I can't believe I haven't posted since October. I've been so disappointed with my writing habits lately that I think even writing here has just felt...embarrassing.
I have not submitted Where We Fell to any agents yet. In fact, I have not finished writing the synopsis at this point. Sad face.
I have, however, started two new stories. But I've only written a few pages for each story, and I can't decide which one I want to stick with for now. So, clearly, the option is to just ignore both of them, right?
I blame Breaking Bad. And Netflix.
And Candy Crush.
These past several months have been frustrating. And expensive. The husband got laid off back in October from a job he was doing really well at, so that hurt. Then I had my surgery and the bills started coming in pretty much immediately. Then Christmas came around, and even though we tried to cut back, we still spent waaaaay too much money on gifts.
Then Gus got stuck in our neighbor's wall. I swear to god, I could write a novel based on that cat's adventures. Anyway, so that was a fun little unexpected $350 to the emergency critter removal company. Perhaps I'll write a future blog post about this incident, although most people have already heard the ridiculous story anyway.
Then our furnace partially died. Have I mentioned this has been one of the coldest winters in a long time? Because it has been. Our house was at around 57 degrees for days until someone finally could come out and fix it. Thankfully it was just a burnt out motor, but still. Another couple hundred or so to fix it, which we delightfully pulled out of our asses.
And now, our fridge has apparently decided, you know what? It's cold enough in your garage to store your food. I don't need to work anymore. So now the fridge and freezer are dead and we have two coolers full of food, including a ton of partially defrosted chicken and fish that will end up going bad, out in our garage. Not to mention all the stuff I already had to pitch- probably at least $50-100 worth of food, sitting out on our curb to get picked up with the trash today.
I have to look on the bright side. Or at least try to, anyway. I have a lovely home. We have nice cars and clothes. If anything truly terrible did happen I know we have wonderful friends and family who would help us out. But it's just...ENOUGH.
I welcomed 2014 with open arms, hopefully thinking this would be the year things start to turn around for us. Dan started a new job he's liking so far. I'll get my writing back in order and start submitting WWF at long last. I'm going to work hard at eliminating some of my stupid debt and medical bills. I still have these goals, but life sure is working hard at making me want to just dig a hole for myself in our backyard to bury myself in.
Anyway. I'll be back here more often again...I hope.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Friday, October 18, 2013
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Yesterday was my birthday, so I have now officially entered my 38th year of life on this planet. No longer can I say I am in my mid-30s. 37 is just a little beyond that age range, don't you agree? I am, however, still within that 35-39 age group so maybe that's why I'm still okay with it. Regardless, my birthday means I get to spend time with the people I hold near and dear, so I'm looking forward to all the festivities going into the weekend. Dan and my Thursday girls spoiled me rotten yesterday, tonight I will enjoy delicious Pad Thai, and tomorrow a big group of my loves are all joining me for dinner at D'Agnese's, one of my favorite Italian places.
My birthday clearly is also an excuse to eat lots and lots of food. And cake. Mmmm, cake.
The year ahead brings some changes, the most notable one coming up next week. I don't know if anyone remembers my post back in June, but I had some crazy medical issues all dealing with my nose. I had a skin infection called cellulitis that was undoubtably one of the most painful things I have ever been through in my life. When all was said and done and the infection finally cleared up, I was left with a slightly deformed nose due to the fact that the infection ate away at the cartilage near the end.
I've hated my nose pretty much my entire life. Whenever given the question of "If there was one thing about yourself that you could change, what would it be?"- my nose was always the number one answer. It was made even worse when I broke it several years ago after a drunken stumble into my armoire at night (ah, to be 27 again). So, when the doctor told me reconstruction was an option, and that since it was necessary due to the infection my insurance would cover it, I pretty much jumped on the chance to get it fixed. The doctor also said while they're in there they can also "take care of" some of my other issues, too, like my slight deviated septum, which should help with my breathing issues, and get rid of the lovely bump near the top.
Um. Yes, please.
In less than a week I go under the knife. I haven't had a surgery in over 14 years, so of course I'm nervous- scared about how much pain I'll be in and how sick I'll get from the anethesia. But to be completely vain, mostly I'm excited for the outcome. I wouldn't wish that infection I had on anyone, nor would I EVER want to go through something like that again. But if the result is an improved nose that helps alleviate some of my allergies, well, I have to say I'm pretty okay with that.
My birthday clearly is also an excuse to eat lots and lots of food. And cake. Mmmm, cake.
The year ahead brings some changes, the most notable one coming up next week. I don't know if anyone remembers my post back in June, but I had some crazy medical issues all dealing with my nose. I had a skin infection called cellulitis that was undoubtably one of the most painful things I have ever been through in my life. When all was said and done and the infection finally cleared up, I was left with a slightly deformed nose due to the fact that the infection ate away at the cartilage near the end.
I've hated my nose pretty much my entire life. Whenever given the question of "If there was one thing about yourself that you could change, what would it be?"- my nose was always the number one answer. It was made even worse when I broke it several years ago after a drunken stumble into my armoire at night (ah, to be 27 again). So, when the doctor told me reconstruction was an option, and that since it was necessary due to the infection my insurance would cover it, I pretty much jumped on the chance to get it fixed. The doctor also said while they're in there they can also "take care of" some of my other issues, too, like my slight deviated septum, which should help with my breathing issues, and get rid of the lovely bump near the top.
Um. Yes, please.
In less than a week I go under the knife. I haven't had a surgery in over 14 years, so of course I'm nervous- scared about how much pain I'll be in and how sick I'll get from the anethesia. But to be completely vain, mostly I'm excited for the outcome. I wouldn't wish that infection I had on anyone, nor would I EVER want to go through something like that again. But if the result is an improved nose that helps alleviate some of my allergies, well, I have to say I'm pretty okay with that.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
How I Spent My Summer
Clearly, I spent my summer NOT writing. While this makes me sad and somewhat antsy to get going again, all in good time.
June was the last time I posted anything here, and that's just downright shameful. But it is what it is. The summer months were crazy dealing with health issues, car issues, a crazy social schedule, and then, finally, a lovely beach vacation with my good friend Barra and her family. Getting away from it all was EXACTLY what I needed. I came home refreshed and raring to go. I've started writing a new story, but so far it's really only in the beginning stages. As in, first chapter is all that's been partially written. But it's a start.
The past couple weeks I've been working almost every day on my query letter for Where We Fell. I still need to update my agent list, but I think I'm juuuuuust about ready to start the scary submission process. I believe in this book. Everyone who's read it says my writing has come a long way since the first story- and for the record, I still think that one was good, too. Just needs some more work (and someday I swear I'll go back to it). Thanks to some major help from my sister in law- I think we've emailed back and forth at least 79 times now- here's where my query stands right now:
So I ask you, dear loyal readers of this blog, what are your thoughts? Does this sound like something you would want to read based solely on the query? Pretend you don't know me. Seriously. I will listen to any suggestions at this point. These are soooo hard to write, and I only have one shot to impress an agent.
I have a lot more to discuss, but I shall save those thoughts for another blog. Hopefully I'll get back to posting on a semi-regularly basis again here soon.
Thought for the day: How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes? (this was from a fortune cookie and I just loved it. I cannot take credit for this thought.)
June was the last time I posted anything here, and that's just downright shameful. But it is what it is. The summer months were crazy dealing with health issues, car issues, a crazy social schedule, and then, finally, a lovely beach vacation with my good friend Barra and her family. Getting away from it all was EXACTLY what I needed. I came home refreshed and raring to go. I've started writing a new story, but so far it's really only in the beginning stages. As in, first chapter is all that's been partially written. But it's a start.
The past couple weeks I've been working almost every day on my query letter for Where We Fell. I still need to update my agent list, but I think I'm juuuuuust about ready to start the scary submission process. I believe in this book. Everyone who's read it says my writing has come a long way since the first story- and for the record, I still think that one was good, too. Just needs some more work (and someday I swear I'll go back to it). Thanks to some major help from my sister in law- I think we've emailed back and forth at least 79 times now- here's where my query stands right now:
If only Jane had given Connor the five minutes of her time he’d
begged for, he wouldn’t be lying unresponsive in a hospital bed, stuck between
this world and the next. But Jane had been upset, still raw from the pain he’d
caused her, so instead she’d practically shoved him into the car with someone
who’d had far too much to drink that night.
Feeling desperate and full of guilt, Jane heads for the old well
in the Patterson fields. Town legend says that the ghost who haunts its
crumbling ruin, Gabby King, grants wishes to a rare few she deems worthy of her
help. Jane has always thought the stories of Gabby were just silly fairytales,
and even if she did believe them, she isn’t sure she deserves anything at all.
Yet if a simple wish can save her boyfriend, she’s
willing to try.
To her surprise, Gabby not only exists, but
wants to give Jane the chance Gabby herself never got with her own first love.
She offers to send Jane into the space between; the place, Gabby explains,
where souls go to await their destiny on earth. Connor’s soul is there in a
perfect world created by his mind, and if Jane can’t convince him to leave
he’ll never wake. Gabby warns Jane of the dangers a living soul faces to enter
this realm; she must go back when Gabby calls or she will get trapped there
herself.
However, once in the space between, Jane realizes persuading Connor to leave is not
going to be easy. He's angry, resentful, and has brought all the pain from
that fateful night with him. But Jane will do anything to bring him back, even
if it means trading her life for his.
WHERE WE FELL is a contemporary young adult novel with paranormal
elements, complete at 75,000 words.
So I ask you, dear loyal readers of this blog, what are your thoughts? Does this sound like something you would want to read based solely on the query? Pretend you don't know me. Seriously. I will listen to any suggestions at this point. These are soooo hard to write, and I only have one shot to impress an agent.
I have a lot more to discuss, but I shall save those thoughts for another blog. Hopefully I'll get back to posting on a semi-regularly basis again here soon.
Thought for the day: How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes? (this was from a fortune cookie and I just loved it. I cannot take credit for this thought.)
Friday, June 21, 2013
The Craptastic Month of June
Let me start off by stating that June has not been a fantastic month. Oh, it had potential to be pretty great, but it started off crappy and hasn't really gotten much better. This is not an excuse for why I've been so absent from this blog- and well, writing in general, it's just simply a fact.
The first Monday of this craptastic month, I started my morning off with a tumble down the stairs. Surprisingly enough, in all my clumsiness I have never fallen all the way down stairs before (I usually tend to trip going UP them). Thankfully, this tumble was no big deal, really. I scraped up my right knee and pulled my shin muscle pretty good, but no broken bones or anything. I even made it to Pilates for the first time in months that evening, although I did have a hard time doing some of the moves due to my sore leg.
That same week, I woke up on Tuesday with a very swollen nose. I thought perhaps I had a lovely zit a-brewing in there, because yes, I am 36 years old and still cursed with the occasional volcanic pimple from time to time in weird places. I messed around with it a bit, probably more than I should, and by the end of the day it swelled up even more and hurt when just the wind would hit my face. No exaggeration. It was like someone was continually punching me, over and over, right in the nose. The pain was unreal. On Wednesday morning, I took myself to the ER because the pain, if possible, was even worse. I had googled my symptoms and found out that it sounded like cellulitis, which is basically a bacterial infection of the skin. It can be caused by a cut, ingrown hair, etc- any minor injury will allow staph in and hence, the infection. Long story short, after arguing with the ER doctor that no, this could not possibly be an allergic reaction to something, I was prescribed an antibiotic and sent on my way. Nothing for the pain, which was still getting worse by the minute.
The next day I had my allergy shots, and I'm lucky that there's an ENT on staff there at all times. My allergist took one look at me and knew what I had (even though an ER doctor seemed basically clueless) and had the ENT look me over. He prescribed some other antibiotics and a cream and told me to stop taking the other antibiotic the ER had prescribed.
Nothing for the pain, though. Terrific. I was eating ibuprofen like M&Ms. I was a mess that night- the infection caused me to feel flu-like and achy on top of everything else. I wanted to rip my face off my head.
Oh yea, and we were leaving for Chicago the next day, did I mention that? A highly anticipated trip, a weekend of fun and sight-seeing and shopping, drinks and good food...and I was miserable. Somehow I rallied and still managed to have a good time, but if I had been home, you can be damn sure I would not have shown my face to the public the whole weekend.
I'm still not better, either. This infection has eaten away cartilage in my nose and it's still swollen inside. I'm afraid when and if it ever does go down I will be left with a lopsided, caved-in nose. Because, you know, I'm not already self-conscious enough about my nose.
Then this past weekend lightning struck again. My mom called me with the sad news on Sunday that our good friend, her old co-worker Joanne, had passed away. Joanne was a wonderful, funny, kind, super sweet lady whose laugh you could hear from a mile away. She was there for me through one of the darkest parts of my life, assuring me that things would get better and I'd feel whole again one day. She was the one who encouraged me to start writing again, that she "saw" me writing books for kids. Joanne called herself a "feeler"- she could just sense certain things about people. She had a sort of pyschic ability, you see, and let me tell you, she was right about a LOT of stuff. She's one of the main reasons I finished writing not one, not two, but three books. And now, for her, I am going to do my damnedest to get the third one out there and make something come of it. I will make sure that her prediction comes true, somehow, someway.
June can suck it. I'm glad it's over after next week.
The first Monday of this craptastic month, I started my morning off with a tumble down the stairs. Surprisingly enough, in all my clumsiness I have never fallen all the way down stairs before (I usually tend to trip going UP them). Thankfully, this tumble was no big deal, really. I scraped up my right knee and pulled my shin muscle pretty good, but no broken bones or anything. I even made it to Pilates for the first time in months that evening, although I did have a hard time doing some of the moves due to my sore leg.
That same week, I woke up on Tuesday with a very swollen nose. I thought perhaps I had a lovely zit a-brewing in there, because yes, I am 36 years old and still cursed with the occasional volcanic pimple from time to time in weird places. I messed around with it a bit, probably more than I should, and by the end of the day it swelled up even more and hurt when just the wind would hit my face. No exaggeration. It was like someone was continually punching me, over and over, right in the nose. The pain was unreal. On Wednesday morning, I took myself to the ER because the pain, if possible, was even worse. I had googled my symptoms and found out that it sounded like cellulitis, which is basically a bacterial infection of the skin. It can be caused by a cut, ingrown hair, etc- any minor injury will allow staph in and hence, the infection. Long story short, after arguing with the ER doctor that no, this could not possibly be an allergic reaction to something, I was prescribed an antibiotic and sent on my way. Nothing for the pain, which was still getting worse by the minute.
The next day I had my allergy shots, and I'm lucky that there's an ENT on staff there at all times. My allergist took one look at me and knew what I had (even though an ER doctor seemed basically clueless) and had the ENT look me over. He prescribed some other antibiotics and a cream and told me to stop taking the other antibiotic the ER had prescribed.
Nothing for the pain, though. Terrific. I was eating ibuprofen like M&Ms. I was a mess that night- the infection caused me to feel flu-like and achy on top of everything else. I wanted to rip my face off my head.
Oh yea, and we were leaving for Chicago the next day, did I mention that? A highly anticipated trip, a weekend of fun and sight-seeing and shopping, drinks and good food...and I was miserable. Somehow I rallied and still managed to have a good time, but if I had been home, you can be damn sure I would not have shown my face to the public the whole weekend.
I'm still not better, either. This infection has eaten away cartilage in my nose and it's still swollen inside. I'm afraid when and if it ever does go down I will be left with a lopsided, caved-in nose. Because, you know, I'm not already self-conscious enough about my nose.
Then this past weekend lightning struck again. My mom called me with the sad news on Sunday that our good friend, her old co-worker Joanne, had passed away. Joanne was a wonderful, funny, kind, super sweet lady whose laugh you could hear from a mile away. She was there for me through one of the darkest parts of my life, assuring me that things would get better and I'd feel whole again one day. She was the one who encouraged me to start writing again, that she "saw" me writing books for kids. Joanne called herself a "feeler"- she could just sense certain things about people. She had a sort of pyschic ability, you see, and let me tell you, she was right about a LOT of stuff. She's one of the main reasons I finished writing not one, not two, but three books. And now, for her, I am going to do my damnedest to get the third one out there and make something come of it. I will make sure that her prediction comes true, somehow, someway.
June can suck it. I'm glad it's over after next week.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
The bandages inside the pen
"You found the bandages inside the pen, and the stitches on the radio..."
The line above is from the chorus of one of my favorite Gaslight Anthem songs, Boxer. I remember singing it at home one day, and my husband shaking his head at first, saying he didn't get the lyrics. To me, they've always made perfect sense: through writing and music, I find a way to heal.
For as long as I can remember, when I've been upset or angry or depressed, I write. I think I got my first diary when I was in the fifth grade, a tiny, hardcover book with a real lock on it. I would hide the key in my jewelry box, tucked away under the felt so no one would ever find it. The thought of someone reading my most intimate thoughts scared the crap out of me. I was terrified of being teased even more relentlessly than I already was. Elementary school, and well, most of junior high, were not especially fun times.
As I grew older, I kept writing. My journal entries were sporadic, but whenever I was feeling frustrated or sad, getting words down on paper always made me feel better. I wrote terrible poems and long paragraphs of angsty stream-of-conscious thoughts, scribbling like a madwoman in a beat up notebook. Somewhere in my parents' house there are crates of notebooks full of stories and poems and probably a lot of really terrible writing. I couldn't bear to throw any of them away- each notebook represents a piece of me and who I was becoming.
Music became more and more important throughout high school, too. I loved punk rock; fast poppy songs by Bad Religion, Lagwagon, Pennywise, etc. Their songs were the perfect anthems to my crazy, confused life at the time. But I also found myself weeping to music from the Indigo Girls and Tori Amos. They inspired me to write better, to really try to create beautiful imagery and say what I wanted to say without flat-out saying it...if that makes sense.
My latest novel, Where We Fell (a real title!!), was inspired by two songs, both about wishing wells. The Airborne Toxic Event's Wishing Well is where I actually got the title from; it's a haunting song about feeling low and being full of regret. The other song that inspired me was A Silent Film's Danny, Dakota and the Wishing Well, a lovely song about being afraid to take a chance but then throwing caution to the wind to go after what you really want (Sidenote: these are my interpretations and how the songs make me feel. Music is so subjective, though, that someone else may get an entirely different feeling from these songs. Just sayin'.).
I understand that not everyone feels the same way about music that I do. Some people can listen to a song and not feel anything at all, even though they may appreciate the beat or the singer's voice. But I love being moved by a lyric, getting that ah-ha! moment when it seems like the band just gets me. Like they got inside my head and made sense of all my jumbled thoughts and came up with this beautiful song just for me, to make me feel better.
And I thank them for that, for giving me the words I can't find on my own sometimes.
The line above is from the chorus of one of my favorite Gaslight Anthem songs, Boxer. I remember singing it at home one day, and my husband shaking his head at first, saying he didn't get the lyrics. To me, they've always made perfect sense: through writing and music, I find a way to heal.
For as long as I can remember, when I've been upset or angry or depressed, I write. I think I got my first diary when I was in the fifth grade, a tiny, hardcover book with a real lock on it. I would hide the key in my jewelry box, tucked away under the felt so no one would ever find it. The thought of someone reading my most intimate thoughts scared the crap out of me. I was terrified of being teased even more relentlessly than I already was. Elementary school, and well, most of junior high, were not especially fun times.
As I grew older, I kept writing. My journal entries were sporadic, but whenever I was feeling frustrated or sad, getting words down on paper always made me feel better. I wrote terrible poems and long paragraphs of angsty stream-of-conscious thoughts, scribbling like a madwoman in a beat up notebook. Somewhere in my parents' house there are crates of notebooks full of stories and poems and probably a lot of really terrible writing. I couldn't bear to throw any of them away- each notebook represents a piece of me and who I was becoming.
Music became more and more important throughout high school, too. I loved punk rock; fast poppy songs by Bad Religion, Lagwagon, Pennywise, etc. Their songs were the perfect anthems to my crazy, confused life at the time. But I also found myself weeping to music from the Indigo Girls and Tori Amos. They inspired me to write better, to really try to create beautiful imagery and say what I wanted to say without flat-out saying it...if that makes sense.
My latest novel, Where We Fell (a real title!!), was inspired by two songs, both about wishing wells. The Airborne Toxic Event's Wishing Well is where I actually got the title from; it's a haunting song about feeling low and being full of regret. The other song that inspired me was A Silent Film's Danny, Dakota and the Wishing Well, a lovely song about being afraid to take a chance but then throwing caution to the wind to go after what you really want (Sidenote: these are my interpretations and how the songs make me feel. Music is so subjective, though, that someone else may get an entirely different feeling from these songs. Just sayin'.).
I understand that not everyone feels the same way about music that I do. Some people can listen to a song and not feel anything at all, even though they may appreciate the beat or the singer's voice. But I love being moved by a lyric, getting that ah-ha! moment when it seems like the band just gets me. Like they got inside my head and made sense of all my jumbled thoughts and came up with this beautiful song just for me, to make me feel better.
And I thank them for that, for giving me the words I can't find on my own sometimes.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Another teaser + ahh, the sweet smell of revisions!
Well, it's official. I've completed writing the first draft of my third full-length novel. It's crazy to think that just a few years ago, writing a book was just a lofty goal, a dream I had but didn't think I would ever accomplish. Now I've written three. Three!!
Granted, the first two didn't go anywhere. I like to think they were my "test" novels. They allowed me to work out some kinks, to try to find my voice and decide what kind of story I'd like to write. I think they both still have potential and have some very good pieces in them, and maybe someday I'll go back and start them over. But for now, it's time to move forward.
My third novel topped out at just over 75,000 words, which was my wordcount goal all along. Funny how that happens- I thought it might end earlier, around 70,000, but in the end, I needed to wrap up a few more things. Before I pass it off to my lovely readers, I have some revisions I know I want to add in first. I'm going to reread the whole thing and make the changes along the way, and then hand it off. I'm not so concerned with grammar and punctuation stuff just yet, though. I just want to make sure the story has all the elements I think it needs.
And so, I leave you with another snippet. I'm not gonna set this one up at all, so just read it and enjoy it. I mean, I hope you enjoy it...
And I wait.
Granted, the first two didn't go anywhere. I like to think they were my "test" novels. They allowed me to work out some kinks, to try to find my voice and decide what kind of story I'd like to write. I think they both still have potential and have some very good pieces in them, and maybe someday I'll go back and start them over. But for now, it's time to move forward.
My third novel topped out at just over 75,000 words, which was my wordcount goal all along. Funny how that happens- I thought it might end earlier, around 70,000, but in the end, I needed to wrap up a few more things. Before I pass it off to my lovely readers, I have some revisions I know I want to add in first. I'm going to reread the whole thing and make the changes along the way, and then hand it off. I'm not so concerned with grammar and punctuation stuff just yet, though. I just want to make sure the story has all the elements I think it needs.
And so, I leave you with another snippet. I'm not gonna set this one up at all, so just read it and enjoy it. I mean, I hope you enjoy it...
I settle down on the stiff grass in the small graveyard,
curling my feet under me. There doesn’t
seem to be anything to do but wait for Connor’s appearance. I find myself wishing the sun would come out;
it’s not that it’s cold here, but goose bumps spring up along my arms regardless. It’s like the grayness sinks under my skin
and chills me from the inside out.
I rest my chin on my hand and stare at the blank
headstone. Whose name will end up etched
into that granite? Shaking my head, I
decide it will not be Connor’s. I will
not allow that to happen.
My ears feel stuffed with cotton. Why are there no sounds here? True, there is no breeze either, but being so
close to these false woods I’d still expect to hear something coming from
them. Some sort of rustling in the brush
nearby or bird wings flapping above, something. The utter lack of movement makes it feel like
the minutes here are dragging by, like time itself has forgotten how to move
forward.
I wait.And I wait.
And I wait.
To pass the time, I braid and unbraid my hair. I lie down, but I’m afraid to close my eyes
in case I should miss Connor’s arrival.
I pace, first with my shoes on, then with them removed. The grass beneath my feet should feel sharp
and scratchy, but I barely feel it at all.
Along with my hearing, I feel my sense of touch also slipping away. I run my hand along the headstone and my
fingers are numb; I know I’m touching it but I don’t feel the coolness or the
smoothness of the granite. The longer I
wait, the more I’m filled with an odd peaceful feeling, like when you first
awaken from a good dream.
“Connor,” I whisper, looking up at the purple clouds rolling
through the sky. “Where are you?”
I can’t explain what happens, but I feel a gap in the
silence after I speak. There’s a rift in
this place, something unsettled in the stagnant air. I whirl around and see nothing, nothing but
the endless gray landscape.
My eyes close in despair and I sink back down into the
grass, pulling my legs into my chest and resting my forehead on my knees. Where is he? What if he doesn’t show up before Gabby calls
me back? What if I end up trapped here,
alone in this timeless, silent place?
What if I’m too late? What if, back home, Connor is already
dead?
I’m so tired of crying, but I can’t stop an icy tear from
slipping from my eye. The thought that
Connor might be dead fills me with horror, to think I might be missing any last
moments with him because I’m trapped here in the space between.
“What are you doing here?”
My head whips up. My
ears are ringing from the sudden disturbance in the silence, but I see no
one. Did I imagine that voice? That voice I know so well, the voice I hear
in my dreams?
“I said, what are you doing here?”
I couldn’t have imagined it twice. I get to my feet, shaking as I look
around. “Connor?” I say, my voice
nothing more than a shrill, tiny squeak.
As if conjured by his name, he materializes in front of me,
suddenly real and whole and here. He’s wearing his favorite worn-in jeans, the
ones I told him only a few weeks ago how much I love the way they hang on his hips, and
a charcoal gray t-shirt, the shirt I’ve stolen from his room countless
times. No matter how long it’s been
since he’s worn it, when I pull it on I feel his warmth and smell his soapy scent as
if he’d taken it off five minutes earlier.
His feet are bare; Connor loves being barefoot. He would walk around school barefoot in the
dead of winter if he was allowed. His
hair seems longer, although it’s only been a few days and there is no way his
hair could’ve grown in that time.
What strikes me the most are his eyes. Normally a sweet, chocolate brown, here they
seem muddy, almost black in color. They
are not his eyes.
“It’s you,” I breathe, taking a step closer despite the anxious feeling sliding down my spine at his eyes.
He holds his hands up in front of him, backing away. “How
did you get here?” he asks, his voice low and husky. And maybe…angry?
“Don't worry about that.
What’s important is I’m here, and I’m going to bring you back with me,”
I explain, trying to ignore his cold stare.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
I swallow hard. Gabby
said he wouldn’t want to leave, that I would have to convince him it was for
the best. But the way he’s looking at me
right now, almost like he’s filled with disgust at the sight of me, makes me
think this is going to be a much harder task than I ever imagined it would be.
“Connor, listen to me,” I plead. “I know what happened, um, was
terrible but-“
“Who are you?” he asks, cutting me off.
I blink in confusion.
“It’s me. Janie.”
He squints at me, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He shakes his head. “Sorry.
I don’t know anyone named Janie.”
My breath gets caught in my throat and I’m paralyzed with
fear. Of all the things I was expecting
him to say, denying that he even knows who I am was not one of them.
“Now if you excuse me, I have things to do,” he says, ice
dripping from his voice. “I don’t know how you got here, but I suggest you go
back the way you came.”
“Connor!” I cry,
panicked. “Wait! Please!”
I cannot let him walk away from me.
But walk away is exactly what he does, disappearing without
a backward glance my way.Thursday, March 7, 2013
Sharing is caring
Last night, I had one of those dreams that just stuck with me after my alarm rudely woke me up. I can't stop thinking about it even now.
I was in a class or some sort of writers' group, and everyone had to read the first page or two of their most recent work in progress. I was so excited to share mine, and I shuffled through my notebook to make a few revisions before it was my turn (sidenote: I have not handwritten a story in YEARS, but the one I was about to read from a battered, old notebook just like I wrote in in high school was my current WIP).
After listening to everyone's first pages, it was finally my turn. I opened my notebook and to my surprise and horror, my story was gone. It was like the pages got up and walked away. And I knew I had just looked at them moments earlier! I frantically leafed through every page in my notebook, searched my bag and the floor around me, but it had just disappeared.
And so, no one got to hear my story. And I was devastated.
So, what does this dream mean? Does it mean I should take better care of my WIP and how I share it with people? Or, maybe it means the thought of NOT being able to share my stories with people would be the worst thing ever. Hmm.
I have about two more chapters to write, by the way, until the first draft is complete. It's already over 71,000 words, so I'll have hit my word count goal and then some. Now just to tie up all the loose ends. In a way, finishing a first draft feels like saying goodbye to an old friend. I've spent so much time with this story that it's almost hard to end it all. What will I do with all my time now??
Well, revisions, of course. And eventually, start the next one. :o)
I was in a class or some sort of writers' group, and everyone had to read the first page or two of their most recent work in progress. I was so excited to share mine, and I shuffled through my notebook to make a few revisions before it was my turn (sidenote: I have not handwritten a story in YEARS, but the one I was about to read from a battered, old notebook just like I wrote in in high school was my current WIP).
After listening to everyone's first pages, it was finally my turn. I opened my notebook and to my surprise and horror, my story was gone. It was like the pages got up and walked away. And I knew I had just looked at them moments earlier! I frantically leafed through every page in my notebook, searched my bag and the floor around me, but it had just disappeared.
And so, no one got to hear my story. And I was devastated.
So, what does this dream mean? Does it mean I should take better care of my WIP and how I share it with people? Or, maybe it means the thought of NOT being able to share my stories with people would be the worst thing ever. Hmm.
I have about two more chapters to write, by the way, until the first draft is complete. It's already over 71,000 words, so I'll have hit my word count goal and then some. Now just to tie up all the loose ends. In a way, finishing a first draft feels like saying goodbye to an old friend. I've spent so much time with this story that it's almost hard to end it all. What will I do with all my time now??
Well, revisions, of course. And eventually, start the next one. :o)
Monday, February 25, 2013
Productivity at its finest
Last week, I got hit with a weird 24-hour flu type of thing. I say it was weird because I woke up Tuesday morning feeling completely fine, drove to work feeling fine, and then got to the office and immediately starting sneezing. At first I thought it was just an allergy attack of some sort, but it just wasn't calming down. I literally needed to shove tissues up my nose to keep it from dripping all over my desk. Gross, I know. So, I went home at lunchtime so I could sniffle away from the comfort of my couch. By late afternoon, I was achy and fevery. By nighttime I was worse, and slept on and off through the night thanks only to my sleepytime cold stuff.
Then I woke up Wednesday morning, groggy and achy, but the stuffiness was gone. This was the weirdest part. You see, when I get a cold, it inevitably turns into a sinus infection within a day or two. So being able to breathe the day after going through an entire box of tissues?? Insanity. By Wednesday afternoon I was thinking I probably could've made it into the office after all.
Maybe I just needed some down time, though. I haven't had a day off since Christmas (wahh, I know, it's only been two months) and I'm not gonna lie, it felt SO GOOD to just sit around and catch up on the DVR. I checked my work email and did a little writing, but for the most part I got to just relax. I had nowhere to go, nothing pressing to do, nothing needing cleaned, etc.
It felt glorious.
I have been noticing, however, that lately when I'm in a productive mood I am REALLY in a productive mood. Take yesterday, for example. I went grocery shopping, started dinner in the crockpot, cleaned the bathroom, dusted & vacuumed upstairs, hung some new wall stuff in the bedroom, did two loads of laundry (even putting the clothes away!), ironed two dresses and like 87 pairs of pants, wrote over 1100 words, made dinner, cleaned up the kitchen, etc etc etc. It was bananas. And it felt good.
The WIP is now officially alllllmost finished, thanks to said awesome productivity. I'm over 65,000 words, and I think it'll wrap up around 70k. There are some revisions I know I want to go back and add it right away, but then I'm gonna let it sit for a week, then read it once through without touching it. I haven't been going back to reread stuff much at all with this one, besides for some continuity purposes and to post snippets here. So I want to get a feel for the flow before giving the first draft to my readers. My ultimate goal is to have it finished and start querying again by late spring.
Making goals seems to be helping this one move along quickly, so I'm going to stick to that.
Happy Monday!
Then I woke up Wednesday morning, groggy and achy, but the stuffiness was gone. This was the weirdest part. You see, when I get a cold, it inevitably turns into a sinus infection within a day or two. So being able to breathe the day after going through an entire box of tissues?? Insanity. By Wednesday afternoon I was thinking I probably could've made it into the office after all.
Maybe I just needed some down time, though. I haven't had a day off since Christmas (wahh, I know, it's only been two months) and I'm not gonna lie, it felt SO GOOD to just sit around and catch up on the DVR. I checked my work email and did a little writing, but for the most part I got to just relax. I had nowhere to go, nothing pressing to do, nothing needing cleaned, etc.
It felt glorious.
I have been noticing, however, that lately when I'm in a productive mood I am REALLY in a productive mood. Take yesterday, for example. I went grocery shopping, started dinner in the crockpot, cleaned the bathroom, dusted & vacuumed upstairs, hung some new wall stuff in the bedroom, did two loads of laundry (even putting the clothes away!), ironed two dresses and like 87 pairs of pants, wrote over 1100 words, made dinner, cleaned up the kitchen, etc etc etc. It was bananas. And it felt good.
The WIP is now officially alllllmost finished, thanks to said awesome productivity. I'm over 65,000 words, and I think it'll wrap up around 70k. There are some revisions I know I want to go back and add it right away, but then I'm gonna let it sit for a week, then read it once through without touching it. I haven't been going back to reread stuff much at all with this one, besides for some continuity purposes and to post snippets here. So I want to get a feel for the flow before giving the first draft to my readers. My ultimate goal is to have it finished and start querying again by late spring.
Making goals seems to be helping this one move along quickly, so I'm going to stick to that.
Happy Monday!
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Wake me when it's spring
I might not be sleeping through this winter, but if I had my choice I probably would. It's been a weird mix of freezing, frigid cold temperatures and somewhat lovely days, fooling me into thinking spring is just around the corner. I suppose it's not that far off anymore...I always feel like February is truly the last winter month. March brings the promise of spring- fresh air, new life, melting snow...
I feel like I haven't been doing that much socially these days, and I'm actually okay with that. I've had plans here and there, but this time of year I'd much rather hole up in the warmth of my house. And because of this, I've been getting in some phenomenal writing time. Every time I sit down to write for an hour I get more than 1000 words down, almost every time. I swear this story is practically writing itself. The WIP is now over 57,000 words, which means I'm in the home stretch, for real. There's a strong chance I really will finish it by the end of this month.
*pauses to do happy dance*
It's been a while since I shared a snippet, so here you go. As a little set up, this is a quick flashback scene, before Jane and Connor were a couple, leading back to the present tense. Questions, comments, concerns are welcome as always.
To my surprise, unlike so many of Colin's parties, the night was not a total disaster. It was a laid back sort of event, no stupid dares or drinking games or craziness. We sat around the fire and drank a couple beers Colin’s friends offered us- Connor and I hadn’t had a way to purchase our own, obviously- and roasted marshmallows from an economy-sized bag someone had brought. Colin and his friends tried to top each other with the scariest ghost story, and I’d brought up Gabby and the wishkeeper legend. Everyone but Connor knew of her story, at least bits and pieces of it, so we filled him in on all the details. I remember how he’d turned and stared at the well, thoughtful for a moment until the wind picked up and sent a foul-smelling gust our way. It was like sulfur mixed with rotten fruit and smelly feet all wrapped up together. We all wrinkled our noses, pinched them with our fingers or tried to hide them in our t-shirts to avoid it.
“That must be a miserable existence,” Connor said, waving his hand in front of his face. “That poor ghost.”
“Her story is really so sad. I think she slipped,” I said, grabbing another marshmallow. “Because one whiff of that and there’s no way she would’ve be able to throw herself in there willingly.”
“That makes sense,” Connor agreed. “As far as why she’d stick around here for all eternity, I mean. Although either way, I guess, she’d probably be forced to stay here.”
I’d looked back at the well myself at that point and wondered if Gabby was there, listening to our conversation. I saw a shadow drift past the well and my eyes widened, but the more I stared the more I was convinced it must have been the tall grass rustling in the breeze. The darkness beyond the glow of the fire made it easy for my eyes to play tricks on me.
“It’s not always so bad here, though. Sometimes you can’t smell that well at all,” Colin chimed in. “I think my dad wants to keep it as some sort of historical landmark.” He’d shrugged, and then the topic had changed abruptly to summer vacations.
As the night wore on, I remember feeling hyper-aware of Connor next to me. The stars seemed brighter in the sky, and the fire seemed to grow warmer instead of cooler as it died. Our chairs were near enough that our elbows kept touching, and each time they did a small bolt of electricity surged through me. If I had been looking at our arms, I surely would’ve seen tiny sparks flickering in between them.
Back in the present, the crow from yesterday has returned. He startles me out of my thoughts, screeching at me from his perch in the treetops.
“Gabby,” I whisper. “Please help me.”
The crow caws in response; two sharp, quick shrieks that make me wince. I pull my legs in against my chest and lay my forehead on my knees, ignoring the sweat immediately gathering in the creases behind my knees. I’m exhausted, weariness weighing over me like a thick wool blanket. Despite the stifling heat, I drift off to sleep in the shade of the wishing well.
I can’t have been out for more than five or ten minutes when I sense someone looming over me. I raise my head, expecting Rina to be standing there with her hands on her hips, her head shaking slowly as she finds me once again in this field all alone.
But it’s not Rina. It’s Gabby. In her hands she holds my necklace by its chain and the pendant sways back and forth in front of my face, hypnotizing me.
“I believe you dropped something,” she said, a severe frown distorting her lips.
I feel like I haven't been doing that much socially these days, and I'm actually okay with that. I've had plans here and there, but this time of year I'd much rather hole up in the warmth of my house. And because of this, I've been getting in some phenomenal writing time. Every time I sit down to write for an hour I get more than 1000 words down, almost every time. I swear this story is practically writing itself. The WIP is now over 57,000 words, which means I'm in the home stretch, for real. There's a strong chance I really will finish it by the end of this month.
*pauses to do happy dance*
It's been a while since I shared a snippet, so here you go. As a little set up, this is a quick flashback scene, before Jane and Connor were a couple, leading back to the present tense. Questions, comments, concerns are welcome as always.
To my surprise, unlike so many of Colin's parties, the night was not a total disaster. It was a laid back sort of event, no stupid dares or drinking games or craziness. We sat around the fire and drank a couple beers Colin’s friends offered us- Connor and I hadn’t had a way to purchase our own, obviously- and roasted marshmallows from an economy-sized bag someone had brought. Colin and his friends tried to top each other with the scariest ghost story, and I’d brought up Gabby and the wishkeeper legend. Everyone but Connor knew of her story, at least bits and pieces of it, so we filled him in on all the details. I remember how he’d turned and stared at the well, thoughtful for a moment until the wind picked up and sent a foul-smelling gust our way. It was like sulfur mixed with rotten fruit and smelly feet all wrapped up together. We all wrinkled our noses, pinched them with our fingers or tried to hide them in our t-shirts to avoid it.
“That must be a miserable existence,” Connor said, waving his hand in front of his face. “That poor ghost.”
“Her story is really so sad. I think she slipped,” I said, grabbing another marshmallow. “Because one whiff of that and there’s no way she would’ve be able to throw herself in there willingly.”
“That makes sense,” Connor agreed. “As far as why she’d stick around here for all eternity, I mean. Although either way, I guess, she’d probably be forced to stay here.”
I’d looked back at the well myself at that point and wondered if Gabby was there, listening to our conversation. I saw a shadow drift past the well and my eyes widened, but the more I stared the more I was convinced it must have been the tall grass rustling in the breeze. The darkness beyond the glow of the fire made it easy for my eyes to play tricks on me.
“It’s not always so bad here, though. Sometimes you can’t smell that well at all,” Colin chimed in. “I think my dad wants to keep it as some sort of historical landmark.” He’d shrugged, and then the topic had changed abruptly to summer vacations.
As the night wore on, I remember feeling hyper-aware of Connor next to me. The stars seemed brighter in the sky, and the fire seemed to grow warmer instead of cooler as it died. Our chairs were near enough that our elbows kept touching, and each time they did a small bolt of electricity surged through me. If I had been looking at our arms, I surely would’ve seen tiny sparks flickering in between them.
Back in the present, the crow from yesterday has returned. He startles me out of my thoughts, screeching at me from his perch in the treetops.
“Gabby,” I whisper. “Please help me.”
The crow caws in response; two sharp, quick shrieks that make me wince. I pull my legs in against my chest and lay my forehead on my knees, ignoring the sweat immediately gathering in the creases behind my knees. I’m exhausted, weariness weighing over me like a thick wool blanket. Despite the stifling heat, I drift off to sleep in the shade of the wishing well.
I can’t have been out for more than five or ten minutes when I sense someone looming over me. I raise my head, expecting Rina to be standing there with her hands on her hips, her head shaking slowly as she finds me once again in this field all alone.
But it’s not Rina. It’s Gabby. In her hands she holds my necklace by its chain and the pendant sways back and forth in front of my face, hypnotizing me.
“I believe you dropped something,” she said, a severe frown distorting her lips.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Work it, girl, work it
Since my last post, I think I've added about 6000 words to my WIP. I'm totally guessing, but I think that sounds about right. I'm very happy about that, and I'm very happy about how well I've been sticking to my new routine.
If you recall my last post, I mentioned that I was going to try to get back to writing 2-3 days a week and working out the same amount of days. I'm happy to report that in these first 3 weeks of the new year, I've been sticking to that. I've been really good about squeezing in an hour of writing time a couple weeknights and then more time on the weekends. It's paying off- I can feel the story starting to wrap itself up. I'm over 46,000 words as of last night, so while I'm not exactly in the home stretch yet, I'm well over halfway done.
As far as exercising, well, I'm keeping up with that too. Even when I don't feel like working out, like yesterday for example. I'd gotten my allergy injections at lunch time (on month 6 of those, only 6 months more to go!), and my left arm had a bad reaction to the shot. It blew up around the injection site and was incredibly itchy for hours. Then I started to feel achy. Sometimes that happens when they up my dosage, I think. Anyway, the point is, even feeling like poo, I forced myself to hit the elliptical for 35 minutes after work anyway. I ended up burning off my entire lunch and the granola bar I'd eaten as a snack. By the time I was done, I was a sweaty mess (as per usual- I sweat like no one's business), but I felt so much better! Who woulda thought?
I'm also trying to watch what I eat during the week. For someone who has a HUGE sweet tooth and loves junk food, this is not so easy. But I'm doing it. I'm eating low calorie lunches and my snacking usually consists of veggies & a little dip or some fruit, no chips or chocolate or random junk. I'm trying not to get obsessive over it, though. Because I can totally be obsessive about food these days. It really is easy to do once you start learning the nutritional information of what you're putting in your body. How many calories one tiny bag of Cheetos has or one miniscule piece of chocolate. It adds up SO fast. And then I start panicking, knowing I'm going way over my calorie goal and there's no way I can burn it all off, etc, etc.
But I'm not trying to lose weight quickly or anything. Just trying to be healthier. And if I want a giant burrito from Qdoba once in a while, that's okay too. It's good to reward yourself now and then for reaching your goals. Or so I tell myself...
If you recall my last post, I mentioned that I was going to try to get back to writing 2-3 days a week and working out the same amount of days. I'm happy to report that in these first 3 weeks of the new year, I've been sticking to that. I've been really good about squeezing in an hour of writing time a couple weeknights and then more time on the weekends. It's paying off- I can feel the story starting to wrap itself up. I'm over 46,000 words as of last night, so while I'm not exactly in the home stretch yet, I'm well over halfway done.
As far as exercising, well, I'm keeping up with that too. Even when I don't feel like working out, like yesterday for example. I'd gotten my allergy injections at lunch time (on month 6 of those, only 6 months more to go!), and my left arm had a bad reaction to the shot. It blew up around the injection site and was incredibly itchy for hours. Then I started to feel achy. Sometimes that happens when they up my dosage, I think. Anyway, the point is, even feeling like poo, I forced myself to hit the elliptical for 35 minutes after work anyway. I ended up burning off my entire lunch and the granola bar I'd eaten as a snack. By the time I was done, I was a sweaty mess (as per usual- I sweat like no one's business), but I felt so much better! Who woulda thought?
I'm also trying to watch what I eat during the week. For someone who has a HUGE sweet tooth and loves junk food, this is not so easy. But I'm doing it. I'm eating low calorie lunches and my snacking usually consists of veggies & a little dip or some fruit, no chips or chocolate or random junk. I'm trying not to get obsessive over it, though. Because I can totally be obsessive about food these days. It really is easy to do once you start learning the nutritional information of what you're putting in your body. How many calories one tiny bag of Cheetos has or one miniscule piece of chocolate. It adds up SO fast. And then I start panicking, knowing I'm going way over my calorie goal and there's no way I can burn it all off, etc, etc.
But I'm not trying to lose weight quickly or anything. Just trying to be healthier. And if I want a giant burrito from Qdoba once in a while, that's okay too. It's good to reward yourself now and then for reaching your goals. Or so I tell myself...
Friday, January 4, 2013
S.A.D.
With the insanity of the holidays over, we now enter that time of year in which I tend to go in to Hibernation Mode. If I could remain in pajamas and not have to leave my house- like, ever- I would be completely fine with that.
Sometimes I think I have a hint of Seasonal Affective Disorder. You know, that depression that hits mainly in the winter months due to lack of sun. Most of the symptoms ring true for me- less energy & ability to concentrate, loss of interest in work and other activities, social withdrawl, weight gain, feeling sluggish, etc.
To combat it this year, I'm trying to force myself to stick to a strict routine that mainly involves working out at least 2-3 days a week. I figure the more active I am, the better I'll feel, right?
Of course, today I woke up feeling achy with a sore throat, so I'm not sure I'll be up for the gym tonight. Sigh. Already with the excuses.
Anyway, along with taking care of myself physically, I'm also going to start my writing routine back up- at least two week nights and Sundays. While I was on break from work last week, I wrote shockingly little. Like, so little that I'm somewhat disgusted with myself. I had no motivation whatsoever to do anything. Not only had I planned on getting in some good writing time, I had a bunch of little projects I wanted to do around the house, like cleaning out my desk and the junk drawer in the kitchen, weeding through closets, etc.
I did none of that.
I pretty much stared at the TV watching nothing but garbage (literally, one day I watched a Hoarding: Buried Alive marathon). I did at least manage to read a little, but even that seemed to take more brain power than I had available.
Maybe I just needed some good down time, a break from EVERYTHING, but I'm not usually such a slug like that. This is also why I think SAD may be playing a part. There's always such a big build up to the holidays, and then it's just...over. The presents are unwrapped, the cookies all eaten, the shiny decorations hidden away for another year. And there's nothing to look forward to but dark, cold days and nights for the next three months.
But it's important to me to finish writing this book, this third book that could be "the one". And it's important to me to start querying again, to put myself out there and see what might come of it. This is my dream. And I'm not going to let winter's winds knock it out of my hands.
Sometimes I think I have a hint of Seasonal Affective Disorder. You know, that depression that hits mainly in the winter months due to lack of sun. Most of the symptoms ring true for me- less energy & ability to concentrate, loss of interest in work and other activities, social withdrawl, weight gain, feeling sluggish, etc.
To combat it this year, I'm trying to force myself to stick to a strict routine that mainly involves working out at least 2-3 days a week. I figure the more active I am, the better I'll feel, right?
Of course, today I woke up feeling achy with a sore throat, so I'm not sure I'll be up for the gym tonight. Sigh. Already with the excuses.
Anyway, along with taking care of myself physically, I'm also going to start my writing routine back up- at least two week nights and Sundays. While I was on break from work last week, I wrote shockingly little. Like, so little that I'm somewhat disgusted with myself. I had no motivation whatsoever to do anything. Not only had I planned on getting in some good writing time, I had a bunch of little projects I wanted to do around the house, like cleaning out my desk and the junk drawer in the kitchen, weeding through closets, etc.
I did none of that.
I pretty much stared at the TV watching nothing but garbage (literally, one day I watched a Hoarding: Buried Alive marathon). I did at least manage to read a little, but even that seemed to take more brain power than I had available.
Maybe I just needed some good down time, a break from EVERYTHING, but I'm not usually such a slug like that. This is also why I think SAD may be playing a part. There's always such a big build up to the holidays, and then it's just...over. The presents are unwrapped, the cookies all eaten, the shiny decorations hidden away for another year. And there's nothing to look forward to but dark, cold days and nights for the next three months.
But it's important to me to finish writing this book, this third book that could be "the one". And it's important to me to start querying again, to put myself out there and see what might come of it. This is my dream. And I'm not going to let winter's winds knock it out of my hands.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Year in Review
Holy crap you guys, the world might end tomorrow and I haven't blogged since the end of November! Zoiks!
This time of the year is always crazy, and I have four days in a row of holiday fun coming up after tomorrow. So, these past few weeks have been spent shopping, wrapping, baking, and shopping and wrapping some more. As of last night I am officially DONE though. With 5 days to spare til Christmas. Not bad, not bad.
Since I'm all caught up on everything else, I thought I'd take a minute to sit back and reflect on the past year. 2012 was a whirlwind that completely flew by, so here are a few of my favorite things:
1) Concerts: As usual, I went to a lot of shows. The biggest show I saw was probably The Black Keys- I don't go to too many arena shows, and they totally rocked the house. I also got to see my favorite, the Airborne Toxic Event, in Columbus again. I will go see them every time they are within a tri-state radius, that's how amazing they are. For a "small" show, Unwritten Law at the Grog Shop was my other favorite of the year.
2) Books: You guys do know I'm a huge book nerd, right? My Goodreads goal for the year was 75 books, and by the end of next week I'll have topped out around 65. A few books shy of my goal, yes, but I also do have a full time job and a bit of a social life, so I think 65 is pretty respectable. Anyway, so picking a favorite book of 2012 is not so easy, but if I HAD to choose, the Fault in our Stars by John Green is probably number one (duh. I've probably raved about it on this blog at least ten times over the year). However, I read a TON of good books- but not all of them were published in 2012, so do they count? I'm gonna say yes. So, my other favorites from this year are:
3) Movies: Favorite movie of 2012 had to be The Hunger Games- no big surprise that my favorite movie of the year is based on a book, right? It was the best book-to-movie adaptation I've ever seen. Even though I'd read the books and knew what was going to happen I was still on the edge of my seat the entire movie.
4) Travel: Good god, I traveled a lot this year. Almost all of it was for work, but it still sort of counts, right? Let's see, starting from the beginning of the year I went to Chicago, Toronto, Charlotte, and Spokane- those were all work-related. And I've learned I'm still not a very good traveler. I'm too nervous, too afraid of being late, too scared of getting trapped by security and I hate the takeoffs and landings.
Dan and I also got to head back down to the Outer Banks with my family this year after skipping it last year due to Dan's new job. The ride down overnight was one of the worst drives I think we've ever experienced. It just took for-ev-er due to a lot of crappy rain. But the vacation itself was wonderful. I came home happy, tan and relaxed. And about five pounds heavier.
5) Memorable moments: Probably one of the saddest moments of the year came when I had to make the decision to put my sweet little ginger cat, Ollie, to sleep. Even though he'd been sick on and off for several months, nothing really prepares you for a loss of that nature. And I personally never had been through anything like that before. He was my first "real" pet. I still miss that little stinker- I probably always will.
But out of that sadness came the new love of my life, my crazy kitten Gus. He hasn't replaced Ollie, just filled the hole he left behind. And I thank my lucky stars every day that I found him. He's the funniest, silliest, sweetest, and SMARTEST cat I have ever known. He's also strong and healthy, with none of the issues Ollie suffered from. I look forward to him being around for a long, long time, playing fetch and giving me paw and busting in on me in the bathroom for many days to come.
I think I'll end this here, on a good note. All that said, I'm looking forward to 2013 and all that it will bring. More music, books, movies, trips, and memorable moments loom ahead. Such is life.
Happy Holidays, everyone!
This time of the year is always crazy, and I have four days in a row of holiday fun coming up after tomorrow. So, these past few weeks have been spent shopping, wrapping, baking, and shopping and wrapping some more. As of last night I am officially DONE though. With 5 days to spare til Christmas. Not bad, not bad.
Since I'm all caught up on everything else, I thought I'd take a minute to sit back and reflect on the past year. 2012 was a whirlwind that completely flew by, so here are a few of my favorite things:
1) Concerts: As usual, I went to a lot of shows. The biggest show I saw was probably The Black Keys- I don't go to too many arena shows, and they totally rocked the house. I also got to see my favorite, the Airborne Toxic Event, in Columbus again. I will go see them every time they are within a tri-state radius, that's how amazing they are. For a "small" show, Unwritten Law at the Grog Shop was my other favorite of the year.
2) Books: You guys do know I'm a huge book nerd, right? My Goodreads goal for the year was 75 books, and by the end of next week I'll have topped out around 65. A few books shy of my goal, yes, but I also do have a full time job and a bit of a social life, so I think 65 is pretty respectable. Anyway, so picking a favorite book of 2012 is not so easy, but if I HAD to choose, the Fault in our Stars by John Green is probably number one (duh. I've probably raved about it on this blog at least ten times over the year). However, I read a TON of good books- but not all of them were published in 2012, so do they count? I'm gonna say yes. So, my other favorites from this year are:
- The Graceling series by Kristin Cashore
- The Chaos Walking series by Patrick Ness
- Insurgent by Veronica Roth
- Delirium and Pandemonium by Lauren Oliver
- The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater
- The Piper's Son by Melina Marchetta
- The Wednesday Wars by Gary Schmidt
- The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
- Days of Blood and Starlight by Laini Taylor
3) Movies: Favorite movie of 2012 had to be The Hunger Games- no big surprise that my favorite movie of the year is based on a book, right? It was the best book-to-movie adaptation I've ever seen. Even though I'd read the books and knew what was going to happen I was still on the edge of my seat the entire movie.
4) Travel: Good god, I traveled a lot this year. Almost all of it was for work, but it still sort of counts, right? Let's see, starting from the beginning of the year I went to Chicago, Toronto, Charlotte, and Spokane- those were all work-related. And I've learned I'm still not a very good traveler. I'm too nervous, too afraid of being late, too scared of getting trapped by security and I hate the takeoffs and landings.
Dan and I also got to head back down to the Outer Banks with my family this year after skipping it last year due to Dan's new job. The ride down overnight was one of the worst drives I think we've ever experienced. It just took for-ev-er due to a lot of crappy rain. But the vacation itself was wonderful. I came home happy, tan and relaxed. And about five pounds heavier.
5) Memorable moments: Probably one of the saddest moments of the year came when I had to make the decision to put my sweet little ginger cat, Ollie, to sleep. Even though he'd been sick on and off for several months, nothing really prepares you for a loss of that nature. And I personally never had been through anything like that before. He was my first "real" pet. I still miss that little stinker- I probably always will.
But out of that sadness came the new love of my life, my crazy kitten Gus. He hasn't replaced Ollie, just filled the hole he left behind. And I thank my lucky stars every day that I found him. He's the funniest, silliest, sweetest, and SMARTEST cat I have ever known. He's also strong and healthy, with none of the issues Ollie suffered from. I look forward to him being around for a long, long time, playing fetch and giving me paw and busting in on me in the bathroom for many days to come.
I think I'll end this here, on a good note. All that said, I'm looking forward to 2013 and all that it will bring. More music, books, movies, trips, and memorable moments loom ahead. Such is life.
Happy Holidays, everyone!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
The Tally
I realize November still has two more days til it's over, but as far as my little NaNo deadline of hitting 40,000 words by the end of the month goes, it was pretty much over last night. Too much running around to do tonight (it IS Thursday afer all, and we all know that means TVD night) and tomorrow I'll be Christmas shopping all day long with my mom and then heading to dinner with my eastside girls in the evening, which means I won't get home til late and I will be physically and mentally exhausted. Which means the next time I'll get to write will be Saturday or Sunday, and then it's already December. Agh.
Anyway, yes, I know my original goal was 41,000 words, which meant I had to write 25,000 words, but somewhere along the way I changed it to an even 40k. Just had a better ring to it. Nevermind that I was cutting 1000 words. Nevermind that at all. Ahem.
Did I hit that goal? Welllllll...ok, no. No I did not.
But I'm okay with that. The reason being is my total is now just under 37,000 words, so in just a little over three weeks I wrote a good 20,000 words! I mean, that's actually pretty amazing when you take into consideration that I was only writing about 3-4 days a week, for about an hour or two each time I sat down with my laptop. And at 37,000 words, my story is now officially at least half over. I'll be very happy if I end up with 70,000 words with this one.
Clearly, I work better under deadlines. Even self-imposed ones.
So let's see, if I managed 20,000 words in about 3 weeks, I should be about to write 25,000 in 4 weeks. That means if I stick with this pace, I should be done with the first draft by mid-January. Since things are going to get a little crazy with the holidays coming up, my goal to finish the book for real will be February.
For now, off to my readers it goes. I'm dying for some feedback!!
Anyway, yes, I know my original goal was 41,000 words, which meant I had to write 25,000 words, but somewhere along the way I changed it to an even 40k. Just had a better ring to it. Nevermind that I was cutting 1000 words. Nevermind that at all. Ahem.
Did I hit that goal? Welllllll...ok, no. No I did not.
But I'm okay with that. The reason being is my total is now just under 37,000 words, so in just a little over three weeks I wrote a good 20,000 words! I mean, that's actually pretty amazing when you take into consideration that I was only writing about 3-4 days a week, for about an hour or two each time I sat down with my laptop. And at 37,000 words, my story is now officially at least half over. I'll be very happy if I end up with 70,000 words with this one.
Clearly, I work better under deadlines. Even self-imposed ones.
So let's see, if I managed 20,000 words in about 3 weeks, I should be about to write 25,000 in 4 weeks. That means if I stick with this pace, I should be done with the first draft by mid-January. Since things are going to get a little crazy with the holidays coming up, my goal to finish the book for real will be February.
For now, off to my readers it goes. I'm dying for some feedback!!
Monday, November 19, 2012
Progress!
Oh hey, how are you? I know, it's been a couple weeks since I've been here. Sorry. I've been busy, you know, kicking some major ass on the WIP instead.
No, really! After I realized I'd need to write at least 1000 words every day in order to reach 40k by the end of November, it sort of kicked me in the head and got me going. While I'm still not certain I'll be able to truly reach my goal, I can proudly say I'm giving it pretty much everything I've got. I'm happy to report that I'm already close to 27,000 words, which means I've only got about 13,000 more to go in 12 days. I'm pretty sure that means I've cranked out at least 10,000 words since I set this goal for myself. Yay, me.
Writing 1000 words takes me about an hour, give or take. Now, some days I don't have an hour to crack open the laptop and write, and therein lies the dilemma. So, I'm trying to write even more than 1000 words when I do have time to sit down and write. It's actually been somewhat easy to do that. I'm not sure if the way I'm writing this one is making it easier; I mentioned before that I'm not following a strict timeline, just writing snippets of certain times in the characters' lives and then going back to the present. I think I might end up putting the snippets all together so it's a consecutive story, instead of all the back and forth stuff, but I'll first throw it out to my readers as is and see what they think.
So that's helping, but what's also helping is the fact that I just sort of love this story. It's spooky, it's sappy, it's fun, and it's also sorta heartwarming. What would you do to bring the love of your life back to you?
I've also been considering looking into some freelance writing jobs. I could use the extra cash, and I might as well get it by doing something I love. I just have no idea where to begin looking or how to get started, so research will be involved. Sigh.
Anyway, Black Friday for me will be spent not getting trampled in stores, but holed up in my house with my laptop on my couch. I declare it Writing Day and I hope to bust out like 5000 words that day. We shall see!
No, really! After I realized I'd need to write at least 1000 words every day in order to reach 40k by the end of November, it sort of kicked me in the head and got me going. While I'm still not certain I'll be able to truly reach my goal, I can proudly say I'm giving it pretty much everything I've got. I'm happy to report that I'm already close to 27,000 words, which means I've only got about 13,000 more to go in 12 days. I'm pretty sure that means I've cranked out at least 10,000 words since I set this goal for myself. Yay, me.
Writing 1000 words takes me about an hour, give or take. Now, some days I don't have an hour to crack open the laptop and write, and therein lies the dilemma. So, I'm trying to write even more than 1000 words when I do have time to sit down and write. It's actually been somewhat easy to do that. I'm not sure if the way I'm writing this one is making it easier; I mentioned before that I'm not following a strict timeline, just writing snippets of certain times in the characters' lives and then going back to the present. I think I might end up putting the snippets all together so it's a consecutive story, instead of all the back and forth stuff, but I'll first throw it out to my readers as is and see what they think.
So that's helping, but what's also helping is the fact that I just sort of love this story. It's spooky, it's sappy, it's fun, and it's also sorta heartwarming. What would you do to bring the love of your life back to you?
I've also been considering looking into some freelance writing jobs. I could use the extra cash, and I might as well get it by doing something I love. I just have no idea where to begin looking or how to get started, so research will be involved. Sigh.
Anyway, Black Friday for me will be spent not getting trampled in stores, but holed up in my house with my laptop on my couch. I declare it Writing Day and I hope to bust out like 5000 words that day. We shall see!
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Up All Night
Cuz we're all right
We're up all night
To see the sun come up again now...
Dan and I went to see one of our favorite bands at the Grog Shop last night- Unwritten Law, and my ears are still ringing, eight hours later. We actually danced our first dance at our wedding to one of their songs- a pretty, slowed-down piano version of "The Rest of My Life". They did not play that song last night, but then, I wasn't really expecting them to.
The show reminded me of my old days of going to see bands play, sometimes a couple times a month. I used to LOVE going to the old Grog Shop back in the days before it moved- even though the bathrooms there were thoroughly disgusting and the doll heads hanging from the ceiling always freaked me out. There's just nothing like seeing a band you admire up close and personal in a small club. And UL totally rocked it last night, regardless of the fact that I'm pretty certain they were all wa-hay-sted by the time they took the stage (which was around 9:30).
Is it totally sad that I was almost weeping with joy when we found out they were playing 3rd and not 4th out of 4 bands? The fact that I was SO HAPPY that I'd be home before one am on a school night might be just a little depressing. But hey, I'm not 21 anymore. I cannot stay up all night when I have to be at work at 7:30. Just the way it is. Meh.
I'll leave you with a few pretty lyrics from our wedding song, even though they did not play it last night. It was still a great show.
I know, I'm so slow
But I'm tryin'
And I'm still dyin' to know
Say you won't leave for the rest of my life
We're up all night
To see the sun come up again now...
Dan and I went to see one of our favorite bands at the Grog Shop last night- Unwritten Law, and my ears are still ringing, eight hours later. We actually danced our first dance at our wedding to one of their songs- a pretty, slowed-down piano version of "The Rest of My Life". They did not play that song last night, but then, I wasn't really expecting them to.
The show reminded me of my old days of going to see bands play, sometimes a couple times a month. I used to LOVE going to the old Grog Shop back in the days before it moved- even though the bathrooms there were thoroughly disgusting and the doll heads hanging from the ceiling always freaked me out. There's just nothing like seeing a band you admire up close and personal in a small club. And UL totally rocked it last night, regardless of the fact that I'm pretty certain they were all wa-hay-sted by the time they took the stage (which was around 9:30).
Is it totally sad that I was almost weeping with joy when we found out they were playing 3rd and not 4th out of 4 bands? The fact that I was SO HAPPY that I'd be home before one am on a school night might be just a little depressing. But hey, I'm not 21 anymore. I cannot stay up all night when I have to be at work at 7:30. Just the way it is. Meh.
I'll leave you with a few pretty lyrics from our wedding song, even though they did not play it last night. It was still a great show.
I know, I'm so slow
But I'm tryin'
And I'm still dyin' to know
Say you won't leave for the rest of my life
(photo by Dan)
Friday, November 2, 2012
NaNoWriMo...uh oh
Ok, wait a minute...it's November already? I blinked and October was over! I think I say this every year, but 2012 seriously has been the fastest year EVER. Geez.
Anyway, so it's November, and November means it's NaNoWriMo time! NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month, kids. The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel between November 1st and November 30th, and you can't cheat by using any of your previous work- it has to be a fresh, new novel. Which means I can't enter using my current WIP, which is over 16,000 words now. And it'd really be cheating, considering I've been working on it for several months now.
Several months, and I'm only at 16k. Ugh. The progress I feel I've been making lately suddenly seems much, much less impressive. Sad face.
Part of me wants to try NaNo one of these days. 50,000 words in 30 days? Pssshh. No big deal.
Right.
The main problem is every time November rolls around (ok, well, these past three years when I've been really trying to write something worthwhile) I'm engrossed in something I already started. I don't think it would make much sense for me to stop working on the WIP, just to try to create some super crappy first draft of another book.
That said, I WILL use November as a month to be super motivated about writing. Maybe I can get 50,000 words down in the WIP- which would make it almost finished. My goal is usually around 70k for a completed story.
Ok though, let's be honest here. 50k ain't happening. I just don't have it in me to write so quickly. I will be a bit more realistic and set my goal at 25k. That sounds much more reasonable. So, by November 30th, I need to have a total of around 41,000 words written in the WIP.
I can totally do it.
To anyone out there participating in NaNoWriMo this month, good luck, and happy writing!!
Anyway, so it's November, and November means it's NaNoWriMo time! NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month, kids. The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel between November 1st and November 30th, and you can't cheat by using any of your previous work- it has to be a fresh, new novel. Which means I can't enter using my current WIP, which is over 16,000 words now. And it'd really be cheating, considering I've been working on it for several months now.
Several months, and I'm only at 16k. Ugh. The progress I feel I've been making lately suddenly seems much, much less impressive. Sad face.
Part of me wants to try NaNo one of these days. 50,000 words in 30 days? Pssshh. No big deal.
Right.
The main problem is every time November rolls around (ok, well, these past three years when I've been really trying to write something worthwhile) I'm engrossed in something I already started. I don't think it would make much sense for me to stop working on the WIP, just to try to create some super crappy first draft of another book.
That said, I WILL use November as a month to be super motivated about writing. Maybe I can get 50,000 words down in the WIP- which would make it almost finished. My goal is usually around 70k for a completed story.
Ok though, let's be honest here. 50k ain't happening. I just don't have it in me to write so quickly. I will be a bit more realistic and set my goal at 25k. That sounds much more reasonable. So, by November 30th, I need to have a total of around 41,000 words written in the WIP.
I can totally do it.
To anyone out there participating in NaNoWriMo this month, good luck, and happy writing!!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
read it yourself
As everyone knows, I love to read. I tend to read at least one book a week, and I wish I had time to fit in more than that. But you know, I have to eat. And drink wine with friends.
And as everyone also knows, I love to write. Whether I'm actually any good at it or not, well, that's neither here nor there, really. All I know is I have words in my head that have to get out, so I let them out.
But you know what I don't love? Trying to tell someone WHY I loved a particular book. Like, writing a book review. I've often thought that maybe I should start reviewing some of my favorite books on this here blog, but then I start trying to form words to describe why I loved Jellicoe Road or The Fault in our Stars or The Scorpio Races, and I come up with nada. I stutter like a fool and end up babbling something like, "OMG it's just soooo good, you have to read it."
For instance, right now I'm reading an awesome book called Graceling by Kristin Cashore. Last night, I was trying to explain to my husband what it was about as I downloaded the second book in the series from the library. I'm like 250 pages in (out of 300, so almost done) and here's what I came up with:
"It's about this girl, who has two different colored eyes and has a special talent or 'grace' of killing people, cuz all people with two different colored eyes have different talents like that, and there are seven kingdoms, and it's sorta Lords of the Rings-ish, and there's a bad king who controls people just by speaking, he can like, change their thoughts, and the girl and this boy, who is also graced with fighting and the king's power doesn't work on him, rescue the little princess and have to take her away from the bad king guy..."
And it just sort of pilfered out after that.
See what I mean? Now, I'm sure if I actually sat down and gathered my thoughts I could write something that made a bit more sense than that. I just don't have the desire to. Is it because I've taken in so much of the story that I hate letting it back out? Hmm. Possible.
Seriously, though, go read all those books I mentioned here.
And as everyone also knows, I love to write. Whether I'm actually any good at it or not, well, that's neither here nor there, really. All I know is I have words in my head that have to get out, so I let them out.
But you know what I don't love? Trying to tell someone WHY I loved a particular book. Like, writing a book review. I've often thought that maybe I should start reviewing some of my favorite books on this here blog, but then I start trying to form words to describe why I loved Jellicoe Road or The Fault in our Stars or The Scorpio Races, and I come up with nada. I stutter like a fool and end up babbling something like, "OMG it's just soooo good, you have to read it."
For instance, right now I'm reading an awesome book called Graceling by Kristin Cashore. Last night, I was trying to explain to my husband what it was about as I downloaded the second book in the series from the library. I'm like 250 pages in (out of 300, so almost done) and here's what I came up with:
"It's about this girl, who has two different colored eyes and has a special talent or 'grace' of killing people, cuz all people with two different colored eyes have different talents like that, and there are seven kingdoms, and it's sorta Lords of the Rings-ish, and there's a bad king who controls people just by speaking, he can like, change their thoughts, and the girl and this boy, who is also graced with fighting and the king's power doesn't work on him, rescue the little princess and have to take her away from the bad king guy..."
And it just sort of pilfered out after that.
See what I mean? Now, I'm sure if I actually sat down and gathered my thoughts I could write something that made a bit more sense than that. I just don't have the desire to. Is it because I've taken in so much of the story that I hate letting it back out? Hmm. Possible.
Seriously, though, go read all those books I mentioned here.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Feeling lucky
I know, I've been completely slacking on this whole blogging thing...and writing in general. Still. It's gotta turn around soon. I gotta get my groove back at some point, right? And now with the chill creeping into the air and the days getting shorter and shorter, I think there's no time like the present. Last year at this time I was writing like a fiend, setting aside time at least two or three days a week to write. I need to get back to that. I will.
Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment here to discuss how lovely the weekend was. Me and about 15 of my closest friends- Ok, so really that's like ALL my friends- got together at the wineries out on the east side. It was technically an early birthday celebration for me, but if any of you really know me, you know I basically use my birthday every year as an excuse to get all my peeps together in one place. I could care less about celebrating the actual day of my birth. I just want all my friends together.
And so, I'm feeling really happy, even three days later, that everyone made the effort to come out even if it was only for a couple hours. Some of us moved on to another winery and stayed the night at a hotel, but not everyone was able to do that. Which I completely understand. But still, some of my peeps drove at least an hour to get there just to hang out. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and loved and stuff.
Of course, a lot of my friends also really, really enjoy wine. ;o)
So a big shoutout to Karyn, who planned the whole event, which required a lot of phone calls and making of reservations and putting money on her credit card. And then a shoutout to everyone who came: Kerri, Gail, Patti, Debbie, Barra, Kelly, Holly, Michele, Michelle, Nikki, Kristen, Colleen, Shea, Seester and Jenny. I love you guys!!!
Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment here to discuss how lovely the weekend was. Me and about 15 of my closest friends- Ok, so really that's like ALL my friends- got together at the wineries out on the east side. It was technically an early birthday celebration for me, but if any of you really know me, you know I basically use my birthday every year as an excuse to get all my peeps together in one place. I could care less about celebrating the actual day of my birth. I just want all my friends together.
And so, I'm feeling really happy, even three days later, that everyone made the effort to come out even if it was only for a couple hours. Some of us moved on to another winery and stayed the night at a hotel, but not everyone was able to do that. Which I completely understand. But still, some of my peeps drove at least an hour to get there just to hang out. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and loved and stuff.
Of course, a lot of my friends also really, really enjoy wine. ;o)
So a big shoutout to Karyn, who planned the whole event, which required a lot of phone calls and making of reservations and putting money on her credit card. And then a shoutout to everyone who came: Kerri, Gail, Patti, Debbie, Barra, Kelly, Holly, Michele, Michelle, Nikki, Kristen, Colleen, Shea, Seester and Jenny. I love you guys!!!
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
another snippet
I'm not sure what my deal has been these past few weeks, but I've just completely lost my writing mojo. Like, I haven't felt any urge to pick up my laptop and continue on with the WIP. And that's weird in itself, because I'm really liking this WIP. Meh.
In any case, sometimes after I post snippets here my inspiration suddenly returns. So let's hope that happens again, cuz I'd really like to get back into my writing routine. I'd like to get back on track like last year, writing at least 2-3000 words per week until the first draft is done. I have a long way to go, considering I'm only at around 11k right now. Sigh.
Please enjoy this snippet and share your thoughts if you so desire. Feedback helps!! :o)
In any case, sometimes after I post snippets here my inspiration suddenly returns. So let's hope that happens again, cuz I'd really like to get back into my writing routine. I'd like to get back on track like last year, writing at least 2-3000 words per week until the first draft is done. I have a long way to go, considering I'm only at around 11k right now. Sigh.
Please enjoy this snippet and share your thoughts if you so desire. Feedback helps!! :o)
* * * * *
“Janie! Oh my god,
what are you doing?”
I stand up abruptly, dazed.
I’d been peering down into the well, trying to glimpse Connor’s note in
its depths. No matter how hard I squint
and stare, I cannot see it; it has completely disappeared into the darkness.
Rina grabs me and yanks me away from the well. She engulfs me in her arms, which feels
strange. Rina isn’t the touchy-feely
type, and I am about six inches taller than her. My chin rests on the top of her head, her
silky black hair smelling of strawberries.
“You officially are scaring the crap out of me,” she says,
choking a little.
“What? Why?” I hear
the words come out of my mouth, but it doesn’t feel like I’m the one saying
them. I sound distant, my voice not
attached to me.
She pulls back and stares into my eyes. “Janie, it seriously looked like you were
about to throw yourself into the well.
You know. Like Gabby did?”
I blink rapidly. That
thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I
glimpse back at the well and wriggle out of her arms. “I wasn’t going to do that,” I tell her.
Rina’s almond-shaped eyes narrow a little. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
I hesitate, feeling foolish.
Rina didn’t really believe the legends about Gabby’s ghost, either, and
would undoubtedly make fun of me for throwing Connor’s note into the well. “I just had to get out of the house.”
She cocks her head at me.
“And you came here. Of all
places.”
I look at the ground, slipping my foot into and out of my
flip flop. “Why not?”
“Because I know what this place means to you and Connor.”
I don’t answer.
Rina reaches over and takes my hand. “Janie, you’ve gotta be strong for him right
now. What happened was-“
“What happened was my fault,” I interrupt, wrenching
away. I stride back over to the well and
plop down on the edge of it, not caring if my shorts are being stained by the
mushy green moss coating the rim.
“I was going to say an accident. Like I’ve told you a hundred times, you
didn’t make him get in that car that night.”
I snort. “Yes, I
did.”
“Oh, right. You physically
shoved him in and locked the door from the outside, right? Is that what happened? My mistake.”
“You know what I mean, Ree.”
I run my hand along the edge of my shorts. “I-I didn’t believe him. And it devastated him.”
Rina walks over and sits down next to me. “You have to stop blaming yourself at some
point.”
“I can’t. Not until
he’s okay.”
Rina lets out a breath.
She won’t look at me, because she knows as well as I do that he might
not ever be okay again. “Have you seen him again?’
“Yesterday. Only for
a minute. It was…terrible.”
She nods. “I went
today. No change, by the way.”
I close my eyes. The
sun is shining right into my face and I’m beginning to get a headache from the
glare.
“They say we should talk to him. That if he hears familiar voices it might
help pull him back to us.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, picturing my strong, handsome Connor
weak and pale, hooked up to all those machines.
“He needs you, Janie.”
“I’m the last thing he needs.”
“He loves you,” Rina says simply.
I shake my head, my hair falling around my face like a
curtain.
Rina sighs. “I hope you change your mind. Because I, for one, truly think that if he
hears your voice, knows that you’re back and that you believe him, that’ll be
the key he needs to wake up. Call me crazy.” She stands, wiping off the back of her shorts
and grimacing when she feels the dampness the moss left. “You guys have something special, you know? It’s not a normal kind of love.” With that, she heads back into the woods and
leaves me to my thoughts.
Not a normal kind of
love. For so long, I’d believed that
about us. What we’d had together wasn’t
just silly teenage lust. Connor and I
had almost a sort of telepathy between us.
I could feel what he was
thinking most of the time, and vice versa.
We could speak to each other with just a glance. When we were apart I could still feel his
presence somewhere, like a magnet pulling me in his direction. He was the air I breathed, and without him, I
am slowly drowning.
I gaze back down into the blackness of the well to find it
is no longer completely darkened. A mist
is swirling up, reminding me of a fog rolling in over the hills. I blink, certain I am seeing things, but it
keeps rising and rising until I stumble backwards, watching it churn into the
air.
And then, suddenly, the mist is sucked back down, like the
well itself opened up its mouth and took a deep breath in, inhaling it
completely.
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. Clearly, I’m hallucinating. I try to think when the last time I ate
something was and I find I can’t remember.
Yesterday? Two days ago? Time is passing by so quickly that all my
days blur together into one big mass of colors, looking like a photo taken from
a moving car. I open my eyes and decide
to go home. There is nothing else I can
do here, and my stomach feels queasy now.
Whether that’s because it’s empty or I because I feel ridiculous for
throwing Connor’s note into the well, losing it forever, I cannot say.
I am about to cross into the woods when I hear it. It could be the breeze, which has picked up
again, or it may just be my imagination.
But I swear I hear a voice calling to me from across the Patterson
fields.
“Don’t…go…”
Thursday, September 6, 2012
striking similarities
When we first decided we were going to get a kitten, all I knew is that I wanted another male ginger cat. I just love the temperament of the gingers, and we had to get another boy for Stew. Less conflict, I figured. I wasn't looking for another Ollie, I really wasn't. Ollie was one of a kind and I knew I'd never find another cat like him. Nor did I want to. I wanted a fresh start, something new to share my heart with.
When we found Gus, I knew it was meant to be. I'd almost given up on finding a male ginger- at that point I just wanted a kitten. But there he was, just waiting at the shelter for me.
Gus is almost six months old now and probably weighs about five pounds, which was how much Ollie weighed before he passed away. But Gus is still very kitten-ish. He's gotten a lot bigger, but he still has the little kitten head and hasn't fully grown into his ridiculously long tail yet.
As he's gotten older, I'm not gonna lie- there are moments I feel like I'm looking at Ollie. I never wanted to compare the two, but I guess it can't really be helped. He's a snuggler just like Ollie was, always curled up next to me in bed at night. He likes his wet food warmed up like Ollie did. He's starting to beg for people food like crazy- just like Ollie always did (although I have NOT given in to him- no more of that!).
And then there are the physical aspects. Rather than try to describe them, let me share some pics:
Ollie, snuggling on his favorite blanket
Gus, snuggling on Ollie's favorite blanket
Ollie loaf of bread-style, his favorite way to sit
Gus loaf of bread style...just started doing this
Ollie cashed out
Gus cashed out
When we found Gus, I knew it was meant to be. I'd almost given up on finding a male ginger- at that point I just wanted a kitten. But there he was, just waiting at the shelter for me.
Gus is almost six months old now and probably weighs about five pounds, which was how much Ollie weighed before he passed away. But Gus is still very kitten-ish. He's gotten a lot bigger, but he still has the little kitten head and hasn't fully grown into his ridiculously long tail yet.
As he's gotten older, I'm not gonna lie- there are moments I feel like I'm looking at Ollie. I never wanted to compare the two, but I guess it can't really be helped. He's a snuggler just like Ollie was, always curled up next to me in bed at night. He likes his wet food warmed up like Ollie did. He's starting to beg for people food like crazy- just like Ollie always did (although I have NOT given in to him- no more of that!).
And then there are the physical aspects. Rather than try to describe them, let me share some pics:
Ollie, snuggling on his favorite blanket
Gus, snuggling on Ollie's favorite blanket
Ollie loaf of bread-style, his favorite way to sit
Gus loaf of bread style...just started doing this
Ollie cashed out
Gus cashed out
I mean...I just...it's almost creepy, isn't it??
Whether Gus actually has part of Ollie's "soul" or whatever...well, it doesn't really matter. He definitely has a piece of my heart. I love that little stinker, death breath and all.
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