I'm Not Nice

There is a certain cynicism that comes with growing up in church.  Or maybe that's just me, because I grew up in church and grew up in a legalistic home and now I'm picking up the shards of my broken faith and trying to piece together something akin to a spirituality.

Today was not the first time I've heard the Gospel (thank you, Brennan Manning).  I think it was the first time I heard it from a pulpit though.

....  

I will be 24 my next birthday.  I have grown up in church.  Why is this the first time?

I have accepted that the Church had made many mistakes.  That I have made plenty more.

I will hold myself accountable for my mistakes.  I will not go easy on the Church for theirs.

I think this boils down to:

I have a lot of resentment against the Church.  I need to forgive the Church, and my family, for wrongs, real or otherwise, done against me.  No one's perfect, and these people never claimed to be.

Fair enough.

Candid, Candide, and the Candidates

“Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her; but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cars in order to win the game.”
― Voltaire, Candide

Oh, this road has been long and hard.

“I have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love with life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our more stupid melancholy propensities, for is there anything more stupid than to be eager to go on carrying a burden which one would gladly throw away, to loathe one’s very being and yet to hold it fast, to fondle the snake that devours us until it has eaten our hearts away?”

1) We started going to church again. I am not taking back anything I've said about the Church. I will not apologize for observations or feelings. I will not pretty up the damage growing up in church with legalistic influences has done. I've had to find my way back, and that's iffy at best.

He wanted to know how they prayed to God in El Dorado.

"We do not pray to him at all," said the reverend sage. "We have nothing to ask of him. He has given us all we want, and we give him thanks continually.”

If for some odd reason your pastor decides to preach from Candide, this is the part where he'd say, "We need to have an El Dorado attitude!"

2) I'm still unemployed (walked out of my job nearly 2 months ago). I had a dream I went back to work where I walked out, and the reasons I quit were still there. No lie. In the dream, nothing had changed. Perhaps it was better to stay there? Or to leave? Whatever, no going back!

“Work keeps at bay three great evils: boredom, vice, and need.”

3) Reading's still okay.

“For my part I read only to please myself and like only what suits my taste.”

4) Writing's been bad.

“A great work must be novel without being far-fetched, frequently sublime, but always natural. The author must know the human heart, and how to make it speak; he must be a poet, without letting any of his characters speak like poets; and he must be a master of his language, using it purely and harmoniously and not letting the rhyme interfere with the sense.”

5) Oh yeah, and on a larger level, American politics has reached an all new level of low: Pissing contest for the ages!

“In every province, the chief occupations, in order of importance, are lovemaking, malicious gossip, and talking nonsense.”

I'm sure I've mentioned it before: Candide is probably my favorite classic. Because I can give my blogpost a proper commentary with quotes from that slim treasure.


This is the world God created, therefore it is the best of all possible worlds. And everything happens for the best in this best of all possible worlds.

I would have that in quotation marks as well, but I can't seem to find it either on Goodreads or my own pretty copy of the book. At least, not in so many words.

In light of Point 1, looking at Point 5, and thinking back to things I've said:

1) God appoints.  Guess what, Christians? WE, THUS FAR, HAVE SURVIVED OBAMA.

2) If Jesus said He would be there until the end of the world, do you believe it or not? I don't recall Him saying it was easy. He just said He'd be there.

3) Jesus also said somewhere not to worry about tomorrow.

I find this sound advice when it comes to American politics.

(I also think if I read my Bible as much as I looked up Candide quotes, maybe I'd be better off. Or maybe not, because this is the first time in a long time I played on Goodreads quotes.)

At the end of the day, I have no control over what happens. If I don't have control over it, I don't want to worry about it. At the end of the day, it gets filed under "Not My Problem."

I try to file as many things as possible under "Not My Problem."

I did not ask to be born. I did not ask for most of what's going on in this world. Don't believe what our generation is like? Go on Tumblr.

I do have to live in this world. Come hell or high water, I do have to live here until a new one is created. I will live here. I will have a good attitude about it.

Fine! I will try to have a good attitude about it.

“All that is very well," answered Candide, "but let us cultivate our garden.”

My Little Grief

I'm moving in with Lacey after I finish this trimester. I've turned in a quasi-notice at work, not written, but verbal, and got some cigarette boxes, and will be getting more, to move my books in.

I left my internship site a little early Friday, because nothing was really happening. I derped around for a few hours, and then I picked up and left for her town.

It was a nice visit, and we got the apartment semi-ready for my moving in. I wasn't terribly impressed with Columbus, but I really have my eye on Tupelo anyway. Columbus, living with my BFF, is just a temporary thing. I love her, she's my sister from another mister, but she's used to having her own place-and-space, and I want my own place-and-space.

All the same, she's looking forward to me living with her, and so am I.

But...

I got back home at 6 last evening. As I was laying in bed, it occurred to me that soon this wouldn't be my home anymore. I've lived in this house 16 years, most of my short life, and soon it wouldn't be my home anymore and I would be all the way up in Columbus, MS, and this wouldn't be my home anymore...

I didn't cry. I don't cry. But damn if I didn't feel like it.

It's the next stage in my life, moving out of my parents' house, getting a full time job that's NOT retail, and making my own home, and hopefully looking for a boyfriend...

New beginnings mean there's an ending to get through. I'm a sucker for a happy ending, and if I've learned nothing else from book series, it's that endings hurt a little. You're happy for the happily ever afters, but it took a lot of pain to get there. Also, the endings are always a little sad. There's a new normal to adjust to.

It's not too late to back out, but I said I'd go, and I'm going. I'm cutting the apron strings.

And hope I don't scream for my momma when all my shit's up there and the moving truck leaves.

Jadi and the Diffuser, Part 1

My shiny new blow-dryer with diffuser came in through the UPS today.

I was so excited, I wanted to use it.  The heat-protectant I bought said to use on partially towel-dryed hair.

So, I got in the shower, did my usual routine, and then put the turban on for a couple minutes.

And when I took the towel off, my hair was partially dry, but not completely dry, so I put on the blow dryer with diffuser...

And I have no idea what I'm doing.  I realized that early on, and quit.

To Google!

We will try again tomorrow, after I've looked this stuff up.

The Valentine's Day Post: Cynical Rants and Romantic Dreams

I'm single on Valentine's Day.

I know, it's such a big shocker.

As someone who's been single, been ignored by the male of the species for most of my life, and really waved off by a lot of people, called weird, whatever, I'm kinda just like:

"Screw you!"

I haven't spent so much time alone to just want to spend time with just anyone.  Forget wanting a boyfriend, I don't even think I want any more friends if they're not readers or writers or someone I can talk about BBC shows with.

But, since this is Valentine's Day:

If I ask if he likes Stephen Lawhead, and he doesn't respond by quoting Taliesin, The Skin Map, or some other romantic passage from one of his books, I don't want to date him.

If he won't geek out over the Dresden Files (or any Jim Butcher book for that matter) with me, I don't want to date him.

If he won't cuddle on the couch and watch something with me--be it Doctor Who, Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit movies, or reruns of some show on Netflix--I don't want to date him.

If he doesn't show up at my door wearing a kilt just to make my day (because I am shamelessly obsessed with guys in kilts), I don't want to date him.

If he's going to call me weird, tell me I need help, call me crazy, or anything that I've had to hear before, I don't want to date him.  

(Note:  Those would be grounds for breaking up.  Those are grounds for freaking murder.  Call me crazy, you gon see crazy!)

I'm tired of hearing those things.  I hate being called weird.  I hate being told I'm not playing with a full deck.  I hate being called crazy.  I know people don't mean it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.  Quit talking to me like there's something wrong with me.

So, yeah, I can be lonely single, or I can be lonely with the wrong person.  If I'm lonely by myself, at least I can do whatever I want.

Yeah, yeah, I want a boyfriend and husband and all that.  But I also want to get out of Mississippi one day as well.  I mean, I really really really want out.  And so there's nothing holding me back, the less entanglements, the better.

That's another thing.  Given the amount of teen pregnancy in MS, I'm glad I never dated in high school.  I don't have to be a young single mother.  I'm just a young single.  I'm graduating in May with a bachelor's.  I'm getting an education.  I can get out of this little podunk town.

I mean, Stone County wasn't a bad place to grow up, but now that I am a 20-something,  and there is no liquor store because it's a dry county, no Sally's (and I have curly hair, so this is really inconvenient), no bookstore (and I'm convinced the whole freaking town is illiterate), barely any jobs (I know I have one, but I want a better one after graduation), I REALLY DON'T WANT TO STAY HERE!

And I don't have to.  I shouldn't have to.

And of course, this is my theme song.  Don't judge me.

August in Review

Books Read:  5  Books on the Currently Reading Shelf on Goodreads:  14 (but I have more that I have bookmarks in that I didn't mark on Goodreads.   Approximate Word Count: ~1500 --if that many
  Bad month.  Really, really, really bad month.  My birthday ended it on a high note.  The good thing about keeping track of this, however, is that I'm seeing where my reading and writing cycles go.  I have a general idea, but now I can track it better.
  Book List:

• Hexed, by Kevin Hearne, urban fantasy, 4 stars
• Good second book, continuing the series.

• Pack Challenge, by Shelly Laurenston, paranormal erotica, 4 stars

• Go Fetch!, by Shelly Laurenston, paranormal erotica, 4 stars

• Here Kitty Kitty!, by Shelly Laurenston, paranormal erotica, 5 stars
•  Together, all three books are the Magnus Pack series.  Laurenston stays true to form, and geez, I'm addicted.
• Here Kitty Kitty!'s hero is my favorite.  Nik doesn't own a TV.  He reads.  And offers to let Angelina borrow his books so she can read too.  Be still, my heart.

• You've Got Male, by Elizabeth Bevarly, contemporary romance, 2 stars
• Eh.  There was no blow-up.  And I guess I just didn't like it that much.

Book Review: Lord of Scoundrels, by Loretta Chase

Lord of Scoundrels by Loretta Chase

4 stars
Goodreads synopsis:

DETERMINED LADY

Tough-minded Jessica Trent's sole intention is to free her nitwit brother from the destructive influence of Sebastian Ballister, the notorious Marquess of Dain. She never expects to desire the arrogant, amoral cad. And when Dain's reciprocal passion places them in a scandalously compromising, and public, position, Jessica is left with no choice but to seek satisfaction ...

LORD OF SCOUNDRELS

Damn the minx for tempting him, kissing him ... and then forcing him to salvage her reputation! Lord Dain can't wait to put the infuriating bluestocking in her place --- and in some amorous position, And if that means marriage, so be it! --- though Sebastian is less than certain he can continue to remain aloof ... and steel his heart to the sensuous, headstrong lady's considerable charms.


Yes, it's an old book.  Yes, it's HISTORICAL ROMANCE CANON.

I read a Chase book last year.  Turns out, it was part of the Scoundrels series.  This book is book three.  Anyway, we'll ignore the glaring error of me not reading books in order.

Dain is angsty, and very much still a little boy inside a grown man's body.  The psychology student in me screamed, "Therapy!"

The hopeless romantic whispered, "He needs a good dose of old-fashioned lovin'."

He wants to do better.  He also doesn't want to get hurt.  He's trying.  He's scared.  There's a lot going on there.  At first, I didn't know how I would respond to him, but in the end, I really liked him.  He's the character that had a lot of room to grow, and actually did grow.

I adored Jess Trent.  She is your typical bluestocking spinster who neither needs nor wants a man.  And she shoots Dain.  She.  Shoots.  Him.

SHE.  SHOOTS.  HIM.

Served the b-tard right for walking away after being caught with her.  He then marries her because he's the only man big and mean enough to handle her.  He also has a major crush on her.  Aww.

Anyway, it's a good book, and I can understand why it's canon.  Because, it's always on a best-of romance list.  Always.

I love when I read a book that's a BIG DEAL, and it is actually a BIG DEAL.

The Beast On My Head

I was bald until I was two.  When my hair did come in, it came in with a vengeance.

I don't know the exact term for curls like mine, although stylists and hair product makers try to categorize curls to better to make products for them.

When I was younger, my hair was nearly to my butt.  When I started brushing my own hair in middle school, I chopped it all off, a mistake I am still paying for.  It got long again for a while, but then I would get bored one day and cut it all off again.  Never too short, but just to my shoulders.

Here is the thing about curly hair:  it either needs to be really long, or really short.  Anything else is BS. It grows out, not down.  It never looks the same length twice.

My hair, personally, is very dry and frizzy.  When I see someone who's curls are perfect, every curl the same size and shape, I can't help but think:  they're fake.  Curls are not supposed to be uniform.  They're messy and wild and they do whatever they please.  Mine are, anyway.  And when I look up natural curls, I see a lot of wildness in the other pics too. 

I call my hair a beast for a reason, people.  There's no taming it, just containing it and keeping it happy (like the animals at the zoo).

At the end of March, it will be two years since I've been to a stylist to do anything with my hair.  I haven't cut it either in that time.  I got it past my shoulder blades, now, not that you can tell unless I straighten it.

When I was younger, when Mom was still brushing it every night, I kept it in a braided ponytail.  Pony tail?

Thanks to Pinterest and Google, I've begun looking up how to care for curls.  I use a wide-tooth comb, under the shower head, shampooing my hair twice a month if that, and always looking for a good hydrating conditioner, and I have a micro-fiber hair turban.  I'm supposed to use cold water to wash & rinse, but ha ha, yeah, no.  Sometimes.  Maybe come summer again.
 
I also keep it in double braids now.  I guess they're pigtails, but I don't need any fasteners to keep the braids in.  Pro for curly hair.

My hair's my only physical vanity.  As annoying as it is, I do still love it.  I wouldn't want my hair to be straight.  I get a lot of compliments on it.

Except the other day.

Regular:  Your hair's naturally curly?
Me:  Yup.
Regular:  Betcha hate it.
Me:  Well...

On the inside, I'm like, "somebody understands!"

I do love my hair sometimes.  I hate it sometimes too.  But mostly I'm settled with it.  It's crazy and untamable and unpredictable and wild.  Kind of like the weather.  I would also like to think of myself as wild and untamable and crazy.

Well, I don't think of myself as crazy.  I know I'm crazy.  But it's okay.  It's socially acceptable for a writer to be a little crazy.  To better to be creative with.

Actually, it's funny.  I got a Curly Hair Care pin board on Pinterest, and it's mostly cartoons and memes and curly hair problems.

And showcasing from that board, except I don't have red hair or blue eyes, but other than that, yes, I have hair like Merida, only it's not so long and pretty.  I wish they would have shown a good clip of how much longer her curly hair is when it's wet.  Alas.  Anyway.

And Suddenly...

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”
― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

The Valentine's Day hype is gone.  I'm okay.  It's all over.

On a whim, my sister (who's living back with us) and I went to a bar Friday night.

That was a waste of a Friday night, I might add.

::cue British accent::

I could've been in bed with a hot cuppa and either a book or some re-runs of Sherlock.

::end British accent:: 

As it was, while my sister was flirting with the guy she'd planned to meet (thanks for making me the third wheel, sis), I people watched and downloaded a book on my Nook app on my phone and started reading.  It was a nice bar, though.  I'd go again.  Just not with my sister.  She got sloppy drunk, and I almost left her there.  I was aggravated about being made the third wheel.  Her scumbag could've brought her home--if he didn't murder her in a back alley first.  Anyway, I DID bring her home.  However, when I got home, I couldn't get her up.

So, I left her in my car, went inside, showered, and went to bed.

For future reference:  NEVER ask me to be your designated driver if you are a stupid drunk.  Still, lesson learned.

And now the next heavily commercialized holiday to prepare for is Easter!  Easter.  Easter.  Easter.  My favorite holiday.  Why?

Because I don't complain about it.  I always have or try to have something to write.

Easter.  Easter.  Easter.

Hollow chocolate bunnies.
Chocolate.  The GOOD chocolate.
Jesus stuff.
Sweet stuff.
Writing stuff.
I want to go to Crete one year for Easter.

I might actually get my godkids something.  I don't have to, and I may not, but it's not looked at askance in the wider family to give gifts on Easter, especially where godkids are concerned.

Easter.  Easter.  Easter.

BEE. ESS.

"Cynics are simply thwarted romantics.”
― William Goldman, The Princess Bride

I actually have a Friday night off. You have to understand something here, since the new manager's been there, I've had (maybe) 3 Friday nights off--and one of those was because of my little car accident. Four if I'm being generous. But I think it's only three.

But I worked this morning. It's odd having to work in the morning and not have to go to school later on. It feels weird, because I usually only work nights when it's not a school day.

"Happy Valentine's Day" was a common goodbye today. Someone asked if I had plans for tonight. I don't, besides lying in bed with a book, and I answered so.

"What are you going to read?"

This is so bad. "I don't know. I have like nine books I have bookmarks in."

"Oh. Are you a reader?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's good. It'll keep you out of mischief."

I gave my agreement.

"I'm a reader too."

::It's not, 'you like to read'? I loved that. I am a reader--one who reads. It's a defining label. It's a lot of me. End digression.::

It was brightening.

There was another person who spent $32 on his girlfriend (I didn't see a ring and he never mentioned 'wife'). Chocolates, heart centerpiece, teddy bear, card... He had a good attitude at first, and then there was a, 'she better appreciate this,' and apparently he'd done something else for her. I almost wanted to say that I hoped she did appreciate it all, but I'm a good little cashier and kept my mouth shut. I almost wanted to remark as much to the lady behind him (could've been the reader lady), but then I didn't want to sound bitter or anything, and it kind of hurt, a kind of stabbing pain where my heart should be.

Later, a man was buying a big box of chocolates for his wife, and a granddaughter. He asked if I had gotten anything.

"No."

"Not yet?"

"No, I don't have one."

"No husband or boyfriend?"

"No.  Have a nice day."

Anyway...

It really pisses me off when people say that singles should just wait for the right one and all that. Get your heart in the right place. Get your head in the right place.

Excuse me, most of the time, I am really okay with being single. I'm a smart woman, and at a more intellectual level I know realistically I'll never meet anyone.  Between work and school and books and writing, I neither have time nor the energy.  Plus, men need to be needed, and I have this thing where I hate needing people.  And then there is, behind every great man is a good woman.  It seems behind every great woman, there often is no man, or if there is, he ain't happy.

And I do so want to be great.  I want to be the next Lloyd Alexander or Stephanie Laurens.

I'm open with it here but it's not like everyone everywhere knows I've never been on a date.  It's not something I broadcast in my real life. And I try not to bemoan the fact. I try.

However, no matter how great I want to be, that doesn't stop the loneliness. That doesn't make me not wonder what the hell is wrong with me.  You can tell me all day how I should think about it, but as often as I tell my heart that it doesn't matter, my heart doesn't listen.  I don't know about you, but my head and my heart are two completely different entities, with minds of their own.

On that note, I always hate when people hate on the virgin heroine in romance books.  If the opportunity never came, neither did she.  O.o

Like I said, usually it doesn't bother me.  However, seeing all these guys come up in Fred's buying stuff for the ladies in their lives, well damn, if I don't feel left out.

So, it's society's fault.  But I won't go there.  My fellow single people have probably heard enough advice and maxims about their singularity.  I have.  I don't want advice.  This is a childish thing--I want to complain and talk about my feelings.

Because it does hurt.
It is lonely.
It sucks sometimes.
I haven't the slightest idea of what being in love feels like.  I have ideas, because I read a lot, not just romance books, and I've had crushes on real people before, but for me personally, I don't know how I'd be.  And this is something I don't like using my imagination all the time.  Sometimes I really want to experience things for myself.

You have to understand something about me:  I hate not knowing things.

I think the best BS I can give to my fellow frustrated singles is this: 

1 - You're not alone.

2 - Tomorrow, you'll wake up, and thank God you woke up on February 15, and that THE CANDY IS HALF OFF!!!

Some Thoughts about Real Life and Romantic Novels

Right on time for Valentine's Day (kind of), I find myself wondering how the romantic relationships the others around me have, and the not-so-romantic variety.

Again, I re-iterate:  I've never been so much as asked out.  My last crush on a real person in my real life was when I was fifteen.  The only thing I know about relationships is by watching those around me and by reading books.

I would like to think that, someday, maybe, perhaps, if a miracle takes place, there might just be someone out there for me that would actually love me with the fierce passion of that of Devil Cynster for Honoria Anstruther-Wetherby or any Laurens' hero for his heroine.  More likely, a smaller miracle, but a miracle nonetheless, would be someone who could tolerate me enough to marry me.

I see a lot of relationships that are less than ideal.  Married couples where one spouse ruins it for the other, and you wonder why they stay.  I see relationships where the passion has long faded.

I would like to think you have to take the good with the bad, and that nobody's perfect.  At the same time, how much is too much?

Personally, if a man ever laid a hand on me, God forgive me, I'd probably kill him.  But then, abusers are attracted to certain personalities, and "I don't take crap from anyone" rolls off me in waves, I'm sure.  But then again, I don't know.  It's not a situation I've ever dealt with.  I also personally think a woman should be allowed to kill her abusive husband.  It's legal to kill in self-defense isn't it?  Remind me to check my criminal justice textbooks.  But that's just me.

What about the irresponsible partner?  The cheater?  My speculation is that if you're not married to the person, why on earth stay?  In a marriage, fine, there's probably some kids and a lot of years to just throw it away.  It's probably too much trouble to throw it away.  I've heard people say they'd rather put up with some one's crap than be alone.  If you're unhappy, why stay?  If it's bad for you, why stay?

I don't believe life is about being happy.  A full life, yes, but not a happy one.  Full of change, happiness, sadness, crap, tough times, et cetera.

But I do not think we were put here to be happy all the time.  Pain is okay.  Life is pain.  Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.

You are promised pain and trials and tribulations from day one.  However, however, HOWEVER, I don't think you have to seek them out.  It's one thing to work hard to obtain a goal, it's one thing to stick by your family in tough times.

So perhaps it all does boil down to love, and in the case of marriages, that I do.  People are weird.  Relationships are weird.  Romance books are weird.

So, where does this leave me and my views about relationships?  In the books, the heroines have given up on marriage.  For whatever reason, they've decided marriage wasn't for them.  It takes the Right Guy to change her mind, to win her affections, to claim her heart.

Is that what I'm supposed to be waiting for?  Or to just wait until some passably suitable guy comes along?   Actually, there was this one time I was at work.  I'd just rung up this customer.  As he was leaving, he asked if I had a boyfriend or a husband.

This guy looked old enough to be my dad, okay?  I thought he was asking, trying to see just how young young people were settling down.

I smiled and said, "No, I'm single."

"Can I have your number?"

"You look a little old for me."

He said it was okay, and he left.  Wait, Jadi, guys don't think like that.  He was asking if you were available.  I was so proud of myself, though.  It was the first time a member of the male of the species had ever blatantly asked me for my number, and I'd said no.  I'm clearly not the desperate female I think I am.

Lacey comes up, and I tell her the story and the great news.  A look of absolute horror crosses her face.

"You said that?!"

Me:  "Was that bad?"

Lacey:  "Yes!  You don't say stuff like that!"

Me:  "Well, what was I supposed to say?"

And so it went.

As always, to each her own.  I think if I keep to that, I will quit trying to figure people out...but it's so much fun to try!  Why do we do the things we do?  Because we're people.  Because we're not perfect.

Because we probably have no idea what we're doing anyway.  Or I don't anyway.  Obviously.

Story Stuff

I use Grammarly's plagiarism checker because I want to be told how crappy my writing actually is!

I don’t like doing things like plotting/outlining my stories. For some strange reason, I don’t count that as “productive” writing and don’t count it for my day’s K, so I don’t want to spend the time doing it.

Because I’m a scratch and restart wannabe writer, when I switched from a first-person POV to a third-person in that last day’s K, it didn’t bother me. I’m restarting the story anyway. This is going for the new draft. Cough, cough, not really. It’s helping me get the story straight, though, and it counts.

The next day, Monday, between working and going to night class, I didn’t make time for writing. I can’t work on Tuesdays because of the way my class runs, and my class was cancelled, so I had all day to do something productive. I didn’t feel like working on that 12-page paper that’s due February 4th that I haven’t even started on, so I did a Story Stuff for my WiP. Yes, I really do call it that. A Story Stuff is exactly what it sounds like: title, characters, and plot all in one Word doc or in a notebook if I feel like writing it by hand.

After I got down my title, I started with listing my characters: my protagonists, my antagonists, and my supporting cast. I went further to divide them up into the good side, and the evil side, and giving a description of everybody, just to get them straight. It’s as anal-retentive as it sounds. Then I went back to the top again with my protags and antags, and put their wants. I put something like a trope for them down. After that, I added which character would most likely oppose whom under the respective name.

Okay, now time to go to the plot. But the plot is already there, with all of the character information. This little point taught, or perhaps reminded me, of some writing tidbits I had forgotten.

1 – Stories are about people and how they relate to each other. No duh, Sherlock. It’s so obvious it’s fascinating.

2 – Before I entered the ivory towers of academia that is college, every time I got writer’s block, I would go back and re-read writing rules. There was this one-page article that I loved. It had three blocks in it for a beginning, middle, and end. I’d do a Story Stuff with it, and then continue on or restart. It got me writing, and that’s what mattered. Somewhere along the line, I’d forgotten that this method works.

3 – It doesn’t matter that all the writing articles all say the same thing, or one author says one thing, and another author says the complete opposite. Read it anyway. Keep it in mind. Always. Good guidelines at 13 are still that at 21. You don’t stop re-reading your favorite book just because you’ve memorized it, do you? Of course not.

I was on the fence about continuing on, but I did a synopsis for good measure. It’s important to write that stuff down. Most importantly, afterwards, I got my day’s K, with a better vision of what I was doing than what I had previously.

May the words rise up to meet you. And me. God and the four patron saints of writing help us all.

My Year in Review

Three days left for 2013.  I’m one book short of my reading challenge.  I have bookmarks in, like, 6-7 books though.  Ha ha, not all of that is going to get finished, and I don’t want to take the bookmarks out.  I’ll just subract them from next year’s reading challenge when I DO finish them.

I have a 12-15 page paper due when I return to classes in February that I really, really need to get started on.  Not to mention a presentation due the second week I’m back.

I’m still working, although I hate working and being in school at the same time. It’s hard, and my writing and reading has suffered for it.

The first six months of this year were employed by taking care of the animals, reading, and general job-hunting, and the closest thing to an existential crisis I can have.

Come July, things started looking up.  I got a job.  I know since I’ve started working, I’ve bought over 100 books. Over 100 books in six months.  Feeding an addiction is tough, man.

I started school in August, and turned 21.  I’ve gambled and drank.  I’ve settled back into college life as well as I can manage.  I guess I’m happy where I am now.  As happy as can be expected.  I’ve written and read a little something-something.

My New Year’s Resolutions are

1, and most important:  Keep track of just how many books I buy & how much I spend in a calendar year.  Meaning, come January 1^st, I shall start keeping a log, just for the fun of it.  Because I’m curious about my strange addiction to buying books.

2, and also important:  Quit procrastinating.  But I’m waiting till after the first to do this.  I’m putting off putting off.

3, and very, very important too:  Find a church or ministry to get plugged in with so that I may tithe.  I’ve tithed here and there, but not much, and it’s not as if I can’t afford to tithe.  I shouldn’t be able to afford not to.  So, I shall find a church, or a ministry that needs funds.

4, not so important, but here you are anyway:  To read more classic books, and less romance. It’s not that important, and I’m not ashamed of my love for all things historical romance.  However, I’ve only read a handfull of classics, and that’s sad for a self-proclaimed bookworm.  At the same time, while I know other kids had an understanding far surperior to mine as it is now, I’m kind of glad I put off reading the classics till adulthood.  New adulthood, at any rate.  See here.

5, again not important:  to lose weight, get healthy, and, oh my gosh.  Thank you for laughing, because that’s a big fat joke.  Pun intended.

Digressing Rant:  Seriously, why wait until the New Year for that?  Because you wish to indulge during the holidays?  Do it.  Doesn’t matter. To my mind, it’s all about your breaking point.  When you really want to make that change, really, you will do it.  If it’s important, you make time.  If not, you make an excuse.  Going on with the cliches, when you hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up.  Maybe when I’m morbidly obese.  Maybe when I feel the need to attract a husband, or just one date before I get myself to a nunnery.  I don’t have a reason to want it badly enough, not right now.  I want it, yes, but not that bad.  Not as bad as I need to support my book habit.  Not as bad as I like ice cream.  Maybe someday.  But not today.  A healthy choice here and there spaced out between months at a time is still good.  For now.  I haven’t gone up a pants size this year, but I haven’t lost one either. Oh well.  Okay, rant over.

6, again, not as important:  to read and write more.  Obviously I have my good and bad days, but I try to do this all the time anyway.  I mark my calendar and everything now.  I didn’t do as well as I would have liked between work and school the past six months, but I’m learning.  Regardless of whether it’s a NYR or not, it’ll always be something to strive for.

So, my year’s been full of ups and downs.  It’s been a lot of growing up.  It’s been working.  It’s been getting a car, and having to pay bills.  It’s going into debt because I took out a student loan.  It’s been reading a lot and writing a lot.  It’s been emotional trauma between the Dresden Files and the Valisar trilogy.  It’s been realizing things about myself I don’t like and things I can live with.  It’s been twists of heaven and hell into that complicated thing we call life.

Bring it, 2014.  I’m ready as I’ll ever be.

Goals

Today, during a job interview, I was asked for 2 short term goals, and a long term goal.

Get a job, hire an editor, get an agent, become best-selling author with a fame to rival Stephen King's.  Or, get a job, hire an editor, self-publish and gain fame to rival some self-pubbed author.

Like heck I was going to say that.

Get a job, build up credit, possibly go back to school is what I said.  I had no idea.  My life's my writing.  Everything else is....everything else.

"I don't know.  I kinda try to take it one day at a time.  Why do you think I applied to fast food places?"

That would've gone over well.  Now, that I've had my adult moment of applying for a job, I'm going to watch Whisper of the Heart and re-capture my misspent MG years.

What will you bring to this job?  "My awesome sense of humor."  That would've gone over even better.

Make It Count

Ever wonder what people did before social media, television, mass agriculture, fitness clubs and WalMart?

I did.  Sometimes.

And then I realized, people were too busy trying to farm or make a living.  They didn't need social media, television, or the grocery store.

They broke their backs making their living. They didn't live long.  Usually between 30-40 is the average.  Would you have known your grandchildren?  Grandparents?  How old would you have been when you lost your parents?

Every day counted.  Every day you worked was a day you got fed.  You went to church on Sundays, probably.

It's easy to say, "Oh, I'm going to do such and such and such before I die."

Jesus only had thirty-three years of life on earth.  By the standards of the day, it was a full life.  During the Middle Ages, you had about forty years if you were a serf/peasant.

If you knew you were only going to live between thirty and forty years, because it was the average of the day, what would you do?

Someone made a comment last night that kids were getting pregnant younger and younger.  I said that it's going back old school.  People are getting married and having babies at thirteen, and dying at thirty.

Sometimes I wonder how bad of an idea that really is.  If you were only going to have a short amount of time, you're too busy trying to live to think about dying.

I wish I had the book with me (I'm at Amanda's), but in Stephen R. Lawhead's The Spirit Well, a character asks why the Egyptians were so obsessed with death.  You're familiar with the mummification process aren't you?  It's a long, drawn-out process, and it works like nobody's business.  It's in preparation for the life after death.

The character being asked the question answers, it wasn't about death.  "They were obsessed with life."

THAT made me stop.  Life.  Not death.  Life.

“Seize the day, whatever's in it to seize, before something comes along and seizes you.” 
― Lloyd Alexander, The Arkadians

So happy New Year!  Make your years count.

We're Different

I'm something between a sexist and a feminist.  I believe in equality and education for females.  I also believe in traditional gender roles.

Men, please be macho.  No wearing skinny jeans.  No wearing pink.  It's not manly, I don't care what anyone says.  When you find your feminine side, marry her.  She should be a person, who can train you properly.  Two flesh joined in one and all that.

Women, please be sweet and sensitive.  I don't think you should give up your 9-5 (I can't wait for mine) and stay barefoot and pregnant, but I don't think you should forget you're a woman.  You are the prettier, superior sex.  "God made man first, and then He had a better idea."  We were supposed to be Man's helper.  Help the poor idiots.

It takes both a man and woman to create a child.  Yes, I am aware of sperm banks, but a man's still needed for that, if only in the beginning.  Have they created artificial sperm yet?

"Girls have the same number of bones as boys, the same number of muscles, of vital organs. They sleep, breathe, eat, digest, grow, according to the same plan. So far there seems no reason why there should be any distinction of male and female. But as we come to study what is called special physiology we discover physical differences and reasons for their existence.

There are certain differences of form that are discernible at a glance. Men are usually larger than women. They have heavier bones and bigger muscles. They have broad shoulders and narrow hips, and have hair upon the face. Women have smooth faces, more rounded outlines, narrower shoulders and broader hips. In man the broadest part of the body is at the shoulders, in woman at the hips. This is significant of a great fact which will be manifest to you when you understand the functions of each sex. Although each has the same general plan of individual life, there are special functions which determine the trend of their lives. The man's broad shoulders are indicative that he is to bear the heavy burdens of life—struggles for material support—and woman's broad hips indicate that she is to bear the heavier burden of the race." 

Mary Wood-Allen, What a Young Woman Ought to Know (p. 79). Kindle Edition. (Public Domain Book)

The statements above are about 100 years old, maybe a little more.  Men and women are different.  But we need those differences.  We need each other.  We need manly men and girly girls.  We balance each other out.  Balance.  Remember that word?  What happens when you're unbalanced?  

You fall.

Crazy Never Felt So Good

All my graduation stuff is in order.  I got a little congratulations bag and everything.  I only need 1 class to graduate.  We knew this.

So, I dropped all but two of my classes.

Put your eyes back in your head and take your jaw off the floor.

Yep, this late in the semester, I just quit everything but two classes.  1 class I wasn't going to pass anyway.  And the other two I just hated.

The stupidest thing I've ever done is being 1 credit short of being able to graduate last spring semester.  THIS is probably the most irresponsibly crazy thing I've ever done.  Except, perhaps, standing in the bed of a truck, while the driver's driving with his feet with half his body hanging out the truck while it's going...never mind how fast we were going.  You don't need to know about that.

Dropping all of my classes, this late in the semester, yeah, that's pretty irresponsible and crazy for me.

But, like the other crazy, irresponsible thing I've done, it felt good.

Going off the deep end was probably the best thing I could have ever done.

Note

At first I felt like a hypocrite, because I wrote a vampire story, even though I don't care for vampire books.  I like living, breathing human men.


But, for those of you who didn't read "My Fair Donor," Julius doesn't get his girl until he becomes human again.  Calling it a vamp romance is a bit of a misnomer.


It's an ex-vamp romance!


I stayed true to myself.


No, I am not a hypocrite.  I wrote the vampire story I would like to read.

On Being Single

I've never made my lack of a dating history a secret.  Well, maybe at first, but because it's my life, I had to talk about it eventually.

Other than the huge blow to my self-esteem that no guy's ever taken an interest in me, I'm really okay with being single.  Two of my favorite people, Rich Mullins and Hans Christian Andersen, never married.  Mullins gave up dating.  Andersen fell in love multiple times, but nobody ever returned that love.

What I don't like is that's there's this implication that being single is just a phase and not a lifestyle--unless you're a nun/monk.

25 About virgins: I have no command from the Lord, but I do give an opinion as one who by the Lord’s mercy is trustworthy. 26 Therefore I consider this to be good because of the present distress: It is fine for a man to remain as he is. 27 Are you bound to a wife? Do not seek to be loosed. Are you loosed from a wife? Do not seek a wife. -1 Corinthians 7:25-27

I want a relationship because I want to write romance books and I'm pretty sure I should go in with at least a little romantic experience of my own, and not just what I've read about in books.  I don't want happily ever after, I just want to know what's it like.  I'm no relationship expert, but I'm pretty sure that's the wrong reason.

So, I'm mostly okay with being single.  Mainly because the more I think about what I'd want in a man, the more I'm convinced I should be alone. ;)

My New Favorite Bible Verse

I have a prayer journal.  It has a verse (sometimes 2) at the top of each page.  It was given to me for Christmas in 2006.  My first entry was February 20, 2009.  I write in it sporadically.  Don't judge me.

Anyway, while I was writing in it today, the verse on the next page was:

"Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and work with your hands." -1 Thessalonians 4:11 (NIV)

Finally, something I can actually do.

Fruits of the Spirit?  I suck at those.  Keep to all things good and pure?  I suck at that too.

THIS?

Quiet life?  I live on a farm.

Mind my own business?  I'm an introvert.

Work with my hands?  Well, I like working with my hands.  So, I can do that too.