Thursday, March 20, 2014


Saints and angels.

I actually did some writing today.  A little bit.

So, here's what's been going on:

First off, First Trimester at Carey:

Intro to Criminlogy -A.

Child Psychology -A

Psychology of Addiction -C

3.6 GPA

Second Trimester

Criminal Investigation -B

Evidence, Search, and Seizure -A

Abnormal Psychology -A

Cumulative GPA - 3.2  (Remember, my 5th semester at Gulf Coast, I screwed up, so I gotta make up my GPA big time...)

Okay, now you're up-to-date on for the real reason for this post:

I was going to post a long review about Frozen, but I suck at reviews.

As it:  I like it.  Disney hit the high points.  Music is good.  Like Tangled and Brave, Frozen took on the new title format.

It makes me think back to my previous posts on "The Snow Queen."  The old blog parts and the Christian analysis.  Did Frozen do the story justice?  Sort of.  It's a gut-and-remodel, but it's a fine story.  I separate the two in my head.  Still, good story, good story.

Speaking of, Easter is coming, as I'm wont to remind people.  I always do a Christian-y, spiritual post.  It's Tradition.  I have some inklings of ideas, but I don't have anything definitive.  Anyway...

The Devil's Mirror

Gerda's Love

Kai's Eternity

Sunday, March 16, 2014

When writing, sit up straight.

When writing, sit up straight.

You’re making your own world, and it needs someone who sits up straight.  Don’t write the story the outside world deserves.  Be the writer your created world deserves.  You love this creation of yours, don’t you?  You want what’s best for these characters.  You’ve thrown them into hell to make them stronger so they can face anything or die trying, haven’t you?

Fine.  They may not know you in the intimate ways you know them.  They may never see your face or hear your voice.  You may never meet them face to face (and if you do, perhaps you should worry) but they are yours.

When writing, sit up straight.

It may not be the most comfortable position.  It is tiring and you might even get sore after a while.  You may want to slouch and slump or huddle over the keyboard.

Don’t.  If writing were comfortable, it would not be worthwhile.  A king’s throne is never comfortable.  While you are allowed your soft office chair at your lush desk, do not slouch back in the seat.  You are not meant to be comfortable.

When writing, sit up straight.

You are a creator, a dreamer, a thinker, a marvel.  In having a taste of playing god, you understand how hard being God is.  You understand the relationship between creator and creation better than most.

Make.  You were made in the image of a Maker.  Who heard the voices of the gods?  The poet.  Who kept the stories of the people?  The bard.  Who called the village to the fire to sit and listen? The storyteller.

When writing, sit up straight.

Do not get arrogant.  You’re fool to a fickle muse.  Your road is hard and the journey long.  Listen to the masters, to those who have gone before you.  Never stop looking for anything.

Learn.  You are a novice, no matter how long you’ve been at this.  You will never be an expert.  There is no peak.  You can always go a little higher than before.

When writing, sit up straight.

Monday, March 10, 2014

Taking a Step Back

I neither have work nor school today, tomorrow, or Wednesday.

So, I should really be using this time for books and writing.  A lot of writing.  Like 5k/day writing and reading a book a day.  Right?


Haven't read much, or written.  I did manage 600 words typed and some handwritten pages, and I wrote 1k last night, which I'm not proud of because it's a lot of irrelevant crap.

But really, I know better.  I know me.  My most productive times are at night.  Want to write?  Wait till almost before bed.  Want to read?  A book will calm my mind down before bed--unless I finish it, in which case it will go into overdrive.  It is folly to try to go to sleep after finishing a book.  It ain't happening.

It seems so much of my time is spent preparing for bed.

I did get book 3 of Dragon Kin.  Awesome, as expected.  I've been dragging my feet with the next one.  Really, it's a lot of sit down, shut up, and read.

But I want to write, not read.  It doesn't matter when I start/finish the book, as long as I get my day's K for the day so I can put it on my calendar...

But really, as it is useless to lay down when you just can't sleep, it is useless to just sit at the computer straining my already crappy eyes for the fickle muse.

So, I should be reading.  Reading is still good.  Reading works the brain muscles.

But my calendar for March with my daily progresses really sucks.  So far, there have only been 2 days when I got a K down.  Some handwriting days, some blogposts, and 2 books.


I hit scut months.  I know how I am, again.  I'm hitting my scut months where very little writing is going to get done.

No, no, no.  That cycle ends now.

Something's got to give, here, people.

Friday, March 7, 2014

Loss of Momentum

I've hit a block since Tuesday.  I did some writing and read Fahrenheit 451 that day, but the days on my calendar look blank.  No marks of any kind on there except whether or not it's a class day or a work day or anything like that.

I haven't read anything, or haven't finished anything, but I know I haven't been reading much.  And I haven't been writing.

Some of it is laziness.   Okay, most of it is laziness.  And the rest is writer's block, which is its own kind of laziness.

My mind is a bit of a bouncy house.  I can spend hours in my own head, playing stuff out.  Sometimes it's productive, and I figure Story out.  Part of it is just me being me, and imagining a bunch of stuff that can happen in real life.  Part of it is mental planning for a presentation I have to do.

As I said, I can spend hours inside my own head.  Sometimes about something, other times about nothing at all, and it's hard to come back up again.

Have you ever been lost in your own mind?  You'd think I'd know my way around by now.  There's some familiar pathways, but when I start a new thread, heaven help me.

I got some Ben and Jerry's yesterday.

The problem, dearies, is that I don't deserve Ben and Jerry's.

I haven't been writing or reading or studying (well, I HAVE been trying to do my reading and my school work stuff).  I've mostly been wasting time around on the Internet if I haven't been trying to nap or if I wasn't at work or at school.

Next week is my spring break.  For me it started really, on Wednesday night, and I don't have to be in class again until the 17th.  However, "break" is relative, as I still have to work.  I don't hate my job like Squidward, because I do generally have a good attitude at work and I am good with the customers because I keep my rage on the inside, and I'm an introvert in a retail setting and oh-my-god, I need to finish school so I can get a job that isn't retail, or I need to write my book and sell it so I can say I'm a published author and that's my job and I don't have to deal with people...

Really, though, you can't get by without dealing with people.  I mean, I'm a psychology major.  Unless I go into the research field, that's a lot of dealing with people.  And their problems.  But considering I like the stories I hear, and think I can do that, and maybe even do it well, it won't be as bad.  The circumstances are different and all that.

Unfortunately, there are7 billion people in the world.  You have to interact with at least a million of them throughout your life.  Or maybe just a thousand or so.  I don't know.  I wouldn't dare list all of the people I've interacted with or just been in the same room with since I was born.  Frankly, I don't care.

 People are there.  Some are annoying.  Some are fascinating. 

But back to writer's block.  It's a special kind of laziness where I hit something and am delaying figuring out how I'm going to do this.  I mean, I know the short of what's going to happen.  I know the plotline, the stakes, and all that.  What I don't know is this particular scene.  What on earth was I thinking?  And all that jazz.

As far as the reading, I know what that is.  The heart wants what it wants.  I'm waiting on book 3 of Dragon Kin to make it to my door so I can gobble it up, and then read the rest of the series.  It's like the High Heels books from a few years back.

I need the next one.  I need the next one.  I need the next one.

Same with last year's Dresden Files.  Perfect pick-me-up.  Now, I'm kind of itching to start the next Cal Leandros book, and I will.  But I never start in the morning, and it's not the kind of book I want to read at night and all that...

Anyway, the heart wants what it wants.  I don't want to start any new books, because of the number of books on my currently-reading shelf, but I want to read these, and I don't feel like reading those right now...

You ever hear of book slut?  As much as I hate the term "slut," it's really fitting.  I always have a bunch of books going at once.  There's always one that I always go back to, and others that I speed right through and then just place back on the shelf.  Yes, book slut indeed.  Unfaithful, unstable reader that is me.

Bibliosexual needs to be a real term, in modern usage.  Sexually attracted to book characters, or just attracted.  You know you have been.

::cue Google search::

Regardless, I think this is just a rough spot.  February was a good month for me.  I probably just need a good mental break or something.  Or a mental breakdown.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going have a scoop of Ben and Jerry's, and then need to finish getting ready for work.

Note:  'bibliosexual' is in the Urban Dictionary, after a quick Google search.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Burning the Books?

The other day, I was wandering the book section of one of the local secondhand places.  I found a tightly-bound, pretty (in the sense it was like new condition) paperback of Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.  I'm classics-illiterate, but I picked it up.  It was such a lovely copy, and I didn't have it, and I probably couldn't find it free online (not pre-1929, therefore not public domain).

I never found a spot for it, and it just sat on my desk.  It's there now.

I picked it up today, and read it before class.  I was almost finished, and if class hadn't started when it did, I would have finished it.  No matter.  As soon as I got home, I read the last 2 pages, the Afterword, and the Coda.

Oh my gosh, it's about burning books?  Words cannot describe the distress I felt about such an abomination.  I love books.  I don't care if I don't agree what's in them.

Authors put their heart and their soul into their writing.  When you burn a book, it's like you're burning their soul.  How dare you!  And Montag enjoyed it in the beginning!

The book's been around awhile, and I won't begin to describe it, or the literary implications or anything like that.  Odds are, you know all that already, and I'm the one late to the game.

Here is what I'll say on the matter, as a young wannabe bibliophile who's read this classic for the first time:

1 - It has a better ending than 1984, which I hated.

2 - It is one of the few classics I've read on my own.  I haven't read a lot of classics, and most of those were because of school.  And besides Candide and some Shakespeare, I don't always like them.  S'why I'm no longer an English major.

3 - I actually liked it.  Not in a "oh my gosh, you have to read this right now if you haven't" kind of way, but in a quiet, "I'm glad I read it, it was worth the heartache" kind of way.  A quiet affection for it.  And that's one more classic I can say I've read, and rarer, a classic I can say I liked and didn't just respect.  I will probably never re-read Pride and Prejudice, but I might re-read Fahrenheit 451 one day.

4 - That book has some flowery language.  Gracious me, wow.  It was kind of annoying, but once you get used to it, it's really rather lovely.

And I still gotta find a place for it, somewhere.  It needs a home somewhere in the shelves...

Forgotten Books, Empty Stacks, and The New Normal?

NOTE:  I arrived early at Carey yesterday, as always, and did my reading, and then I started to draft a blog post for my day's writing.  Words cannot describe just how much I want to just take pictures of the pages, and paste those in here.  But it needs editing and placement stuff, so here it is all nice and neat and typed.

Whilst I was at Perk, I always spent time in the stacks (see here, here, here).  In the old library, there were two levels.  The bottom level was where the computers and reference books were.  This is where most of the library's patrons stayed.

Then, on either side of the bottom level, were the top levels.  On the left side was A-P (Library of Congress system), and on the other side, Q-Z.

On the A-P side, there were the cubby desks with the power outlets for a laptop or phone charger.  On the Q-Z side, there was another row of the cubby desks, and a comfy leather couch it wasn't uncommon to find someone napping on.

I probably spent as much time in the library as I did in class.  I would always get there early, and sit and read or write, or just wander the stacks.  More often than not, I would be alone on the upper level.  Nobody knew I was up there, and I didn't care about the people down on the first level on the computers.  I had a few "spots" where I'd on the floor, against the wall, and read or write.  It wasn't comfortable, but it was comforting being around so many books.

It didn't matter that I'd never read them, and some I never touched.  They were there, just waiting to be picked up.  By someone.  Anyone.

I had similar experiences at the JD library for my semester there, although it wasn't the same.

The Perk library has a new building and setup now.  I'm kind of glad I'm done there, because it's just not the same.

The William Carey University, Tradition campus, where I go, has 14 cubby desks, 10 with computers/4 without, and 12 long double-sided shelves.

Nobody wanders the stacks.  I did, my first few times.  I didn't find an out-of-the-way spot, and I found even less of interest.  It's a Christian school, options are limited.  There weren't many patrons, and most of those are at computers.

Despite the lack of books, I'm saddened to see nobody perusing the shelves of books, meager though they be.  Although, some of that could be due to the fact it's a non-traditional campus (ironically situated outside the outskirts of Tradition, MS).  A lot of the students (and I mean over 50% of them) are back-to-school type students.  Older, mostly a lot of married ones with kids, and the like.  I'm a minority.

Or maybe it's because I'm working toward my Bachelor's and the lifestyle changes somewhere between sophomore and junior year of college.  Although, I'm not certain grey hair is one of those changes...

My point is, I'm still living at home, mooching off my parents, and I sit in classrooms full of adults.  I don't consider myself an adult.  I work and pay 3-4 bills, and my gas, and go to school.  I know squat about insurances and taxes, how to make a budget, and all that important stuff grups have to worry about (and I've been capping off most nights with an episode of the old 60s Star Trek--my last episode was "Miri).

I'm 21.  I watch Disney movies while drinking (although I haven't drank in a while now).  I'm having the best time of my life right now, or trying to.  However, one day, pretty soon, I will have to consider myself an adult, and act like one, and try to be a contributing member to society.

Hopefully though, I get a few more young-and-stupid years.  However a lot of people I went to school with, or are my age, are having kids and getting married, and I'm just here going to school, working, and reading and writing.

My one real foray into adulthood is working a job I hate.  Sometimes.  It makes me glad I don't want to be anything really other than a writer, because I'm certain I'd blow my brains out if I tried to make a career out of anything else.

Which brings me full circle.  There aren't many readers in Mississippi.  And if there are, where the heck are they?  I mean, I know they're there--Gulfport and Hattiesburg can actually support the bookstores, but there's got to be proper-age college students that read somewhere.

For my next college (because despite what I say about the I'm-only-a-writer-thing, I do want to be Dr. Jadi), I am looking for a grad school that has a good library and a town with a lot of readers.  And the places, I guess, with a good psychology program.

There's something depressing about an ignored library.  Unfortunately, that's Mississippi for you.  Not that I'm bashing my state.  Yes, we're one of the poorest, but we are the most charitable.  That's saying something.

Just not good enough for me to want to stay.  I don't think it's wrong for me to want to be with people I actually have stuff in common with.