Home Is Where the Heart Is

I used to be what I considered a kind of hermit. I didn’t like people, and would hardly leave my room for much of anything. Even food was often forgotten. Looking back, I think it was some kind of teenage phase. Now, it’s quite strange to be able to stand people and occasionally want to go see them.

I used to think that nowhere else could be like the home I grew up in. That nowhere else would make me feel nearly as safe and protected. Then the divorce hit my family like a bunch of trolls storming the house and I learned a lot about what makes a house a home.

The saying ‘home is where the heart is’ is definitely true. I feel safe whenever I’m with the one I call my heart. It doesn’t matter where it is. The only physical place that I consider home though, is my car. Perhaps that’s because it’s actually mine and I know I won’t lose it. (Knock on wood!)

I have learned that home is not a  physical place anyway. Humans have an instinct to begin their own families. It’s okay for the home you grow up in to no longer feel like home. It’s part of growing up, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Pen Ran Away!

Long time no see!

 

 

 

 

I have this pen that I’m obsessed with. Quite a lot, actually. Enough that I’ve had at least four of these expensive pens in the past four years and at least the same amount of pencils. It’s the pen by Dr. Grip. I love it. Too much.

I had two of them in working order not very long ago, but they began disappearing. One would be there for me when I needed it, but the other one would be nowhere to be found. They would switch places every few days. It was as though they hated each other. It seemed like the first pen was upset at me that I had replaced him so soon after he’d gone missing that one time.

Eventually, the pens grew to get along. At least somewhat. They must have figured out that I didn’t want to use them both at the same time, so they just had to coexist in the pencil box if they ever ended up there. Which they didn’t.

I forgot about the fancy pens for a few months. I will admit it. With the pens, I forgot about my dream of being an author and threw all of my effort into something else. When I came back, stressed, feeling lost, and wondering what happened to have made my brain such a scraggily mess of TV shows and dog grooming, the pens were gone.

It’s as though they won’t forgive me for leaving in such a frenzied hurry to find some way out of the mess I was in. But that’s alright. These pens survived with me though my college writing (attempt) carrier. But now that I have a full time job and am striving to survive this thing called young adulthood, I can’t be there for them as I had once wanted. At least not for now. At least not yet.

So this is my message to these inanimate objects known as pens, thank you for being there through everything. Helping me write down my feelings, helping me plot the life of a character, helping me brutally kill that very character off… Though I’m now working 8-6pm 5 days a week like much of the world, it doesn’t mean I’m gone! I’m still here! I still want to be an author, and I will never let that dream go. 

I’m too much of a cheapskate now to spend the money on a new one, so I want you to always know you have a spot here. So, might you consider returning?

Finishing

A new story idea entered my mind this morning. My mermaid story is still my main project, but this one was definitely too good to pass up.

As I saved the sparkley new document in my ‘books’ folder, I realized how many unfinished books I actually have. I’ve been writing on a computer since I was around 9 or 10, just to give you an idea. Taking that into mind, there were only a couple that were completely lost by those awful computer crashes of my childhood. When I was between the ages of 13 and 15, about all I did was start new books. Fanfictions, novels, daydreams, fake journals, everything. They were all new. Sometimes I would even create two or three new stories a day.

Thinking of it that way, I have a lot of unfinished books.

I’ve determined that starting new stories is the best part. The 1/4 mark to the halfway mark is the worst, and then the downhill slide compares to nothing else.

To be completely honest, I haven’t finished many books. Fairy’s Heart is truly the only one that I would consider finished. At least in the way that I wrote The End at the bottom of the page. It took me 3 years to write though, and by the time I finished it at the age of 17, my writing ability had increased drastically. I was so shocked at how horrible my characters actually were and how bland many of the scenes seemed to be. Fairy’s Heart, though still one of my fondest book memories, sits on the shelf waiting for me to start from scratch again. 

Looking through that folder, I am falling in love with the stories again. But I need to stick to the ones I’m on now. The mermaid one, and now this completely unknown one that I came up with this morning. I hope, pray, and pine for another finished book. I crave the ability to write ‘The End’ on another story. 15,000 words? 75,000 words? 120,000? I don’t care how long the novel is. I want to find the ending one day. I owe it to these beautiful characters.

To the other writers out there, what do you do to get yourself to the ending point? How do you keep the shiny objects of new story ideas in the background for a later date?

Resolutions of 2014

The beginning of 2014 marks many things for me. One of them being that this blog is a year old. I started it as part of a new years resolution (that I really didn’t want to call that) to write an hour a day and find other writer friends on the internet. The first one was a ludicrous goal that I didn’t succeed at. The second one kind of worked.

This year, I’m going to give in and make resolutions. I’m not going to be afraid to call them that, either. Because 2013 sucked and I don’t feel like doing anything the same as last year.

So, without further ado, here are my resolutions. Both insane and feasible. 

1. Smash the insecurities!

    I smash because I despise them. They were the biggest hinderance of 2013 there was. I was hurt by many people I cared about this year and a list of insecurities that would fill up a bucket after being shredded to bits took over me. I can’t live with them. They’re going away. The end.

2. Smile!

    This one falls into place with the last one. I forgot how to smile for a long while this year. There’s not really another way to put it. I was miserable and I had no idea how to get out. Now that a smile is possible again, I never want to lose it. But I’m having problems getting it on my face as often as it was there last year…. I’d like to fix that. I’d love to be the happy person I was only a year ago.

3. Read 30 books this year.

   I’m not a particularly slow reader, but I’m not a speedy one. I want to read more. It’s the best stress relief ever for me. 30 books sounds possible for me, so I’m going to attempt it. I even discovered goodreads.com to help me with this goal. 

4. Finish writing two books. 

   I love to write. This one shouldn’t have to be a resolution. But it is. Because well, I have a problem with things like Netflix. 

5.  Keep room clean…

I like to think of myself as somewhat of a clean person. Then I look at my room and realize that’s a lie.

 

Those are the things I’d like to accomplish. Most of them seem somewhat dooable. Right? Well, I’m hoping so.

I wanted to thank all of my 50 stalkers for existing. I know there aren’t many who actually read these, and I know many of them don’t actually log in. It still makes me smile and gives me hope for the future. And for that, I wanted to give each and every one of you an internet hug – because hugs freak me out somewhat. Hugs take effort, people!

 

So, here’s to a much happier blog from me this year. Thank you for sticking with me, even though the insanity I called my life. You guys helped me through a lot. 

Happy 2014!

♥♡♥

“Wedding Bells?”

We’ve all done it. Or at least something similar to it. 

You log on to facebook and begin looking aimlessly around, hoping for something decent to strike your attention. Nothing really does. Perhaps a picture of a kitten or a long rant about soap or something equally strange, but nothing else. A picture of a young couple catches your attention and causes you to change your mind on getting off the internet and doing some work.

They’ve been together for quite some time now, You think. I wonder if they will be taking the next step any time soon?

The wondering is perfectly innocent. It’s a normal thing to ponder over. So, you look through the few comments to see if the answer is there.

It is. Someone already asked the question for you.

‘Aww! When are the two of you getting married?’ The random person says.

Of course, there is no response, but it makes you feel better as someone else was wondering the same thing.

The only thing is, the couple, though very happy together, don’t feel quite ready to add shiny rings to the relationship. That’s perfectly alright. It’s their choice. It’s better to know for sure on something like that after all.

But they keep getting asked the question.

Every time they see a relative;

“When are you two getting married?”

Every time they see a person from church;

“How are the two of you doing? Wedding bells?”

Even when they pass by family members;

“Is he gonna ask you to marry him yet?”

“Not yet.” They say in response to each one.

“Oh no! Is something wrong?” The immediate concern is quite extreme.

“No! Everything is great!” They rush to explain.

“Then…” The questioners just stand there and narrow their eyes ever so slightly. Just enough that someone might notice if they cared enough to look.

“We just aren’t ready yet. I’m only 20 and he’s 21. We’re really young.” The couple explains, trying to remain patient. However, they are screaming inside.

 

 

Because the question is getting old. And extremely pushy.

 

Procrastination Must Be Destroyed!

So, procrastination is a good friend of mine.We go way back… But our relationship shall be kept a secret.

Only, I think it’s time to end it.

It became a hurtful relationship. So… I must say goodbye!

How?

I have no freaking clue. Every night, I promise myself that I will actually wake up at 6 in the morning, do some yoga, make a healthy breakfast, get ready (even do my hair!) and then have a while to sit and read or write. A good start to my day before I have to be at work.

Now, what actually ends up happening is this; the alarm goes off and I hit the snooze button – even edit it for thirty minutes. When it decides I can’t snooze anymore, I do the required math problems to shut it up and go back to sleep until my next alarm goes off. This repeats itself until 7:30 or 8. I have to leave the house at 8:30.

Evil procrastination!

Of course, this cycle isn’t because I stay up late. I physically can’t. I fight dogs all day long, so I’m quite exhausted by the time I get home after dark. I’m honestly not sure how I get myself to exercise. (Seriously! Why am I not procrastinating on THAT?! Is that my way of procrastinating on my writing? Well… it’s healthy?)

Perhaps my over sleeping is because I’m getting too much sleep? I’ve heard that can be a problem too. It would make sense.

Sleeping besides the point, I want to write.

I want to finish a novel I’ve been working on for a couple of months now. I REALLY want to finish it. It’s a really good plot, if I do say so myself. It’s about mermaids…. and an evil scientist… and kidnappings…. That’s all the information I’m disclosing due to me being overly paranoid.

Why is it not finished? Why am I at a mere 14,000 words?

PROCRASTINATION.

Curse word, curse word, procrastination.

I’m procrastinating on it right now, in fact.

I must admit, I’m writing a scene that I’m not particularly proud of. I don’t like the setting, or how it’s unfolding. It’s a boring scene. One that needs to explode into flames and then ram straight into a shooting star and burn again. But I’ll worry about it more in editing. Right now, I want to finish the book so I actually can edit it!

Wish me luck…

So, my question is this; What do you suggest to get myself to stop procrastinating? How do I make this novel a complete priority?

Those who have been following me for a while know this has been something I’ve struggled with a lot. I honestly enjoy writing and reading, but if I get stuck in a scene that isn’t working right, everything stops.

Help?