On ... The Still of Night by Kirsten Heitzmann

With this book I returned to another author that I haven't read for several years. The previous books of hers that I've read are historical fiction so this was a new introduction to her writing style in contemporary fiction.

I fell in love with the characters in Heitzmann's two historical fiction series but I had a hard time connecting with the two main characters in this book. Most likely this was just something in my head because at the beginning I had the distinct feeling that I'd already read this book before or at least I'd read a book with this exact story line (or something very similar) before. Throughout the book I kept searching for hints that would remind me of the other similar book that I read or confirm that I had read this book before. I'm still not sure.

I think I will begin analyzing the books I read based on the following criteria: plot, characterization, revelation of backstory, grammar, imagery

Plot: I have to admit that I projected my own ideas on where the plot was going to go based on that idea in the back of head. Unfortunately, my projected ideas turned out to be true for the most part. What intrigued me was the interaction of the subplots, as characters came in and out of the story.

Characterization: Of course I wanted to know how each character's story developed. I learned much about the two main characters: Morgan and Jill and enjoyed watching them change, grow closer to God in believable steps (although extreme at some points). When I finished the book I wanted to know more about characters that made brief appearances in Morgan and Jill's life like Jill's learning disabled students or the troubled boy that Morgan mentors (or attempts to mentor). Now, I admit...Heitzmann would have needed to write a much bigger and weighty book if she intended to fully develop these characters. I guess what I wish is that she would have better tied off those subplots/character's stories.

Revelation of backstory: I don't have much too say here. Ms. Heitzmann did an excellent job.

Grammar: Thankfully no glaring errors jumped off the page. Something about significant grammar mistakes turns me off to an author. Not Ms. Heitzmann though.

Imagery: Occansionally, an author that I read wil create such striking word pictures that I can remember even after I put down the book. Now, Mrs. Heitzmann is noot one of those authors but she does paint a picture clear enough for me that I can see the action and the characters. My heart even skipped a beat (okay, speaking figuratively) when Ms. Heitzman introduced Santa Barbara as Morgan's place of residence. I absolutely love that city and also having been there I could more easily picture the locations Ms. Heitzman describes.

On... Lord of the Flies by William Golding

I should have finished this book many years before. I went to a local public high school for one day my junior year. In English we were assigned Lord of the Flies to read but I never returned and thus never returned the book. (I didn't steal it intentionally of course). The book sat on my shelf for many years before I finally donated it somewhere I can't remember.

Thus, when I started adding books to my visual bookshelf application on facebook I added this book.

To be honest, I never really got a handle on the book. Golding drops the reader down into the middle of the story--boys shipwrecked or planewrecked (Golding never really clearly says) on some Island in the Pacific. Now, I appreciate a technique like that...if the backstory is gradually explained throughout the story. Unfortunately, the story continued to develop from the point at which the reader was introduced to the characters with absolutely no looking back to find out the rest of the story.

In addition to that, Golding never clearly names his characters and somethimes alternates between names for a few characters. Actually, I never really understood the Lord of the Flies character...I believe that it was a pig's head that talked to the poor boy like an English schoolmaster.

Also, the boys (the hunters specifically) turn into utter savages rather quickly...too quickly for believablity for my sake.

I would not recommend this book to anyone simply because I didn't enjoy it. Unfortunately, I will most likely be teaching this book to my students (or at least be required to do so) once I become certified.

On ... Danny the Champion of the World by Roald Dahl

I opened the book with a blank expectation slate. I enjoyed The BFG and hoped I would enjoy this book.

Danny the Champion of the World is a much older book...not in relation to publication date but according to subject level. The reading level is only slightly higher than The BFG but the story deals with much more serious issues.

I think that an accurate comparison would be To Kill A Mockingbird. Danny, the main character, is ten years old for the majority of the story... just a little bit older than Scout from To Kill A Mockingbird. In TKAM the serious undertone which becomes the main plot towards the end of the story is the trial of a black man. In DtCotW the serious undertone is dangerous poaching...an illegal activity.

I absolutely loved this story. Having read Boy: Tales from Childhood...Dahl's childhood memoir...I could easily see correlations, characters that Dahl compiled from his own history. I appreaciate that. Unlike a favorite movie of mine (Alex and Emma) Dahl draws from his past...mixes and matches...instead of verbatim telling his own story back again.

In fact, when I first started reading the book I was struck by how similar this book read to Dahl's childhood memoir.

I definitly highly recommend this book.

On ... The Preacher's Daughter by Beverly Lewis

This is by far my favorite of Beverly Lewis' books that I have read during this challenge. Perhaps that is because this book is the first in the series and very well introduces the various characters without simply stating their various attributes.

Even though I have read the last book in the series and know how everything ends, Mrs. Lewis' writing compels me to keep reading the other books in the series and find out even more about these characters.

Although a couple subplots are evident underneath the primary plot Mrs. Lewis weaves them together to create a story so whole that one plot/story cannot be told without the other. Perhaps that comes fromt the fact that the lives of those in an Amish community are already so closely intertwined.

As always, reading one of Lewis' books makes me think about the Amish lifestyle in relation to a relationship with God.

On ... The BFG by Roald Dahl

I cannot say enough good things about this book. I have never read a children's book this absolutely magnificent.

To be honest, I could not put the book down.

I don't really know how to critique a children's book. I guess I'll just say that I absolutely loved the book...everything about it.

On ... Boy by Roald Dahl

I laughed so many times as I read this book. Mr. Dahl has a ready wit that I remembered gradually from his other books as I delved further into this one.

While Mr. Dahl relates many stories from his childhood in this book I wouldn't call it an autobiography. Instead, I believe that Mr. Dahl...like my grandfather...elaborated and created full stories out of pictures from his memory.

Still, those elaborated pictures were quite enjoyable. I couldn't help but compare Hogwarts to Mr. Dahl's schools and see how the English school system is so much different than the US but also how "uniform" English schools are. I hope you know that I don't mean that all of the school are the same but that they have as a similar structure in contrast with a public high school in the US.

Throughout the book pictures are interspersed with handwritten captions...presumably handwritten by Dahl himself. Somehow this makes me like the book even more.

On ... Tender Mercies by Lauraine Snelling

This book filled in a lot of the gaps that I was missing in the story line and fulfilled my desire to learn a little bit more about the characters. Sometimes I have an insatiable thirst to learn the stories of people I read about or see knowing that even if the story is similar to something or many things that I've already been acquainted with and this book fit that desire perfectly.

Mrs. Snelling limited the story--somewhat--to a couple lines and thus I wasn't too distracted trying to figure things out.

A few times Mrs. Snelling stretched the imagination in describing the reaction of a few characters to different events. Thankfully, unlike Mr. Morris, Mrs. Snelling avoids carrying out those tepid descriptions throughout the book.

The characters are nearly as fully developed as they can be in a book/series like this. Each has his own flaws and admirable qualities and no one character is completely alike.

Mrs. Snelling's book are a nice enjoyable read for a rainy afternoon or for any random time.

On ... Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

Reading both 1984 and Fahrenheit 451 in the same day helped me compare the two writing styles I believe.

I come away from Fahrenheit 451 with a bad taste in my mouth. Of course, the main point of the book is about burning book...it did make me think about what life would be like without books. That would be a terrible place for me.

I kept getting confused though as I read. Things weren’t explained very well in my opinion. Bradbury did develop Montag quite well. When I first started reading the book I thought of Montag as a very calloused man, carefree in his job as a fireman but then as he watched something horrible happen on the job and actually picked up a book to read his character changed dramatically but it wasn’t a sudden turn around. His transformation was quite believable.

I wasn’t ready for the end of the book because I was expecting the end of the book to come at page 192...the number I’d seeno n the last page...but it turns out that two other of Bradbury’s short stories were also included at the end of the book. I blame that shortcoming on myself.

In my opinion Orwell has a much more enjoyable writing style than Bradbury but both authors leave me longing for a little something with hope.

On ... A Land to Call Home by Lauraine Snelling

This book did explain a few details that I did not know when I read the last book of the series. One would expect that .

In comparison, I enjoyed Blessing in Disguise more than this particular book. Snelling, in my opinion tried too hard to tell the stories of at least three different women. All of those women had at least a page or two of “narration” in Blessing but the primary story was that of Augusta.

I have to admit that I was at least partially distracted because of the fact that I am currently sitting in the family waiting room of the surgical center while my dad has surgery to repair a herniated disk. Having a cheesy soap opera on just above my head and countless people walking by is not conducive to reading relatively quickly and thoroughly.

Other than the above-mentioned criticism--too many storylines and people to keep up with easily--I have nothing else to criticize about the story. In fact, Snelling developed her characters so well that I would rather read one story about each of them than one story about all.

On ... 1984 by George Orwell

This book drew me in from the get go. I vaguely remembered reading about how the book ended and as I read I remembered more of the ending.

Overall the book is a hopeless book. I can’t imagine living in a world where I am literally told what to think. My mind is always moving at such rapid paces even when I’m not writing anything. I’m also very opinionated. :D

The book is bearable to read because at a few scattered points in the book Orwell infuses some sense of hope that Winston can overcome Big Brother but then once he is captured all hope flees.

The fantasy of this world that Orwell created absolutely fascinated me. My thoughts are often filled with what ifs. 1984 makes me very thankful that I live in the world that I live in and the fact that I was not born into this Orwellian society. (Isn’t it amazing how Orwell’s name has come to describe an entire society of people?)

On ... Blessing in Disguise by Lauraine Snelling

Again I return to an old favorite, Lauraine Snelling. As a teenager I read her young adult novels voraciously. I loved horses...admit it...what teenage girl doesn't love those beautiful creatures. :D

The three books of hers that I checked out from the library this round were the third, fifth and sixth in the series. Dummy me accidentally picked up the sixth book from my own pile and just started reading.

To be honest, save for a few details about various relaitonships in the book I did not find myself at a disadvantage.

After reading those Morris books I braced myself at the beginning when I saw hints of pedistrian writing...but the hints remained only hints. While I saw a few things that I could do without I enjoyed the book and loved learning to love the characters.

Would I buy it? Probably not.

Was it a good book? Yes

Was it somewhat predictable? Yes

On ... of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck and The Enormous Crocodile by Roald Dahl

I should have remembered from my last trip through a Steinbeck novel that he doesn't refrain from profanity usage.

Steinbeck's skill is amazing. He crafts characters that are full and changing even if he doesn't give them a name. Unfortunately, Steinbeck...as mentioned in the previous paragraph...feels free to sprinkle profanity on almost every page. If Steinbeck had a positive story to tell with a happy ending or at least with hope of a happy ending than the profanity would be gratuitous.

Happiness and hope are two words not exemplified in any of Steinbeck's novels (at least the ones I've read and studied). I hurried through that book as quick as I could.


On other fronts...

I chose to read The Enormous Crocodile because I knew it would be completely different than of Mice and Men... a welcome relief.

Not being an active children's book reader I don't have that good of a base to judge The Enormous Crocodile. I enjoyed the read and even laughed at a couple of moments. :D

On ... Funeral in Blue by Anne Perry

To be honest I can't remember how I ever heard about this book or why I even put it on my list.

Obviously I approached the book wary of what I would find, especially after I read what was on the dust jacket cover. I was so afraid that it would delve into the seemier side of things that I never want to expose myself to. I think what I'm trying to say is understandable.

I told myself that I would put the book away if I ever encountered anything like that. I finished the book.

Now, I realized as I delved into the book that I picked up a book that occurs after several other books in the development of a character by this author...the private detective. Because of that I found myself at a disadvantage trying to figure out the relationships between the characters.

Ms. Perry didn't (thankfully) explicitly state the relationships between the characters with the exception of the relationship between the accussed and the deceased (husband/wife). Perhaps a little more of that could be stated and Ms. Perry would still be miles away from the cliche mill that is Gilber Morris. (I'm afraid that Mr. Morris...nice man he may be... will end up being the bottom standard of my comparisons for the near future).

Although I cringed a few times...I remember only two specific examples...in general Ms. Perry's writing tells a murder story with the hint of a CSI show (without all the modern crime scene forensic analysis).

Unfortunately, even though the writing was technically proficient, she never drew me into the story. I honestly did not care whether the accused was found guilty or not...or even if he was actually guilty. Ms. Perry even failed to create a sense of sympathy or empathy within me for the main character.

I probably won't be reading any more Anne Perry books--not because the writing was bad but because I would rather read books where I connect with the characters...at least one.

On ... Our Town by Thorton Wilder

When I placed this play on my reading list I did not know anything about it. Actually, I thought it was a book. Imagine my surprise when I picked it up from the library and saw written on the cover of the diminutive book "three-act play".

I opened the book and almost immediately became enraptured with the small New Hampshire town. I tried to recall as much as I could from my Creative Writing class nearly four months ago. Some of the plays I read there (student works) were barely tolerable.

Wilder cleverly reveals information about the town and the characters a piece here and a piece there. Even though the stage manager simply states seemingly random information, Wilder has a purpose. Coming off of several Gilbert Morris books this sort of plot/character/and etc this was definitely refreshing.

An example of something that struck me and lured me deeper into the play was the Stage Manager's aside about a character whose name escapes me at the moment. This young newspaper-delivering boy would grow up get a great eduacation but just when he was poised to do great things in the world he dies in France in WWI. By so abruptly introducing this information Wilder jerked my heartstrings and lured me deeper into his profoundly moving play.

Once I reached then end I wanted to go back to the days of innocence just like Emily as and after she revisited her twelfth birthday.

On... the Path Between the Seas by David McCullough

This book is not for the light-hearted, fair-weather history reader. While David McCullough writes many books that appeal to a much larger audience than most historians this book is thick and very full of information.

I suppose that it was a little more difficult to read this book because I'm not familiar with the subject in any way at all. Of course I know about the Panama Canal but not much about the building (the main theme of the book).

There isn't one central character...unless one counts the Canal itself... so many names flow in and out of the book. I often had to flip back to reacquaint myself with a character if the name (usually the last name) reappears.

I learned an awful lot about the building of the canal and about David McCulough's writing style. I'm amazed at the amount of knowledge this man has if he can write a 600 thoroughly researched book in a subject area that is not his area of expertise. (That would be the American Revolution).

On ... The Betrayal by Beverly Lewis

Once again I entered the series at a disadvantage. This book is the second in the series.

I didn't want to put the book down.

Everything positive I said about the other book of hers I can say about this.

I enjoyed this book even more.

On... The Brethren by Beverly Lewis

Once again I returned to a favorite author after a few years hiatus. After reading Gilbert Morris I didn't raise my expectations. Thankfully I wasn't disappointed. In fact I was quite impressed.

I did enter the book at a slight disadvantage by reading the last book in the series before the first two. (That's what happens when one gets the books from the library. Whatever was available on my list I grabbed)

My disadvantage was caused by something I admire...the lack of recap of the previous books in the beginning of the book. As I journeyed through the book I learned more about the subtlties of the characters and plot.

Another positive: Even though the plethora of characters confused me at first but Lewis didn't introduce too many and deftly weaved the stories together so that I soon sorted out the identities of the characters.

Honestly, I can't really think of a negative to tell about the book though I believe that I thought of one or two as I was reading.

Even now the end choices of the two main characters make me think, a positive thing I think.

On... The Shining Badge and all other Winslow series books by Gilbert Morris

It's been a couple of years since I read any books by Gilbert Morris. I held out hope that they wouldn't be terrible and I could at least read them and derive some pleasure.

The writing is so absolutely pedestrian I could barely stand it.

There are several other books of his on my list. I think that I will read them in order to learn exactly what my own writing should look like.

Most of the time when I criticize something in detail it is because the writing shows great promise but there are things that can be improved to make the writing closer to perfect. When something is extremely terrible I don't really feel like criticizing it at all.

There will not be any more reviews of any Gilbert Morris books that I read, unless somehow a jewel is hidden among the junk.

On ... John Adams by David McCullough

I knew when I picked up this book that it would be a good read. Having learned about the author and already read a highly popular recent publication (1776) I hoped I would find this biography as enjoyable.

I was not disappointed.

In my senior year of college as a history major I took a class on Historical Writing...the things to do and not to do. David McCullough manages to write an enjoyable read while being historically accurate and delicately weaving in primary sources (things written at the time) without boring the reader.

Since I was a child I knew that John Adams was the second president of the US, kind of chubby, served only one term and had a son that did the same. To be honest, Adams' physical appearance was sort of a turn off to learning any more about him. How foolish I was.

McCullough paints a realistic picture. Emerging from this book I feel like I know John Adams as a person. To be perfectly honest I have even more admiration for him now than his contemporary Thomas Jefferson. I learned about Adams and his wife along with his entire family without being concerned about the fact that this man (and his wife) was rather stout. That's the amazing thing about words.

I digress.

The one thing I wish that McCullough would have elaborated on is John Adams' flurry of appointees during the lame duck period of his presidency. McCullough mentions that Adams' prudence of the beginning of his term contrasted with these appointments but doesn't attempt to explain them or mention that there is no primary informaiton on Adams' reasoning behidn this.

I can't wait until I read another of McCullough's books.

On ... As Good as Dead by Patricia Rushford

I have to say that I was rather disappointed with this book.

As the book drifted to the end I became completely confused with the jumps in narration and the seeming "too-nice" bad guys. I couldn't figure out who was good or who was bad. Usually with a mystery that's a good thing. In this case the confusion caused the ending to be anti-climactic.

One other thing that I noticed about the book (the author actually because I noticed this with the other book in the series that I read) is that Patricia Rushford gives far too much backstory in the beginning of the book. It is almost as if she hands the backstory to the reader on a silver platter. Hmm...perhaps that's why I love Angela Hunt's books so much. She makes a concerted effort to avoid ang backstory until after page 30 (or 50 but I can't remember),

Overall though the book was decent and served its purposed...nice light reading for the evening.

On...A Long Way from Home by Tom Brokaw and Deadly Aim by Patricia Rushford

First, A Long Way from Home by Tom Brokaw

Having read Brokaw's Greatest Generation books I knew that I would not have to suffer from a pedestrian writing style. On the other hand I didn't know what exactly to expect in autobiography.

I was pleasantly surprised.

Brokaw frames his own story in the historical background of the area in which he grew up, his parents and the nation as a whole. Being the history lover that I am I appreciated Brokaw's sense that all of his major accolades as the anchor of NBC news was not the important marks of his life.

In many senses I am slightly wary of autobiographies and what the author chooses to emphasize. When a person writes of his own importance I often wonder just how important this person is.

When, in the case of Tom Brokaw, a person who has achieved many important achievements, the author downplays his success--practically ignores it--I gain an increased sense of appreciation.



Second, Deadly Aim by Patricia Rushford

With this book I returned to an author that I haven't read for years...since I fell in love with her young adults series. I approached the book tentatively because I was hoping that I wouldn't be disappointed.

I wasn't.

Of course there were things that irked me such as the automatic attraction between the main character and a new introduction. As a single woman who greatly desires the companionship and all that that entails of a husband but has yet to even go on a date...the fact that a man automatically yearns to draw a woman into his arms...

You get the picture.

In the end the mystery novel accomplished its goal. I didn't guess the identity of the cuplrit until it was revealed. I will definitely enjoy the next book in the series.

On... All Good Gifts by Kathleen Morgan

I could predict the entire outcome of this story by the end of the second chapter. I have enjoyed other books by Kathleen Morgan but yet this one sours my taste.

The characters did not develop and in fact flipped back and forth between almost unbelievable extremes. The dialogue ventured into highly constructed areas...a source of great irritation for me.

The lessons that the main character learned didn't seem believable or actually, all that important.

I hate to seem like I'm complaining because I'm not. The book was simply comfortable "summer read".

(Hopefully these reviews will grow in length as I become more accustomed to writing them.)

On neighbors and Spiderman

My neighbors on the right, across the street, often have huge inflatable toys in their backyard for their children. At the moment a Spiderman pool is set up. The reason the pool stands out is because Spiderman himself sits on the edge, an inflatable Spiderman of course.

When I walked over to the sink to get water for my coffee I momentarily stopped and stared at the Spiderman because I wondered what that was across the street. (Even though Mom and I discovered this inflatable novelty last night)

Immediately my mind went to Build-a-bear where yesterday I saw one of their bears dressed up in a Spiderman costume...so cute because the snout distorted the shape of the mask.

Then I thought of a superhero movie where a costumed spiderman is running away from the trouble. I always laugh at that point.

From there my thoughts drifted to the relations we have with our neighbors.

My ideal situation would to be on friendly terms with the neighbors, taking over some cookies, borrowing a cup of sugar. Well, perhaps not as far as that but at least to a point beyond perhaps waving as you drive by.

Take for instance the neighbor to my right. I'm not sure how many people live there. At any given time three or four different cars (many regulars of course) sit in the driveway and so many faces go in and out of the door. They seem like a nice bunch of people though but I don't know them.

Hmm. Isn't it interesting where the brain leads?

On being busy

I started my new schedule this week.

I thought that this change might be really difficult to deal with. I should probably return and evaulate that after a couple more weeks have passed...but so far things are going well.

I enjoy my new job responsibilities. So far every day I have learned something new, either about the job and way I serve customers or about my relationship with God and how I should handle obstacles that arise in my path.

I apologize for the shortness of the entry. I intended to write more and expound upon this topic but nothing more is coming to me.

On tea

Though born and raised in the south I did not grow up among tea drinkers. I never acquired a liking for sweet tea. Because I don't drink tea and don't carry any southern twang in my accent among other things, many people mistake my region of origen.

To be honest, there is something in the taste of tea...generic sweet/unsweet tea served at most restaurants in the south...that is completely untenable for me.

I tried hot tea once. I couldn't resist after smelling the wonderful fruit smell wafting up as I made the hot tea for customers. Unfortunately that same untenable taste came to my mouth.

After that experience I wrote off tea as a beverage I would drink. Lately many things have combined to enhance the status of good quality tea in my eyes. I won't bother to list all of them because that is not the point. I made a decision that if I had the chance I would try some good quality tea and attempt to teach myself to like tea...the same way I did with coffee. (I know it can be done)

That opportunity arrived today. After lunch Laura and I decided to go over to the mall for a free facial at a cosmetics store but they were closed. We decided to enjoy ourselves and wander around the mall while we waited for Mom to return.

She took me to Tea Junction. (She just happens to like tea ;) ) Although she encouraged me to try something, I actually didn't need the encouragement.

The only thing that remained was for me to decide which drink I would purchase. After much deliberation I got a Roibos (I doubt that I'm spelling that right...light was glaring on the menu so I never really got a clear look at it) Caramel Swirl.

Before my drink was ready, Laura recieved hers. I forget the name but it was a peach tea mixed with sparkling water. I took a taste. Amazing.

She offered to switch with me if when I got the drink I ordered I didn't like it. No switch occurred. One taste was all I needed to fall in love with the drink. The taste was so unique (and so long ago I can't quite remember it exactly) and so absolutely amazing...so much better than the majority of espresso drinks I've ever had. The flavor was so full yet not overly sweet (the result of attempts to get similar flavor from espresso drinks).

I have yet to try hot tea so we'll see if I'm taking this journey with the right steps.

On writing again

Many times in my life I have stated my desire to progress in my writing ability and to enhance my writing discipline, make it more of a habit.

Many more times that enthusiasm has faded to become only an ember pushed to the back burner of my priorities.

I have realized lately that once again I have fallen prey to that cycle and allowed many other things, much less important, become paramount.

I intented that this blog would be one of many methods in which I would practice my writing, push myself to create something new on a regular basis.

Unfortunately, the pace of postings up until the past week or so has been remarkably similar to that of other lulls.

I suppose I can take this as another lesson learned (one might be surprised at the number of lessons God teaches when one starts to look at things through that lense...but that is the subject for another post) and grow from it.

With my new schedule looming ahead I have made a concerted effort this week to train myself--altering my sleep schedule, making a to-do list and accomplishing it, determining priorities and etc. The more I look at my new schedule and the eventual changes as I gradually transition in and out of the school mode the more I realize all of the changes that accompany adulthood.

If I want to make wriitng a permanent part of my life I need to begin now and make certain that I create the habit of writing at least two or three times a week...something creative that is.

So, once again I make the declaration that this blog is to be a tool for me as I tone my writing as well as a tool in the creation of a new chapter in my life.

(If I had any readers besides one I might ask you to keep me accountable. oh well... ;) )

On Wuthering Heights

I encountered the story of Wuthering Heights for the first time last night...in movie form.

I hate to admit it but I have never before read the story and almost wish that I could have avoided it completely. I had completely unsupportable expectations when I rented the movie from Blockbuster (thank goodness it was free) and all throughout the movie Mom and I wondered when things were going to turn around and get better.

Perhaps when I do read the book (which I still plan on doing) I will come away with a different impression but I'm not sure.

The thing that struck me the most about the story was its utter lack of hope save for a brief, very brief, glimpse at the very end. At every turn or change in the story the amount of hope left diminished by half (or something like that).

Both Mom and I wondered how people can love this story (I know people like that are out there and if you like the story I know that there must be a reason).

All I have to say is that the next movie I watch/book I read better have a happy ending. Wuthering Heights makes me want to run as fast as I can towards Pride and Predjudice. :D

On working

Many times I have struggled between wanting to work and earn more money to provide for my bill paying and my enjoyment of being able to relax and enjoy myself at home.

Each time my work schedule changes I rely on God to help me adjust to the new schedule.

My schedule starting on Monday is definitely different than anything I’ve had before, sort of like dipping my toe into the wide world of work before I return to my “haven” of school next June.

I remarked earlier that it was odd to be continuing my summer schedule or what was my normal summer schedule during my college years while nearly everyone I knew returned to school.

I enjoyed the ability to sleep in to a relatively late time and accomplish a few things before I headed off for a day’s work that wasn’t strictly defined except for the start time.

Now I will have a defined start and end time for at least two of the three parts of my work day and a relatively defined end time for the third. In addition, there will be no ambiguity about what I will be doing whereas before I never knew exactly what I would be doing: one delivery, two deliveries, going to Spartanburg or Due West.

Even more than that my identity at work will change from one of delivery driver...something that I have been since I started at the job in December nearly two years ago...to working in the Café.

I think this will be a good change, something that helps me grow. Then again, when does God ever do something in our life that does not help us grow?

On not going back to school when everyone else does

I knew that the reality of being done with college wouldn't hit home until the new semester started. I was right.

My cousin started as a freshman this week. I've been going back and forth to her dorm room to drop off books that I'm renting or selling back...in pants. Going back on campus brings back all of the good memories and the bad memories...like I thought it would.

There are many things about my school that I love...the people, some of the routine and etc (I'm sure I would love the no hose rule if I had had it when I was a student) but at the same time there are many things that I do not miss at all.

I feel kind of strange thoough. Take for instance my morning routine. I don't go in to Streetside until ten. That's not unusual for me during the summer but now everyone is back in school. A couple of days ago I thought about that as I was doing my daily hour of reading. I realized that during the semester while I was in school I wouldn't be sitting in the recliner reading at this time of the day...I would be at school either in class or in the Snack schop working on homework.

I have to say that was a pretty strange feeling.

Here's the irony of the situation. When I do start back to school this coming June, everyone else I know will be finishing school for the semester.

On Stardust and time with friends

God taught me something yesterday...well many things actually. One was that flexibility can be a good thing.
Because I was flexible I ended up going to a movie with my sister and two of our friends to a movie in Spartanburg and I absolutely loved the movie. (I didn't end up accomplishing anything that I had planned to do but I didn't mind at all).

When I saw the preview for Stardust I thought that I might enjoy the movie but since I'm not familiar with the original story I wasn't sure if the movie would descend into contrived endings or campiness. That didn't happen...at least in my opinion.

The storyline was one of the most original I have ever read in a book or seen in a movie. I won't get into the storyline because I doubt that I could portray the plot as accurately as it should be.

For the rest of the night I kept saying how much I loved that movie. I felt like saying it more but for the sake of the sanity of those that I was around (:D) I refrained.

The other great part of the night was spending time with my friends. We had so much fun. Nothing unusual occured...just normal laughing, talking and other such things but it's something that I don't have very often, probably because of my own actions.

My hope and prayer is that in the future God will help me get out of my comfort zone and do stuff like this more often.

On frustration

I am an easily frustrated person. Anyone who has spend a decent amount of time with me (outside of work) knows this without a doubt.

Most often I become frustrated with time...something that is completely out of my control. I like having structure to my routine. I enjoy finishing things that I have to do as quickly as I can so that I can have as much free time as possible. I breathe a sigh of relief when I'm on time for work.

Just this afternoon a few things happened that if I hadn't taken a step back and several deep breaths would have freaked me out.

Yesterday morning my car wouldn't start. Everything was solved. Grandpa jumped my car and it worked fine...until this afternoon.

I came home during my lunch break so that I could work out (though the workout was abbreviated because I was so hot and exhausted from the heat) and when I got in my car to go back to work the car wouldn't start.

Thankfully Daniel was over because he'd just cut the grass so he took me to work. Mom and Grandpa are taking my car to some place (the name escapes me at the moment) tonight while I'm at work to get the battery checked out.

Then as Daniel was driving me over I realized that the key to the white van was no longer in my pants pocket. As of right now I do not know where it is.

I arrived back at Streetside starting to get a little frazzled because I had five pick ups to do and potentially no way of doing them and even if there was a spare van key lying around I had to use up precious time to find it.

I won't bore you and relate every detail of my route this afternoon but I will tell you the breaking point. That occurred when I got up stairs in one of the cardiology offices that I picked up at and saw six longs (the pans we use) displayed on the table. This eating area was upstairs and I had to go down a hallway with a cart as well. I started to freak out then, especially when I noticed that a couple of the holder things were our spares (and last resorts) and would not fit with the others.

I had to take a step back at that point and pray that God would give me grace to finish my pick ups and everything I had to do before I sent to my other job.

I wondered at first what God was trying to teach me. I think I know now.

On having too much free time

My birthday is this Wednesday. I have most of the week off (probably the whole week off) from both of my jobs. Techically I could say that it's because of my birthday but...well, I just happened to be born on a holiday.

As long as I live in America I will most likely never have to work on my birthday.

Usually I enjoy having time off. All through last semester I kept looking forward to my Sundays...the one day of the week where I had no school work to do at all and could relax and feel guilt free. Even more so I looked forward to the end of the semester when not only would I be done with college and all the rules but I could live my life without the "threat" of school work looming over my head.

Did I enjoy the free time? Oh yes.

Did I have second thoughts about taking a second job and possibly losing my evening free time? kind of...yes

Do I wish that my two jobs would let me have more hours so that I wouldn't be bored out of my mind when I wasn't working (and sometimes when I am working)? Yes!

Every so often during days off I try to think though the things that I need to do...like I did before. I've even tried to create a to do list.

That effort failed.

There simply isn't that much that I "have" to do. Come to think of it...there really isn't anything that I "have to do.

I'm taking the Praxis II test sometime in the fall and I have the social studies and language arts study guides so that I could study for those tests. I find it hard to get motivated to do that. I've enjoyed my vacation from studies so far and don't really want to get out there and do research in order to make up my own study guides.

Have you seen some of the questions? Here, I'll give you the first one and you tell me if you woudl be motivated to study for a test with questions like this?

Rather than having to pay for costly fortifications, armies, and navies, this country enjoyed free protection provided by nature. Furthermore, for more than a century, British subjects manned and paid for the costly navy that policed and defended the Atlantic and provided this country cost-free added security.
The country that benefited from the added security referred to above was which of the following?
(A) Germany
(B) Holland
(C) Sweden
(D) United States

I read this question to my mother. She looked at me, gave the answer and said "Even I knew the answer to that one!"

Of course, my mother underestimates her intelligence but still. She hasn't been in school for a while and doesn't deal in the history realm.

I'm starting to ramble here because I'm getting bored (the obvious result of too much time on my hands and not having any money to go do something with)

On going to the doctor

I know. two posts in one day. I couldn't decide what to post on and since I have full speed internet access I decided to do both.

This morning I went to the doctor for a physical.

Mom scheduled one for Laura and when she discovered that I was going to be covered under her health insurance scheduled one for me asked if I wanted to have one.

I figured that since I was going out of the country in July (at the time that's what I thought...the trip's been moved back until late October) I should make sure that I'm healthy first. Afterall, I hadn't had a physical in four years, just before I moved down to Charleston.

I'm praying that the insurance company won't drop me because I'm technically not a full time student at the moment but we'll see how that works out. I'm trusting God to provide.

Anyway.

I got there early. My appointment was for 9:30. I ended up arriving at 9:10 although I was shooting for quarter after.

I thought I might actually get out of there within a decent amount of time because the nurse took me back, took my weight and what not and finished her end of the process before 9:30.

Now all I had to do was wait for the doctor.

[Side note: because the office is affliated with the University some of the nursing faculty must work at the clinic during the summers or what not because I saw one of my professors there. I have to admit that I wasn't a particular fan of hers but I'm just thankful that she wasn't my nurse. :D]

I saw in that room reading the book I'd thankfully brought along with me for more than half an hour (probably closer to forty-five minutes) before the doctor came. She didn't actually do any of the examination stuff then. She simply asked me questions about family history and other such stuff. Then she left again.

I changed into the gown and waited.

When five minutes passed I got my book back out and read for another twenty minutes or so.

The doctor returned (just as I put a piece of graham cracker in my mouth by the way...lol), did the examinations, told me that I'm really healthy, to stay that way and I could go.

I spent an hour and a half of my day in that office just to find out what I already know...I'm healthy.

Well, at least I can count the blessing of health.

On road construction

A few weeks ago I noticed a sign warning everyone that traveled on my road (well, the one that my subdivision is off of) that one of the bridges would be out from 6/12 until 8/21 (or some date close to that).

When I first read that sign I groaned because I remember when the bridge at the other end of the road was out of commission.

I'd just started coming home that way from work and had to switch things up. Of course it wasn't that big of a deal but... I think you understand. Now, about two years later the bridge at the other end is out of the commission just when I started coming home that way from my teacher's assistant job (not now of course because school is out for the summer). Get the picture?

Well, once work started we had to change our routes a tiny bit. On a normal day we don't drive down that way on the road. When I needed to go to the library it was midly frustrating because it felt like I was going completely out of the way. I put up with it though because I knew that I would be gone for a little over three weeks of the time that they were scheduled to work on it.

I have to admit. It was kind of fun to be able to drive on the wrong side of the road in order to bypass the "bridge out" sign.

Unfortunately, my fun is over.

Get this. Two days ago my mom calls to tell me that the sign just beyond our subdivision was down but that the other one wasn't. We couldn't figure out what this meant. She told me that all the construction seemed to be gone from the bridge and that the bridge was paved.

Well, when I left a couple hours later for work I actually had to stop at the entrance to my subdivision to look for oncoming traffic on the bridge side of the road.

Here's what I can't figure out.

The first bridge that was out of commission for work actually took a month longer to finish than had been projected.

This bridge finished in under a month. Construction took barely two weeks to complete.

When have you ever heard of that?

On graffiti

When my mother called me this morning I wasn't expecting the news that she told me.

Apparently this is the season for gang initiations. The fact that this happens in my hometown is surprising enough. Then comes the news that my church was a target.

The doors to the main auditorium and a pillar nearby were painted (to put it nicely). One of the pastors mentioned that it reminded him of his time in Chicago.

I don't know. Doing harm to another person's property...and a church at that...seems so foreign to me...so wrong. Then mom called with more news. Two of the staff members had their front doors painted as well. She asked me to check our front door but thankfully nothing had been done.

This is the part where it gets scary. Whoever damaged the church did not randomly pick that church out of the three churches in the general area. Whoever damaged the church knew the addresses of at least two of the people who worked there.

My stomach sank at the news. Most likely...someone within the church acted as the perpetrator.

See, to me the idea of doing something like this is completely foreign like I mentioned before. I know that is because of the work that God is doing in my heart...the fact that I have grown up learning that things like that are wrong.

The person who did this? Well, if they were a part of my church then perhaps they grew up with the same knowledge.

Chew on that for a while.

On high schoolers

One of the girls that I work with at my new job at Cool Beans is a high schooler. From looks alone I would have guessed that she was in college at least...especially since she had been working at Cool Beans for over a year.

Anyway

If we had been in high school together we definitely would not have run in the same circles. Most likely she would not have considered me a worthy object to make friends with (not that I think that she's snobby or anything but I think you understand).

The past two days (the two days that I've worked with her) some friends have come in and talked to her (there are many...many slow spots during an evening). When this happens I try and busy myself with other work somewhere else in the restaurant so as not to seem obtrusive but of course I end up hearing their conversation.

Wow. Was I like that in high school? I keep thinking that I wasn't but I guess at some point I was to some extent.

Then I got to thinking. All this time I thought that I was of a similar age to her (older of course) but then I realized that I am six years older than she is. Wow. Yeah, it's at times like this I am very glad that I have a college degree and a plan so that I won't end up in a job like the two I have (not that they are bad or anything) for the rest of my life.

Hmm...that's all I have for today.

On the working of God

I failed to trust God this morning.

How do I know this?

Well, first of all and most obviously I almost broke down this morning when I realized/learned that one of my coworkers could have very easily taken the breakfast Paul called me in to take.

I didn't really want to work from seven until ten (I wasn't sure of my Cool Beans schedule yet).

Now we get to the part where God stepped in and opened my eyes to the obvious.

I checked my schedule at Cool Beans and I wasn't even scheduled to work tonight (obviously because I'm writing the entry at the time I would be working) and not just that but God arranged my Streetside delivery schedule so that I had two Spartanburg deliveries, came back to Greenville, took a lunch break and then picked up a mere two very close Greenville locaitons.

The end result?

I finished my Streetside duties in tiem to get home and work out and stillb e done in time to get over to Cool Beans.

I won't bore you with the details. I'll skip right to the good part.

My schedule won't always be like this but for today it was and I think I know why. For some reason (obviously unknown to me) God decided to work very plainly in my life today to put to rest all of my silly fears.

On memory

I normally don't work on Fridays. The volume at work is usually less than half of normal. Yesterday though I did work. (We did have only five or six orders but I took two of them).
I went out to Easley and Liberty, both places that I had gone before. For me, the trip down memory lane came when I delivered to liberty.
That was an office I went to before...a year and a week ago.

How do I remember you ask?

That's where the memory part comes in.

As I delivered there I remembered sitting outside in Big Red (our big cargo van) reading my book on China. There are other details that I remember about that particular delivery but I won't bore you and relate the otherwise inconsequential details.

The fact that I remembered was what struck me at the time. I remembered the exact date because of other associations that I had made such as the association of when I started the book, the office itself and etc.

I've often marveled at my grandfather's memory and wondered how he can remember exact conversations from fifty years ago. (yes he actually does that) I would love to have a memory like that and perhaps I do.

I remember things that my mother doesn't remember (things that involve her as well) and other things like that.

Things like yesterday make me marvel at memory. It really is a fascinating thing. God certainly does work in mysterious ways.

On entering the real world...among other things

Two weeks have passed since I walked across that platform (forgetting to turn and smile at the massive audience) and out of the grips of Bob Jones University.
Yes. In case you didn't know... I am now a graduate of Bob Jones University.

To be honest I don't feel all that different. It is the summer time and I would be doing everything that I'm doing anyway.

Talk to me in September when school starts back up and maybe I'll feel different.

I don't want to talk about normal things in my life...although that is good fodder for writing. I think I'll try to put down something interesting that I come across in my various jobs.

Here's something interesting that happened last Thursday when I was making a delivery for Streetside.

I got to go to the Bank of America building downtown. Now, I have to say that trying the find the correct parking lot for the building is rather confusing. There are three options of parking areas and of course I chose one of the wrong ones. The parking attendant almost made me pay but I wasn't about to (especially since my wallet was in the trunk at the time). I told her I had just pulled in and needed to go to the Bank of America building.

Anyway, that's not the interesting incident that I wish to relate.

Once I got in the building with my loaded cart (which I'm glad that I decided to rearrange the food in my car in order to fit it in) I got in the elevator and headed up to the seventh floor.

Thankfully an employee came along and helped me into the area where I was supposed to go and the room where I was supposed to set up.

Two men sat at the end of the long table closest to the door watching some sort of internal Bank of America interview with an investor or something. They didn't seem to mind the interruption.

Moments later an older almost matronly-looking woman entered the room with finger poised at her lips, shushing me when I wasn't making any noise.

With her voice moderately low she told me that I was early...that I wasn't supposed to arrive until 11:45. Speaking softly I apologized and told her that I was told that the eating time was 11:45.

She didn't let me finish my sentence before she told me to be quiet again.

I gave up protesting and told her I would be as quiet as I could (even though the men didn't seem perturbed that I was in the room).

As this woman was telling me to be quiet I recieved the distinct aura of "holier-than-thou" coming from the woman. In her eyes I was the low-level delivery girl and they were the Fortune 500 investment bankers...obviously better.

I had to restrain myself from thinking poorly of her and wanted to throw in her face the fact that I had just graduated from college with a degree in history only two hundreths away from suma cum laude and was working to save up for my Master's.

I guess this just goes to show you that prejudice still exists and that it exists here where I live.

On falling off the wagon

No. I haven't become an alcoholic or anything (though I could legally purchase alcohol lol)

If you haven't noticed, which I'm sure you have...I haven't posted in over a month.

That's my fault.

I could say that it's because I've been busy (and I was at first) but now I have tons of extra time. I have simply gotten out of the habit.

I'll move on to writing since that is ostensibly what this blog is supposed to be about.

I've been trying to write a poem lately. I have to for creative writing. This is defnitely a stretch for me. I am not a poet by any stretch of the imagination and certainly not by my teacher's imagination.

I chose to write in a sonnet form because I knew I needed some sort of structure in order to get some sort of poetic rhythm. It definitely is harder than it looks. I think I scratched through seven or eight different versions of the first stanza before I got to what I wanted. I didn't change the subject...just the sentence structure and all that lovely jazz.

I have a new found appreciation for poets. It is definitely hard work to create a beautiful poem. For my part I will leave that to those who feel they have talent in that area.

Since I don't plan on ever publishing that poem I'll probably post it up here.

Only thirteen more class days and three exam days until I graduate! (26 until the actual day)

On becoming fluent

One of the desires that I've long harbored is to become fluent in a language other than English. The romance of the concept has always fascinated me...the idea of being able to express my ideas in words other than my native tongue. (I don't know if I'm conveying this as it appears in my head.)

Perhaps this desire arose within me as a consequence of my love of words and how things are expressed. I don't know.

In high school this goal of fluency became much more concrete. I'll know that I've reached that point when I can dream in the other language (at this point in my life it's Spanish).

I think I'm getting close. :D The incident that I will relate in just a moment is what sparked the idea for this post that I should have already posted two days ago.

I go over to my grandparents on Tuesdays and Thursdays in between school and work and this particular Tuesday I happened to spend a few minutes talking to my grandfather about my paper for History of Africa (social customs/ideas in South Africa that facilitated the spread of AIDS) and I don't remember the exact context but I was explaining that there was a "rejection" or "turning away from" of a certain idea. Yet as I started my gesture the only word that came to mind was "rechazo" a Spanish word that roughly translates as the above. Even now, in my mind, only that word expresses precisely what I wanted to express.

You tell me. Is this a sign that I'm becoming more fluent?

On respect

I hear that a lot from my students.

There's only one problem. Even though they may not put it in these words...they demand respect from everyone but won't show respect to a person if that person doesn't respect them. Now tell me? How is that supposed to fly?

It doesn't.

I had two boys literally on each other today and at least one punch thrown.

My group for club is not the best but I'll leave it at that.

Here's my dilemna.

Most if not all of the behavior problems at work come from the root of pride and protecting one's own. You would never believe how angry these kids can get when another says something about the mother. "Your mama" to the extreme.

Their defense when I confront them is always "Well he said..." or "She hit me first..." or... you get the picture.

I think I could talk to them until I'm blue in the face and tell them repeatedly that if someone says or does something unkind to them they walk away and tell the teacher. (Doing something kind in return would be an absolute miracle in the true sense of the word.)

They get this stuff at home too. That's what their parents tell them to do--hit back that is.

Who knows. I guess I just needed to vent.

Coming soon. My short story.

On being sick

I have often said that I make one of the worst patients. I absolutely hate being sick.
I was in bed pretty much all day yesterday because if I got up I'd start to feel nauseous.

I still don't feel that well today which is why I'm at home and not at school. I'm trying to catch up on homework...seeing as how I accomplished absolutely nothing.

This is a blah post but I wanted to get out a little bit.

On writing papers

I know that I’ve had a post similar to this before but bear with me. If I remember correctly, I think I’m heading in a different direction than that post.

I’ve always considered myself to be better at writing fiction than nonfiction or at least I should say that I feel much more comfortable writing fiction than nonfiction. I remember the one time I had to write an article when I was on staff of my high school newspaper...pure torture. Sure, no one had any problems when I was done with it but the process was most certainly torture.

Almost every time I write a paper of any significant length for a class I feel the same way. (Magnify that feeling ten times for my senior history paper last semester). I remember thinking that my freshman English paper was junk and completely inadequate in so many different areas when I handed in. On a rough draft where the average score on the return (and this is average of the student body mind you) is in the D range imagine my surprise when I receive back a paper with the score of 57/60. A. I still didn’t think it was adequate enough but of course I wasn’t about to argue with the grade.

Bringing this in relation to the present.

I am in the midst of the torture sessions in writing all of my papers this semester. (Although I got a big relief this morning when I found out that my Linguistics paper could be written in English...and the presentation too :D... writing papers in a second language is not fun lol).

If I let myself think about all that I have to do and the caliber that I want my end result to be I could very easily become overwhelmed.

Perhaps I bring this all on myself. I can’t help but set the bar high. I think that something inside of my knows that I need to set the bar high in order to keep myself motivated and working. That way, when it all comes back I won’t be utterly disappointed because there was plenty of room to fall before I got below the critical level.

Does that make sense?

I’m sitting here at my computer with my head on my shoulder as I type wondering if that past sentence will seem as confusing to anyone else as it does to me. :D

It’s late so forgive me.

We’ll see how things go.

A minor note (of hope!): I counted the actual class days left until the end of the semester (excluding weekends, and exams and such) and discovered that if my calculations are correct... less than fifty class days remain of my college career! Hah... I think I’ll be doing more than a few of those calculations as the day draws nearer.

(I’ll be getting close to my Hispanic/Mexican roots too... I graduate on May 5th.)

On the scene of conflict

Here it is. Let me know what you think.
I don't like using the terminology "ex" but my teacher wanted us to establish the relationship right up front and that was the only way I could do it and not go over my word count.

“What are you doing here?” Victoria asked. All of her muscles tightened in fear when she looked at her ex. She refused to acknowledge him by name.

“Come on, Vicky,” he said. “Let me in.” He slipped his hand around the partially open door.

“My name is Victoria.” Each word sprung from her lips like bullets. She resisted the urge to slam the door on his hand and hurt him like he’d hurt her. How dare he come here? She thought. How dare he show his face after what he’s done?

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes and tried to push the door open farther.

Victoria placed her foot against the base of the door. He stepped away.

“I’ve always called you Vicky.” He said as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair.

Freshly highlighted, no doubt, she thought.

“My name is Victoria, not Vicky,” she said. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” She didn’t look in his eyes.

“Uh...your hair looks kinda wet.” He avoided her question again. “Did you just get out of the shower?”

“Chad!” His name escaped her lips before she could think. Victoria covered her mouth and looked up. His green-gray eyes held her captive just like before.

He smiled with those perfectly formed lips. “I knew I could get you to say my name.” He leaned back and stuck his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

He thinks I’m going to let him in, thought Victoria. That’ll never happen. She’d slam the door in his face if he so much as stepped towards it. She looked at the full glass pane. An image of shattered glass and his face beneath the shards flashed before her. Why can’t he just leave before I start acting like him? she thought.

He smacked his lips. “Nice place you’ve got here. Why haven’t I seen it before?”

Anger seethed within Victoria like the copper pot she just put on the stove.

“I work here,” she said barely keeping the lid on the pot. “You’d better leave before I call the police.”

He laughed and fingered the fringe of that red and blue-checkered shirt he always wore.

Victoria slammed the door and twisted the gold-colored lock. She saw his mouth drop open as he stepped toward the door. Victoria grabbed her phone from the table behind her. When she looked up, he was gone.

On writing short stories

For Creative writing the next large project (I think...a fiction essay is mentioned on the syllabus but I don’t know what that entails) is the short story in two drafts (rough and final of course).
I haven’t written very many short stories over the course of my writing career. Perhaps that is because I don’t read many of them. I’m not exposed to them. I’ve been reading full length novels for most of my life.
Be that as it may... I have to write a short story and I am almost completely stumped as to an idea. Actually as I sit here and type this an idea that I had earlier just returned to me. (I think I’d forgotten it...help me remember Juliette and her father) Anyhoo...
We read a past student’s work today in class (who just happens to bear the name of the university but is not the president :D) and it was pretty good. There were some overall aspects that I didn’t like but could easily learn to deal with them. I absolutely loved the second scene. But one of my biggest problems with the whole thing was the way the story neatly rose and fall. Everything wasn’t resolved of course as a less talented writer may have been tempted to do but something in my craves a full story...novel length.
We’ll see how this project goes.
I almost forgot that I was going to post my scene of conflict. I’ll do that for the next post.

On first tests

I have several of those this week.
One format I really like. My Early National Era teacher gave us the questions a week ago. I'll be e-mailing my essays in to her tomorrow probably. (I'd like to look over them once more).
Other formats I'm not fond of but I have to deal with them.
Tests in this category:
Spanish Lit...tomorrow (I've had her tests before so I know kind of what to expect)
History of Africa...Thursday (This is the scariest one...I'm not at all sure what to expect and my brain kind of gets fried just thinking about it)
Spanish Linguistics...Friday (I'm not sure how this one's going to go but we have a day devoted to review tomorrow)

Now that I've listed all these out for you I do have a point. Wow! (Sorry...I feel sarcastic at the moment and I have no idea why :D)

There's something about the first test that is utterly terrifying yet reassuring. It's terrifying in the sense that I have no idea what to expect but reassuring in the fact that I will prepare as much as I possibly can for the test and if I do poorly it's because I didn't know how to prepare for that teacher. Still, I don't like to do poorly.

Honestly, that's the only little bit of profundity I have in my brain at the moment. Next time I come I'll post my scene of conflict assignment from Creative Writing. (That's a funny thing... I said I would try to tackle it and make it the best I possibly could...prove her wrong... well, all of my Creative Writing assignments have gotten pushed to the bottom of the totem pole. Hah. We'll see how it goes)

On South Carolina winter weather

Today has been such an answer to prayer.
Even though I often laugh at how South Carolinians respond to even the chance of snow (if the power goes out, the milk is going to be the first thing to go :D) I really appreciate the day off that it gave me today.

At school today was supposed to be the Day of Prayer but because of the chance of inclement weather the administration made the decision ahead of time to make the Day of Prayer/half Day of Rest into a full Day of Rest (I know... shock). They would rather reschedule the Day of Prayer for later in the semester and have everyone able to attend rather than miss all of the town students.

That alone caused great rejoicing in my heart. Why? Because I got to sleep in. :D The busier I become... the older I become... the more I appreciate the occasional day of sleeping in.

Then, this morning when I awoke to find that there actually was snow on the ground (and on the street most especially) I pretty much figured that the public schools would also be canceled and I wouldn't have to work today either. :D Yup. That indeed was the case.

I now have almost a second Saturday this week. How lovely is that?

On days like this when there is actually snow on the ground I almost wish that I lived slightly further north where there would be snow on the ground more often and where the snow would stay longer but I honestly don't wish that. I always remember how much I don't like the cold (my fingers take double the amount of time as the rest of my body to warm up and they get cold twice as fast).

Who knows? Perhaps God will have me teaching somewhere up north in a few years. Hah... now wouldn't that be a riot.

Enjoy this day of lovely "winter" weather.

On rest

Recently I’ve noticed that I “go” from dawn to dusk... practically. I get up, go to school, either go work on some homework and then go directly to work or go directly to work from school. From work I come home (most of the time), exercise (most days) eat supper and work on homework until it’s time to go to bed.
I’ve discovered that I am generally more tired than I have been before.
This constant motion can be more exhausting than...
I’m starting to ramble and I’m not making much sense (perhaps that’s also because I’m writing this in class).
I will mention one more thing.
I got my first writing assignment back and to my utter dismay I received a C.
Yeah. I didn’t take too well to that.
I’m not the kind of person that likes to be “taught” how to write. I’m almost of a mind that it to a point, cannot be taught.
Just after the class I considered dropping it because of what I mentioned above and because that would make my load light and I wouldn’t have to deal with her.
Another part of me though is determined to stick it through, get a handle on the homework load and prove her wrong.
I don’t know if that’s possible though.
With God’s help...

On term papers

None of my classes actually uses the term "term papers" but most of the major papers that I have to write are just that.

Side note: Is it something about different educational cultures and using "term papers" to describe the huge project for the class? The term seems to be pretty popular in fiction use... such as for a character in college or high school or something. Just ruminating.

Back on track: Because most of my classes are upper level classes (400 or 500 level... most 500s can be slightly altered and used for grad credit aka add a paper or something) there are large projects.

Unfortunately, it doesn't feel that I've really gotten started on them. I feel like I'm falling behind but when I mentioned something of the sort to a friend of mine (a fellow history major, sophomore) she laughed and said something to the effect of 'we're not all like you'. Granted, that's true.

I would rather start working on the project as early as possible to get it out of the way so when the end of the semester rolls around I don't have the immense pressure on my shoulders to get things done. (Of course, that gives me the dilemna of feeling like I need to do something...lol)

Have I really started working on all of my major papers for the semester? Hah, no. I need to though. Most of my daily sort of homework is out of the way now and I will work a little bit on those other papers today. We'll see how far I get though.

Maybe something later I'll actually talk about writing and some realizations I've come to about some of my stories but for now school is my "master". :D

On Victoria Plame

This is the character sketch... post two revisions... enjoy.

Tomorrow I might talk about what it was like to write this.

Stray strands of hair brushed the woman’s face as she stood gazing. Occasionally her gloved hand rose to brush the strands away, but the wind simply pushed them back. She wore snow-white gloves on hands that burrowed out from her puffy coffee-colored jacket. A tuft of cotton wandered through a hole near her waist and another hole by her wrist. She smiled dreamily. Her mouth moved slightly as if she were speaking but the little girl beside her paid no attention faced the frozen lake. A snowball splattered against her jean-clad leg. She brushed the flakes off. A smile snuck threw the reproving glance she conveyed to the miscreant.

“Victoria! Victoria, can I play with them?” Victoria’s gaze followed the pointing finger of the little girl. “They’re building a fort! Look! They’re people your age there too. You can talk to them while we play.” The girl’s words tumbled forth.

A sadness filled Victoria’s eyes as she down. “No Libby, we don’t know them.” She spoke softly. I barely heard her.

“You never let me meet anyone new.” Libby moaned.

“Don’t whine.” Victoria pushed back her jacket sleeve. “Besides, we don’t have time. Your piano lesson starts in twenty minutes and it takes about fifteen to get there--“

“Five minutes please!”

Victoria’s laugh burbled like bubbles from a partially unstopped drain. She shook her head and leaned down to Libby. Their noses kissed. “No hon. You know what I always say.”

Libby’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t be late. Be early.”

Victoria laughed once more. “Something like that. Come on dear. Let’s get going so Mrs. Button doesn’t wonder where her pixie-child is.” She slid her gloved hand into Libby’s. She looked up at me and smiled before walking away with Libby.

On routine

I know that as a writer I shouldn't really like routine. Common notion would put a writer as a person who loves adventure and never doing the same thing twice in order to add to the mental ammuntion.

You know what I say to that? Hah!

I don't know if this goes for all writers but I love routine. My sister would probably say that I love it (and am driven by my schedule) a little too much. Be that as it may... the beginning of a new semester is difficult for me because I have to settle into a new routine and of all the semester to semester changes that I've had... this one is the biggest.

I brought up the topic though because I do believe that I have settled into a routine of sorts. I still have to give it a week or two more so that I can fit in a couple of new things (observation for Spanish Linguistics and an Easter production at my church) and get into the research and writing part of all of mhy papers.

I have a set way of doing things when I get home such as putting my bag down so that I can hang my jacket up right away and then close the blinds and etc. (I won't bore you with all of the pesky little details :D)

I think that having a routine helps me to remember little pesky mundane things that I would otherwise forget.

Now that I've said that I have to go and get started on my homework (specifically my character sketch).

On settling in

Have you ever noticed how you can fit a lot more of something when it's filled in the crevices and settled in? (I'm thinking something akin to Tetris here.)

Well, that's how I feel right now.

I've reached the end of my first full week of the semester and I think things are beginnning to settle in. Yes, I will be very busy this semester but I don't think it's an unheard of busy. Of course, I haven't started working on my papers yet but if I judge how much time will be used up by my papers based on the amount of "free" time I have today and the fact that I *shocker* let myself watch TV all Thursday and some last night (lol) then I think I won't have anything to worry about.

I feel like I should be working though. Heh.

I'm trying to make it so that Sundays really are a Sabbath for me, in the true sense of the word. I would love to be able to maintain throughout the semester the "policy" of no homework on Sundays. Of course there may be times somewhere in the middle of the semester where I'm forced to change that but I'm really looking forward tomorrow.

I've been working on my homework so much in order to get it away that I don't really have anything that I have to do tomorrow. (In addition I get a pretty long break between services because I don't have nursery duty tomorrow and I don't have to go to Vespers :D)

This creative writing class is going to be harder than I thought. I've never been graded on my writing ability before. Then there's the fact that I don't think I always agree with the teacher (I won't give the name because the teacher is a pretty well known author in the CBA market) on what is good writing.

Here's an example. On the first day of class she gave us a sheet of paper that had several pictures printed on it. In order to get a sample of our writing she told us to pick one and write what was inspired by that picture.

The next class period she read a couple of those in class. She happened to read one that used the same picture I did. Was it bad? No. Did it make me want to read more of the same? No.

The other example she read referenced a picture with three older ladies on the beach. The author took an interesting perspective but to me it seemed... I don't know. It just didn't jive as completely believeable.

Anyway. Our first graded writing assignment is coming up on Thursday. A character sketch. I used the picture for this week's vingette for mine. It took me forever to get going. A lot of times when I'm fleshing out a character I like to get into their head and figure out their thoughts. I couldn't do that in this assignment. She wanted us to give an objective portrayal of the character without giving too much exposition. *blows hair off forehead* :D

It took me forever to figure out what two traits I wanted to portray in her and the corresponding complexity and then how to go about portraying those limited to the space that I had. I suppose that it was a good exercise for me but... *le sigh*

We'll see how this semester goes. I just hope that she's not one of those teachers that likes the kind of writing that she uses but no other. You know what I mean. (I suppose it might be helpful for me to actually read one of her books. lol)

On pushing forward

I didn't feel much like writing a post today but I need to keep up this daily exercise in writing (and it's something else I can cross off my to do list :D)

I reached a point today...brought on by a headache probably... that made me realize that without God real life sucks. Yup. I don't normally use that word but it fits the situation.

With my new job (and the commute that it requires) a good twenty hours a week are spent working when before with my minimal job at Streetside I spent on average six to ten hours working with a five minute commute.

It's not that I don't like my job or learning or being busy. I actually love all of those. I love my jobs and the kids (even though they can be wild and extremely disobedient). The commute is fine (I don't love that but I listen to books on tape while I drive... right now it's Robinson Crusoe). I really do love being busy and having a to do list which I can cross off things with my lovely red clickable sharpie.

I'm rambling though. I don't have any really point to make. I'm just rambling to take up a post. Expect more of these to come in the future weeks. I consider them still relevant to my craft simply because when I write these posts I'm exercising my skills in the craft.

On feeling overwhelmed

I mean that to say that I have a lot to do this semester.
List: (:D)
Linguistics Paper
Spanish Lit Paper
Creative Writing pieces (poem, short story and etc)
History of Africa Paper
Early National Era Paper
Weekly lesson plan
Bi-weekly club lesson plan
Work Monday through Friday
Fifteen hours of school
Normal homework for above
Breathing... no j/k

As one can see... writing (for my own purposes) is no longer on this list. I simply don't have that much free time to devote to it so it has become a "if time" thing rather than a must do.

I don't feel worried. Contrary to how I've felt in the past I feel quite calm. I know this is what God wants for me. The more I become immersed in this afterschool program the more I realize that I love teaching (just not elementary school... too many subjects) but I also love reading, writing, seeing new things and etc.

Hmm... maybe I should have titled this "On balance"

On time

No. Don't expect anything profound. I'm not going to talk or muse on time in general. My intention is to deliberate over how I use my time and allow other things besides my writing to take priority in my time use.

On Thursday school starts up again (with a different schedule than I planned but I won't get into that). Tomorrow I start my new job. Suffice it to say starting tomorrow I have much less time to devote to the things I've gotten into the habit of doing over the break...almost a full month.

I don't honestly have a plan for how I'm going to integrate these new ideas and exercises into my schedule with school (and eighteen credit hours of it) and my new work.

I want to throw myself one hundred percent into everything. I don't have to do that for school. I could get straight Cs in all of my classes and still graduate with honors but at the same time I knew that going into last semester and the idea of getting a B (even though I could) just seemed distasteful to me so I worked as hard as I could. I want to throw myself one hundred percent into my job because I know that it is going to be a lot of work and that this line of work is what I want to be doing after I finish all of my schooling. It's just going to take a chunk of time.

Then there's the thing that I know that I need to do (and do it one hundred percent) but don't always feel like doing and that's eating right and exercising. I know I'm not fat but I also know that I'm not fit and I don't like that. (I'm digressing).

I don't know.

That pretty much sums up what I'm feeling right about now. I don't know how the next four months are going to play out. I don't know how the next year is going to play out. I'm not really sure of anything. Lovely place to be in, isn't it? I say that with a bit of sarcasm but when I take a step back and look at it I know that I really do mean it. This is a lovely position to be in. Because I know very clearly that I don't have the answers or know what I need to do in order to accomplish my responsibilities and goals, I also know that God does and that He will provide those things to me in His timing just like He denied me the job at church in order to give me the job I now have.

If God wants me to succeed at my writing. I will. He will create the time. He will give me the words to write and the knowledge to correct. This really is the best place to be.

On the rain

As I sit here listening to music through my computer I can hear the rain pound the ground outside.

I've always loved the rain, a good downpour. It feel so romantic (in the literary sense of the word). Whenever I hear it my mind conjours up an image of a cozy dim room, perhaps in a log cabin, with the rain pounding away outside and a fire roaring in the stone fireplace. I sit on the couch with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, a good book in my hand and a cup of delicious coffee in the other. I always feel the sudden impulse to sit and write as I did just now.

This is just a fanciful image though. Besides my grandparent's house I have never lived in a house with a fireplace and the fireplace in their house hasn't been lit for years.

Of course, the romantic scene works best when the clouds are obscuring the sun outside while I'm thinking about it. Right now the sun has found a hole and is pouring in through the window over the sink... just to my right.

Oh well. This image never lasts long enough. The heavy downpour lasts for a minute or two and then dwindles down to random spurts... the kind of weather I care for the least.

One final note on the rain. Even though I absolutely love the rain, the heavy downpour, I really can't stand the little spurts that drag on for hours. All that water does is make puddles and get the hem of my pants (or skirt) wet and a little dirty. We can't have everything can we.

On Mark Twain

When I approached this set my view was "tainted". In comparison, I have not studied H. G. Wells but I have studied Mark Twain. No decent American Literature class would be complete without at least a brief survey of Mark Twain.

In addition, I own "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court" in a separate volume. In the preface or on the back cover (I can't remember), the editor tells the reader that though "Connecticut Yankee" is not as dark as pessimistic as the works Twain published towards the end of his life, hints can be seen.

So when I approached this combined volume I kept that fact in mind and actively looked for these differences.

I think even without this knowledge the difference between "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" and "Puddin'head Wilson" would jump out.

In Tom Sawyer there seems to be not a hint of actual serious thought on the part of Tom, a carefree, careless, young, rambunctious (I know that's misspelled). The stories told by Twain are also lighthearted. Take the whitewashing of the fence for instance.

In "Puddin'head Wilson" only a trifle remains of the previous humor. The story revolves around the travesty of slavery and the no-good nature of "Tom Driscoll" (aka... ah, I don't remember the other name). There's stealing, dueling and murder.

"Puddin'head Wilson" is nowhere near as dark as all of the works of H. G. Wells, but still, a strain of pessimism and "darkness" is detectable.

This series of posts may seem boring (I think they are boring to me as well) but I consider them a stretching exercise (not just the analization but also the reading itself). Analyzing another author is never easy for me but it can be a very useful tool to see how other authors convey certain qualities. Hopefully though, I will finish London and Dickens soon and be able to move onto other "lighter" fiction.

On H. G. Wells

For the first post of the new year the topic is rather distasteful. I will explain that later.

For the past year or so I have been steadily increasing the size of my collection of classics. For a person who loves to read as much as I do I found my lack disturbing. :D A great aid to increasing my collection has been Barnes and Nobles Classics collection.

Unbeknownst to me B&N has recently published an "Essential Writers" series which contain the entire collective writing of authors such as H. G. Wells, Dickens, Austen and many others. This past Christmas my father purchased four such books for me.

This morning I picked up the "smallest" of the four and determined to read it. Four hours later I have accomplished my purpose and my brain is reeling.

I am obviously familiar with Wells' Time Traveler, War of the Worlds and to a brief extent, The Invisible Man. The other stories were new to me and all filled with an oppressive depressing air.

Strains of degressive evolution, man's stupidity, and hopelessness fill the pages. When I read nine hundred of these pages I come away feeling both a little depressed but at the same time extremely thankful for the hope that I have in God. What kind of life led Wells to brood like this and come to the conclusion that the human race was doomed?

I imagine that his life must have been depressing. Perhaps he was spurned by a woman or some other tragic event. I don't know although I could easily look up the information on google or wikipedia. Finding out what a person's life is like through that manner doesn't feel nearly as intriguing or rewarding.

Reading Wells makes me wonder just how much of oneself an author imparts to a novel. Can a truly depressed and hopeless person ever write something to make another smile? Can a person filled with the Spirit of God and a joy that cannot be quenched ever write something that would send another into a depressive spiral?

I really don't know where I'm going with these musings. I suppose that this is an outlet for my brain after being cooped up in the heavy air of Wells' Britain.

Today I am not going to attempt to read any of the other three--Dickens, Twain or London--but instead express my own thoughts for a little while and read slightly lighter fare.

Perhaps as I read the others I will muse on what made that man tick. Why is it that all of the seemingly "great" authors write such heavy fare?

On editing

I think I have mentioned several times already that part of my "writer" training is editing a "current" project of mine.

I have thought a lot about this recently... especially since I just finished a sporadic half hour of editing.

Editing the stories, making them the best that they can be has always been my weakest point. I used to be the kind of writer that fell in love with every little couplet of words and thought that change would simply ruin the entire piece. Besides, it took too much time.

While I still agree with the time aspect, I know now that if I want a product of my hands to be worthwhile I have to be willing to invest a little bit more of my time. I think that the pride that comes from looking at a good finished product is an excellent reward to time spent.

Also, though many seemingly harsh marks made by my history professor (of all people) I have learned to fall out of love with my words. I now take a step back and look at the story almost as if someone else wrote these words. I find that the critic's job is a lot easier when you don't constantly think about the fact that this is "your baby".

When I started the editing process on Children of the King I fully intended to read the story through, get a grasp of the overall story line and then return once more to the beginning and start making criticisms. I didn't make it. Currently I have numbered page 69 of 272 pages give or take some funky formatting at chapter breaks.

Right now I'm being easy on myself and simply pointing out the wrong stuff but not actually fixing it. We will see how much of a happy camper I am when I go back through the manscript a second time and force myself to change when I marked.

On... well... I'm not sure yet

As you have most likely gathered from the title... I'm not exactly sure of the direction in which to head.

As of yesterday I finished the last book on my to do list. Granted, I have other books to read but by reading them I will not be crossing anything off this list. Because I have reached this point I figuratively have more time to work on my brainstorming, and plotting (I actually have done none of that) and editing.

As usual something crops up to take away that time. There is one rather large thing that took up most of my time this morning but I will not get into that because that is definitely a personal thing and I am trying to keep this blog about my writing and my ups and downs. The other thing has to do with school and textbooks.

I felt so accomplished when I ordered all of my textbooks right at the end of first semester. As the books started arriving I noticed that one of them didn't quite fit the class that it was ordered for. That textbook would be my Art History book. It turns out that somehow I ordered volume one for a second semester class dealing with Renssanice (I know I spelled that wrong but my brain will not get the right spelling out and I do not feel like asking anyone) Art until modern art.

To make a long story short I found the second volume but the price doubled while I waited to recieve my most recent paycheck. After a slight headache and some more searching I found what I think is a combined volume (I hope) for much much less.

Of course, I say all of this to say that my morning is completely gone and I have accomplished little of my goals. Of course, if I do not end up crossing everything off of my list at the end of vacation that will not be a bad thing.

I think the most important thing about my list is improving my writing ability. Of course I have mentioned that many times recently. I don't think I can mention it enough. I need to keep telling myself to get out there and expand my writing ability.

The more that I write the more I discover how rusty my skills are... like the kickstand on my bike. We went for a ride on the trails yesterday but before I could get started I had to wrestle with the kickstand just to get it up in a ridable position. Many times when I work through various exercises it must be like wrestling with the kickstand to pull it up. As I was writing this paragraph I remembered the direction I meant to take earlier... several hours ago... before I sat down with this entry.

Once again, while we're at the beach we are working on a puzzle... a very frustrating puzzle I might add. Instead of having a square or rectangular shape, this puzzle is formed in the shape of an eagle. The outside edges are definitely oddly shaped and from one to another one doesn't know which direction the piece will end up fitting.

I wrote the previous paragraph to say that several times while I was working on the puzzle I found myself getting frustrated and wanting to give up. This entry is getting long and I am starting to ramble so I think I will bid the entry goodbye and return when I have something profitable to add.

On continuing

I'm not sure if I will end up continuing this series of titles but this type seems to work the best for what the post is about. Perhaps as time goes on I will have exhausted the resources of the clever little word "on". Until then I plug on. :D (no pun intended)

There certainly is something to be said not just for starting a major project... which is what I consider this (a lifestyle project if you would)... but also for continuing. As I approach the New Year this seems a fitting topic to be dealing with. Many people make large New Year's resolutions... or at least resolutions that they have no hope of keeping throughout the entire year. I don't think that people realize just how long a year is.

I certainly didn't.

Last year at this time I joined a year long writing support group I guess you could say and determined to write 250k in a year. As I discovered... that's the easy part. I wrote my 250k + words in probably what would amount to six months solid work. I spread it out over the year of course.

I say that to say (getting back to my original direction for the post) that New Years Resolutions/continuing a long-term project/goal is more difficult than it looks. I intended to make myself a "writer" by devoting so much time to actual writing. I certainly put myself on the path but because of my time limitations I did not really go any farther than that first step or two.

Becoming something different than one is certainly has its challenges. I think that I've always been a writer but now I am honing my skills and working towards a more definable goal.

Keeping up the routine that I have set for myself is a difficult task. I let myself get swallowed up with work and reading all of the books that I put on my to do list as well. I often find it much easier to open a good (or sometimes not so good) book and rest on the laurels of someone else that has had to do the hard work.

Does this seem like rambling to anyone else? I most likely am rambling but I think there is a discernable path through the woods.

P.S. Can anyone help me find a better word (or at least some alternatives) to seem? I "seem" to be using that word a lot in my writing. thanks!

On procrastination

I had a completely different direction in mind when I set about to write this entry but as I looked at the dates of the other entries I changed the direction.

I mentioned earlier that I created a rather gargantuan to-do list for Christmas vacation in order to make sure that I didn't waste my vacation. Several of those things on the list were blog posts and brainstorming and editing.

I hate to admit it but I did not start the editing process for Children of the King until just yesterday. I realized that instead of having a simple half hour three times a week for the entirty of vacation I now have enough notations to make for half an hour every single day and a couple days with at least an hour. Hopefully I will use my time wisely here at Hilton Head and progress far enough this week to put myself back on track.

Speaking of editing, when I started work on Children of the King yesterday I realized just how much Historical Research and Writing has affected me. In that class I had to criticize every word of my writing to make sure that it conveyed exactly what I want it to convey.

Even though I don't think that I will end up writing history (historical fiction is more likely) this class helped me in more ways than that.

Thoughts on a letter

I received an interesting piece of mail yesterday evening, a piece of mail I had completely forgotten. What first caught my interest was the return address. It was from Miss Thornton or rather Mrs. Zeismer. I wondered what her reason would be for sending a letter after this many years. I thought that if she was sending a Christmas card/letter that it was odd for her to start after three years of nothing.
What I found inside the envelope was not a letter from her but a letter from myself to myself. I know that sounds strange but once I saw the letter inside everything came back to me piece by piece.
I looked back at the front of the envelope and realized why I’d recognized the handwriting. It was my own. I remembered writing the letter all those years ago in journalism class. The funny thing is that even as I sit here and look back on it I don’t remember the exact details surrounding the assignment but I vaguely remember the act.
I found one part of the letter extremely amusing... the part where I hoped that Caleb and Elena would stay together because they were perfect for each other but I still thought that Caleb was annoying. Well, four years have passed. Caleb turned out to be a jerk, dumped Elena, married another girl who is now expecting their first child. Interesting how things change over the years?
It is also interesting how things don’t change over the years. Four years ago I hoped that I would have a significant other and be able to marry soon after I finished college. You know where I stand on that. I also still had much the same writing/journaling style. I can look at that letter and see where I’ve improved and yet where I’m still the same.
I admire Miss Thornton (she married after I last saw her) for remembering to mail those letters four years later. It certainly has been a thought provoking time loop for me and most likely for the others in the class who received their letters.

On beginning

I sincerely apologize to my non-existent readers for my lack of posts. Hah. Actually, I apologize to myself. Never mind that train of thought. How about that for an odd beginning.

Christmas break has officially begun and I have grand plans for my time. I am determined to make good use of my time and not waste it by sitting around and vegging or some other form of that such thing. I've made myself a to do list and hopefully that will motivate me to cross everything off that list.

I have several writing things listed including blog posts. I consider this a form of enhancing my writing... making it second nature. The other two things I have included are things that I usually avoid like a plague, things that separate a casual writer from a serious, dedicated author. I think you know what I mean. These things are editing Children of the King (Abby is still editing Memoirs... when she can find it) and plot and character brainstorming.

yes, these are things that I don't normally do but now I know that I need to after plugging through Nanowrimo without clear direction for my novel.

Now that I've gotten myself started on this journey, invisible readers, keep me accountable. :D