Stone Girl's posts with tag: writing
Where do the notions of childhood go when the years pass and age grays the senses? I was a child who played in the dirt. A kid safe in her own backyard, But the dark dirt held all the creepies. The spiders, the pill bugs, the beetles, the tomato worm! Yet I welcomed the dear ladybug. Disguised in her bright red mantle, I forgot she too was a beetle. A beetle! The shaking, the fleeing, the shrieking! The world’s colors were bright to my eyes. I learned from the people around me, and they from me if they listened. The words, the feelings, the ideas, the beliefs. Then I grew up and spent less time in dirt. More with those who see only contrasts, those who insist all is black or white. I’m right! You’re wrong! I care! You don’t! Who will bring color back to their lives? Who will teach them to see shades of gray? Who can open eyes closed tightly shut? Don’t judge, don’t expect, don’t accuse, don’t talk if you cannot also listen. Take the Writer's Block challenge HERE. 
Holy crap. I'm done. It's done. November is done. The story is not done. Not completely. But it's 50,000 words farther along than it was on October 31. Wow. For all those moments I thought I could not finish, I thank my writing buddy Saturn Cat. Since our first quarter of college together, when we both enrolled in the same fiction-writing class, she has been an inspiration. Definitely more writing than me in the past few years, she lets me just sit back and enjoy her words when I can't come up with any of my own. But she's the first one to say "Go!" when I'm ready to pick up a pen again. So, here I sit. Ready to lay down the pen for a few days. Looking forward to more writing and a LOT of editing. Sweetie left today for a work trip - first to California, then Pennsylvania. I hope the weather is not too wretched for him. He did call me after midnight (California time) and he asked me what my word count was. He said "Your father would be proud"....that I wrote about him. I said "I don't know. Dad was a private person." So, most of the words may never go out for public consumption. But I'm glad I did it. And, I did what any good writer would do. I called up my writing buddy, screamed a big "Congrats!" at her (she had already e-mailed the same). Opened a bottle of champagne. Had a glass (or two). And watched about 5 episodes of Buffy (Season 7). Can't get more inspirational than that!
I loved the latest pep talk from our fearless leader, Chris Baty, over at NaNoWriMo. He wrote the following a couple of days ago. Go writers! "Rally Week is that part of late November when those of us who have lost our novels to distractions find the threads of our stories, put the pedal to the metal, and begin the heroic comeback that will hurl us across the finish line by December 1. Yesterday I had my first 5,000-word day. Today will be my second. By Tuesday, I'm looking forward to hitting 40K. When I know I'll catch my first earful of that ineffable roar in the distance. That sound is like nothing else in the world. It's the tumult from the NaNoWriMo finish line---the cheering and clapping of hundreds of thousands of our friends, family, and supporters who have gathered there to celebrate our achievement. One month ago, we told them we'd be heading out on this crazy journey. Now they've come to watch us complete it. The champagne is chilling. The crowds are growing. And every hour or so, your friends and believers are checking that place on the horizon where you'll first come into view. When you arrive there---for me it happens at 45K---the roar will roll out and engulf you. You'll be tired, yes. But at that point, their cheers will carry you home. We told them we'd do it. Now let's go get it done. "
For Dad - I'm doing some research while working on my NaNoWriMo novel (novella, story, memoir, what have you). My father told me, before he died, that he was going to embrace the moon. Like Chinese poet Li Po (aka Li Bai). For Li Po, and for my father - to embrace the moon is to die. I had heard the story of Li Po from my father, but I had never read the poem. Apparently, there are many translations of "Drinking Alone in the Moonlight." Thanks to this good site, I have been able to read several. Here is one, which I dedicate to Dad. I hope you all had a warm and wonderful Thanksgiving yesterday - hopefully, with good family and loved ones to share. Drinking Alone Under the Moon by Li Po (701-762) Alone among the flowers with a jug of wine,
Without a single friend to drink with me,
I lift my glass and invite the bright moon to come
Join in—now the moon, my shadow and I make three.
I know the moon is not a famous drinker,
My shadow's toast no more than mimicry,
And yet for a little while the three of us
Carouse in springtime camaraderie.
I sing, and the moon sways to and fro in rhythm;
I dance, and my shadow floats in harmony.
Drinking, we share our joys with one another;
After, we'll need to find them separately.
Let's meet again, at the end of the Silver River,
And there, my friends, resume our revelry!
Well, ok. So it's true that everyone currently participating in NaNoWriMo got the same pep talk e-mail from this week's author - and that happened to be Neil Gaiman. Who just happens to be one of my favorite authors of all time. But hey - who else got as excited as I did when I saw his name in my in-box??? Well, ok - maybe the few thousand other NaNo participants who list Neil Gaiman as one of their favorite authors. But hey - who else got as excited as I did who is also on a personal mission to portray all seven of the Sandman Endless for Halloween by the time she turns 60? Yup. That would be me. And I would like to celebrate the halfway mark! I hit over 25,000 words today. Which is only about 4,000 words short of where I am supposed to be today. And I really can't think ahead too much. Because I feel like I've already written most of what I wanted to write when I started. But I am only halfway through. Right now, I sit at the computer - start a thread of the story and literally let my brain and fingers go where they want - without trying to think about it too much. I guess I've reached that point where the story has a life of its own. It's a bit of an odd feeling. I open the Word file - not quite sure what I am going to write, but I know that - somehow - a great many words will come out. And usually - after an hour of typing - I feel like I have much more to say. Funny how novel writing works, isn't it?
 Howdy Folks! It is the eve of NaNoWriMo! Are you ready!? What? You ask "What is NaNuNaNu?, or NaMoNaMo? or.....what?" It's easy. It stands for National Novel Writing Month. It is a challenge to writers - Think of an idea you have for a novel. Start writing on November 1 - don't worry about editing, perfecting, etc. Just *write.* Write 50,000 words by November 30. There is no prize. There is no big hoopla. There is just a supportive community of writers who are all reaching for the same goal of 50,000 words in one month. Easy, right?! Well, that depends on where your novel takes you during the month. Some people are hurtled towards 50,000 words in no time. Some (such as me last year) don't quite reach that goal, but do manage to make great headway on novel ideas that have been rattling around in her brain since.......well......since Michael Jackson's music was good. For me, NaNoWriMo was a success last year - despite my less-than-50,000-word-count - because of the progress I made on one of my favorite story ideas. You can sign up at www.nanowrimo.org. You can also see all the other authors who have signed up. You can follow the daily word counts. And, once writers start posting excerpts, you can read many many many novel excerpts from writers, as they are being written! A word of caution - as always, the start of NaNo is a little crazy, so the website may be bogged down the next couple of days. But keep trying! So now - my confession. I'm cheating a little bit this year. I'm writing a fictionalized memoir. This is a no-no for strict constructionist-NaNo participants. They argue that memoirs are not novels and should not be written during NaNo, and people who write 50,000 words of a memoir don't deserve to be declared "winners" of NaNo.
Well, this year, I say PHhhhttttttt!!!! to that. I have a story that I really want to write down. It is based on the things my family went through during my father's cancer diagnosis, treatment, and (ultimately) death, starting a couple of years ago. It is something I have been wanting to write about, but have not yet taken the time to write. So, it is something I will explore during the month of November. In the meantime, I will be updating my word count over on NaNo. If some people think this is inappropriate, they can ignore me. There is already a group of people who are supporting the Memoir genre, and it's nice to know I'm not alone in this pursuit. The goal is to get me writing, and since I definitely don't think Blog entries count, I'm going to write about what is rattling around in my brain. That's good enough for me. What are you waiting for? Go sign up! P.S. - if you are a NaNo participant and want to be a writing buddy - look me up - under....you guessed it.....Stone Girl.
The Invitation You are cordially invited to attend a Formal Ball in honor of those who have departed. This invite is extended to you and one guest of your choice. Choose wisely. Those dearest may not be the wisest. Date and Time: From tomorrow until your sunset. The Ball is only open after dark. Best found on a new moon. Directions:
Leave the comforts of your home. Turn away from the lights in your windows and walk towards the dark. Pass through the forest until the branches are bare. Walk until you feel them scratch against your arm and the drip, drip, drip of damp from the tops of the sentinel trees. Walk until the grass becomes mud and the clouded sky obscures the moon. Walk until you can no longer see. Stop. Wait for the flash of violet lightning. Proceed across the driveway to the house steps and walk up. Do not turn around but continue up. No need to bring the invitation. Your name will open the front gates. Refreshments will be provided. Spirits in abundance. Special appearances to be made by:
Those who Death has touched already Someone you do not know Someone you remember Someone who forgot you Neil Gaiman (invited, but not confirmed) Party Games To be Decided Dress accordingly. Join the Writer's Block Challenge HERE.
I'll blog about it again once we get closer to the start date. But for now - I'm there! I'm ready! May insanity ensue! Whatwhatwhat? Check it out HERE.
Foolish men. Foolish women. You have so much. Why do you ask for more? . Foolish man Fallible woman. Why seek the moon, when you have the shore? . Each grain of sand is yours to hold. The waves thunder for your ears alone. . Yet you would walk the desert heat. For one more grain, your greed would roam. . When will you learn your own true value? When will you revel on your own ground? . Stop looking away. Stop thinking of tomorrow. Stop searching outside and you will be found.
I talked to my mom on the phone a little bit last night. Besides being the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, it was also the anniversary of my parentsâ wedding day. It was MomâÂÂs first anniversary since DadâÂÂs death in June. We talked a little bit and she held up quite well until the end of our conversation when I said âÂÂI love you Mom.â Then, she started to cry, and I started to cry, and we both released some good tears and pent-up sadness. Not that mine is really pent up. I still cry on a regular basis when I think about my father and the difficult last few weeks of his life. Or I cry thinking about wonderful memories that we shared together. Heck, my sweetie and I were driving around a while ago and, when I heard one old-timey song that Dad used to sing to me, I promptly burst into tears in the middle of our conversation. IâÂÂm not the repressor of emotions I used to be. As I watched the news coverage of the Pearl Harbor ceremonies, I also thought about how DadâÂÂs death was yet one more loss of a WWII veteran. Here in Hawaii, the dayâÂÂs events are pretty significant and get a lot of respect and coverage. But many of the men who attended the ceremonies who were military survivors of the attack on December 7, 1941 stated this may be their last visit to the site. They mentioned how old they are getting, and how the trip gets more difficult every year. Organizers remarked how the make-up of attendance has changed. How the men used to come by themselves, but now they come accompanied by many family members. But many of them still do not talk much about the attack, or their subsequent service in the war. IâÂÂve written before about the loss of these past soldiers. My father rarely talked about his service, but it was something he was immensely proud of. After he was diagnosed last August, I went to a book store, bought a large map of the world, grabbed some pens, drove to Mom and DadâÂÂs house, and told my father âÂÂRight. Now show me everywhere you went when you were in the Navy in World War II.â And, thank my stars, he did. Almost two entire trips around the world, and stops on almost every continent. He didnâÂÂt elaborate too much on what went on in between all the ports of call. But at least I now have a little piece of my fatherâÂÂs history in a notebook and an ink-stained map. I think it meant something to him that I know it. It certainly means a lot to me.
 You Know Me You know me I'm the high school football star without a scholarship who finished college. I'm the daughter of the soldier-son of a soldier. I'm the father who went back to the battlefield, with my two sons. I'm the doctor, The mechanic, The pilot, Who sought to serve more than just an employer. . I was right outside your door. I sold you Girl Scout cookies. I dated your daughter. I pushed my stroller past your window with leash in hand, loved ones in sight. I shopped, I walked, I mowed, I said goodbye to routine and safe slumber. . You remember me. But do you know where I am today?
I am not outside your door. The traces of my voice are too far away for you to hear. The pain I see is too much for you to imagine. The reasons and whys don't matter as much as the whos and wheres. I am dirty. I am hot. I am loyal and strong. And I want the same thing you yearn for: To share your door once again. . Writers' Block Challenge is HERE. This is my first try.
...I actually do have plenty of spare moments during the day. It's more like - my brain is SO scattered, I can't seem to sit down and write anything. And I have some deep and meaningful thoughts in my head, believe me. I also have random and unmeaningful thoughts in my head. It's all there. Rattling around. It must be humid right now. It's really not that hot, but I cannot stop sweating. I feel like a sweaty, smelly lump. How nice. Can I just say - as I'm working on so many wedding details....I am soooo happy Sweetie and I scheduled a honeymoon. We lollygagged for a looong time on that one. We were thinking we'd like to do a big international trip - maybe New Zealand. Maybe Switzerland and France. We talked about postponing the honeymoon until we could plan a big trip next year. Then, I told him - we need to just plan something for right after the wedding. There is a chance that, if we wait until next year, nothing will get planned. Also, I think we would really regret it if we didn't take some time off right after the wedding. So, we agreed on a place, I took charge and planned the whole trip. We are taking a shortish trip to Yellowstone. And we have our itinerary all laid out and our reservations made. And, as I frazzle around getting ready for the wedding, I keep picturing myself doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in gorgeous Yellowstone National Park. And boy - that is a very soothing thought. Very nice. Can't wait. Calgon, take me awaaaay.
There are no answers to fruitless questions. Who is the fool who asks? Why do we not know how to change?
Why canâÂÂt pride be swallowed for the sake of another? DonâÂÂt cry because monoliths cannot move. DonâÂÂt scream because the stars follow the same pattern. Did you throw a pebble in your pool and expect a ripple to form? Do you not know that deep waters will swallow you whole. Did you drop a crumb and think to find your way home? Did you not learn to think for yourself. Did you look for yourself in the heart of another? Do you not see that you are whole. When do we lose ourselves? When do I regain me?
 Howdy folks. Well, the month of November is almost complete. My novel, alas, is not. Today, I was at a mere 12,674 words of the 50,000 needed. But never fear! I will continue writing this story into the next few months. I am very happy with the story progression, and IâÂÂm just glad I have finally worked on a very old idea. I uploaded another excerpt today, and IâÂÂll try and make a good effort on my word count in the next couple of days. NaNoWriMo was a good push for me to write more in my spare time. I sometimes feel like I donâÂÂt have a very good fiction âÂÂvoice.â Then I forget how much I just like to participate in fiction writing, for the creative side of it. I used to spend much more time engaging my creative brain, and I think I just need to re-train it. This has been a fun month to write, and IâÂÂm glad I signed up. Next year, 50,000!!
As I mentioned last, I have signed up for NaNoWriMo to try and motivate my creative-writing brain cells. The idea of creating a 50,000-word novel in 30 days is not a unique concept. For my movie-making friends, there are 24-hour and 48-hour movieathon weekends. As IâÂÂve heard tell, highly motivated (and caffeinated) moviemakers meet together. They are usually given several props that need to make it into the film - such as a random object or a line of dialogue. They are then sent on their way to script, shoot, and edit a film in a very short timeframe. Now *that* is a lot of work, in my opinion. And then there is February Album Writing Month. For you musicians out there, the challenge from FAWM is to write and record 14 songs in 28 days. Again, it is mostly up to the honor system that folks are providing original content that is prepared only within this timeframe. Folks can post their songs as they go, and they get good feedback from fellow musicians who are going through the same agony. They also get feedback from regular folks - happy fans like me. As most of you know, our good friend (and one of my favorite songwriters) Joshua Schramm produced an album with songs he completed during his FAWM marathon. Appropriately entitled âÂÂFebruaryâÂÂ, I think itâÂÂs a good testament to how these creative challenges can help writers and musicians create great work via quick brain dumps.
It's a hard thing, sometimes, when you're a person not used to sharing tons of emotions. And hard when you know people who know you read your blog. Writing can be a great catharsis. And sharing and gaining information is, I think, one of the great advantages of this digital age. And I imagine I'm one of the more boring blogs because, hey I'm just me and this is often just day-to-day stuff. But that's the reason why I started this blog. I was moving away from my family and friends and thought this would be a fun way to update multiple people at one time. And a good way to jump-start any form of writing, which I had been sadly neglecting for a long time. And don't get me wrong. I love to write. And I strive to try and understand other people. And myself. It's a goal worth a lifetime of work. But when it comes to negative stuff, I think "How much can I write?" I tend to write non-specifically. I don't want to worry people. And I don't want to give off impressions that are overly negative. A lot of the woes around here are everyday run-of-the-mill stuff. But once I start writing, there's no stopping me. And I think that's ok. Because, you know what? This is who I am. A person who can stop and smell the flowers and laugh. And a person who can overreact, or over analyze, or worry too much. That's just who I am. To pretend that I'm not, or worry about giving off a bad impression.....well, that's probably ok in blogland because no one will call us on it. But I figure I can be open sometimes. And I hope I don't overstep, or hurt anyone, or cause confusion. If I do, call me on it, ok?
Ruination in the guise of a Girl.
Ruination in the guise of a Girl.
The forms are probably not all correct, but I had fun writing them, so here you go. For your Christmas Day enjoyment: My Christmas Haikus Christmas dinner done I sit like a stuffed turkey Why so much to eat? Nephews like the gifts Joy to watch their faces light Christmas is enhanced I sit amidst wrap Thoughtful, fun, pretty, perfect What a fat bounty! Yucky clothes to wear Lion staff, remote car best Those fickle youngâÂÂuns! Family, neighbors, Calls from round the world to say Merry Christmas Day!
Chilly day, cold house bundle up with new spa socks âÂÂChristmas Storyâ on!
Because I can't seem to finish one task today. Because my brain is not working in a completely linear fashion. And, just because. Melancholy Days are sun-filled, Yet mind fills with clouds. When thoughts swirl so quickly The inner silence is loud. Melancholy baby is not just a song to sing, Moods can be read with something more than a ring. Memoriesâ flood is swifter than water, Food for the brain becomes anxietyâÂÂs fodder. Turn to music to clear the fog, But Sting reminds me how Fragile we are. Communication allows us to learn about humankind, But where do we go to understand our own minds?
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