I'm Not Dead

Hi! I'm not dead.

Just in case you were wondering.

I've just been busy, and then forgot that I had a blog until I read the super-awesomeness that is www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com which you should all go read. And read the archives too.

I do feel like I'm putting some of the pieces of my life back together, which is good. In case I forgot to mention here, I felt like I'd lost direction and purpose and had no idea what I was supposed to do with myself.

I've finally stopped fighting the fact that I want to be a writer, and that's about all I want to do. Ever.

So I'm figuring out what to do with that, other than writing obviously, and we'll see where I go next.

But I won't wait so long in between posts next time.

Now, when you are least suspecting it -

I know you probably thought I'd forgotten, or given up on, Reverb10.

Surprise! I was writing them, but forgetting to post them.

There is a subtle difference.

So here's the next one. It's practically a bullet point list, but I did write it early in the morning - or maybe late at night - I don't know. Don't judge me.

What do you want to try next year? Is there something you wanted to try in 2010? What happened when you did / didn’t go for it?

I want to try to make a sundress. I also want to try to build a business so I can work from home. I also want to try to finish a novel I started a year ago; and try to get another novel sent to a publisher.

All of the above are things I wanted to try in 2010. What happened when I tried all those things this year - the sundress got put on hold when I had no iron and I had a bent needle on my sewing machine; building a business proved harder than anticipated and I gave up and restarted and gave up and restarted and then felt like God was telling me to slow down and wait for my time - not yet, not yet; I got too involved in the novel and then sank into depression and had to leave it alone; and I lost my other novel in my office which was/is a disaster area and only recently found it again.

What happened to me with all of this is that I felt worthless and like I couldn’t finish anything.

I know that isn’t true though. So I’m going to try again and this time I’m going to succeed.

Action

To quote Reverb10 - When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step?

Well shit.

This is probably what my Arbonne sponsor would like to know too.

Although I'm realizing what my dreams actually are, and defining what I really want, and it changes as I get older and more informed about the world, and more aware of what matters to me.

To answer this I really need to know what my aspirations are. The only repeating aspiration I have is to be a published author. I don't do much to promote this goal of mine. Although writing these every day is a baby step towards that - it keeps me writing every day - and that's something. I am slowly going through the full length novel I wrote two years ago, getting it ready to submit to a publishing house, and that's something too. It's just a lot of baby steps. Little pieces of action, far apart. I'm not sure why I'm not a big action quickly sort of girl. I never have been. But I don't think that's because I couldn't do it. Just for some reason I don't.

And with Arbonne...it's a strange feeling. I wanted to promote in November, to the next level, to share my dreams with some business builders and get the ball rolling. I was half-way there - and then doors began to shut. Gently. But shutting nonetheless. And I got the distinct, strange feeling that November was not my time. That it would be, at some point, my time to make Arbonne my focus. But not right now. I went to an Arbonne meeting and again, got the sense that while I needed to keep my toes in the water, it was not the time to 'hurry hard' at this.

I'm not sure why.

I felt strongly that I needed to start my business at the level I did. I don't regret doing it. I'm glad I started on this venture, and I still have dreams and goals. I just can't get it going right now and for some reason I feel like that's a deliberate thing.

It's strange but I'm going with it. If I can't follow my TUG (the ultimate guide, built into each one of us) then I can't follow anything.

Those are the two main areas I have aspirations in that I feel I need to take action on. One, I feel I need to take more action. The other, I feel I'm doing what I'm supposed to even if it doesn't seem like enough.

What are my next steps? With writing, it's to finish these prompts and get my book ready to send away. I guess I should set a deadline. I will have my manuscript (or a selection of it) in the mail to the publishing house by my next birthday (which is coming up pretty fast here). With Arbonne, it's to keep dipping my toes in, keep pushing here and there to see if there's a spot to find forward momentum, and wait for my gut (hmm, reverse tug and what do you get?) to tell me that it's time to move further, faster, now.

Wonder

This is from Reverb10.

I ponder the question, how did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? And I think, off the top of my head, that I didn't.

This year was a year of ups and downs for me. Incredible ups. Intense downs.

I started the year with such joy and hope and excitement. I was going to be involved with four theatrical productions, possibly more. I was going to have two shows produced that I had written. I was unemployed but with a sense that things would be okay, I would be provided for and my soul would be fed and I would be okay. My faith was strong. My joy complete.

The first project of the year. Working with friends. Writing a show out of the blue - so three written works produced! - and having a blast, and making money doing what I love. The wonder of that experience just happened. I didn't go out of my way to cultivate it. I just experienced it and revelled in the love of it.

Working with children in a homeless shelter. I wondered, in a different way, at their lives. The fact they would use the microwave on the toy kitchen and not the stove or oven. They would use a toy phone but not talk to each other. Again I didn't cultivate a sense of wonder, and it wasn't a sense of wonder in the way I suspect is meant by the question I am pondering.

Then we started rehearsals for the second theatrical project of the year. A play I wrote. A character I loved. A process that was just fun, just playing with friends. A wonder I felt at the joy and the fun and the play. This wasn't work. It was sheer enjoyment of being alive. It was wonderous. And then the show was cancelled - postponed - cancelled. Three days into rehearsal. Anger warred with disappointment warred with resentment and more anger. Fury. Rage.

The other two shows I was supposed to be a part of were cancelled too. Both my plays now unproduced sitting in drawers where I couldn't see them.

More anger. More rage. Much more resentment.

Depression.

Unemployment again but this time without the sense that I would be provided for. Without a sense of purpose. I felt lost and drifting. Inexplicable anger, misdirected at those I love instead of those people, and forces, I was angry with. No wonder, unless you count wondering why I was so angry and upset and sad and dark. And then it was just numb and apathetic.

We got a puppy, at first a minor distraction and then a reason to get up in the morning because she needed me to. It probably saved me. Even if it also showed me the darkest pools of rage, brought a great fear into myself because how could I be so angry with a little baby, innocent of ill intent, to the edge of hurting her but at least I could stop myself from crossing that line. And I was feeling something again. Even if it wasn't wonder or joy.

A patch of light. Visiting home for a few weeks. Nothing to do but no pressure to do anything. I couldn't find work here, I was a visitor. And then a spot of interest, a chance to take matters into my own hands, Arbonne was a chance to make money and have some aspect of life come back, and so I took it and floundered.

I realized there was no balance. Either all focus was on writing, or acting, or Arbonne, or socializing, or finding work, or playing games. When doing one the others vanished. I realized this was what I actually wanted - balance - all aspects of a whole life showing themselves at once. More than riches or fame or success. Balance would be nice.

I put myself out there. I get work. I wonder at how the pieces are suddenly falling into place for me. What happened? What was I lacking all summer, why is there light now where there was darkness, why hope where there was despair, why joy where there was an endless hole of anger? And the anger is still there, simmering. But it's not at the top anymore. It's progress. Or at least pleasant. I have time with friends. Work with money. Arbonne appointments. Family visits. Love. Auditions. A writing class. A welcoming congregation. Life is full of wonder and joy again.

Life throws some curve balls. I lose my job. Arbonne falls to the background, people say no, they don't want to hear what I'm doing. We can't go home for Christmas. The dog is being a little shit. The church is full of lies. The audition is a bust, writer's block surfaces.

And I hear a man speak about resentment circling down to resistance circling down to revenge. About the foundational stories that provide cracks and leaks and lies in the houses that are our lives. About how to identify those stories and change them and begin to heal. To let go of resentment. To let go of the lies and find our way to Balance. True abundance in every aspect of our lives.

And I let go of resentments I've held since the spring. Since the shows vanished along with my joy. I begin the life-long process of replacing lies with Truth, of reprogramming the voices in my head, of finding Balance with a capital B.

People still say no to Arbonne but for some reason I feel that it's a gentle Not Now from Him. I don't know why but I am okay. Moments of despair instead of weeks of darkness. A chance to speak blessings into the lives of hundreds of people every day, people who may not know what I'm doing but for whom I hope it makes a difference anyway. A Joe Job transformed into a chance for Light to triumph. A dog who is still being a shit but instead of unfathomable anger I find patience and an acknowledgement that she is there to teach me as much as I am there to guide her on the path to Good Dog. Writer's block dissipates. Auditions still a bust but that's okay too. It's about more than that, a bigger picture, a life of joy and abundance instead of panic and lacking.

New friendships grow out of unexpected places. Chances to share a faith that is unconventional at best. To share a joy and a peace and a gratefulness without labels or limitations. Old friendships revitalized once my resistance was thrown away. Joy in the hiccups of an unborn baby.

I am finding my sense of wonder again and for that I am so, so grateful. If that is what the summer was for. For me to appreciate the Light again once I began to find it. Then I am slowly growing grateful for the summer as well.

My Life This Past Month

I haven't posted anything here in almost a month.

It's not like I've been terribly busy this past month or anything.

This past month I've:

written
procrastinated
fought the darkness
fought the light
spent time with friends
isolated myself
cut my hair - bad, bad idea
been frustrated with and in love with puppy Z at the same time
gone and house/pug sat for my parents
become an Arbonne consultant

My life in a nutshell.

The last few days, since becoming a consultant, I've had an excuse for business. Huh. I meant to spell 'busyness' but I guess business works too. Steep learning curve but it's good for me. I'm already meeting some really cool people and getting out of my head - I had no idea how much I needed that until I started.

The last month for puppy Z has involved learning a few new tricks (she rolls over now, and we're starting her on a military routine - she sits, lays down, crawls a few paces and rolls over before sitting back up - you never know when you're going to need a puppy marine) and chewing on EVERYTHING. Hence the 'in love' and 'frustrated with'. She eats, literally eats, wood, whether that be baseboards or stair edges. And paint. And bits of the carpet. Argh. Just chew on your bully stick, you dumb animal. And then she sits there, all cuteness and little jowls, and how can I stay mad at that?

Lots of learning, on many levels and to many purposes. Life, I guess.

In a nutshell.

This Resonates

I deeply admire Stephen King.

I have not read anywhere near enough of his books to consider myself a true fan. Let me correct myself. I do think of myself as a fan, an erstwhile, ill educated fan. Other people probably wouldn't consider me a fan because I haven't read enough of his stuff, but I'm getting there. Slowly and in a haphazard manner.

I just finished his book, Mist. This passage is one of the reasons I have a strong artist crush on the man.

“You know what talent is? The curse of expectation. As a kid you have to deal with that, beat it somehow. If you can write, you think God put you on earth to blow Shakespeare away. Or if you can paint, maybe you think - I did - that God put you on earth to blow your father away....since (realizing that he was a good commercial artist) that voice of disappointed expectation - that cheated child’s voice that can never be satisfied with such a mild superlative as good - has fallen pretty much silent. And except for a few rumbles - like the sounds of those unseen creatures somewhere out in the foggy night - it has been pretty much silent ever since. Maybe you can tell me - why should the silencing of that childish, demanding voice seem so much like dying?”

This is said by the main character, David, an artist.

In the middle of a book about human behaviour when faced with deep fear, he has this additional nugget of truth that resonated with me so much I had to write it down and keep it forever.

On a bit of a side note, in the opening credits of Alan Wake (that game I wrote about the other day), Alan attributes this quote to Stephen King. "Explanation is the antithesis to fear." Love, explanation - heart and mind - logic and emotion. Both are tools we were given to deal with the world around us, two sides of one coin. Too bad we humans tend to pick one side over the other instead of finding the balance between the two!

Write What You Know

I'm doing a fair amount of writing these days. It's amazing how many hours there are in a day when you have nothing to fill them. It's equally amazing how easy it is to piddle those hours away with useless, meaningless crap. Facebook, I'm looking at you.

I'm also getting in a lot of reading. The Chronicles of Narnia, The Sparrow and Children of God, Good Omens, Of Mice and Men. And the odd book on writing or acting. Or both.

The book I'm reading right now, The Blunt Playwright, is proving both enjoyable and thought provoking.

In particular the comments on knowing what the protagonist wants. This shouldn't require that much thought, should it?

But when I often don't know what I want in real life I guess it's not that surprising that I have trouble writing characters who know what they want too.

I mean, it works. Sometimes very well, because I think a lot of people go through life not knowing what they want. The trouble is that when you're writing a story, it has to go somewhere.

The people in the story have to want something badly enough to change their lives for it.

Which is also something I don't think I do on a regular basis. I don't know if I want anything outside my current sphere badly enough right now to change my life.

The wonder and beauty of writing, though, is that I am provided with catharsis and voyeurism on a daily basis. I live a dozen lives a day, lives where I do want something, badly enough to kill; where I fight, am angry, am gentle and soft; where I make sense of a confusing world and where I succumb entirely to the chaos, to the moment. Lives that end and lives that keep going. Moments captured and moments lost.

It's a challenge. It's an incredible release.


Even with this post, I don't really know what it is I want to say.

Just that I'm writing, I guess. And it's wonderful strange and hard all at once. I am so lucky to be able to just sit at home and write.

I should put that as my status on Facebook. Be right back...

Inspiration + No Excuses = Time For Hard Work

I just learned that "Water for Elephants", by Sara Gruen (which is quite a popular book) was a NaNoWriMo novel.

Also, that one of the Giller Prize nominees was a first novel, by a 26 year old woman (her mother came into the bookstore, very neat experience for me).

All of this to say, that if I want to be a writer, I have no excuse not to be one. I suddenly realized that it is a goal that is completely within my grasp. I could be a published, successful author by the time I'm 28 if I put the work in.

(28 is not a random number, it's actually been my mental goal for a while.)

(Coincidentally, the year I turn 28 is the year my mother will turn 50, and that is her magic number for being a published author too. I picked the number 28 before I realized this. Insert Twilight Zone music here.)

Now my goal is online. People can see it. People will know if I succeed or fail.

I'd better get to work.

I'm Not Dead

But I do have limited internet access.  I'll be back, I promise - I have blog posts written and waiting for me to get my computer to an internet port.  Soon, soon!

Advice on the Radio

I wake up in the morning to CBC Radio. A good way to get a clue about the outside world, a bad way to remember dreams - they fade in the blur of murders and the many varied tragedies that are deemed important for me to know about.

This morning, although I don't remember what happened on the news (except for a school shooting in Germany), I did lay in bed and listen to half an hour of Q. They were going to interview some Monty Python people but couldn't get ahold of them, so instead they aired an interview they had already done with David Sedaris.

Working in a book store (which I may not be for much longer but that's another story) I see books and authors all around me every day that I was previously unaware of. David Sedaris is one of those authors. He's in the humour section. Guys are the ones who pick up his books so I had relegated him to a pile in my mind labled, not interesting.

What a mistake that was. The interview was fascinating. He's a morbid guy. Morbid and funny and all he does is observe the world around him. And when he writes about his friends and family, which he does a lot, he always clears it by them first. Gets them to read it and tell him if there's anything they want him to change. Why? Because he values his relationships over his writing. What he's going to share with the world, he clears with the ones he loves first.

That level of respect impressed me greatly.

I don't think I've done a very good job of doing that. So now I'm going to start.

It doesn't cramp my creativity. I write what I want and no-one stops me. But if I'm going to share that writing with the world? There is a fall out from that, and it had better be one that I, and those who are important to me, can live with.

Thank you, David Sedaris. You will probably never read this (unless you have that Google thing that lets you know anytime someone writes your name online) but thank you anyway.

Mellow

I'm high on migraine medication. I resisted taking it for 12 hours. Why I do that I'm not sure but this morning when I woke up with one side of my head clamouring to secede I finally caved and now my head is a party and the rest of me is a few beat behind in the music. That's okay. I'd rather that then civil war.

I am going to wait to work on my novel until I come down though.

I had something important to write but in the time it took for this page to load it scampered away. In my current mellow state I'm cool with that. In fact it probably wasn't that important anyway.

The only thing I really am aware of right now is that I can't believe secede is spelled that way. Really? It looks wrong but spell check assures me that it isn't.

I wonder what it would be like to live my life in this head-space. I don't think it would work very well. I'd never get anything done because nothing seems that urgent to me right now. I'm very glad I don't have to work like this. I've been lucky in that I rarely have had to work in a post-migraine state - although I did do a show like this once and thought everything in the first act was extremely hilarious. Which was okay. I was supposed to be full of Christmas Spirit and though I was probably a little too relaxed it did help me sing better.

Well, with that profound thought, I'm going to go wait for this to wear off. If anyone walks by my house and hears Christmas music sung very loudly at least someone will know why.

Moving On

I don't have much to say. I'm using my creative writing energies in my novel - I'm at 32,500 words heading towards 50,000 - and I know I haven't been here much.
I'm just enjoying life. The snow. Seeing friends. Knowing everyone I see on the street. I'm enjoying it while it lasts. Because it won't last forever, and while I'll miss it, I'm excited about the next step too!
Off to the world of my novel, now. I'll be back, I promise - November doesn't last forever either.

Such a Novel Time

I recently learned that November is National Novel Writing Month (shortened by some to NaNoWriMo). Writers from all over the world (or nation, I guess - except I'm not sure which nation this is in) dedicate themselves to writing a 50,000 word novel in the month of November.
I signed up to do this and am 11,000 words or so into a story that has been riding in my head for eight years.
Good thing for my characters I learned about NaNoWriMo, wouldn't you say?
It isn't always easy to make myself sit down and write - sometimes I downright avoid it but so far (and it's only been a week) I've done it every day and after I'm done I always feel like I've accomplished something even if I think a lot of what I've written is crap. The good thing is as part of the quest to a finished first draft you aren't allowed to edit. Editing is for December. So even if I think my work isn't up to par I can't do anything about it right now. That's very freeing.
Well, back to work. I have a few hundred words to go today before I sleep.