Monday, May 7, 2012

The Philosophy of Aristotle

There have been many accomplishments in the past 4 weeks or so since my last post.  I finished the semester of school, achieving not only an A in my Creative Writing class, but finishing with a 4.0 for the semester bringing my cumulative GPA to a 3.82.  I'm very happy with it, but I am also happy with the advice I was able to receive from my writing professor on how to go about getting an agent, getting published, and even blogging.

There are many things that I have learned this past semester, including that while I may have confidence issues with myself, to have them with my writing as I have in the past, is a detriment to my publication status.  Since I've realized this, I've been working to put my insecurities aside and write, create, and more than anything submit my writing to contests and magazines. 

Shortly before the semester ended, I submitted four short stories to a writing contest.  It's a beginning.  I still have many more steps to take.  However, I've been working on writing my novels as well, and I am excited to do so.  I sometimes think I give myself extra stress because writing just shouldn't be so much fun!

I've also finally procured a copy of the philosophy of Aristotle regarding: metaphysics, logic, physics, psychology, ethics, politics, and poetics.  I am excited to reread Aristotle's Poetics and to indulge myself in his other works. 

I am also looking forward to rereading Joseph Campbell's The Hero With A Thousand Faces and Stephen King On Writing.  Besides the fiction books I am intent on reading this summer, I have a nice round list of texts to apply myself to.

Spring cleaning has been my major priority for the last week or so, but once it is complete, I get to devote myself to my daughter, to my writing, and to my books.  I am looking forward to a wonderfully vibrant summer this year.

First, find out what your hero wants. Then just follow him.  ~Ray Bradbury




Saturday, April 7, 2012

When Your Story Calls

When your story calls, do it a favor: listen and answer.  Listening is half the battle, but once you get listening down, you realize the work is far from over.  You must answer.

I have gotten very adept at listening to the stories that float, or blaze, into my mind.  However, most times I let them wander aimlessly, waiting in the foyer to be called upon.  Most times I get to them much later than their appointment called for.

Tonight, however, I am pleased that I answered and quickly.  I didn't wait for my mind to cool, I sat down and blazed up the fires in my mind and wrote an entire story I came up with only yesterday.  For once, I had no deadline, no assignment, no set goal to accomplish any type of specific writing for this week outside the realm of school (if you saw my schedule, you'd understand why).  However, I felt the desire to write, and I answered it without excuse or procrastination.

And now my portfolio is one story heavier.  From beginning to end, it is only 955 words, but that's 955 words of an entire story, and 955 words more in my repertoire than there was this morning.  I am happy.

This is writing, for me.  This is the fun and the excitement.

The business side, meanwhile, is rapidly approaching.  I asked my husband to assist me in working out some kinks in that area, and he's doing some research for me as well in regards to agents, contests, et cetera.  This way, I can take care of the writing and editing, and when I'm done, I will have all this deliciously terrifying publishing information to begin submitting to.

I have a feeling that this summer will be different from all the rest.  And I believe it's about time.  I have my Creative Writing teacher to thank for that as well.  When he talked about the anticlimactic feeling of being published, it made me feel a lot better, ironically enough.  It seemed to be the exact thing that I needed to hear to give myself ground in the publishing arena.

So stay tuned for some future posts this year about submissions and the journey of going through all of those.  I'm sure many will be enlightening, frightening, and more than likely, worth a few laughs at my upcoming experiences.

Current Book: To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

I think one of the great things that fiction can do is give us the second chance that life denies us. ~Paul Theroux

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Save the Drama. . .

And, of course, now that the fiction unit of Creative Writing is complete, we are moving onto drama, or composing short plays.  This unit has always intimidated me because I feel I am the most dreadful at dialogue.  However, I feel a lot more creativity flowing within me and I think I can accomplish some assignments that I'm happy with this time around.

The first assignment gave me what I thought was a great idea for a one-act play.  Unfortunately, when I started writing it, it seemed to remain stuck in a one-note merry-go-round that I can't get to let go.  It takes place in an elevator that is stuck, ironically enough.  Perhaps I need to just continue and make that part of the point.  I was trying to propose the idea of being unable to escape the inevitable conflict, but maybe it should be about being unable to escape the inevitable irreparable conflict. 

It could be interesting.

I think my biggest mistake lately though, is possibly pulling too much from life.  It becomes difficult when you take an actual conversation and put it onto physical paper that will eventually meet someone's eyes other than your own.  Of course, no one would realize it was a real conversation if I didn't make them aware of it, but the naked vulnerability I feel already in writing it may suggest that a new idea would probably be a better fit for the assignment.

This, though, illustrates how much my life affects my writing.  When stressful life events are accruing in the background, it seems to create all sorts of difficulties including writer's block or the repeating turntable playing everything over and over in your mind until it is all you can think about. 

In some ways this works because I know the emotions are easy to reach and so much can be accomplished.  But in some ways this takes away from the control of being able to write outside of those lines. 

Knowing this helps me to step back and then approach any project when I've made a clear decision as to where I'm headed, but it's something I believe every writer deals with. 

Indeed, Charlotte Perkins Gilman wrote "The Yellow Wallpaper" after she had a mental breakdown shortly after giving birth to her son.  This breakdown resulted in her leaving her husband and child and moving to Los Angeles, CA where shortly after she penned the story.  Though the story is an allegory representing feminism and freeing women from the stereotyped inferiority of the time, I can tell much of her personal story is evident within those pages.  This is probably why the images are so powerful and terrifying. 

In effect, I think using my reality to direct my writing is not necessarily a bad thing.  However, I need to work on directing when and where to apply such usefulness.


If you dream it, you can do it. ~Walt Disney

Thursday, March 22, 2012

The Hunger Games

Why yes, I am a fan of the books.  And yes, I am seeing the movie tomorrow.  We bought our tickets about three weeks ago.  So tomorrow at 1:00pm EST, I am going to see the movie adaptation of the first book of the Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins. 

Making a movie from an author's book is always a flattering gesture.  However, so many are not well funded or cast.  Even more never make it past preproduction, and so many that are made are twisted into unrecognizable atrocities.  I enjoy so many books and I know that it's always exciting to see a story you love become a film, and it's so much more exciting when it turns out to be wonderful.

I'm definitely looking forward to the movie, though I do have my hesitations about the omissions that are bound to exist and the extra "Hollywood" moments that will more than likely rear a head or two, but I'm hopeful that they did this movie justice to its book counterpart.

I wanted to share my excitement, as well as share how much I respect the written word of authors who work so hard to weave their stories into unforgettable works that we get a chance to cherish and enjoy.  It's so much fun to be a part of such stories and books, and I'm sure it's especially nice for an author to see so many enjoying their work. 

I recall the day I read a particular short story of mine in a creative writing class while I attended California State University- Northridge (CSUN).  The joy of sharing my work was enlightening and even fun.  I couldn't stop smiling because I felt I was finally sharing something great to the world.  So many didn't want to give their copies of my story back and that in and of itself was flattering.  No, I'm not the greatest writer in the world, but there's no shame in enjoying how much people enjoy your work. 

I read a story in one of those Chicken Soup books (I believe it was for writers) where an author talked about the joy a small boy felt when he owned his first book.  He carried it with him everywhere and read it over and over.  She said that she wrote because of that small boy and she wanted to write something that would mean that much to someone else someday. 

How wonderful is it to share our gifts, our talents with the world?  How wonderful is it to see characters brought to life from books?  Characters that you love and cherish and enjoy.  It's a wonderful thing to me, and I'm so excited that I get to share in that tomorrow.  Then, when I get home afterward, I will write, read, and (hopefully) enjoy the fact that I was able to see some wonderful characters brought to life.

 One doesn't  write stories about people who are comfortable in their skins. ~Tobias Wolff

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Imagination's Inspiration

We had a wonderful discussion today in my Creative Writing class about innovative fiction, imagination, and how to expand our imagination. To be honest, I believe I could write volumes and volumes on this topic.  Especially because this is everything to a writer.  In fact, this is everything to anyone who works in any creative venue. 

Could an artist paint if they didn't have that inspiration to do so?  Could a musician write music without the imagination to create the notes on the page?  So to with writers, creativity and imagination is everything.  I know I mentioned muses in a previous post, but it is something I always enjoy coming back to.  And how can I not when it is so very important?

One of the topics we discussed was how we currently develop and expand our imagination.  This question has a bit of a text book answer for me because many of us find inspiration in the same ways: reading, music, watching children, and so forth.  However, I was surprised by my own answer because it wasn't until today that I thought of it as a creative inlet before.

When I met my husband, I discovered that he had a "box" that he lived in.  When he went to the movies, he went to the same movie theater every time.  When he shopped for groceries, he went to the same grocery store.  When he was thirsty or needed cigarettes, he went to the same 7-Eleven.  Even when he went out to eat, he would go to the same places and order the same item off the menu, every time.  Everything he did was always the same.  Even more, he took the same routes to get there, rarely deviating, if ever.

Then, he met me.

The moment I feel that I have driven the route enough, I want to change it up.  I want to know what the side streets are, I want to see the back roads, and I like to wander constantly.  There was a time that one of my friends and I would purposely go out and get ourselves lost just to see if we could find our way back.  We did it many times, and every time it was like playing pretend.  We would imagine what it was like to live wherever and sometimes we had a lot of fun doing so.  I knew every road in my old neighborhood, though not by name. 

I didn't just do this in driving.  I did this when I went on walks, on my bike (my mother still doesn't know I used to bike outside the neighborhood and well away from home at 10 years old), I did this when my brothers and sisters would play down in the creek behind our home, I did this anytime I felt the adventure of life was losing its luster.  Honestly, I can't really explain why, but it worked for me.  It still works for me.  I did it today, in fact.  I took a route home from class that took an hour to navigate.  Though, I recommend having eaten so you're not too light-headed in the midst of your exploration.

Living in your "box" is fine, really.  I don't see too much of a problem with it so long as you shake yourself up every now and again and go exploring for some new haunts to add to your box.  My husband and I now call it "expanding our box."  We like to think of it as creating a roomier, more complex box.

Now I know that exploration is getting expensive, at least by car.  But the idea is there.  Exploring, whether it be in music, in books, or physically traveling, is one of my favorite ways to find inspiration.  When you notice the world around you, you open that opportunity to notice something that drives that creative force in you.  How many people are inspired by art, by music?  How many are inspired by nature?  How many are inspired by it all?

When you open your mind, dead ends cease to exist and I find that a fun idea to toy with.  That is why I explore.  Sure, it may be my own backyard, but it makes it all the more meaningful to you when its your own.  And it makes it all the more powerful on the page.

What unique (or even normal thing) do you do to get inspired?  What causes the "what ifs" to stir within you?


I invent nothing.  I rediscover. ~Auguste Rodin




Friday, March 9, 2012

From the Library of B.C. Lewis

There were so many books that stand out for me in childhood, and so many authors who stood out for their never-fail nature.  Whenever I desired a great book of a certain style or genre, they were there, standing true and rarely ever letting me down.

The first chapter book I read was from the Frog and Toad series by Arnold Lobel.  I enjoyed the first one I read so much, I read the entire series of Frog and Toad books he had published.  My sister and I often fought over who got to read which one first, so I'm sure I didn't read them in order.  When I went back and read them a few years ago, I was still happily enjoying each one and I cannot wait to share those books with my daughter.

In this vein, I decided to let you all into my somewhat organized library of my favorites, my loves, my likes, my dislikes, my guilty pleasures, my current reads, and my desire to read lists.  This includes authors, books, and book series.  I will try to make sure I don't overwhelm you with too much information, but I love my books and I'll admit that this list was extremely hard to narrow down and choose.

My Favorite Authors:
Lois Lowry
Ray Bradbury
Roald Dahl
J.K. Rowling
Italo Calvino
Joseph Campbell

My Favorite Books/ Book Series:
The Giver by Lois Lowry
Gossamer by Lois Lowry
Skellig by David Almond
Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury
Matilda by Roald Dahl
Beowulf
The Odyssey by Homer
Antigone by Sophocles
My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George
The Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Stepping on the Cracks by Mary Downing Hahn
the perks of being a wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

My Guilty Pleasures:
Caroline B. Cooney Novels
The Goosebumps Series by R.L. Stine
Fear Street Novels by R.L. Stine
Betty Ren Wright Novels
The Berenstein Bears by Stan & Jan Berenstein
Curious George by (Margaret &) H.A. Rey
Threshold by Ben Mezrich
Newberry Award Winners
Any Series by Beverly Cleary

My Dislikes:
Emma by Bronte
Great Expectations by Dickens
The Twilight Series by Stephenie Meyer
The Percy Jackson Series by Rick Riordan
Charlaine Harris
Inheritance Cycle by Paolini

Books I've Read So Far This Year:
Life of Pi by Martel
Plague by Michael Grant
Lies by Michael Grant
Ranger’s Apprentice: The Lost Stories
Between a Rock and a Hard Place by Aron Ralston

My Favorite Genres:
YA Fiction
YA sci-fi/fantasy Fiction
Greek Mythology and Folklore
Short Stories

My Current Books/ Series:
*Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin (reading book 1 now)
*To The Lighthouse by Virginia Wolf (just about to start for Lit class)
Gone Series by Michael Grant (finished with all published materials)
The Enemy Series by Charlie Higson (finished with all published materials)
The Forest of Hands and Teeth Series by Carrie Ryan (finished with all published materials)
Ranger’s Apprentice Series by John Flanagan (finished with all published materials)
Tomorrow When the War Began Series (1 book left)
Fablehaven by Brandon Mull (1 book left)
Stoneheart Trilogy (2 books left)


I Want to Read:
Searching for Alaska by John Greene
Empire of the Sun by J.G. Ballard
The Candy Shop War by Mull
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
The Black Cauldron by Lloyd Alexander
Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice
World War Z by Max Brooks

So there you have it.  There are all my lists!  Please feel free to comment or ask questions about anything on my lists.  Yes, I'm admitting things that I normally don't.  I wouldn't normally admit to my family (and my sister, especially) that I do not like The Twilight Series all that much.  There are elements that I enjoy, and the fourth book was the best of the four.  However, I wasn't a fan of the climax of the entire series, nor was I a fan of her writing style.  This is why she is on that list.  And please, don't get me started on The Inheritance Cycle.  The first book was wonderful.  I stopped reading after the second book.  I just couldn't stand his blatant fan boy plot points and storylines.  It's Star Wars with dragons, and I drew the line at that discovery.

And while I know many people enjoy Charlaine Harris, particularly because they enjoy the HBO Series True Blood that is based on her book series.  I read three books and stopped when I pretty much discovered that it was Vampire Erotica.  Soft-core as it may be, I just couldn't get past that.  For me, there is so much more to literature, and I found that her use of that just got in the way of the real story of the series for me.  So I stopped reading them.

There are so many more books and authors that I could have put on all of these lists, but I wanted to make them somewhat manageable and I wanted to share where my brain finds joy in which words in which books.  

So, the great question is:  What is your favorite book and/or author?  Or even, what is your least favorite?  It's always great to share and discuss (and yes, even disagree if that's what comes of it).

When I was young...

Me, high school age
...I wrote instead of listened when I was in class.  This was a common occurrence, particularly in high school.  Perhaps that is why I didn't get the grades I could have achieved in some of my classes.  I was frequent to daydreams and I encouraged it. 

...I read as many books on the Summer Reading list as I could.  I'm not sure if other countries have these, but in the United States, public schools release lists of recommended reading for each grade level during the summer months.  I'm not aware of ever finishing lists, but I was always insistent that I read as many as I could get my hands on.  I felt left out if I knew anyone who had read these and I had yet to.

Me in kindergarten
...I owned very few books.  In fact, I don't any books that I owned personally.  My family was rather large and for that reason, had little money to spend on frivolous things.  Books were considered as such, especially when we had such a wonderful library system in our community.  This is where I read as many books as I could.  My mother always got so upset with the amount of books my sister and I would try to check out and eventually gave us the limitation as only what we could carry (I recall one instance where my sister and I had filled an entire children's section table with stacks of books as tall as us).  It is still amazing how much strength we seemed to have when it came to the books we picked.  My sister and I would be laden with so many.  And yes, we did read most if not all of them in the two weeks time we had.  In fact, most of those books were read in the first two days we had them.

...the first book I remember buying was a Scholastic book, bought out of the newsprint ads they handed out in elementary school each quarter.  I was always so jealous of all the children whose parents had ordered mounds and mounds of books for them.  I was especially envious of the kids who hated books but their parents had ordered something for them anyhow.  When I begged my mother and she finally relented that one time, I picked out one of the cheapest books I could find: Flight 116 is Down by Caroline B. Cooney.  I still have that book, and I still read it from time to time.

Sleeping Me
...I used to pretend I could read before I actually could.  I would run my finger along the words at the speed I thought it would take to read them and I would make up stories to go along with the pictures.  There were a few times, when I actually learned their stories, that I preferred my stories to the actual ones. 

...I learned to love books because of my sister, Heidi.  I have a very early memory of my mother going out and telling Heidi to watch me.  She was reading, and I was playing on the floor.  She was so engrossed in the book that I wanted to know what was in this thing that made her have such an expression on her face.  She explained to me what a book was and what was inside it, and from there, I wanted to read.  I'm not sure how old I was, but I do know that I was too young to know how to read.  And I learned fairly early.  I was reading on my own at four years old.   

When I was younger than I am now, my boyfriend (now my husband) bought me all the Harry Potter books (well, all the ones that were published at the time) in hardback editions.  That is still one of the best gifts I have ever received in my lifetime.  It was my first birthday with him in my life, and the most memorable.  He was so excited, he made me open it in the parking lot in the dark right after he bought them for me.  It was still a week before my birthday, but he couldn't hold it in.

Adult Me
Since that day, he has been insistent that I own books and that I work on my library that I hope to one day have.  We are also building up my daughter's inventory of books. 

I honestly don't know where I came to the idea that I love to write and create my own stories.  Perhaps it's because I've been doing it for so long.  I do know where my love of books came from and for me, that is where it all began.  Learning to write and read was one and the same for me.

Where did you find your love for books?  Where did you discover your love and passion for writing?  Was it a particular book or instance?  Share your experience because that is what writing is all about.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Post Disaster-A-Thon

I survived the illness of Write-A-Thon 2012!  I need a T-shirt to that effect at any rate.  Unfortunately, because I was unable to finish, I didn't get a chance to really update you all to let you know what happened during the write-a-thon.  I'll have to collect my images and notes and give you a post to that effect. 

In the meantime, however, I still have not decided when to re-convene my goals.  By the time I got over my fever (Thursday afternoon or thereabouts), it was time to start in on my homework for school.  Most of the remainder of my week was dedicated to studying and spending time with my family before school started back up today.  So the initial outlook on my re-issuance of my write-a-thon will not be until after the end of the semester.  As to that, I'm not sure yet.  I will keep you posted though. 

One of the other things I did this last week was that I compiled a list of things to blog about, so that you don't have to listen to my random ramblings about writing or not-writing.  Here's a taste of things I'm going to try to touch on: my favorite authors and books, my favorite genres to write and read, current reading, writing prompts, inspirations, schooling, guilty pleasures, favorite and least favorite English teachers, grammar, symbols, setting, character, topic, theme, plot, Aristotle, Joseph Campbell, mythology/folklore/legend/lore, and more. 

If you have any requests for topics of discussion on this blog, feel free to comment.  I welcome any and all suggestions.  Though this may benefit me greatly in writing this blog, I would like to be able to benefit others in what they may be searching for or wondering about.  That includes you.


Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Update #3

I'm going to have to take a raincheck on completing my Write-A-Thon as I have been feeling off for the past few hours.  I took my temp and it's sitting at 100.6 and that would explain my raging headache.  At the request of my husband, I will have to postpone my marathon until further notice.  I'm so sorry guys.  I'm so upset right now.  This has not been my day at all.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Update #2

As the 12 hour mark has passed by, I decided I needed to update you all on my progress, little as it seems to me.  My official word count as of this moment stands at 5,206.  At almost my halfway point, the number is far from where I hoped I would be.  Though I did not account for the snags, the Writer's Block, the lack of sleep, and the other such interruptions as are common in a household with a walking 10 1/2 month old (and a husband sitting right behind me involving himself in all sorts of distracting work). 

No, Nolan, it is not your fault that you are being distracting.  I'm allowing you to be.

Have you ever had those days at work where everything comes together and the work flies by and you are enjoying yourself, your work, and your effort?  That was the first Write-A-Thon for me.  It couldn't have gone better.

If you've had those days, then I bet you've encountered those days when everything seemed to be a task.  As much as you enjoyed your work, it seemed to be arduous, long, over-bearing, stressful, and not easy to achieve like you thought it would be.  Even as you push yourself through it, you wonder why it's such a task when you know you love it.  Yet, for some reason, today it just isn't happening.  That would be today.

I've been trying to look at the upbeat side of it all, and it is helping.  But this may be one of those times.  That's okay though.  As hard as it is to swallow right now.  It just means today is my difficult day, and as much as they like to make us all think otherwise, it will not last forever.  So onward I go!


Update #1

I know this is an odd time to do an update, but I thought I'd share a few things with you about my journey so far:

Chugging along...
This Write-A-Thon is definitely proving to be much more difficult and even arduous than the one before.  Last night I was excited but let my nerves give way to fear and anxiety and my start this morning was more of a huddled fetal position than a bullet leaving a gun.  I'll go into more detail at length when I have more time, but even now, as I have a lot more gumption and willpower, I am finding the words difficult to discover.

Perhaps this just isn't my day for writing.  Nothing I've written has made me truly inspired or giddy.  I'm merely following the trail I laid down for myself.  If I didn't know that editing while writing was a dangerous thing, I would have stopped and tried to fix everything.  However, the words would never get down and the story would never be written out.  Editing is for a later date, so I'm pushing on and trying to inspire myself as I go.

I am also very much behind my goals at this moment in time, but that is to be expected with the start I had this morning.  But I am not giving up.  I am not stopping.  I'm moving forward because if I don't, I'll be more than a little disappointed in myself.  I may not reach my side goals aside from finishing, but I'm going to do my best to find a way to get as close as I can. 

Thank you to all those who have commented and given me support in this.  I won't lie in that it helps me greatly to know that you are cheering me on.  I am truly grateful!

(Side note: It also does not help that upstairs, on my nightstand, lies The Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin.  It beckons to be read, but alas, I must wait.  Oh, the agony!)

In The Beginning...

My Write-A-Thon is already off to an interesting start.  I couldn't sleep last night, then I kept waking up.  When I finally did get some sleep, I swear my alarm clock was just waiting to go off.  I had some very interesting dreams.  And when I tumbled out of bed to begin today, I found it difficult to figure out how to put socks on and my shirt eluded my mind in terms of how to wear it. 

Despite my grogginess, I am going to move forward and get some writing done.  Granted these first words may be a bit of gibberish, but it is only a simple writing prompt after all.  That's why I do them, so that the writing that counts isn't half-asleep ramblings.  Like this may turn out to be. 

So let's get a move on, we got some ground to cover!

Monday, February 27, 2012

Tomorrow, It Begins

Yes, this is me (when I was a bit younger, of course).
In a short little while, I am going to tuck myself in, read myself a story or two, and count some stars on my ceiling.  Let's face it, I'm going to need all the energy I need because tomorrow at 6:00am sharp, after updating twitter, facebook, and this blog, I'm heading off on yet another 26.2 hour adventure in writing. 

Tell your friends.  Tell your neighbors.  Tell the guy next to you in the checkout line.  I am about to embark on my second Write-A-Thon, and I would love if you and they would cheer me on!  Hopefully next time, if not this time, you can embark on a Write-A-Thon adventure alongside me!  Trust me, it's always better when you know someone else is there, supporting you, cheering you on, and going through the same thing themselves.

So goodnight to the world!  I shall see you in the morning.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Details for the February 2012 Write-A-Thon!

The goals and the schedule have been formulated, and I am ready to share.  The official February 2012 Write-A-Thon will take place on Tuesday, February 28, 2012 beginning at 6:00 am, Eastern Standard Time.  As before, the Write-A-Thon will continue for 26.2 hours, ending at 8:12 am, EST Wednesday, February 29th.  Any and all of you are welcome to join in and write that day.  The more, the merrier.  And no, you don't have to be crazy like me and write for 26 hours straight like I will be doing. 

As before, I will be updating my Twitter and Facebook page regularly to mark my progression, and I will try to take all the pictures I can so that you can "be there with me through the long hours!"  My goals for this marathon are as follows:

1. Write 15,000 words.
2. Complete Creative Writing fiction assignment.
3. Write for at least one hour on writing prompts.
4. Complete Chapter 9-14 in E.
5. Write general outline for E.C.



My goals aren't too far off from what I outlined last time.  However, I'm definitely having my reservations once more about whether or not I'll be able to complete it.  I did last time, and I met every goal and had a lot of fun doing it, but it was difficult and I was not without doubts of being able to finish.  Right now, I am going to try to focus on my previous victory and try to enjoy my writing time.  The nervousness is hard enough.  I conquered it once, but can I do it again?

I am allotting myself an optional 3 hour nap if needed (though I'm hoping I won't), and plenty of breaks with a time limit to keep myself consistent.  So now I have a lot of things to do this weekend in preparation for this Write-A-Thon.  I mean, I can't just leave my family hanging.  I have laundry, food, quality time, and normal homework and studying to keep up with. 

Tell your reading and writing friends and family.  Get the word out.  Share the information.  Comment or leave questions below if you have any, about the upcoming Write-A-Thon or anything in general.  I appreciate the comments I got in my last blog entry immensely!  It will definitely be nice to know I won't be alone on Tuesday. 

So, everyone, be ready!  Tuesday morning at 6:00 am sharp, the first Write-A-Thon of 2012 begins!!!  Stay tuned!

 

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Winter Break is Here! Which means....

...the Write-A-Thon is soon to appear!  That's right, everyone! I'm back with a vengeance!  So stay tuned because the Second Write-A-Thon is going to commence on Tuesday, February 28, 2012, starting in the a.m.  Details about the Write-A-Thon will be outlined tomorrow (I have a few things to go over and set up). 

As for normal life, I've adjusted my schedule to better fit my needs this semester, and I am finding myself getting things done, enjoying myself more, and (gasp) reading more.  Yes, I have enough time to read while going to school!  Last semester, my reading time consisted of biology textbooks and French verbs.  This semester, I'm reading short stories, poems, novels, and yes, the biology textbooks.  On top of it all, some of it is purely for my enjoyment, which is very exciting to me.  I'll admit, I'm easily excited about these things, but what's so bad about that?

My daughter is doing well.  She is walking now and is definitely a mischief maker, like her Mommy was (and still is).  She loves books and plays with and looks at them far more than any of her other toys combined.  She gets read to a lot as well (there's a surprise) and she definitely has favorites.  I just wanted to share that with you all because if you love books as much as I do, I know how proud you can be to see it passed on to your children.  I am ecstatic!  I can't wait for her to be a little older and then I can begin to read her fairy tales, chapter books, and all the wonderful stories I grew up on intermixed with all my new discoveries of late!

In writing, I've been focusing more on my Creative Writing class.  I turned in a poetry portfolio this past Tuesday consisting of five poems and a one page reflection of what we've learned about our writing this semester.  I was honest and up front about everything.  Although I will admit, I was rather embarrassed when he had us read our reflections to other classmates.  When it comes to reflections and assignments from professors that I look to for an honest opinion, I tend to be rather straightforward in what I am requesting by way of feedback.  So when I wrote the reflection, I talked about my struggles with self-confidence and in wanting to get published eventually.  Reading it to my peers, I felt a little egotistical indicating my desire to be published (though for the life of me, I'm not sure why that would sound egotistical) and then more than a little uncomfortable sharing my problems with confidence. 

However, I was pleased with my five poems that I turned in.  Only one was written before the semester started (which he had mentioned we could do for the extra poems that we turned in that weren't assigned), but I did edit it.  It's a poem I rather enjoyed writing and re-reading.  I especially enjoy it with its new editing as well.

I lightly edited Not Important and I heavily edited Dear Left Fallopian Tube.  The results were nice, but poetry has always left me feeling on uneven ground.  It seems that the least amount of time I spend with a poem, the better, and I feel there's something not right about that.  Again, it could possibly be my insecurities.

Now, though, the class is moving into short fiction, and already I am feeling more comfortable.  I wrote a few micro-fiction stories that were less than 55 words.  I have another assignment to do this next week (I may use it as one of my writing exercises for the Write-A-Thon) which is going to be fun, but I'm most excited for the third fiction assignment, which I am already thinking about as well. 

For now, I'm going to go stick my nose back into my book.  Just remember, keep checking in for the details of my Write-A-Thon next week, and also stay tuned for more blog updates with lots of interesting topics and discussions. 

Please comment below if you have anything you would like to ask or share with me or my other readers.  I welcome it!




Monday, February 6, 2012

Because I Am Writing...


Dear Left Fallopian Tube,
Bethany Lewis

Sometimes I dream you still reside
within me, mediating between Left Ovary
and Uterus. You kept them in line, in like,
even. Now they don’t associate
with each other
  At all.
I miss you.

I feel only part
woman, Despite having your sister,
Right,
Alive and well.
We speak of you silently
with utter sincerity; I wanted you to know.
We will not forget your caring nature.

The way you held on so tight
to her. How you tried to keep
her, Innocent and whole;            
                   it was not your job.
I know you only meant the best
for her. You wanted her
as much as I; for her to grow and thrive within you.

When you lost
her it shredded you. The electricity
of your despair did not go unseen.
As you bled into me, my mind
slowed
and became dumb
      I apologize.

My body could only hold
your tattered
lifeless remains,
               and hers,
Encasing your loss
within my abdomen. Concealing such calamity
from the harsh judgment of the world.

Awaking without you
was bitter. Right knew not what to do
without her sister. You left me,
                                              left us both.
Neither of us can understand what we could have done
to deserve such an empty departure
as yours                                                                                                               and hers.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Dear Readers,

Well, I did get a few comments, but I was hoping for more, especially since the two comments came from my sister and my husband.  Yes, I have revealed that they, too, read my blog.  While I am aware that I don't get very much traffic through this blog, I was hoping that a few of you would come out of the woodwork and comment or ask questions.  So, since my readers tend to be the silent type (which is okay, too), I will answer the question my husband left and give you a snippet of writing for my Creative Writing class.

Question from Nlewis: What do you love about writing?

I believe the question should be worded: What do I not love about writing?  I love so much of it.  I love telling stories.  As far as my memory stretches, I always had a story to tell.  I delighted in telling stories, hearing stories, and when I was finally able to, reading stories.  While I delight much more in fiction, I am finding certain niches of non-fiction that tend to draw my eye and mind as well.  However, I tend to be more fickle in that respect.  I love how stories are written.  I love the patterns they tend to follow, the rules they tend to bend and even break, and I love the journey they all take.  Writing allows me to create my own paths; my own journeys that tend to break or bend rules.

I also love words.  Words are such an ambiguous thing to me.  They have so many meanings and with simple letters strung together to form words, you can create innumerable images and worlds that can mean whatever you would like them to.  It is a mysterious world and it is one I am passionate about.

In general, I am in love with books and everything they represent.  Back in 2001, I attended the University of Oklahoma for a single semester and had the blessed opportunity to utilize their magnificent library to study, read, and explore.  And explore, I greatly did.  I explored every level, every floor, every room that I was possibly allowed to enter.  They have a section (which I later learned many large libraries, particularly University libraries, had) called the stacks.  It was several stories from what I recall and the floors in this section were semi-transparent.  You could look up and see the silhouette of any feet above you and look down and see a blur of color of someone should they be below you.  In these stacks were just old bookshelves lined with old, dusty books.  There were books in every color, size, and shape.  There were newer books buddying up to older texts with worn spines or aging pages.  Some books had those generic covers, some had their title imprinted beautifully on the spine while some remained anonymous until opened and revealed.  I was in awe of how many books there were.

I grew up in St. Louis, Missouri, which had quite a fine public library system.  I had a library card at age 4 (I believe I still have it too) and bi-weekly my mother took however many of us children wanted to go to the library and check out some books.  I was always there.  While I know I did not read every book on every shelf, I certainly knew my way around that library.  As the years passed, we went to other libraries in the same public system and I began to learn to navigate them and peruse the titles in each.  But when I went to that library at OU, I was speechless.  After I explored and learned how to find my way through the maze of books, I would go to the library and sit in different places every day.  I would walk up and down the stacks and run my fingers along the delicate spines of all these books and listen to all the unsaid, type-written words in each book from each author.  I saw every writer, every story, every subject, and I imagined every telling.  I drunk it all in as long as I could, and then I would retire to the Great Reading Room where I would sit and pretend to read or study and watch everyone in my peripherals and envision their thoughts and their studies.

I should have know by then that I was desperately in love with books and libraries and that I always would be.  I still wander through libraries, back and forth, touching the spines and envisioning all the information, but no library has ever had so great an impact on me.  The library is beautiful, and I am not ashamed to say that when my husband and I were engaged, I looked into a few libraries to get married in.  Alas, there rules were a bit too stringent and not very wedding-friendly so we moved on, but I still dream of that wedding picture of my husband and I donned in our wedding attire and posing amidst those beloved stacks.

To get back to his question: What do I love about writing?  Again, what do I not? I love writing, I love words, I love books, I love pencils, pens, erasers, ink, my writer's bump, writing, typing (both on a computer and a typewriter), stories, poems, plays, songs, paper, the smell of books, stories, ideas, imagery, abstractions, figurative language, editing, everything.  Well, I could say I dislike Writer's Block tremendously, but who doesn't?  I understand why it exists, and there are ways around it, but it will always suck.

To give MelD her request, I will provide you all with a list poem that I had to write for my Creative Writing 2800 course.  The rules for this poem are as follows: Write a poem that is simply a list of concrete statements (either phrases or complete sentences or descriptions- do not use only single words, however).  See what happens when you speak in images only, no explaining or telling.  No abstractions allowed!!

Because of these rules, this is not my favorite poem.  This is not my favorite project, but here is what I wrote:

Not Important
Bethany Lewis


One balled up tissue, used
and used again, one blue iridescent box
of Kleenex lined with aloe and vitamin
E. One soda can three-quarters full
of Diet Dr. Pepper. The can is still cold.

One pair of glasses,
not mine. One red watercolor
pencil, one mechanical
pencil, one pair of fingernail
clippers, recently used.

A French syllabus, half in French
and the other English. One
black folder, Twenty-four colored
pencils, a manual sharpener
alongside a single highlighter.

Five hundred
sheets of printer paper, Sixteen photographs of different
angles of the same infant
in the same Halloween outfit,
One pair of scissors.

One bill, unpaid, one flashlight, one USB
drive, six pens, two wood pencils, three
markers and a glue stick.
One glade room freshener,
a lamp, and a laptop complete
with purple mouse and Asian
symbol mouse pad

Atop a white writing desk
Loved, hated, used for studying,
Writing, eating, drinking, sex,
and surfing the Internet.

Where letters were written, friends
made and lost, Pictures
shared, calls relayed
damaged in anger and often
forgotten under papers and books.
Dragged from apartment
to apartment to home to apartment.

Just a white writing
desk. Unimportant and soon
to be replaced.


Quote of the Day:  'Classic.'  A book which people praise and don't read. ~Mark Twain

Friday, January 20, 2012

Does 2012 Hate Me?

I did not state that I would not be online to update my blog in retaliation of SOPA.  For those non-United States based readers: this is an Act proposed by the U.S. Government to stop pirating over the Internet.  It sounds harmless, however, along with it would be so many strings and Government-controlled "extras" that the very Act is in violation of our Bill of Rights in our Constitution.  I won't bore you with politics, especially since I don't have much interest in the topic overall.  Regardless, I felt it important to support the silence that most U.S. based websites took part in on Wednesday.  This is a very important bill and approval of this bill would change so much in regards to the Internet and even impact this little blog.

In the meantime, I spent Wednesday at school, learning a lot and wishing I were at home writing and hanging out with my daughter.  On Thursday, I woke up feeling great, I had a great morning with my family and we were going to go to the grocery store and do some shopping.  However, with Madeline in my arms (in her car seat, thank goodness), I stepped off the porch and immediately ended up face first in the snow when I twisted my ankle.  I had misjudged the step because everything was covered in snow, and the ice didn't seem to help my situation.  So, down I went, and back into the house we went.

Sick last week and hurt myself this week; I'm not sure if I want to know what 2012 has in store for me next week or the week after.  The good news is, Madeline was not hurt in the least and my ankle is much better today than yesterday.  I'm able to get around by myself and I'm only having problems with stairs.  The swelling is minimal and there is no bruising!  So I should be completely healed in the next few days.

In the meantime, there are words to be written, homework to be done, books to be read. 

As a reminder: I would love some comments about whether you are interested in seeing my writing, or even if you are interested in certain topics or aspects of writing.  I did receive one comment in my last entry (thank you, MelD!), but I would like to hear from more of you.  Do you hate the new design?  Do you want my title changed?  What can I address or do for you?

Quote of the Day:  If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that it is poetry.  If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. ~Emily Dickenson

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Bad Poetry and More Writing

Today in Creative Writing we talked about some of the poetry we read, watched a video with some poets who read their work.  It was from The Language of Life by Bill Moyers and the episode was called Swirl Like A Leaf (the video is found at this link).  The three poets highlighted in this piece were Marilyn Chin (my personal favorite of the three), Robert Bly, and Jimmy Santiago Baca (who is a close second).  They were all really wonderful and I am including two links above so you can get more information if you are interested.  If you enjoy poetry, particularly when it is read aloud, I do recommend watching this.  It inspires me to come home and write as much as is in me to say.

Afterward, we talked a little more and wrote a bit.  A bit means only about 10 minutes.  I am hoping that more and more throughout the semester we will be able to write in class.  I understand that the assignments need to be done at home, but I always felt it of utmost importance to write during class when you have that inspiration.  If you whet your inspiration's appetite, leaving it is a mortal sin to that very inspiration. 

We also went over a little more of what our first three poetry assignments are.  I am not crazy about the first assignment.  We have to write a poem that describes the rules to an imaginary game (it must be clearly unrealistic) or we have to write a list poem.  I, myself, am always writing lists so the second will do for me.  I'm just not sure I can write a poem of quality about an absurd game.  At least not now.

The second assignment, I already finished tonight.  It is a choice of four different ideas, my choice being to write a letter to a part of my body.  It still needs work, but I think it is a strong start with clear ideas of what I wanted to say and what I wanted to invoke.  I'm sure it could be better though, but at least it's out and existing somewhere other than my brain.

In other realms of writing, I am now making writing a daily part of my agenda.  I find that if I plan on taking a specific amount of time to write, it is easier to accomplish getting that time and taking advantage of it.  So I am writing anywhere from a half to a full hour everyday.  I will take more time when I can, but with my school work, I fear if I don't make the time and make myself accountable for my writing time, then it just will not get done.

I still have quite a bit of work to do, school wise, but I am finding it easier to finish now that I have set aside time to write.  All yesterday, while attempting to do homework on top of homework, I longed to write instead.  When I made the decision to write after I finished certain things, I found my focus easier and I was able to accomplish more in everything.  That was a very refreshing realization.  For me, believe it or not, just making sure I allot the time is all I need to get through the rest of the day.  I love it.

This is possibly a dissident question to inquire of everyone reading, but are you curious about any of my writing?  I've contemplated sharing some small bits (anything menial to my larger projects).  Would you be interested?  If you are, please comment and say so, and I may begin sharing some of what I write.  However, you must comment if you wish to have it published here.



Quote of the day:  Write without pay until somebody offers to pay. ~Mark Twain

Monday, January 16, 2012

Problems with Poetry

Yes, I am feeling much better, thank you for inquiring.  I am still recovering, but I am ready to dive into life again, headfirst and eager to feel the cool crisp inspiring scenes that are sure to present themselves.

Ever since I went to class last week, I have found that the assignments of having to write poetry has been hanging over my head like a wraith and a scythe.  It wasn't until yesterday that I realized why this is.  I mean, I used to write poetry every day and throughout the day on several occasions.  I quite enjoyed it and found it to be a wondrous outlet for any and every emotion.

However, then there came a time, a long time (several years long), where I wrote about only a few specific emotions and ideas: sorrow, anger, loss, emptiness, voids, darkness, and death.  Every poem I wrote in this five to seven year space of time centered around these themes and topics.

It is, therefore, no surprise to reveal that for much of my life, I've dealt with serious depression and anxiety.  I was diagnosed with situational depression in late 2002, and I weaned myself off my medication in late 2003 when I lost my insurance after moving to California.  In reality, I was never declared cured or healed or whatever it is they call it.  I was never told by a doctor that I no longer needed medication or therapy, and that may have been why I went through such a long dark period in my life.  I will call those years My Dark Ages, simply as a quick referral.

It was extremely difficult to pull myself free from such an intoxicating thought process.  It is addicting and changes your body chemistry to continue feeding your mind and brain and body with chemical processes that simply progress these emotions and feelings.  One of the ways that I coped with such darkness is writing.  Writing personified my demons.  It personified my thoughts and allowed me to let them flow out of me and onto a page.  It allowed me to accomplish something which was a positive attribute, and in it, I had a lifeline.  Literally, it held me together and kept me alive.

When I met my husband, in 2005, I was still a very disturbed person.  Yet, through my writing and through my husband, I slowly came back to life.  I slowly stopped writing such dark and depressing poems.  I slowly transformed my writing into that of love, memories of childhood, and the subtle sadness that lingered from time to time.  I did manage to write some poetry about these as well, but much of my poetry would still hold an edge of that sorrow and darkness.  Eventually, I moved to screenplays, short stories, and now novels, leaving poetry behind in a transitional rut that I had created.

Now it has been about five years since I wrote a poem with such darkness, and it has been at least three or four years since I've written a poem in general.  I'm a bit lost and a lot apprehensive about embarking down the path of poetry once more.

I'm not afraid of the depression.  I'm simply out of sync with that side of myself and I am subconsciously aware of where my mind needs to wander to pick up my poetic voice.  I guess it's time to clean out the cobwebs and dust off the boxes of my mind and go through them.  Writing helps, so I don't fear the darkness.  Maybe I am fearing stagnation?  What more do I have to say in lines and stanzas and rhythms?  I'm sure there is much, but for the life of me now, I am still at an impasse.

It's frustrating, but my methods are getting me there, even if a little slowly.


Stay tuned for another update tomorrow.  I have much to say and many different topics I wish to share.

Quote of the day: To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong. ~Joseph Pearce