The first book I ever loved and still hold in a very special place in my heart is the Chronicles of Narnia. I remember reading it and falling in love with the wardrobe which opened itself to a very magical place. If you've seen the movie you know what I mean, but before the movie were the books and only my imagination. I also remember that every closet, closed door, or closed wooden item became to me a chance to get into Narnia. I opened all of them with great excitement and frequently greater disappointment. I'm sad to say, I never got into Narnia through a wardrobe. I did visit there often within the doors of my mind however.
While I can't say for sure, but I think that my Dad introducing me to this masterpiece of writing first beyond any others crafted my love not just of reading, but also of writing. The idea of being able to jump into pools of water in the Wood between Worlds was intoxicating. Though to be honest I didn't remember that aspect of the Chronicles until I was older.
But imagine for a moment what it was like to be a child and being able to open a book, any book, and step into such a magical place where animals talked, wicked witches played havoc and lions brought about life.
I believe that every avid reader has the same sort of memory. We always remember the first book that showed us the magic of our imagination and the richness of worlds beyond our own lives.
I also believe that Narnia was the inspiration for my first hideaway as a child. There was a small empty place underneath the stairs of one of the homes I had lived in on the cusp of being a teenager. I had found it and still, despite several years passing since the first closet I had opened in the hope of finding Narnia, I had opened that small closet door one last time with the same hope. As I said before, I never found it, but instead I made my own Narnia. Except there wasn't talking animals, nor were there wicked witches hoping to dominate the world.
No, in my world there were women who didn't dismiss a child. Women who were strong, powerful, and kind to me. My first hero lived there and for the life of me I can't remember the name I had given her. She was my companion, even when I left my little hole in the wall. She went to school with me, she listened to all my music, heard me talk to my friends. She was there when I did a concert and clapped harder and stronger than anyone in the audience. I confided all my secrets to her and she gave me the strength to grow.
I have since outgrown the childish fantasy of her as my friend. Now, she's my favorite character of all that I have created. I measure all of them to her. She is my muse, my inspiration and at the age of fourteen I finally called her Lady Nyx. A fitting name, a grown up named coming from a mind of (or so I believed at the time) a grown-up mentality. Yet, even now that I'm 30, there is no other name I can give her that would fit quite the same way.
Still, when I think of her, I always remember I found her when I couldn't find my beloved Narnia. I'm much too old to be searching for wardrobes, closet, pictures, or little rings to that could pull me from one world to the next. Instead, I look to the Chronicles themselves, opening the pages and absorbing the words as if it was the first time all over again. I'm that little girl sitting on my Dad's knee listening to him weave the words into a magical world that only I could see.
It's my turn now to take the place of my father as I open the first pages and weave them for my children in the hope of sharing with them the first magical gift I ever received. While I will never tell my children this, I hope one day to find them to be opening every closet, closed door, or closed wooden item in the hopes of finding their version of Narnia. In fact, I hope that all the children of today do the same and never stop believing in magic.
Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Ranting!
Okay, this should be short....I hope. I just have to get it out of my skull before I collapse in my bed.
Memory Lane! Curse you. Once again, my book is haunting me. I kid you not, I'm in the car today and all I was thinking about was Memory Lane. I had to get my house ready for a guest who never showed and I was cursing about the fact that I couldn't write in Memory Lane. I was driving to an appointment and I was irritated because I'd rather be writing and I won't even get into how the kids kept me from doing it. Then, just to make it worse, my goal of cutting out enough words to have it at the 89,000 words mark failed unless I can find some relief in the first four chapters which I just now remembered weren't subjected to my carving knife.
ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Will this torture never end??????
I think what makes it all the more difficult is that I really like my book. It brought me to tears yesterday in fact. I kid you not, I was reading a powerfully emotional chapter and wanted to bawl like a baby. I didn't, can't imagine explaining that to my kids. No, no, don't want that. Of course, it's a good sign that I wanted to cry, but also a bad sign because I can't be sure if I'm crying because it's emotionally provoking or because I wrote the damn thing.
One last thing about Memory Lane. The biggest crux of all in my opinion. This book has a lot of swearing. When I say a lot, I mean it. I think there is at least one cuss word in every scene. So what happens when I get into the mind of Alex? I start to cuss about EVERYTHING. This is, of course bad, especially considering that the kids are with me all the freaking time. So I have to bite my tongue throughout the day. It's a shock that I don't have permanent grooves in my tongue from the effort.
Anyway, that's where I'm at now. I'm going to carve up the Epilogue then attack Chapters 1 - 5 to inch me closer to my goal word count. Which of course will cause me to have to do the most painful of all things, cut out complete scenes. Just writing it makes me want to bang my head against the keyboard fruitlessly.
And through it all, the only thing I keep thinking is that, I asked for it. I want to do it despite the emotional, mental and physical stress it is putting me through. (On the positive side, I've yet to have a flare up from my wrist....now hopefully I don't jinx myself).
So that's my rant for the night. Damn Memory Lane!
Memory Lane! Curse you. Once again, my book is haunting me. I kid you not, I'm in the car today and all I was thinking about was Memory Lane. I had to get my house ready for a guest who never showed and I was cursing about the fact that I couldn't write in Memory Lane. I was driving to an appointment and I was irritated because I'd rather be writing and I won't even get into how the kids kept me from doing it. Then, just to make it worse, my goal of cutting out enough words to have it at the 89,000 words mark failed unless I can find some relief in the first four chapters which I just now remembered weren't subjected to my carving knife.
ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Will this torture never end??????
I think what makes it all the more difficult is that I really like my book. It brought me to tears yesterday in fact. I kid you not, I was reading a powerfully emotional chapter and wanted to bawl like a baby. I didn't, can't imagine explaining that to my kids. No, no, don't want that. Of course, it's a good sign that I wanted to cry, but also a bad sign because I can't be sure if I'm crying because it's emotionally provoking or because I wrote the damn thing.
One last thing about Memory Lane. The biggest crux of all in my opinion. This book has a lot of swearing. When I say a lot, I mean it. I think there is at least one cuss word in every scene. So what happens when I get into the mind of Alex? I start to cuss about EVERYTHING. This is, of course bad, especially considering that the kids are with me all the freaking time. So I have to bite my tongue throughout the day. It's a shock that I don't have permanent grooves in my tongue from the effort.
Anyway, that's where I'm at now. I'm going to carve up the Epilogue then attack Chapters 1 - 5 to inch me closer to my goal word count. Which of course will cause me to have to do the most painful of all things, cut out complete scenes. Just writing it makes me want to bang my head against the keyboard fruitlessly.
And through it all, the only thing I keep thinking is that, I asked for it. I want to do it despite the emotional, mental and physical stress it is putting me through. (On the positive side, I've yet to have a flare up from my wrist....now hopefully I don't jinx myself).
So that's my rant for the night. Damn Memory Lane!
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
I nailed it....I hope
Tonight I think I finally nailed my query letter. I'm actually, gasp, happy with it. I just hope it works out. Now all I need to do is finish editing the fourth draft, cut out close to 25,000 words *sob*, get it proofread then actually send the blasted thing off to get rejected a dozen so times before I can celebrate the victory of an agent which will then lead to the victor of publishing and starting all over again. YAY!
Sweet Mother, it seems like a long, long, long, long road until I get there. Writing. I remember back when I was 14 and I was swept up into the enthusiasm Mrs. Farrell brought about with her encouragement. I was going to be the next Tolkien. I knew I would be. Now look at me, I'm 30 (no sympathy please because I honestly don't mind it at all) and I'm stilling whining about how much further I have to go.
Well, at least I finished the book...mostly. On Fan Story I've been getting good reviews with great pointers and help from the peanut gallery (and I do mean it in the nicest of ways, honest). And these are complete strangers who have no affiliation with me personally other than a love for the written word so that's something. It can't be all bad. And people tell me that they are writing my name down when I give them a brief synopsis of the book so that when it does get published they'll buy it. We'll see how many actually do so when it does happen.
I have decided to start thinking of it as when instead of if. I made that decision because I figured my semi-pessimistic attitude was getting in my way. That conclusion came about from AJJE Games surprisingly enough. How did it happen? Easy. I had to give a speech (actually it was a long post) and in it I talked about a gentleman who taught me that idealism can push projects through. That got me thinking about that particular lesson.
I'm the first to admit, I don't prescribe to idealism. Too many things in my life have shown me that being idealistic just disappoints you. I could give examples, but I'm feeling pretty darn good about my progress that I don't want to go down that avenue. Maybe later..naw, on second thought never mind.
Anyway, as I get older I am coming to the terms to the reality of how I look at life. I'm cynical, but not overly much. I'm not one to trust people either. I actually, to be perfectly honest, I expect people to disappoint me all the time. Why? Because it consistently happens. I've yet to find the exception. If I do I'll probably put it here. But I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, I have to let go of that attitude. Oh, I don't mean actually trusting everyone that I come across. That's too ingrained to just fade away on a gust of wind. No, sadly, I'm stuck in that principle belief pattern. However, I need to give myself and fate a try. I think, just once, I want something to be the ideal instead of the disappointment or reality...which is often both anyway.
So, today...or more aptly, this night, I make a vow. I will think positively. I will shoot not just for the moon but for my favorite planet (okay, they don't call it a planet any more but I'm going to keep doing it because it's special to me personally so pppppbbtttttttttt) Pluto. I want the cosmos and frankly my dear, I don't give a damn about anyone who says that I don't deserve it.
And that is how I nailed it in regard to my letter. I said that to myself and then I just wrote it up. I've been saying it all week with my writing and managed to crank through about 8 chapters so far. Tomorrow I'm aiming for 9. That, incidentally, is the other secret of my success. Every day I have to complete a task. Read over at least 5000 words and do my thing. If I don't get it done in the morning, I work on it through the day. Period, no if, and, or buts.
Sweet Mother, it seems like a long, long, long, long road until I get there. Writing. I remember back when I was 14 and I was swept up into the enthusiasm Mrs. Farrell brought about with her encouragement. I was going to be the next Tolkien. I knew I would be. Now look at me, I'm 30 (no sympathy please because I honestly don't mind it at all) and I'm stilling whining about how much further I have to go.
Well, at least I finished the book...mostly. On Fan Story I've been getting good reviews with great pointers and help from the peanut gallery (and I do mean it in the nicest of ways, honest). And these are complete strangers who have no affiliation with me personally other than a love for the written word so that's something. It can't be all bad. And people tell me that they are writing my name down when I give them a brief synopsis of the book so that when it does get published they'll buy it. We'll see how many actually do so when it does happen.
I have decided to start thinking of it as when instead of if. I made that decision because I figured my semi-pessimistic attitude was getting in my way. That conclusion came about from AJJE Games surprisingly enough. How did it happen? Easy. I had to give a speech (actually it was a long post) and in it I talked about a gentleman who taught me that idealism can push projects through. That got me thinking about that particular lesson.
I'm the first to admit, I don't prescribe to idealism. Too many things in my life have shown me that being idealistic just disappoints you. I could give examples, but I'm feeling pretty darn good about my progress that I don't want to go down that avenue. Maybe later..naw, on second thought never mind.
Anyway, as I get older I am coming to the terms to the reality of how I look at life. I'm cynical, but not overly much. I'm not one to trust people either. I actually, to be perfectly honest, I expect people to disappoint me all the time. Why? Because it consistently happens. I've yet to find the exception. If I do I'll probably put it here. But I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, I have to let go of that attitude. Oh, I don't mean actually trusting everyone that I come across. That's too ingrained to just fade away on a gust of wind. No, sadly, I'm stuck in that principle belief pattern. However, I need to give myself and fate a try. I think, just once, I want something to be the ideal instead of the disappointment or reality...which is often both anyway.
So, today...or more aptly, this night, I make a vow. I will think positively. I will shoot not just for the moon but for my favorite planet (okay, they don't call it a planet any more but I'm going to keep doing it because it's special to me personally so pppppbbtttttttttt) Pluto. I want the cosmos and frankly my dear, I don't give a damn about anyone who says that I don't deserve it.
And that is how I nailed it in regard to my letter. I said that to myself and then I just wrote it up. I've been saying it all week with my writing and managed to crank through about 8 chapters so far. Tomorrow I'm aiming for 9. That, incidentally, is the other secret of my success. Every day I have to complete a task. Read over at least 5000 words and do my thing. If I don't get it done in the morning, I work on it through the day. Period, no if, and, or buts.
Saturday, 21 August 2010
Fear
You know, I'm one of those people who refuses to admit, out loud anyway, an honest fear. I find if I don't say it, I'm not. Like roller coasters for instance. I hate them, but not because I'm afraid of them. I hate them because I'm not in control of them. Does that make me a control freak? Sometimes, yes, I am. I'm a control freak in the car (I hate not driving). I'm a control freak when it comes to projects I'm personally involved in. When I was working, I didn't want to let go of the Hazardous Waste program because it was mine. I built it and I made it work so it was mine.....I could go on but I think you get the point.
So, admitting that I'm afraid of something is huge. Not just huge, but gargantuan. But again, I have found that sometimes true honesty means saying "I'm afraid." So, now, in a blog no one reads, I will say it...I'm afraid.
What do I fear? I'm afraid that the dream that I've aspired for since I was 14 will never come true. I'm terrified that I won't get published, that my writing isn't good enough to be published. That one day I'll have to give it up. It leaves me quaking, this fear. In thinking about it, I realize that my fear is what has caused me not to get off my ass and actually do what has to be done to make it possible. I have to send query letters out, to see if I have any takers. Until I do, I'll never know the answer.
It's hard for me to admit that, to accept this truth about myself. The thing is, I don't know why I can't pull myself out of it. To just grab myself by the nose hairs and get it done. It's not like me to feel this doubt in regard to anything that I've had to use my mind to pursue. I don't want to sound egotistical or anything like that, but truthfully using my mind to accomplish tasks is not that difficult for me.
I breeze through school with little to no effort (which is funny because I didn't do that well in High School). Mastering art and design has been simple, teaching myself to code equally so. What I succeed at mentally is directly countered in what I fail at in the physical department. Exercise and sports are really not my forte. Proof of this comes from how many injuries I've sustained over the years of attempting it when I was a kid. So in that I am balanced. I have also accepted that when I make up my mind to accomplish something, it's not that difficult either. A great example is to stop drinking sodas. I decided to stop and did it. Except for the first day, I don't have any cravings for it so that is good.
Yet, despite that, I'm afraid of putting myself out there. A part of me knows the reason, it's because I don't want to be rejected. That is probably the biggest struggle I've had all my life. The idea of it makes me nauseous, which is probably the source of this fear.
The question is, how do I push past it? If I ever figure it out, I'll write it here....
So, admitting that I'm afraid of something is huge. Not just huge, but gargantuan. But again, I have found that sometimes true honesty means saying "I'm afraid." So, now, in a blog no one reads, I will say it...I'm afraid.
What do I fear? I'm afraid that the dream that I've aspired for since I was 14 will never come true. I'm terrified that I won't get published, that my writing isn't good enough to be published. That one day I'll have to give it up. It leaves me quaking, this fear. In thinking about it, I realize that my fear is what has caused me not to get off my ass and actually do what has to be done to make it possible. I have to send query letters out, to see if I have any takers. Until I do, I'll never know the answer.
It's hard for me to admit that, to accept this truth about myself. The thing is, I don't know why I can't pull myself out of it. To just grab myself by the nose hairs and get it done. It's not like me to feel this doubt in regard to anything that I've had to use my mind to pursue. I don't want to sound egotistical or anything like that, but truthfully using my mind to accomplish tasks is not that difficult for me.
I breeze through school with little to no effort (which is funny because I didn't do that well in High School). Mastering art and design has been simple, teaching myself to code equally so. What I succeed at mentally is directly countered in what I fail at in the physical department. Exercise and sports are really not my forte. Proof of this comes from how many injuries I've sustained over the years of attempting it when I was a kid. So in that I am balanced. I have also accepted that when I make up my mind to accomplish something, it's not that difficult either. A great example is to stop drinking sodas. I decided to stop and did it. Except for the first day, I don't have any cravings for it so that is good.
Yet, despite that, I'm afraid of putting myself out there. A part of me knows the reason, it's because I don't want to be rejected. That is probably the biggest struggle I've had all my life. The idea of it makes me nauseous, which is probably the source of this fear.
The question is, how do I push past it? If I ever figure it out, I'll write it here....
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
What inspires
When I was a kid, one of the first cartoons I adored was not Strawberry Shortcake or the Care Bears. Nor was I influenced by Tom and Jerry, Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck. No, my favorite of all favorite movies was The Last Unicorn. I don't remember being fascinated with Unicorns at the time. I also don't remember when I first saw it. But I do remember how much I loved it and when I saw it out on DVD for my kids a few years ago I picked it up without hesitation. I knew that I had to share it with them. Yet, despite the years and the amount of times I have watched this beloved classic of mine, not once did I fully comprehend how much I was inspired and influenced by it.
Until tonight.
As a treat, I told the kids that I would watch one of their movies with them. I do this frequently when I've finished all my work and they've behaved for the day. Today they went beyond good behavior because when I sat down to do some writing, they didn't stay downstairs and disturb me with their play or with their questions. Instead, without any prompting for me, decided to play upstairs. I was so proud and thankful for their thoughtfulness, I decided to watch a movie with them. My daughter chose The Last Unicorn as she is at the age of adoring those wonderful and magical animals.
And I watched every second, mesmerized by the beauty of it and the story, the magic that shows us not only that we can fight against what frightens us, but that change proves to help us. Still, I didn't fully clue in on the impact that this story had on me until it came to the scene where the Wizard Schmendrick changed the Unicorn into a human woman. There she stood, pale as snow, with hair as white as the clouds looking frail, beautiful, and lost. It wasn't this that had transfixed me. No, what had was the pink star on her forehead that symbolized the place where her horn once stood. In that second, when she lifted her bangs to show that star, I realized how much of an impact this movie had on me.
What do I mean? My masterpiece, the Golden Crown, has in it a race of women who are strong, magical, and beautiful. They are powerful and important to the world I created. How can you tell when a woman is a Dancer? By the star on their forehead that looks (in my minds eye) much like the Lady Amalthea's star did on hers. I saw in that moment tonight not the Lady Amalthea, but instead the youngest Dancer in the frailty and the other two Dancers in appearance. A mix of my magical race who came to be to help save the world though they do not realize it.
When I saw that I was shell shocked. I never once thought that The Last Unicorn had made such an impact or had inspired one of the most beloved characters I have ever created. This shows me that all that I hear, see, think and experience eventually comes out in my writing. The world, in all its glory and divinity, is my muse and I hope I never, ever lose that. I hope that it will continue to inspire me as The Last Unicorn has for the rest of my life. I was so moved that I had to share it.
Until tonight.
As a treat, I told the kids that I would watch one of their movies with them. I do this frequently when I've finished all my work and they've behaved for the day. Today they went beyond good behavior because when I sat down to do some writing, they didn't stay downstairs and disturb me with their play or with their questions. Instead, without any prompting for me, decided to play upstairs. I was so proud and thankful for their thoughtfulness, I decided to watch a movie with them. My daughter chose The Last Unicorn as she is at the age of adoring those wonderful and magical animals.
And I watched every second, mesmerized by the beauty of it and the story, the magic that shows us not only that we can fight against what frightens us, but that change proves to help us. Still, I didn't fully clue in on the impact that this story had on me until it came to the scene where the Wizard Schmendrick changed the Unicorn into a human woman. There she stood, pale as snow, with hair as white as the clouds looking frail, beautiful, and lost. It wasn't this that had transfixed me. No, what had was the pink star on her forehead that symbolized the place where her horn once stood. In that second, when she lifted her bangs to show that star, I realized how much of an impact this movie had on me.
What do I mean? My masterpiece, the Golden Crown, has in it a race of women who are strong, magical, and beautiful. They are powerful and important to the world I created. How can you tell when a woman is a Dancer? By the star on their forehead that looks (in my minds eye) much like the Lady Amalthea's star did on hers. I saw in that moment tonight not the Lady Amalthea, but instead the youngest Dancer in the frailty and the other two Dancers in appearance. A mix of my magical race who came to be to help save the world though they do not realize it.
When I saw that I was shell shocked. I never once thought that The Last Unicorn had made such an impact or had inspired one of the most beloved characters I have ever created. This shows me that all that I hear, see, think and experience eventually comes out in my writing. The world, in all its glory and divinity, is my muse and I hope I never, ever lose that. I hope that it will continue to inspire me as The Last Unicorn has for the rest of my life. I was so moved that I had to share it.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
Where's Waldo? Fan Story Style!
All right, I'm pretty sure I mentioned it in my blog, but in case I didn't...here's what Fan Story is. It's a site where writers like myself can post their stories, scripts, poems...name it they can probably post it. Yes, even some rant and rave on it. Usually it's amusing...sometimes it's not. There are some really, really talented writers on this site and to be honest, it sometimes intimidates me. Yet, even though it does on occasion they have helped me find the error of my writing ways.
Now, before joining Fan Story I knew that I had grammar issues. What I mean is that grammar is my weakest point. Why? Well that's a funny story actually. It's the price of being a military brat to a degree. What usually happened is that I kept missing the initial instruction on grammar each time I moved. When I was in 5th grade in Florida, they taught the primary rules in 6th. When I moved to Colorado for 6th grade, they taught it in 5th grade. The story of my young life when it comes to grammar. So the primary rules were never actually drilled into my head like it did with others. That plus all the international traveling I've done is it really a wonder that I have issues? No, I thought not.
Yet, despite that I thought I had them pretty down pat....until Fan Story. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful they were able to show me just how much I need help. But to be honest, I think I prefer ignorant bliss.....but that's a different post I believe.
Anyway, what all these very helpful people do is they go through and find every....single....error and will fill up the review box with each and every one. Most are sweet, polite, and over all helpful. Sometimes you come across one person who gives a harsh review because you gave them your honest opinion....but again that's for another post.
While helpful in pointing out how badly my grammar sucks, it doesn't do a good job at teaching me to find my own mistakes so I started a new thing just within the last week or two. I call it "Where's Waldo Fan Story Style" I'm basically asking those who are reviewing my work to simply point out where there is a mistake then let me find it. This way they can still point out to their hearts content how bad my grammar is on a regular day and I'm still learning. Everyone wins! Now, hopefully it'll catch on for others as well.
Interested in reading my work? That's easy to accomplish, simply go here.
Now, before joining Fan Story I knew that I had grammar issues. What I mean is that grammar is my weakest point. Why? Well that's a funny story actually. It's the price of being a military brat to a degree. What usually happened is that I kept missing the initial instruction on grammar each time I moved. When I was in 5th grade in Florida, they taught the primary rules in 6th. When I moved to Colorado for 6th grade, they taught it in 5th grade. The story of my young life when it comes to grammar. So the primary rules were never actually drilled into my head like it did with others. That plus all the international traveling I've done is it really a wonder that I have issues? No, I thought not.
Yet, despite that I thought I had them pretty down pat....until Fan Story. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful they were able to show me just how much I need help. But to be honest, I think I prefer ignorant bliss.....but that's a different post I believe.
Anyway, what all these very helpful people do is they go through and find every....single....error and will fill up the review box with each and every one. Most are sweet, polite, and over all helpful. Sometimes you come across one person who gives a harsh review because you gave them your honest opinion....but again that's for another post.
While helpful in pointing out how badly my grammar sucks, it doesn't do a good job at teaching me to find my own mistakes so I started a new thing just within the last week or two. I call it "Where's Waldo Fan Story Style" I'm basically asking those who are reviewing my work to simply point out where there is a mistake then let me find it. This way they can still point out to their hearts content how bad my grammar is on a regular day and I'm still learning. Everyone wins! Now, hopefully it'll catch on for others as well.
Interested in reading my work? That's easy to accomplish, simply go here.
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