Monday, Monday

It's funny that this song is before my time, but it evokes such strong emotions in me.  For one thing, I absolutely love groups that can sing in harmonies.  There's just something about multiple voices singing their part (clearly no less), and yet together they make up an incredible tapestry of sound.

So it's been a week since my last post and although I didn't survive the A to Z challenge, I gave it a shot.  Sometimes I think my life is just too chaotic.  After all, anytime I try to plan anything long term, it doesn't really work out the way I'd like.  But I did have fun with the challenge anyway, even if I didn't quite make it to the end.

There's something good to be said about facing a challenge, even when we think we might fail.  This is true in just about anything we do, but especially true in writing.  The challenge of writing not just one time (i.e. first draft) but going back over and over it (and sometimes re-writing whole sections) is a daunting task.  Whenever I feel like quitting completely however, I think about something I've achieved fairly recently - graduation from college.

Even though it's been over a year since I managed to graduate, I can still feel the thrill of accomplishing it.  It's a rush of adrenaline, an overwhelming feeling of success.  And I'm still riding that wave, using it propel me forward towards more successes.  Feeling that again is worth the mountain of effort it takes to get there - in any activity I engage in.

It's kind of funny though.  Old habits die hard, and even though I embrace challenges, I experience self doubt all the time.  For example, every time I submit one of my assignments for grading, I sit there on pins and needles until I get the grade back.  So far I've been doing absolutely stellar and haven't had to revise a single assignment, so you'd think I'd be fairly confident by now.  But no, every time I submit one, I still have that gnawing doubt in the back of my mind.

This has been a post of rambles and stream of consciousness, but it's been that kind of a Monday.  Here's hoping Tuesday holds something good!

Feelin' Bad About Feelin' Bad

There are certain things that bug me in life.  Being late to an appointment.  Misspellings of easy words.  Mispronunciation of a language foreign to you (i.e. non-Spanish speaking people trying to "fake it").  But I think the one thing that will bug me for a long time is that I did not get the chance to meet Beth Revis.

How did this tragedy occur, you ask?  It shouldn't have, right?  After all my excitement, my putting up a counter to keep track of the days, you'd think nothing could keep me from runnin' on down there at the appointed time.  Nothing, except for the most bone-weary, soul-sucking cold I've ever had.  

On Thursday I was feeling the beginnings of it, but it seemed to be nothing more than a regular cough.  By Friday morning, I was barely able to stagger out of bed.  My entire body felt like it had been pounded on with a sledgehammer, and I had to go to work anyway.  By the time I made it home from work on Friday, I could barely stumble over the threshold and crawl up to my bed.  The rest of the weekend was not much more than a blur of sleep and more sleep.  Oh, and alot of coughing and body aches.

So here I am on Monday evening, coughing now and again, feelin' bad about feelin' bad.   I even missed my turn on the Blogchain, another occurrence I regret.  I will put up a post tomorrow on it, but I still hate not getting it in on time.  I just don't have the energy this evening, and I would rather do the post proper justice.

It's funny.  I've had opportunity to meet celebrities before, but these days I'm way more excited to meet all of you.  Phil Collins might be my favorite musician of all time, but I'd find it more fun to meet any of my fellow writers than get even a single autograph by good ol' Phil.  Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.

Anyway, I'm sorry Beth, that I didn't get to meet you.  It would have been awesome.  And I'm sorry I don't have pictures and details for everyone else.  Maybe I'll get the opportunity at your next book tour, Beth.

Monday Madness - Workin' In A Coal Mine

There are times when I truly wish I had chosen another career path.  As you can see from the lack of posts last week, it was a busy time for me.  Between all the chaos at work and trying to finish up my class, I had absolutely no energy.  Working a 17 hour day on Friday until about 11 pm didn't help much either.

Yeah, the life of a glorified Server Administrator isn't all it's cracked up to be.  I know most people think we just hit a few buttons now and then before getting back to our Xbox game or something (heck, my wife mimes that very activity at me all the time when she feels like giving me crap).  After all, computers are usually quite orderly.  They do what they've been told to do.  When things truly break however (as opposed to those things we IT guys like to call features of the software), it's rare that the problem is easy to fix.  This is when us IT guys put in the extra hours, working through the night if need be to make sure Joe Schmoe can get to his email on Monday morning.

Needless to say, I didn't find much time (or energy) to say hi to everyone and put in a post or two.  I actually feel a bit bad because I didn't even stop by anyone's blogs this weekend.  I like to keep up on what everyone else has to say, even if some days I don't have anything to say :)

In any event, I'm performing cleanup from Friday's mess and still wondering why I chose this particular field.  Maybe that's why I'm trying to become a better writer.  Heck, if it weren't for the pay, I'd probably just shift gears and do it full time.  Sigh...

Thursday Thoughts - Not As Old As The Number Indicates

Just a couple days ago, we celebrated my oldest son's 17th birthday.  My wife had a harder time of it than I did, saying she felt really old.  Here I am almost 40, and yet I have difficulty feeling old.  I just don't see 40 as being old, in spite of the fact that so many people seem to see that particular milestone as a big deal.

One aspect of getting older I notice all the time is my inability to remember things from days long past.  For example, I tried to picture my son when he was a little guy, and I drew more blanks than an old Western action flick.  Thank you for pictures we've taken over the years.

I thought back to what our family was like when we first had the little tyke, and it amazes me that we survived.  When our first son was born, I was working as a rental sales agent at Avis Rent-a-car.  Since sales have never been my forte, I only made the basic wage - not the sales incentives we got from helping renters purchase the insurance.  Yeah, don't get me started on what a scam that is.

Anyway, I am stunned when I think about the fact that our little family survived on only $800 a month.  That's net, not gross.  Our rent was like $375, so that meant one whole check paid for it.  The other check then had to cover food, diapers, formula (since my picky child wouldn't take anything but the most expensive can available), gas, etc.  And that had to be spread over the entire month.   I'd love to tell you we survived it without incident, but the truth is, we screwed up our finances and credit more times than I can count.  Don't pay this bill so we can buy diapers.  Don't pay the phone bill so we can have groceries.  Somehow we managed not to get evicted every month, but don't ask me how.

Though there have been some challenges we've faced over 18 years of wedded bliss, I have to acknowledge that my family has seen more blessings than troubles.  And through it all, I've somehow managed to keep my attitude more positive than negative.  Which is where I'm going with all of this.  Bear with me, I'll get there.

I'm headed to 40 next April, and I still have to grin.  I've got a 17 year old son and an almost 12 year old son (and I couldn't be prouder of them both), a beautiful and wonderful wife (who is still the most selfless, caring person I know), and we're all still together.  I have the capability and opportunity to work towards my Masters degree, which is no small thing.  I even find time now and then to enjoy a good video game - a definitive indicator that I've yet to grow up in some ways LOL.

At this point, 40 is just a number.  Maybe when I hit 50 I'll feel old, but I hope not.   I kind of like staying a kid at heart.  That way I have an excuse for why I refuse to grow up and join the rest of you adults out there :)

As an FYI, I may or may not be posting over the next four days.  The fam and I are headed down to Santa Fe, NM for a small vacation.  I will still have my laptop since the pressures of homework never stop, but I don't know that I'll remember to put up any posts.  I hope everyone has a great weekend and I'll see you all when I get back.

Sudden Loss Is Harder...

Suldog has graced us with the reposting of a memoir concerning the passing of his cousin Joey. I highly recommend you stop by and read it. The emotion coming through is amazing in it's intensity.

It got me thinking about people in my past, instances where I have lost people I cared about suddenly. I had a cousin by the name of Mark who one day hung himself in the barn at the age of 16. There was no warning, no note for those left behind. He was just gone. When the call came, I was stunned beyond words. He was a few years younger than I, and yet even now I struggle to find words that adequately express my feelings.

Mark had a decent family - not perfect, but seemingly good enough. One of the things that struck me like a hammer was the vast number of friends who attended the funeral, with every one of them expressing emotions of loss. I remember being jealous (and feeling guilty about it) that so many people cared about Mark. He had always possessed a confidence and charisma that I lacked, and despite the fact that he was younger, I always felt diminished in both experience and age around him.

Mark was a skilled skateboarder, and just before his death, he had been offered a place on a national skateboard team. Just another facet that makes his death so incomprehensible. His parents were well off, and Mark had really never wanted for anything. From all outward appearances, Mark had a life full of talent, success, friendship, and love. For some reason, that was not enough.

I was going through boxes in the garage recently and stumbled on the only picture I have of Mark. I had to take a moment, and a part of me wanted to mourn all over again. There are so many questions only Mark could answer. I don't know that back then I could have helped him with whatever struggles he was going through, but thinking about it now, I still wish I could have done something.

It's unfortunate that some stars are extinguished way before their time, but that is sometimes the way of things. I guess I just wish I knew why (in this particular case) so that this memory could be laid to rest.

Suldog, I hope you eventually find that moment of peace where memories are only fond ones without pain. May we all find it.

Wednesday Wramblings

The title for this post have you wondering what the heck I'm up to today (no comments about the spelling either). I suppose Wednesdays should be WiP Wednesdays. I'll explain why this isn't so. Monday I was going to put up a post called Monday Muse, and it was going to be a free writing exercise. Do you think my muse wanted to talk? Heck no. Tuesday was to become Tuesday Teaser, with pretty much the same intention. Suffice it to say that I have kicked the muse out of the room and I'm just going to shotgun it.

I've started book two of the Twilight series, because I promised my son I would read through them all, no matter how painful the experience. The first book was pure torture. The writing was inane, the storyline predictable, and overall it was just a terrible read. I am trying to go into book two with a positive attitude, but it's been really difficult to maintain. For those of you who love the books, you'll probably want to skip this section of the post.

For starters, the vampires are repeatedly described as cold and hard (not very well, I might add). Okay, I get that. What makes the author think I need to be reminded once more that Edward Cullen's skin is like ice, that he's a stone statue, that Bella will freeze to death if she sits next to him too long? You've made it clear that he's cold. Check. You've made it clear that his body is like hard stone. Check Check. No need to press the concepts, they're not difficult to understand. The fact that the MC constantly thinks about these aspects of the man she loves makes me question her sanity and intelligence. Get past it already.

I'm not going to rip the book through and through, but I will say that this is going to be a long painful trip. Maybe I can claim a sprained eyeball? Le Sigh (as Elana is so fond of saying).

What can we learn from this poor writing? When we're describing our characters, we need to do what we can to avoid repetition. We have to assume that the reader will remember the fact that our fair lady has long blonde tresses, that she uses a red hair tie because red reminds her of the bloody roses growing near her dead lover's grave (this is an example, not an excerpt from Twilight). Once we've put this description out there, we should feel confident that the image has been burned into their minds and doesn't need repeating unless the situation really warrants it. Subtle reminders of a MC's physical characteristics are okay, but we don't want to bash the reader over the head with it repeatedly.

I got an email from NaNoWriMo yesterday, and it struck a chord. I was wavering on the edge for this one, but I've concretely decided to make it a goal. I will be participating this November, and come the 30th, I will have a 50K+ MS drafted. It's pretty daunting to me, considering the fact that I will need to write over 1600 words per day. But I'm going to jump in with both feet and give it a shot.

Lastly, I want to pose a challenge to you all. I received an blogger award on Monday, and although the award was really awesome, the listing of my seven favorite things was really the reward. That might sound a bit odd, but as I worked through the list, I found myself celebrating my life. It was really fun, especially as I reflected on what that said about me (thanks to Galen). My challenge to you all is this - List your seven favorite things (either in a post or here in comments). You may surprise yourself (and the rest of us) with what makes the list.

I was surprised to find that one of the items involved my writing. A year ago, that wouldn't have been anywhere in my mind. Ain't it funny where life takes us?

A Couple Things On A Monday

First off I must apologize to Christy over at Juvenescence. She awarded me a Kreativ Blogger award, which I am very thankful for. I was supposed to put a post up about this on Friday, but I either forgot or just got lazy (you pick). I also am going to refrain from following all the tenets of this award (that of picking seven other lucky awardees to give it to), but I have a good reason for this. I had such a hard time trying to decide on ONLY five people for the last award, and I just don't want to go through the emotional turmoil again. Yes, I do take these awards very seriously (even if they are meant to be just for fun), and I am surrounded by so many talented people, it's too hard to pick from the crowd.

I will follow the other requirement though, that of stating my seven favorite things:

1. Tickle wars with my youngest son.

2. Watching my oldest son become a man.

3. Movie night with my wife.

4. Doughnuts (particularly long johns).

5. Writing a scene that makes my skin crawl.

6. Playing video games (yep, still a gamer at heart).

5. Riding my motorcycle through the mountains.

The other thing I wanted to mention is that ResAliens is running a contest, and you can win a copy of Offworld by Robin Parrish. Go here for the details.

Finally, I'm in editor hell today (again) as all the writers I edit for at Brighthub.com will be submitting their articles (which should have already been submitted days or weeks ago). This is going to be a busy end of month.

Tyrian, Part 2

This is the continuation of a musing I started a while back. Comments are welcome, hope you enjoy the trip.

Stars and planets became streaks of light, eagerness propelling him forward at an incredible pace. Too bad they weren't right. Too bad their minor planet wasn't the center of the universe. Then maybe he wouldn't have to fly so far. Tyrian's wings of pearl were folded down his back now, his arms stretched forward like a superhero.

It had been eons since his last visit with the man. Well, man wasn't really an appropriate label, but there were no words to describe someone of his magnitude. It was quite humorous watching the man work though. For someone with so much power, he was laughably humble and eccentric. He'd heard the man speak of a life long since gone, when others like himself used to work together creating and discovering. The concept of multitudes like him was too difficult to imagine however. Of course, he'd once thought his race was immortal as well. That illusion had been smashed repeatedly. Shaking the dark thoughts from his mind, Tyrian flew on, wondering if he wasn't already too late.

The immense tower floated near the edge, the blackness of space a river continuing onward into darkness. Behind him were countless stars and planets, a multitude of projects. As Tyrian slowed, he saw matter coalesce within the curtain of night, forming a opalescent sphere. Well, at least the man was still alive. This must be his next project.

He paused at the door, wondering if he should knock. Impatience decided for him however, so he turned the handle and pushed. His muscles bulged with the effort, but he was able to force the huge stone door open with a grunt. The hallway echoed his sandaled footsteps, and balls of soft light appeared to each side.

"Hello?" Tyrian hated interrupting the man, but this was important. And he was one of the few who could show up uninvited. The man loved his seclusion, no matter that everything he created was about to go up in flames.

"Come on in, Tyrian. You know the way." The familiar voice was distracted as usual.

"Sir, I can see you're deeply involved in another project, but..." He was struck dumb, the sight leaving him speechless. The creature before him was not familiar at all, instead looking like an intricate formation of amber crystals. Were it not for the eyes, Tyrian would have thought he had stepped into a cave.

"Oh my, forgive me. I forgot about my appearance." Instantly, the gargantuan talking crystal was replaced by the familiar form of an wizened old man. He still towered over Tyrian, but the eyes were their usual shade of light blue. "I was imagining myself as a Kinan. Quite interesting, if I may say so myself. I think the race will do spendidly on their new world." The old man turned back towards a large table, an image of the new planet hovering over it.

Rather than ask who the Kinan were, Tyrian started over. "Sir, I need to talk to you about Lazun. You've been absent a really long time. He's bent on destroying everything, sir. Those who don't join his ranks are being murdered."

"Yes, yes. Lazun has been a problem for some time now. There's always one, I suppose. Such a bother too. Maart tried it with the Axems, Crynat almost obliterated the Nemor. The aftermath always requires so much cleanup." The old man turned, his wrinkled hands rotating another image this way and that.

Tyrian walked around the smooth marble slab, standing before his master. "He's going to destroy them, sir. Aren't they your favorites? They used to be all you could talk about." Fury overtook him as he slammed his hands on the table. "They deserve your attention!"

The old man looked his way, eyes full of sadness. A sigh escaped as his shoulders slumped a bit. "Tyrian, you came here looking for my intervention, but you already know the answer to that. Everything I've ever done has a purpose." He swept an arm out, indicating a row of small statues along the wall. "Each of these races have been challenged at one point or another. Some failed to use what was given them, and some survived." He turned back to Tyrian, placing a hand on each shoulder. "You are no different, my son. You were given the job of protecting them from things they are not ready to see or comprehend. You are there to silently guide them, just as they have their own things to take care of."

Releasing his charge, the old man started walking towards the massive staircase going up. Tyrian was shaking, his fury at the man's ambivalence barely held in check. "And what happens when we all die, sir?"

The man paused, looking over his shoulder with a sad smile. "Everything ends sometime Tyrian. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a new world to build." Tyrian gaped as the man strode up the stairs.


Let me know what you think. Like the rest of my musings, this is first draft stuff. And thank you for any comments.

Inkheart Got Me To Thinking

We sat down last night to watch a movie and stumbled on the film Inkheart. Although I hadn't seen too many previews of it, my youngest son said it looked like something good. So we went ahead and ordered it through Comcast.

The movie is from a book of the same name (written by Cornelia Funke), and the premise is that there are certain individuals (known as Silvertongues) who can literally bring things out of books when they read aloud from them. I always like these types of movies, because they resonate so strongly with me as a writer. Even if the movie isn't great, I can feel the storyline going on behind the images.

There is one interesting aspect however, that really got me to thinking. At one point in the movie, the author of the book the Silvertongue has read from is told that his characters are walking around in the flesh. So what does he do? Well he strides out to meet the character of course. I thought this idea had some really interesting implications. What if I could meet a character from a book in person? Which ones would I really like to meet, and which ones would I be terrified to meet?

One of my favorite characters is The Walking Dude from the Stand. He's truly diabolical and just plain cool. I don't think I'd want to meet him on the street however, since he is evil personified. Actually, since it's implied that he just might be Satan, maybe I've met or seen him already and haven't known it? I also don't know if I'd want to meet any of my own characters. My writing process is so jumbled and messy, I'd be afraid my characters would want to string me up for not fleshing them out enough.

There is a scene where a character goes back into the book Inkheart, aware that he is merely a character in a book. Could he change the path of the book, since he has attained awareness? How would we feel if our characters didn't really like the roads we were taking them down (post publication)? In my case, the characters usually tell me what they're doing anyway, so I guess it wouldn't bother me. But what about in your stories? Would you be upset if suddenly your MC decided he liked the blonde thin girl instead of the saucy brunette you'd taken pains to set him up with?

Would you relish the opportunity to meet a character in the flesh (yours or any other one)? Are there any that you'd rather not meet?

A final note - I really like books like this that get me to thinking. It's fun, even if the answers are merely theoretical. Sometimes the answers can lead me to more new stories.