Tag: life

About Writing

New Decade

Autumn

Since it’s a new decade, I have been thinking a lot about what I want out of the next ten years. The themes that kept me occupied during the 2010’s are (hopefully) over and done with, and at this point I feel established enough as a wife and mother that I don’t need to wonder what the heck I’m doing anymore.

I definitely want to write more fiction. I would very much enjoy publishing a new book every year, as well as writing more novelettes — heaven knows it would enable me to get more of my creative ideas out there, instead of having them perpetually on the back burner while I focus on bigger projects. Bonus: I’m more comfortable publishing novelettes as I write them, as the shorter length makes them more manageable and less prone to “I changed my mind.”

I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and I feel that this is the decade to really put myself out there. I’m not going to expect instant results, but hopefully by the time 2030 rolls around, I’ll have an established audience for my stories.

I’m going to make the most I can out of the 2020’s.

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About Me

The Accolade

Autumn

Accolade_by_Edmund_Blair_Leighton

Wikipedia Link

I first saw this picture during one of my babysitting jobs as a young teenager. I don’t remember much, but the dad had been one of those geeky sorts who liked computers, Lord of the Rings, and Star Wars, so a large copy of this painting was hanging in the front room that was intended for guests (not children).

After putting the kids in bed, I tiptoed downstairs to study it. I loved the solemnity of the scene, the folds of shimmering fabric of the woman’s dress, and the way her long hair caught the light. It was beautiful.

As I grew, I learned to hide a number of things while out in public. No one knew that I liked The Chronicles of Narnia, Neopets, or The Legend of Zelda. I wasn’t outgoing enough to obtain any sort of popularity with the normal kids, but the stereotypical geeks saw me as too “flighty” to have anything to do with me. As an outcast, I did everything I could to blend in and be invisible, because, as I so painfully learned, people are capable of enormous cruelty towards each other.

The image of the woman and the knight was permanently in my head. I wanted to grow my hair out, but was too scared. I bought shirts with flouncy sleeves whenever I could, but always defaulted to t-shirts when it came to school or work. The idea of being Obviously Different on a daily basis was terrifying.

Until skinny jeans and messy buns came along.

I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

It was too far away from what had literally taken my breath away several years before.

I KNEW what I thought was beautiful, and fashion was moving in the exact opposite direction. I balked at the idea of following along just to be invisible.

This happened during a major transitional period in my life, so while I was busy dropping out of college and eloping with my soulmate, I embraced being Different. I quit wearing jeans and t-shirts altogether, and that opened the floodgates for everything that was me.

Video games, fantasy novels, horror movies, sewing, pink, glitter, etc. All of it. I became myself, inside and out, no matter where I was. I quit hiding.

Sometimes it’s still awkward. I’m still introverted, after all, and people can’t help but notice me out in public. Not only do I wear unique clothing, I have a growing number of children running around me as well. I often don’t know what to say in reply to the comments I get — especially the compliments. One thing is certain though: my family and I are memorable.

And I still aspire to be that serene woman draped in shimmering fabric with cascading locks.

About Me

The Doldrums

Autumn

Every single year, January finds me feeling sluggish and unmotivated. I prefer to hibernate on cloudy days, and avoid having anywhere to go or much to do. I don’t mind — its nice having a break from the usual activities that keep me occupied throughout the rest of the year.

But it also means that I’m not in the mood for blogging.

Cuz meh.

I’ll be in my sewing room, learning how to make smocked bishops.

About Writing

Inspiration and Blocks

Autumn

The other night I had a dream that can be best summarized as a thoroughly awesome expansion of my Dragon King writing prompt story. The dream had a rich fairy tale atmosphere, and plenty of back story to really get the imagination going. As soon as I was up, I pulled out my binder with the intention of writing a prologue to lock in the idea — and yes, I was going to share it too.

The best I could manage was a rough outline.

Le sigh.

At the very least, the idea is solidly recorded, and eventually one day I will transform it into a proper story. But for now, I have nothing sharable. In all likelihood, it will be about five or so more months before I return to posting any short stories or novelettes. It’s honestly a bit disheartening to feel like that part of my brain is shut off for the moment.

I’m thankful that the first draft of my novel is finished, and I’m editing/rewriting rather than trying to come up with sentences from scratch. On the bright side, I won’t have any new ideas distracting me from finishing it. Just fatigue, lol.

So far I’m on track for finishing by the end of this month, but I’ve also caught a bad case of the gremlins, so fingers crossed and knock on wood. Maybe I should buy a second flash drive to save more back up copies . . . just in case.

About Me

Birthday

Autumn

I’ll be turning 32 at some point during this month.

I grew up with the whole, “Hide your real age and try to look younger,” shtick, but I’m really enjoying the whole process of growing older and more mature. It wasn’t until my 30th birthday, for example, that I decided I didn’t care what sort of hairstyles everyone else said would look good with my face type, and that I would do what *I* thought was pretty instead. Personally, I like the way I look much better now than I did ten years ago.

I enjoy being a weird homemade bohemian goth with a gazillion kids WAY more than I ever liked wearing t-shirts and jeans, and working a full time job.

Other benefits of being in my 30s include finally working up the courage to self-publish my fiction, without taking it as a criticism when I didn’t instantly turn into an overnight success story. I’m rather glad I don’t have that burden right now.

I think it will be an absolute blast when I hit middle age and start speaking my mind without worrying about what everyone will think of me. Hopefully for everyone else, leggings will have fallen out of fashion by then.

Truthfully, sometimes I fantasize about being more publicly visible and influencing people away from that particular trend. Because seriously, it’s a pretty stupid when women dictate to me that leggings are more “comfortable” when I’m wearing culottes. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that attributes like “breathable”, “nonrestrictive”, and “flattering” didn’t count as comfortable. My bad.

Besides, I’m nearly 32 and I have a gazillion kids. I have no interest in trying to flaunt every detail of my body like I’m 22. I’d like to age with dignity and keep my cellulite to myself.

Lol, tangent.

Anyway, I remember being that t-shirts and jeans person, lying on the floor of my studio apartment, staring at the ceiling and wishing more than anything that I could quit my job and be a full-time author. I wanted it so badly it hurt, but every inquiry I made to publishers went nowhere and I was too terrified of failure to strike out on my own.

I wonder why, when I had all the time and energy I could possibly need, my approach to the world was so limited and fearful.

Oh, my darling young self, you have no idea what could have happened if you had been courageous enough to create your own path.

Live ‘n learn. I was the best I knew how to be, and that was enough to lead me here. After all, 32 is hardly decrepit.

When I think about the future, I see myself overflowing with creativity and surrounded by a gazillion loved ones. I look forward to my birthdays, and marking another year of growing and maturing with the people who matter the most.

About Writing

Back to writing

Autumn

Now that the holidays are (mostly) over, my delusion is that I’ll be able to jump back into writing and finally finish that novel I’ve been working on for the past 18 months. If I religiously devote just an hour a day, I should have the rewrite done by the end of January.

You know, provided that the sky doesn’t randomly open up and start raining killer sharks or anything like that. Life knows how to be a bitch, so I’m always reticent to make any sort of announcements about the future, only to follow up with a “Lol, jk.” I guess this reflects how many killer sharks I’ve dealt with over the last umpteen years.

But anyway, tentatively speaking, I should start “promoting” in February, and let slip what all my vague references were about all along. That way, this novel can be over with and out of my hair so I can have my new baby in peace.

And start my next novel during all those hours I’ll be off my feet with a newborn. What can I say? My mind is always brimming with stories to tell, and sleep deprivation is a fantastic channel for inspiration, lol.

About Me

Journal

Autumn

Christmas is looming ever closer. We’ve started the official countdown.

Finally feeling ‘second trimester-y’, which means less gagging and more energy. And baby wiggles.

Wanted to make coffee this morning, but discovered that we forgot to clean out the french press from . . . forever ago. Yuck. Chai tea instead.

Spent the entire weekend making gingerbread houses with my husband and kids. Still haven’t cleaned up the dining table. So. Much. Candy. We had tons of fun.

Christmas sewing. The pants I made for my son are absolutely perfect and very dapper. I’m not sure why I decided to do puff sleeves on the girls’ dresses when I have such a tight deadline, because going sleeveless would have been considerably faster. Maybe because puff sleeves are just too adorable. With any luck, I’ll get them finished in time.

Child #2 came down with a fever. I’m expecting everyone (myself included) to get sick before the end of this week. Might throw a wrench in the works. Curse you, cold and flu season!

At the very least, the next eight days will be interesting.

About Me

Christmas Shopping

Autumn

It’s my tradition to take the kids out for some one-on-one Christmas shopping. It’s a rare occasion when I get to focus on just one child at a time, so the trips are quite special to me.

Naturally I can’t stand the crowds or the traffic that come with the Christmas season, so I always aim to get it done in early December, during the week and before noon. You know, when the people who have jobs are working, those who don’t haven’t gotten out of the house yet, so my main companions are sweet old ladies looking for presents for their grandbabies. Yep, those are my people.

As a side note, in elementary school I used to spend summer vacation practicing embroidery while watching Matlock, so my husband likes to tease that I’ve always been a little old lady at heart. I also climbed plenty of trees and played with plenty of dolls, but that retiring aspect has always been a part of me.

Anyway, it doesn’t really matter how many times you explain to a three-year-old that we’re shopping for others and not ourselves, they will inevitably shout something like, “Mom you’re stupid!” when you leave without purchasing at least one of those super mega awesome toys that they wanted for themselves. It always makes me laugh when they do. Those moments of disappointment can be so big and overwhelming when you’re still so little, and childhood is precious. I don’t take it personally — I try to help them constructively phrase their emotions instead. No biggie if it fails, because sometimes you just gotta be upset for awhile, and that’s okay too.

Hopefully, my children are learning that giving to those you love is just as important as receiving, and to do their best to get something that the other person would actually enjoy instead of being lazy about it. Maybe 60 years from now, they’ll be the sort to go out on a Tuesday morning to buy toys for their grandbabies.

But don’t go thinking that I’m some sort of sainted angel. I also make sure that my husband takes the kids out Christmas shopping for me too, because motherhood shouldn’t be all self-sacrifice and nothing else. With how much I bust my butt to make Christmas special, I earn those earrings and scented candles.

About Writing

Female Characters

Autumn

Female characters tend to kill novels for me.

I think there was a convention some years ago, during which it was decided that there was only one acceptable personality type for all women forever, and it was to be: “independent and feisty.”

So it doesn’t really matter what genre you pick up, the main female character will inevitably be “independent and feisty.” And just like all the others, she’ll insist that she isn’t anything like all of the others. Dunning-Kruger.

And in a giant sea of endless independence and feisty-ness, the attributes lose all meaning and deteriorate down to a simple, “Wow, she’s a bitch.”

There wouldn’t be anything wrong with “feisty” if one also regularly came across female protagonists that were shy, compassionate, bitter, fanciful, neurotic, etc. Maybe I’m just too avant garde or something, but I really don’t think that women should all be pigeon-holed into one or two word descriptions. Female characters are capable of being more than the “independent and feisty” stereotype. Aren’t we supposed to be breaking out of stereotypes? So why is this one so deeply entrenched in fiction? Where’s the individuality in writing the same characters that everyone else is writing?

But every time I skim through a new book with the thought, “Maybe I’ll enjoy reading this one,” the monotony of endless repetition in female personalities inevitably makes me pass. I want to read about characters who are different; I can go out into the real world if I want conformity and sameness.

About Me

December

Autumn

It’s December.

I love Christmas. I love having the kids make ornaments to add to our mishmash of a tree; decorating gingerbread houses with royal icing and a huge assortment of candies; and, of course, the traditional cookies for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

It’s also my tradition to sew matching clothes for all of the kids, so December is a very active month for me.

My morning sickness is lingering longer than I had anticipated, which has put me behind schedule with my sewing. I know, Pinterest is chock full of “Easy One-hour” patterns, so for the uninitiated it probably looks like sewing is No Big Deal and that I should have plenty of time. And yeah, sure, I could cut some rectangles, tie some ribbon, and have a three blocky dresses made lickety-split. However, I am not an “Easy One-hour” sort of person. Skirts should be twirly, and a few rhinestones to accent hand-embroidery never hurt anything. By the time I finish doing all of those little touches, 10 hours for one dress is pretty good time.

And I still haven’t quite made up my mind about what I’m going to make for my son. He likes dinosaurs, robots, and randomly punching things, so he’s going to want something completely different from his sisters.

Anyway, I’m not trying to stress out here or anything. All told, I really love the mad rush of projects that come with preparing for Christmas, and find it more exhilarating than anything else. I’m more worried that I won’t be able to indulge to my heart’s content, being pregnant and whatnot.

Oh well. It will all work out in the end. Always does.