April 17, 2015

It’s been some time word press. I hate to use you only for when I’m feeling blue or angry but what is a blog/online journal for but for the airing of grievances?

School has been on my mind the most. Yet it’s the last thing I actually do. I have a research paper due in less than a week and I have found no sources not have I done any thorough research. So basically it’s par for the josh course. I have a 4 page essay due on Monday and so many other things to do this weekend. My husbands and my life has been close to hectic. Our schedules are so out of whack. He’s doubled up on classes at University of Phoenix so that he can graduate by the end of July. He wants to get started with the credential program as soon as possible. It’s strange to think he’s graduating. I want to do something nice for him. This is something that doesn’t happen everyday and is a big deal, even though he insists on downplaying it. 

Last year in my student development class, one of the assignments was to make s five year plan. What’s strange is it has somehow become a real life plan. It has been decided between Charlie and I that in four years we are moving to Long Beach. At which time I will continue my education and he will start a teaching job. (and I’ll be planning our family expansion in secret.)  As it stands, the plan is to spend the next few years trying to save up money so that at the end we can buy a house instead of renting. 

I’m starting to wonder if journalism is the best for me. I made that sound more certain than I meant it to be. It was a passing thought the other day that seems to have a faint after taste. 

February 23, 2015

Five Simple Rules

In typical pattern, as winter slowly changes into spring I myself am going through my own transition.  It may be because I have grown-up some, being almost thirty, or I am just longing for a purpose.  Right now, I lack any real directive.  Instead, I waste my time on events and relationships that go absolutely nowhere.  I want to be established.  I want to have a career.  I want a goal!

The other day I had decided to delve further into my novel.  I want it to submerge me.  When I was younger I’d become so engrossed in my own creativity that nothing else mattered.  That is the place I long to return too.  Maybe then it will inspire a goal.

I made the decision to post one of my novels on Watt Pad and see what kind of response it gets.  And because I am a perfectionist I have been going through and revising it to be viewable by another pair of eyes besides my own.  Although, I am questioning whether I want to post my novel there since my niece informed me last night that plagiarism is a huge problem on the website and creates a good amount of drama.  That makes me uneasy, as I am already paranoid about people stealing my work that is not accessible for the whole world to see.  I go so far as to shred any page of my book I print out and no longer need.  Yet even with that fear, I find myself driven to create a “platform.”

“Platform” is the buzzword I keep running across in blogs, articles, or books about writing and getting agents.  Literary agents want the writer to have done most of the legwork building an audience through social media or blog posts.  That is a lot of pressure.  While it is not mandatory, it is preferred.  Therein lays my desire to publish my novel online.  (Well, that and I am looking for validation.)

Being an artist is tough.  Until one’s art is complete, he must live inside his own head and judge his talent on his own.  There is a lot of doubt and fear that comes with that kind of responsibility.  I think that may be why so many people never finish what they start.  The inner critic just kills any beauty that may blossom from one’s creative mind.  In an effort to combat that, I have created my own rules of writing.

1 – Throw all the paint on the canvas as quick as you can.

2 – Take your time editing and refining the details.

3 – Trust your gut!

4 – Don’t take criticism personally.

5 – Always finish what you start.

February 3, 2015

Excuses and explanations

If it hasn’t become abundantly clear, my plan to do a writing prompt every day for a total of 365 has taken a back seat. My evenings are full to the brim with my social life and school that there just isn’t enough time. At least I’m still exercising my brain.

I’m rather frustrated with myself. I am meant to write and submit a formal argument essay in my english class and for once I have nothing to debate. The usual issues that get my blood boiling don’t seem to have the usual potency. I must be broken. Given a task I could do for no reason except to vent but instead can’t even find the words. I know what’s causing the block in my brain. It’s the same issue that has kept me from finishing my novel, I am going to be judged. My mind gets so caught up on structure and tone that I fail to actually do any real writing. It’s terrible. I just need to relax and trust in my ability. When I dig deep enough in my heart I know that I can do this. I’m just allowing my fear to keep me from accomplishing anything.

Onto other news… My husband was fired from his job which makes me the sole bread winner. Weird. In addition, we also have a new roommate. Which is rather handy cause we will need the extra cash.

My friend Jesse and his girlfriend broke up. She bragged to their ex-roomy about having an affair with some chick and when the friend had the chance told Jesse every detail. Needless to say their relationship was over.

It’s crazy to think how quickly things change.

January 25, 2015

Saved in my phone

A year of writing prompts
January 23
Write about an author that turns down the opportunity many authors would kill for. (I’m paraphrasing. I’m doing this on my iPhone.)

Ferris called Jared vibrating with excitement. The novice novelist could hear the feedback of his agents enthusiasm over the line as a low hum.
“You are not going to believe it!” Ferris said for the tenth time. (Many had been in quick succession.)
“Either you can tell me or I’m hanging up. As much fun as it is to play guessing games in really not in the mood.”
“Not on the phone! Meet me at Sandrini’s downtown and we can discuss it over dinner. I’m buying kid.”
The agog agent didn’t even wait for a response before he hung up.
Jared pocketed his traditional flip cell phone and headed out.
The drive downtown was quicker than he thought it would be, but after all it was only noon on a Wednesday.
Sandrinis was an Italian restaurant in a converted basement below a hair salon. The exposed brick walls were bright red against the stained concrete floors. The circular, cherry wood, bar stood in the center, dividing the dining room from the pool table.
Jared descended the steps into darkness. Once his eyes adjusted he noticed ferris across the room, his nose in his smartphone.
The new author strutted over to the booth and removed his coat before he slid in.
“Order whatever you want!” Ferris said, beaming. “My treat.”
The two perused the menu in relative silence; ferris was humming to himself a tune Jared didn’t know.
Since being dragged across town against his desire to stay quiet at home, Jared decided to make the most of this lunch. He found the most expensive thing on the menu and ordered it without hesitation. Ferris gaped for a moment before grinning and waving his hand.
Jared sighed and ran a rough hand through his brown hair. It felt weird to him to be outside. Then it dawned on him that this was the first time in two weeks, since Lorrie and he had parted ways.
The sadness bean to creep over his shoulders onto his chest.
“Now are you going to tell me?”
“Your book has been chosen to be turned into a big blockbuster movie!” Ferris squealed with delight and once he had finished it was silence on the line.
“This is not going to happen.”