Roots

The stone bench beneath me
Is cool to the touch
The warmth leeches out of my body
As I gaze through sliding glass doors
I close my eyes
And feel a breeze on my face
The smell of wet dirt welcomes my nose
And the wind chimes play their mournful tune
The last rays of dusk leave the sky
And night truly falls at last
Taking a deep breath
I feel weightless
And the strain of moving tables
Raking stone
Hanging lights
Is lifted from my body
There is only me
And the stone bench that holds my weight
Looking back inside, through the doors
I see a different space
I do not recognize its fresh paint
Reupholstered chairs
New mosaic lights
I realize the feeling of domestic happiness
As it settles over me
From the day's work
And I can't believe that unexpectedly
This place feels like home
After two and a half years
Plus two and a half more
I think this place which I so scorned
Will hold me here for good
I no longer want to leave
I wish to stay grounded

Price Tag Happiness

Get her what she really wants this Christmas:

Perfume, a new car, jewelry

Rubies sapphires diamonds!

A massage, a night out, a luxury cruise

50% off, what a steal

Get him what he really wishes for:

A truck, tools, outdoor gear

Tickets to the football season

A 72 inch TV

(That’ll keep him busy)

Save buckets of money for the really important things

Get them everything on their lists:

Dolls, cars, legos galore

Video games, electronics, phones, and more

Everything they never dreamed

Until seeing it in the shop windows

‘Tis the season of giving

The only important thing to remember

Is that no one is ever happy

Nobody will be satisfied with what they have

Because there’s always more

So, make sure to prepare for everything

Go overboard and cover it all

Join the throngs of 12/26 crowds

Rushing to return the happiness they borrowed

The joy they could only rent

It doesn’t matter anyway,

Because everyone’s happy

But no one’s ever happy

There’s always something else

Another distraction to replace

Real happiness

Make sure you have everything you need

Leave nothing out

Be prepared for the slightest altercation

Put on a brave face

Smile

Let no one see your fears

It’s almost upon us

The beast has arrived

Time to be happy in a world

That values nothing

Except dirt

NaNoWriMo is Here!

In just one short day (insert Wicked song here) Halloween will have breezed by and November will be here like a flash.  And of course, with November comes National Novel Writing Month!

In July I gave a description of NaNoWriMo and all that it entails.  That still holds true, but now it just seems more daunting.  The prospect of writing 50k words in 30 days is a huge undertaking, and I think I must be a a little crazy for doing it.  Regardless, this year I'm jumping in to the wonderful world of writing without looking back or thinking twice.  Who says you need to start with training wheels?

Actually, to continue the bike metaphor, I would say that Camp Nano was my practice, and now it's time to do the real thing.  Of course, I'm going at basically the same approach I did last time: have an idea and the main characters an completely wing it with events.  This is not generally what I wish would happen, but for some reason things creep up on me before I have time to face them.  That being said, with one day to go, I have exactly three and a half characters planned, a rough outline of a backstory, and a handful of events that will probably run out within a week.  Yep.  So much for being on top of things this time, I guess.

Regardless of that, I'm still looking forward to writing this novel this month.  I have a tendency to dabble in all sorts of fiction, but I've never tried anything sci-fi before, so this book should be a challenge and a roller coaster.  I think that perhaps my recent leaning towards sci-fi can be explained by my excessive Doctor Who watching over the summer and by my interest in The Twilight Zone as of late.  Hmm...

Also, here is the latest from Inksanity.  While everyone else has been working up a storm with planning and plotting and conspiring, I have been creating my Halloween costume.  Who knows?  Maybe I was subconsciously planning the setting for my novel.

Hello, Fall!

Hello again, dear readers!

It's that time of the year again where fall is upon us (although from my vantage point in Tucson it doesn't really feel like fall yet) and the holiday season is looming ever closer.  Autumn is my favorite time of the year for a number of reasons:

1. Pumpkin spice everything is the best
2. Halloween
3. In other universes there are leaves changing color and looking gorgeous
4. Fall break
5. Although this will be my first year participating, NaNoWriMo!

I am SUPER excited for November to come because I'm looking forward to the challenge of 50k words in 30 days!  I should probably come up with a plot before then...

I'm going to try and share a little bit of everything from my list, so to kick off fall, here is my latest Inksanity vlog about what I did over fall break.

Tribute to September

A quick follow-up to the last vlog, I was assigned the very first week after the original.  I was a little bit intimidated because I had no idea what to do or talk about, so I decided to tell people a little about myself.  It's not very interesting, but it is enough that I can avoid punishment from the rest of Inksanity.  That is, unless I don't meet the goal I set for myself.  (What was I thinking?  October 1st seemed a lot more attainable when it was a month away...)

Needless to say, if you are reading this, you know that I either have a few hours to complete my goal or you are waiting to find out if I actually did.  Because all of the other things I could be accomplishing right now are not so inviting, I will go into more detail about my goal.

In the vlog, I said I would have a beta reader-ready copy of Finding Beauty ready by October 1st.  My first draft was only 54 pages long, so my initial thoughts were, "Sure, why not?  All I need to do is revise about 10 pages a week.  That's nothing!"  Of course, nothing ever goes as planned, so here I am, with less than 4 hours to go and still a little under 10 pages to read.  Ugh.  Why am I so optimistic?

Fortunately, the ending is a little more developed than the beginning was, so maybe I can manage to finish this on time.  Of course, it's not like it's the end of the world, but really I would prefer not to face whatever gruesome punishment my friends have in store for me (I heard it involves elevators, which are recurring nightmares of mine).

IF all goes as planned, all of my lovely beta readers can expect to receive a draft of my novel by Sunday, October 6th.  (You know who you are.)

If all does NOT go as planned, then my readers and viewers can expect a follow-up to this post, containing all the details and footage of my punishment.  For my own sake, I hope this waits for a later time.

The race is on.  In exactly 3 hours and 52 minutes, I will bid farewell to September.  For better or for worse, October is coming.  Tick tock!

The Typewriter Effect Project Pilot

Hello, my dear readers!  This post kicks off a vlog project that a few fellow writers and I have been developing for a while now.  Inspired by an offhand conversation and by other YouTube vloggers, we decided that to have a series of videos about writing would be a good way to hold each other accountable for the goals we each have.  Not only this, but it's a fun experiment in technology that adds a new medium to our writing.  We are aware that there are glitches and a few bugs to work out, but we are hoping that we will be able to get these fixed in time.  Please bear with us as we are new to this process and are in it for the adventure.  After all, we don't hope to be famous, just to be ourselves.

I present The Typewriter Effect.  None of us knows what the project will entail, only that it will have a variety of eccentricities to entertain our viewers.  There could be anything from a weekly update on our latest novel project to a duel-or-die character battle.  (It's frightening, I know.)  And maybe, just maybe, we'll inspire someone to begin something big.  After all, greatness comes in small packages.

Dear Anonymous

I wrote this poem for anyone who is feeling down and needs words of encouragement.  Too many people don’t realize how valued they are.  In a world where greatness is measured by material standards, I want them to know that beauty comes from the inside, not from without.

I just want you to know

That you are beautiful

Don’t ever change because of someone else

You don’t need to impress others

You are you, and that is enough

Nobody is perfect, so why do you have to be?

Mistakes are part of the learning process

People care about you

You have potential for greatness

Boldness is powerful

Quiet is revolutionary

When you’re tired of doing things wrong,

Step back and see what you’ve accomplished for good

You may be surprised by what you find

Your life is not an accident

You are wonderful

Those who say you are nothing

Are absolutely wrong

You are strong

This world knows nothing of greatness

Who you are is not who you see in your reflection

And no matter what anyone says,

You are priceless

Don’t give up

Streetlight

The lights glimmer so bright

With their missing letters

Here and there

The shops all closed,

Except for a few

Who hope to snare another passerby

The streets are dark

And no one is about

Save for a few souls wandering

Hurriedly to nowhere

The streets are empty

But for a few cars

And the streetlights click on

In a flood of orange

Chasing away those shadows

That prowl and skulk shadily

Who hunt like predators, hungry

Those shadows that creep around

In alleys

In shops

In courtyards

In parks

Around corners

At crosswalks

But not where the light pools

In the middle of the street

That circle of safety

From the darkness

From the silence

From the desolation

Here, in the dark

A safe harbor

The Death of the World Part Two

For many heavy days and dark nights the heart must suffer to make sense of the mire encasing it.  For without this toil, there would be no use of the savior who comes to save all hearts from the darkness that clamps its razor teeth into the very crevices of the soul.  The captive spirits struggle to break free from their bondage, but all to no avail.  There is no hope for those valiant warriors who fight so persistently against the darkness.  There is no plot to describe the desperation and hopelessness that grips the only things good on the desecrated planet.  Then, out of the ashes of despair and decay, a hero is born.

Victory Dance and About My Novel

With only a few days before the end of July I (miraculously) finished writing my novel before the deadline.  There were times when I felt like throwing in the towel purely because I couldn't move past my annoying writers block.  I sure am glad I didn't and that I stuck with it.

Many of the people who are in my loop already know what my book is about, but there are others who have been kept in suspense this whole month.  For those who wish to know, I have a synopsis.  It is subject to change since I have yet to write a final draft of the novel, but from what I have now it's pretty consistent.

Jackson has lived alone with his dad ever since his mom walked out on them when he was little. His dad tries hard to be there, but Jackson feels abandoned by both his parents.  He can't find a way to fit in, and he is unable to discover the true feeling of family that he has been searching for his whole life.  Finally, when he joins dance class, this all changes.  

Alexia lives under the shadow of her famous older sister.  She is neglected by her parents because all they can see are her flaws, and they only wish to compare her to her sister.  Her mother is critical and wishes that both of her daughters could be "magazine models."  Her alcoholic father has never been there and doesn't have time to spend on her.  Dancing is the only way for Alexia to escape the abuse and brokenness of her family and be accepted for who she is.

When Jackson meets Alexia through dance class, he expects her to be just like other girls.  What he finds is someone who is very different than everyone else and much more real than anyone he's ever met.  Together, they discover that family comes in many forms and that finding beauty starts on the inside.

The draft is far from being final, and a little ways away from having anyone else read it, but I'm hoping within this year to have a second draft complete so that all of the wonderful people who volunteered to edit can have a go!

Writing Finding Beauty was surprisingly different from how I pictured, but it was worth every second I spent furiously scribbling down words.  Hopefully I have enough motivation to continue editing so I can work towards publication.

Many thanks to all of those who helped me along, especially all of those people who took my family into their homes while we were on vacation.  Without you, I would have been writing in a tent or a shady hotel room!

Ode to Tucson

Dear Tucson,

I’m sorry for all of the abuse you’ve endured

That comes from my mouth

You are under-appreciated

And I don’t often express my gratitude

For your many fine features

I only complain

I love your mountains,

Rocky terrain forming jagged horizons

I love your sunsets,

Your painted colors patterning the brush-stroked sky

I love your wildlife,

Quails, bobcats, javelinas

And the more menacing ones:

Scorpions, rattlesnakes, tarantulas

I love seeing the spear bushes and palm trees

Silhouetted against the setting sun

And the desolate desert landscape

Has its moments of beauty

When the rain comes

I can’t help feeling a sense of joy

That the sun will be obscured

There are times I actually find happiness

While wrapped in you mountainous embrace

Although I miss the things that you can’t offer,

I need to be content with what I’ve got

I don’t know why I never learn

I’ve taken things for granted once before

And I swore I’d never do so again

Now I hope to make amends

You and I can come clean

Start over

Even though I’ll blister in the heat

And curse you once more

At least we’ve come to an understanding

I have to admit I did miss you a little

It’s good to be home

Quotes to Motivate

Since I am feeling unmotivated and stuck in my plot line, here are some quotes I found that are either motivational or wise words to getting things done:

Keep in mind that neither success nor failure is ever final.  Roger Babson

Don't be afraid to take a big step if one is indicated; you can't cross a chasm in two small jumps.  David Lloyd George

All who have accomplished great things have had a great aim, have fixed their gaze on a goal which was high, one which sometimes seemed impossible.  Orison Swett Marden

Every failure, obstacle or hardship is an opportunity in disguise.  Success in many cases is failure turned inside out.  Mary Kay Ash

Shoot for the moon.  Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.  Les Brown

A dream becomes a goal when action is taken towards its achievement.  Bo Bennett

You can't get much done in life if you only work when you feel good.  Jerry West

Fireworks

I have a panoramic view of the fireworks
Lighting up the sky like wayward fireflies
Exploding lights on every side of me
From every corner of this city
Cascading colors, red blue white
Filling each particle of my sight
Shimmering strands of exuberance
A sporadic chaotic wild dance
And the boom of gunshots firing high
Accompanies the celebration in the sky
Sending vibrations echoing
Like a thundercloud that decides to sing
But not even the rain decides to alight
On this wonderful booming celebration night

My 1st Story

NaNoWriMo's 1st story campaign.  Writing matters.

Camp NaNoWriMo July 2013

As you can see from my spiffy new badge, I will be participating in Camp NaNoWriMo this year.  (That's short for National Novel Writing Month.)  Basically the goal of Camp is to write a whole novel in one month.  It sounds intimidating, and believe me, I'm feeling pretty intimidated.  However, because I am a deadline sort of person, I thought this would be fun.  Never mind the fact that I will be on vacation for two weeks out of the month.  I want to challenge myself as a writer and so the saying "you'll never know if you don't try" is hanging over my head like a conscience.  Besides, I keep telling myself, it's summer.  This is the perfect time to try it!  (Just wait until the real thing in November when I have school, ugh!  That will be a challenge.)

I'm counting on the support of friends and family and other people who are just feeling generous to keep me going when I want to quit (and believe me, that will be often).  One of the best ways we can be successful, says the program director, is to make our goals very public.  Well, okay then, check.  Even if no one reads it, at least it's on the internet and people have the ability to know what I'm doing this summer.  My facebook and possibly my blog will be smeared with complaints of writer's block and battle cries of inspiration.  At least everyone will know what that's all about.

The last thing I have to say for no one's benefit but my own is a quote by Denis Waitley: "Goals provide the energy source that powers our lives.  One of the best ways we can get the most from the energy we have is to focus it.  That is what goals can do for us: concentrate our energy."

Glass Castle

Music is my one of my biggest inspirations.  Occasionally I hear a very special song that inspires a scene or idea in my head and I write about it.  Sometimes the idea stands alone, sometimes it fits in with a project I'm already working on.  This particular poem of mine I wrote a few months ago, long before my brother introduced me to the song Castle of Glass by Linkin Park.  However, while I didn't write the poem after being inspired by the song, together they tell a similar story, and it's my hope that my readers will see the vision inspired by both.

Glass Castle

The girl sitting on the wall

With her arms around her legs

What is her story?

What hidden horrors does she escape

By staying after school?

She curls in the corner,

Being unobtrusive

She looks up at passerby

She walks through the halls

Trying her best to disappear

Trying not to catch an eye

No one spares a second thought

For one so evanescent

No one glances back to say hello

Why does she insist on loneliness?

What keeps her in her castle?

Hidden away, unreachable

By the outside world

Secluded from the land out there

Enclosed inside a crystal shell

She floats above the clouds

In her bubble of imagination

Spirited away on winds of thought

Away from this crooked world

Where she doesn’t belong

Reflection on Walt Whitman

Reconciliation by Walt Whitman

Word over all, beautiful as the sky,
Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage must in time be utterly lost,
That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world;
For my enemy is dead, a man divine as myself is dead,
I look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin--I draw near,
Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin.

How powerful is this poem, this simple declaration of human love and forgiveness.  If only all the world could take such a stand and be reconciled with all its wrongs, it would be a better place.  For time can make the tensions fade and have us forget the opposing views.  And in the end, forgiveness is as simple as that.

The Death of the World

That evening, the stars started to turn to dust as the world began to decay.  There was no stopping the cloud that was consuming the planet.  It was a cloud of darkness and despair that had been ever-present since the beginning of time.  Up until that point, they had always found ways to contain it and pretend it didn't exist, little pockets of good and happiness in that desolate world.  However, the time had come when they were no longer able the hold back the darkness.  There came a time when the consuming evil that had always been lurking in the back corners of their minds marched to the forefront of their conscious and broke loose.  Thus began the death of the world.

Bus Stop Zombies

We wait alone

Or in packs

Silent, saying nothing

We stand apart from others

Not acknowledging their existence

Nor they, ours

We sit secluded

Not paying attention to the world around us

Observing from a distance

Others watch us seated there,

Dead to the world

Others talk while life goes on

Yet still we say nothing

The look in our eyes,

Tired from morning

Weary from work and school

Others laugh and make conversation

We don’t make a sound

The doors open to let us out

I walk alone

In solitary existence

Until someone breaks my shell

A lone voice says my name

Pulling me from the land of the dead

And a boy sees me

Says hello

I don’t answer him

I walk on by without a word

Then I stop and wonder

Who am I to pass on  by

A familiar face I know?

How do I keep walking on

When someone made a connection?

It’s too late now to fix the past

What’s over is what’s done

Yet still I wander on

Oblivious to all

Because that is all I’m capable of

I am nothing more than a bus stop zombie

Ordinary Magic

Today is the most wonderful day ever
A woman has baby formula in a plastic bag
Today it is beautiful
A girl wears crystal dangly earrings
The sun is shining
Three little children and their mother sit down
The air is clear
A light blue car the shade of the sky drives in front of us
The sky is bluer than hope
The bus rumbles along the street
The birds are singing
A music store van is right outside the window
Trees sway happily with the thought of coming spring
An orchestra plays in my earphones
The girl I met yesterday with purple hair gets on
The bus driver lowers the lift for a woman with many bags
I hear a sad song
But today is wonderful
Today is a beautiful day
Today is ordinary
Today is plain
But today is today
And suddenly, in the midst of everyday life
I find beauty

A Chat With Silence

I’ve never truly known silence
There’s always something to hear
Always noises, sounds
Echoing inside my head
Songs repeating over and back
Reverberating around
Looping on an endless track

How do you hear silence?
Do you listen very closely?
Strain your ears to hear nothing
Wait for it to come
Bask in the midst of enveloping chaos
And let the hubbub fall away
Then silence stands in front of me

Can you play silence?
Let it roll along
Like a toe-tapping song
Cover the headphones to my ears
And shut out the world around
Listen to the silence
Call it up on the telephone
Talk for a little while
Have a little chat
About life
Listen to Silence’s sad story
How the world is too loud
To pay attention to silence anymore