It has come to my attention that I have abandoned this blog.
Of course, the fact that I have now made such a statement on this blog makes the above statement no longer valid.
At any rate, I apologize.
I declared in a previous post that I wasn't going to do NaNoWriMo. Then I went through a brief phase in the last week of October where I decided that I was going to do it via the pantser approach. When November actually hit, I did one day's worth of writing. The story was going nowhere. I quit.
Yay.
Since then, I've been off in La-la land (otherwise known as Trekkie land), enjoying myself in a sort of... well... insanely obsessed and preoccupied and completely unproductive way.
Has it been good for me? Probably not. Sponging off of someone else's creativity is one of the best ways to make your creative mind start to rot.
So right now, I am trying to drag my brain out of La-la land and find some nice, quiet place where it can learn to be creative again.
A dear writing friend, when I told her I was in a rut, suggested that I try writing prompts. I think that is an excellent idea, so if you feel so inclined, dear reader, please leave me a comment with a prompt off the top of your head. It can be a one-word prompt, a random object, a situation... anything. I only ask that it not be something inherently goofy, as I want to try writing something serious off of the prompts. And thank you in advance.
On a final note, every Christian author should go read this post about the Christian imagination. Powerful stuff, that.
"But words are things, and a small drop of ink / Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces / That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think." ~Lord Byron
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Just Blogthings
You Are Shy and Thoughtful |
 You've always been a bit of a fragile flower. You're easily effected by the world around you. It's likely that you consider yourself to be a dork or a nerd. You're very involved in your own interests. While you are quite striking and attractive, you often don't feel that way. You don't see your own beauty. People appreciate your uniqueness and that you don't try to be like anyone else. You couldn't be like anyone else, even if you tried! |
Deep Down You Are Intuitive |
 You're the type of person who understands other people and the world very well. You don't let on to how much you know. You can tell so much from someone's facial expressions or tone of voice. And you always know when you're being lied to. You show the world exactly what you want to show. Besides being good at reading people, you also know how you're being read. You know when you're being manipulated, and you know how to manipulate someone if you have to. You usually don't resort to it though! |
You Are Fantasy / Sci Fi |
 You have an amazing imagination, and in your mind, all things are possible. You are open minded, and you find the future exciting. You crave novelty and progress. Compared to most people, you are quirky and even a bit eccentric. You have some wacky ideas. And while you may be a bit off the wall, there's no denying how insightful and creative you are. |
You are a Dreamer |
 You tend to have your head in the clouds. You love to be drawn in to a whole other world. You are a reflective person. You prefer books that make you take stock of your life. You are a person with a few deep interests. If you're drawn to something, you learn everything about it. You are a person who values your possessions. You tend to have fewer things but of higher quality. |
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Why I'm Not Doing NaNoWriMo This Year
Sometimes I get jealous when I surf other people's blogs. "Wow," I think. "They have their very own place on the internet where they can post what they like!"
Of course, the moment that I actually form the feeling into so many words is usually the same moment that I remember I have my own blog.
I am a silly goose, no?
At the moment, my laptop is back in semi-working condition. I don't know how long it will last -- I've learned not to take anything for granted -- but I am determined to not be disappointed, no matter what happens with it. Disappointment, when you really look at it, can be such a waste of energy. Treat everything like a gift, and with time everything feels like a delightful surprise. It's a beautiful way to live.
I am thinking that I might not do NaNoWriMo after all. This morning, I found myself thinking of November, and wishing that I didn't have to curtail all the writing-related things I want to do, simply because I think I should do NaNoWriMo. It is true that at this stage in my life, I desperately need some time devoted solely to creativity. But the more I reflect on the matter, the more I think that NaNoWriMo is not the creative activity that I need.
The reason that the passion and creativity have left my writing is this: since I discovered I could write, I have tried my best to accomplish something with my writing because I wanted to prove that I could accomplish something, not because I loved writing itself. Sure, I still loved it, but I took that passion for granted as a tool, a means to an end. The continual pressure I put on myself to perform has driven so much of the joy from my writing. I find myself longing for the days when I could start random stories in order to play with an idea, without feeling like I absolutely had to finish them. I want to be able to "doodle" with my writing again.
So, here is what I propose to do with my writing life: instead of devoting the month of November to writing 50,000 words of a novel, I will devote that time to creativity. I will play with ideas, construct plots I may never use, scribble character sketches, start stories that I will never finish, draw characters, and care not if I make a mess. I will do the things that the performance pressure has kept me from doing. And hopefully, I will heal.
Of course, the moment that I actually form the feeling into so many words is usually the same moment that I remember I have my own blog.
I am a silly goose, no?
At the moment, my laptop is back in semi-working condition. I don't know how long it will last -- I've learned not to take anything for granted -- but I am determined to not be disappointed, no matter what happens with it. Disappointment, when you really look at it, can be such a waste of energy. Treat everything like a gift, and with time everything feels like a delightful surprise. It's a beautiful way to live.
I am thinking that I might not do NaNoWriMo after all. This morning, I found myself thinking of November, and wishing that I didn't have to curtail all the writing-related things I want to do, simply because I think I should do NaNoWriMo. It is true that at this stage in my life, I desperately need some time devoted solely to creativity. But the more I reflect on the matter, the more I think that NaNoWriMo is not the creative activity that I need.
The reason that the passion and creativity have left my writing is this: since I discovered I could write, I have tried my best to accomplish something with my writing because I wanted to prove that I could accomplish something, not because I loved writing itself. Sure, I still loved it, but I took that passion for granted as a tool, a means to an end. The continual pressure I put on myself to perform has driven so much of the joy from my writing. I find myself longing for the days when I could start random stories in order to play with an idea, without feeling like I absolutely had to finish them. I want to be able to "doodle" with my writing again.
So, here is what I propose to do with my writing life: instead of devoting the month of November to writing 50,000 words of a novel, I will devote that time to creativity. I will play with ideas, construct plots I may never use, scribble character sketches, start stories that I will never finish, draw characters, and care not if I make a mess. I will do the things that the performance pressure has kept me from doing. And hopefully, I will heal.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
A Failed Goal
September twenty-eighth, two-thousand and ten.
I convert the date into letters because it seems so much more harmless when spelled out like that. I can hear a young lady with a British accent speaking it aloud in my mind, and it sounds nice that way. If I just blurt it out in numbers then the end of the month seems so much closer, and somewhere inside me a little writer cowers in terror.
I told myself that I would have the rough draft of Evanescent Moonlight done by the end of September at the latest.
And...
...it sits at 65,283 words, nowhere near done.
So I am forced to re-evaluate my situation. Very well, I don't have it done. And I do know several reasons why it isn't done:
But enough of making excuses to myself. I have to face up to the fact that, little by little, I have become one of those 'writers' who talk and read and think about writing but never actually do it. I know so much, but what have I done?
I believe that if you truly love something, you will make time for it. And I have made plenty of time for reading writing blogs, listening to writing podcasts, talking about writing, and writing blog posts about writing. I have also spent much time thinking about writing, thinking about interesting character traits or story twists, stealing ideas straight from history, imagining how I could use fiction to convey the things I feel most passionate about.
So I'm not sure I understand this stranglehold that apathy has on me.
Is it just another form of my recurring struggle to get things out of my head and into the real world? That I could very well believe. The darn beasty came back. It latches onto my human nature, trying to drown out the voice of reason that says that anything worth doing is bound to be hard.
I have learned so much in the past six months. So much! I look back on the things I knew about writing a year ago, and the difference seems hard to comprehend. But the gulf between what I know and what I can do has grown so vast that now I am afraid of trying.
But I know that I can't stop here.
So I extend my imaginary sword (you know, the one all writers carry, whether they know it or not), and cry that I will do hard things! I will not stop! I will remain fully aware of the difficulties facing me at all times, and I will not avoid them!
And above all, I will not allow how little I have accomplished at this point to keep me from trying. I am competing against my past self, and no one else. Productiveness is not always measured by word count, and one cannot judge the success of a multifaceted life based on one single area.
I convert the date into letters because it seems so much more harmless when spelled out like that. I can hear a young lady with a British accent speaking it aloud in my mind, and it sounds nice that way. If I just blurt it out in numbers then the end of the month seems so much closer, and somewhere inside me a little writer cowers in terror.
I told myself that I would have the rough draft of Evanescent Moonlight done by the end of September at the latest.
And...
...it sits at 65,283 words, nowhere near done.
So I am forced to re-evaluate my situation. Very well, I don't have it done. And I do know several reasons why it isn't done:
- Procrastination. (Might as well get that one out of the way first, no?)
- My laptop still doesn't work, so I am sharing this desktop with two other people.
- I have been reading a lot more. (Yay!)
- School.
But enough of making excuses to myself. I have to face up to the fact that, little by little, I have become one of those 'writers' who talk and read and think about writing but never actually do it. I know so much, but what have I done?
I believe that if you truly love something, you will make time for it. And I have made plenty of time for reading writing blogs, listening to writing podcasts, talking about writing, and writing blog posts about writing. I have also spent much time thinking about writing, thinking about interesting character traits or story twists, stealing ideas straight from history, imagining how I could use fiction to convey the things I feel most passionate about.
So I'm not sure I understand this stranglehold that apathy has on me.
Is it just another form of my recurring struggle to get things out of my head and into the real world? That I could very well believe. The darn beasty came back. It latches onto my human nature, trying to drown out the voice of reason that says that anything worth doing is bound to be hard.
I have learned so much in the past six months. So much! I look back on the things I knew about writing a year ago, and the difference seems hard to comprehend. But the gulf between what I know and what I can do has grown so vast that now I am afraid of trying.
But I know that I can't stop here.
So I extend my imaginary sword (you know, the one all writers carry, whether they know it or not), and cry that I will do hard things! I will not stop! I will remain fully aware of the difficulties facing me at all times, and I will not avoid them!
And above all, I will not allow how little I have accomplished at this point to keep me from trying. I am competing against my past self, and no one else. Productiveness is not always measured by word count, and one cannot judge the success of a multifaceted life based on one single area.
Friday, September 24, 2010
To be compelled by a being of ink and paper...
So, thanks to Lyla at Read By Flashlight, I discovered The Great Blogging Experiment with enough time to participate in it!
The prescribed topic is Writing Compelling Characters, which, I think, is a beautiful topic.
Much has been said on various blogs and in all sorts of books concerning what makes a character compelling. There are some things that certainly help make a compelling character, and while I agree with many aspects, there is a part of me that rebels at formula.
I think that in many cases, a better question to ask is why we dislike certain characters, often without a solid reason for doing so.
My belief: we hate these characters because we suspect that underneath all the description, the character isn't a real person.
I'm not talking about the author. The author is certainly real, but is the character that the author has written real to the author? Does the writer believe that this character could very well exist, and is a valuable and interesting person? And most importantly, does the author not take that fact for granted?
We love characters either because we believe they could exist, or because we wish that they did.
Yes, characters can be unbelievable, but they have the unbelievability that real people have. Have you looked at real people recently? Have you noticed the people in your own life who, when it boils down to it, are unbelievable? We admire great and compelling characters for much the same reason we admire great and compelling people: because they have the audacity to exist as themselves.
But there's another step between real characters and compelling characters. There are some characters that are perfectly believable, but we still hate them because we feel these characters latching onto us with greedy fingers and pulling at us, sucking up our attention and our enthusiasm like a sponge, with no recompense. Yes, we hate them because they give us nothing. We read to gain. We are willing to sacrifice our time and attention with the understanding that we will get something in return. A compelling character is one that accepts the reader's sacrifice, and gives back even more than what was expected. More heart, more interest, more honesty, more of that audaciously thrilling reality -- so that even when the book is done, we remember the character as if they had been in the same room with us.
This isn't an exhaustive guide, of course. But I believe this is the starting point.
The prescribed topic is Writing Compelling Characters, which, I think, is a beautiful topic.
Much has been said on various blogs and in all sorts of books concerning what makes a character compelling. There are some things that certainly help make a compelling character, and while I agree with many aspects, there is a part of me that rebels at formula.
I think that in many cases, a better question to ask is why we dislike certain characters, often without a solid reason for doing so.
My belief: we hate these characters because we suspect that underneath all the description, the character isn't a real person.
I'm not talking about the author. The author is certainly real, but is the character that the author has written real to the author? Does the writer believe that this character could very well exist, and is a valuable and interesting person? And most importantly, does the author not take that fact for granted?
We love characters either because we believe they could exist, or because we wish that they did.
Yes, characters can be unbelievable, but they have the unbelievability that real people have. Have you looked at real people recently? Have you noticed the people in your own life who, when it boils down to it, are unbelievable? We admire great and compelling characters for much the same reason we admire great and compelling people: because they have the audacity to exist as themselves.
But there's another step between real characters and compelling characters. There are some characters that are perfectly believable, but we still hate them because we feel these characters latching onto us with greedy fingers and pulling at us, sucking up our attention and our enthusiasm like a sponge, with no recompense. Yes, we hate them because they give us nothing. We read to gain. We are willing to sacrifice our time and attention with the understanding that we will get something in return. A compelling character is one that accepts the reader's sacrifice, and gives back even more than what was expected. More heart, more interest, more honesty, more of that audaciously thrilling reality -- so that even when the book is done, we remember the character as if they had been in the same room with us.
This isn't an exhaustive guide, of course. But I believe this is the starting point.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Bookish Things (Including Book Reviews)
My writing is in a strange spot recently, so how about I talk about reading books instead of writing them?
I picked up Brandon Sanderson’s book, Mistborn: The Final Empire, from the library yesterday. I’ve decided this will be the final test of whether or not I like epic fantasy – the book is over 500 pages long, and it’s the first of a trilogy. So far, I’ve only finished the prologue. It is interesting so far. The style doesn’t pull me in immediately – methinks I’ve been spoiled by the Douglas Adams and Oscar Wilde I’ve been reading recently, as both of them have distinct styles (and in the case of Adams, his quirky, unpredictable style was the main reason I kept reading – more on him below). Ah, well. We’ll see how it goes. I suspect it will end up in the large stack of books I started out of curiosity and never finished, but I’ll give it an honest go. At any rate, I will write a review of however much of it I do read.
I have decided: I want to read The Hunger Games. After so many years of resisting bestsellers and YA (and particularly best-selling YA), I’ve decided to yield to both of them. Since there are over 250 requests on the copies at the library, I have decided to ask for it for my upcoming birthday. (Which is soon. Far too soon.) It is rare for me to buy a book without having read it first, so I am both excited and a little apprehensive. Apprehensive? Yes. I seem to have terrible luck with books that I just pick off the shelves. Oh well. Anything that is an adventure is bound to have some element of danger, and if reading books is the former (which is certainly is), then I can’t expect to always be successful in avoiding the latter. And some things are worth the risk.
And now for brief reviews of a couple of books I finished reading recently:
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
If you have anything remotely resembling a quirky streak, this book is for you. Douglas Adams uses randomness, implications, digressions, and the surprisingly logical absurd to take the reader on a wild ride and leave him giggling and spouting quotes from the book. This book was so much fun. I enjoyed every minute of it, and I highly recommend it.
I picked up Brandon Sanderson’s book, Mistborn: The Final Empire, from the library yesterday. I’ve decided this will be the final test of whether or not I like epic fantasy – the book is over 500 pages long, and it’s the first of a trilogy. So far, I’ve only finished the prologue. It is interesting so far. The style doesn’t pull me in immediately – methinks I’ve been spoiled by the Douglas Adams and Oscar Wilde I’ve been reading recently, as both of them have distinct styles (and in the case of Adams, his quirky, unpredictable style was the main reason I kept reading – more on him below). Ah, well. We’ll see how it goes. I suspect it will end up in the large stack of books I started out of curiosity and never finished, but I’ll give it an honest go. At any rate, I will write a review of however much of it I do read.
I have decided: I want to read The Hunger Games. After so many years of resisting bestsellers and YA (and particularly best-selling YA), I’ve decided to yield to both of them. Since there are over 250 requests on the copies at the library, I have decided to ask for it for my upcoming birthday. (Which is soon. Far too soon.) It is rare for me to buy a book without having read it first, so I am both excited and a little apprehensive. Apprehensive? Yes. I seem to have terrible luck with books that I just pick off the shelves. Oh well. Anything that is an adventure is bound to have some element of danger, and if reading books is the former (which is certainly is), then I can’t expect to always be successful in avoiding the latter. And some things are worth the risk.
And now for brief reviews of a couple of books I finished reading recently:
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
If you have anything remotely resembling a quirky streak, this book is for you. Douglas Adams uses randomness, implications, digressions, and the surprisingly logical absurd to take the reader on a wild ride and leave him giggling and spouting quotes from the book. This book was so much fun. I enjoyed every minute of it, and I highly recommend it.
-But Be Forewarned: There is much cussing of the British variety, along with one or two occurrences of the s-word. References to drinking. The cost of losing a drinking game is described as being “obscenely biological.” References made to Christian themes and beliefs that aren’t at all reverent (of course). A consistent theme is the insignificance of humanity.
Modern Art and the Death of a Culture
Even though this book was written nearly forty years ago, H. R. Rookmaaker’s words still have relevance and power. Coming at art with a Biblical worldview, he dissects Modern art and exposes it as the product of an anti-Christian ideology nearly 500 years in the making. After laying out the history of Western art and thought, he offers an insightful solution for what to do to confront this godless tide of destruction.
-Personal Note- A lot of my material for my research paper on Modern art came from this book. After a while I had to stop and remind myself that for a research paper I did have to take from other sources. If it were possible, I would have quoted the entire thing.
-But Be Forewarned: Since Modern art is frequently grotesque and obscene by nature, Rookmaaker must occasionally touch on topics that are inappropriate for children. But he does so tactfully, and I did not find the references offensive at all.
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