other day, I sort of came to the conclusion that I'll probably never amount to any sort of writer. I never really pushed very hard when the first book came out, I didn't throw myself out there to the wolves. I didn't advertise much (mainly because I'm poor), I didn't let people know that it was out there. I suppose I can blame that on my introverted personality though. Then again, I really shouldn't make excuses right? It's all a slippery slope, but what it comes down to is, I'm the only one who can make a change for myself.
Here's to hoping that 2012 will be better and brighter than 2011.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
On the Grind
Christmas has passed. The last week of the year is usually pretty lax. The boss is out of town all week, looking forward to another long weekend this week. After New Year's there's really nothing left to look forward to in the way of time off until May, for Memorial Day.
Christmas in and of itself was okay this year, despite it not feeling like Christmas at all since it was relatively mild and brown and dreary. Spent time with my family which I'm always grateful for. Nothing was wrong at the home front which is always a plus. I received a huge stack of books which will keep me reading for at least a few months before I have to replenish my quene. I'm glad it's over though, because now I can start eating like a normal human being again.
I haven't worked on the book at all for a month (huge slacker) for various reasons. I feel like I really ought to get back to work on it this week. I'm much further behind on it then I'd like to be, especially if I'm hoping to release it this summer. Perhaps if I give myself a deadline for where I'd like to be in the book at what date, that might help. Plus the hoopla of the holidays being might help me refocus on my work.
Christmas in and of itself was okay this year, despite it not feeling like Christmas at all since it was relatively mild and brown and dreary. Spent time with my family which I'm always grateful for. Nothing was wrong at the home front which is always a plus. I received a huge stack of books which will keep me reading for at least a few months before I have to replenish my quene. I'm glad it's over though, because now I can start eating like a normal human being again.
I haven't worked on the book at all for a month (huge slacker) for various reasons. I feel like I really ought to get back to work on it this week. I'm much further behind on it then I'd like to be, especially if I'm hoping to release it this summer. Perhaps if I give myself a deadline for where I'd like to be in the book at what date, that might help. Plus the hoopla of the holidays being might help me refocus on my work.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
On Realization
Christmas is only days away. I finished the shopping this past Sunday (mostly.) Wrapping must commence, baking, packaging, etc. It still doesn't feel like Christmas. I keep trying to get in the mood by listening to Christmas songs at my desk, it's not helping. Add in the fact that the weather is a little warmer than normal and there's no snow on the ground and the obvious event that still seems surreal. Today is his birthday, he'd be 29. Dinner plans for the evening to wrap my best friend in love.
Work has been frustrating, I'm letting it stress me out more than I should. It really shouldn't bother me as much as I let it. Although, my boss surprised me with a Christmas something, completely unexpected, but makes me feel appreciated and valued.
I took a leap and sold my Jeep last night, made some cash off it, went and bought a brand new car, 2012 Dodge Caliber. I've never had a brand new car before, they've always been used. As J says, get whatever you want before you turn 30. I've already done so. I purchased my first dslr camera last month and I've fallen in love and now there's a new auto in my life.
There's talks of traveling to New Orleans in February in a group. I'm on the fence about going, for various reasons, but it's somewhere I've always wanted to go. I can't help but think of the photography and the possible material I could garner for my writing. I guess I ought to stop being so wishy washy.
Work has been frustrating, I'm letting it stress me out more than I should. It really shouldn't bother me as much as I let it. Although, my boss surprised me with a Christmas something, completely unexpected, but makes me feel appreciated and valued.
I took a leap and sold my Jeep last night, made some cash off it, went and bought a brand new car, 2012 Dodge Caliber. I've never had a brand new car before, they've always been used. As J says, get whatever you want before you turn 30. I've already done so. I purchased my first dslr camera last month and I've fallen in love and now there's a new auto in my life.
There's talks of traveling to New Orleans in February in a group. I'm on the fence about going, for various reasons, but it's somewhere I've always wanted to go. I can't help but think of the photography and the possible material I could garner for my writing. I guess I ought to stop being so wishy washy.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
On Loss
I was oh so looking forward to Thanksgiving weekend. Spending time with my family and friends, attending my ten year high school reunion, relaxing, celebrating J's birthday, not working for four days. All of that came crashing down on Thanksgiving night.
Dinner was amazing. His family and mine gathered around the traditional huge table and feasted on everything we usually do every year. There was laughter, it wasn't as somber as it was last year, it was a flat out great day. Later in the evening, I received a call from my best friend, hysterically telling me that his boyfriend passed away. The scene was one of the most unnerving possible. Shock and anger overtook me, followed by immense grief and sadness. The weekend was a sleep deprived blur, and so was the majority of last week. This unfortunate event put everything in perspective however. It's quite jilting to see someone the same age as you laying in a box. There's confusion and sadness lingering, and concern for my friend who seems to have the worst luck for someone who is such an amazing person.
On one side of the spectrum, I'm feeling very disconnected like I'm a spectator watching everything, the days seem to be passing entirely too quickly. It doesn't feel like Christmas, the cheer is gone this year. On the other end of the spectrum, I find myself trying to make an active point of being engaged because it's abundantly clear that every day matters. The little things that bother me shouldn't matter, and right now they almost don't. This experience has changed me already, I've noticed that I'm a little warmer, and I'd like to stay that way. I always try to keep people at a distance, I don't want anyone to know the true me, well, I guess this is the time to let the walls fall down.
I'll miss the time we spent, and how happy you made him. You were a light in all of our lives and you'll never be forgotten. You're always in our hearts and minds, and we know you'll be with us all the days of our lives.
Dinner was amazing. His family and mine gathered around the traditional huge table and feasted on everything we usually do every year. There was laughter, it wasn't as somber as it was last year, it was a flat out great day. Later in the evening, I received a call from my best friend, hysterically telling me that his boyfriend passed away. The scene was one of the most unnerving possible. Shock and anger overtook me, followed by immense grief and sadness. The weekend was a sleep deprived blur, and so was the majority of last week. This unfortunate event put everything in perspective however. It's quite jilting to see someone the same age as you laying in a box. There's confusion and sadness lingering, and concern for my friend who seems to have the worst luck for someone who is such an amazing person.
On one side of the spectrum, I'm feeling very disconnected like I'm a spectator watching everything, the days seem to be passing entirely too quickly. It doesn't feel like Christmas, the cheer is gone this year. On the other end of the spectrum, I find myself trying to make an active point of being engaged because it's abundantly clear that every day matters. The little things that bother me shouldn't matter, and right now they almost don't. This experience has changed me already, I've noticed that I'm a little warmer, and I'd like to stay that way. I always try to keep people at a distance, I don't want anyone to know the true me, well, I guess this is the time to let the walls fall down.
I'll miss the time we spent, and how happy you made him. You were a light in all of our lives and you'll never be forgotten. You're always in our hearts and minds, and we know you'll be with us all the days of our lives.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
On Realizing Loss
Yes, I think I've finally come to grips with it. The past is, well, in the past. My clique of old school friends has dwindled, everyone has grown up and moved on with their own lives. The only two that remain are my good friend MB and myself. There was another MB in our group, but he has split off, living a whole other world, an hour or so away, and kudos to him. The others, the others are relatively near, and the three of them, they still remain close knit, they see each other regularly, they choose to exclude MB and myself. Despite various efforts to reconnect and bring the circle back together, the three have remained on their own, without any true interest to intermingle.
I suppose this is the way of life, growing up. Things change, people change, situations change. In my naive teenage mind, a decade ago, I had hopes that things wouldn't really change this much, that this situation wouldn't have happened. But in the back of my mind, in that grown up, recessed, dark corner of my mind, I sort of knew, things were going to change drastically.
And now with a ten year high school reunion coming up in a few weeks, I find myself sitting on the fence as to whether or not I want to attend. I find that only MB and I are the only ones considering it. It appears that the majority of the people going are the douche bags we never spoke to while we were in school. So why would we want to pay to spend an evening with these people now? Maybe said douche bags are no longer douchey, or maybe they are douchier than ever. I suppose there's only one way to find out.
I suppose this is the way of life, growing up. Things change, people change, situations change. In my naive teenage mind, a decade ago, I had hopes that things wouldn't really change this much, that this situation wouldn't have happened. But in the back of my mind, in that grown up, recessed, dark corner of my mind, I sort of knew, things were going to change drastically.
And now with a ten year high school reunion coming up in a few weeks, I find myself sitting on the fence as to whether or not I want to attend. I find that only MB and I are the only ones considering it. It appears that the majority of the people going are the douche bags we never spoke to while we were in school. So why would we want to pay to spend an evening with these people now? Maybe said douche bags are no longer douchey, or maybe they are douchier than ever. I suppose there's only one way to find out.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
On NaNoWriMo
It's here again. Last year was my first year participating, and I actually won. "A" for effort right? Of course, there are no prizes or anything, just the satisfaction of writing a whole freakin' novel in a month. Of course, I scoured over it and made changes, did a massive overhaul, did a lot of editing and turned it into my first novel, Stress Test. I'm planning on participating again this year, though I have no illusions about winning. I feel like I'll make a good go of it though, I'll make some massive progress, and at least I'll be able to say that.
Besides, November here in the Mitten is generally a good month for writing. The weather is crappy, it's dark most of the day and it's something to do to keep from being overly depressed. You can't be depressed if your mind of working on something creative right?
Though, on the other hand, I've got the guilt that I'm not spending enough time with my family. That family being, J, and the fur/feather babies. So mostly I think, oh, there will be another day/time to write, I'm going to hang out with J before he goes to work. Or, the dog needs someone to play with him, because the cat is just sitting on the back of the couch like a bump on a log. Other times I think... just give me an hour to write something down, and then I can feel a little accomplishment.
Besides, November here in the Mitten is generally a good month for writing. The weather is crappy, it's dark most of the day and it's something to do to keep from being overly depressed. You can't be depressed if your mind of working on something creative right?
Though, on the other hand, I've got the guilt that I'm not spending enough time with my family. That family being, J, and the fur/feather babies. So mostly I think, oh, there will be another day/time to write, I'm going to hang out with J before he goes to work. Or, the dog needs someone to play with him, because the cat is just sitting on the back of the couch like a bump on a log. Other times I think... just give me an hour to write something down, and then I can feel a little accomplishment.
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