On Claiming My Own Voice

I am white.  Cisgendered.  Heterosexual.  Able-bodied.  Neurotypical.  White collar.  Middle class.  Suburban American.  All of which can contribute to a feeling of not being particularly special and therefore not having anything particularly special to contribute to a lot of the important conversations going on.  (Black and white thinking, I know, but true.)

I also identify as a suicide loss survivor, mental health advocate, and individual who herself struggles with mental illness.  I work very hard in my role as a therapist to normalize the difficulties my clients face and to enable them to talk about everything from serious trauma and suicidality to every other thought that can make a person feel completely alienated and alone.  And I work very hard on myself in my efforts to not only practice what I preach but also integrate greater levels of spirituality and universal compassion.  All of which leads me to feel like I have quite a lot to say on the subject of mental health and its countless intersections within all of those aforementioned important conversations.

In the end, though, the most accurate term I can use to label myself (for as useful as labels can be) is human.  I think that best captures all the similarities and differences.  Not only of myself, but of everyone.  Human describes all people on the planet regardless of what they do or don't identify as.  And therefore dehuamization in any form is what I hate the most.  And one of the most dehuamizing experiences a person can have is being denied their voice.  Especially when the person denying it is them.

So regardless of how special or completely ordinary I may be I have to speak out.  About what I know and what I don't.  I have to share information and ask questions.  I have to point out what the world looks like from within my own skin and try to get a better understanding of what it looks like from inside others'.  I have to amplify my own voice and also hand the mic over to those being silenced.

It's not about being special.  If I believe in human rights then I have to believe in my own.  Especially the right to my own voice.

The Insucure Writer's Support Group: March

Thanks to  Lauren Hennessy, Lisa Buie-Collard, Lidy,Christine Rains, and Mary Aalgaard for hosting!

I wanted this to be an empowered post.  A "go get 'em", "fly your freak flag high" kind-of post.  But I admit it: I'm insecure.  I guess this is the place, though.

I'm currently going through the single most difficult personal issue I've ever faced in my entire life.  (And no, that's not hyperbole- I've had enough life experience by now to have some pretty dark stuff to choose from and this is the worst.  Though unfortunately I doubt i'll be able to say that on my death bed- but one battle at a time.)  This experience, not surprisingly, is flooding me with so much pain I can barely stay afloat.  And I'm trying, really trying, to access that stuff and use it because of the whole idea that the best art comes from the worst pain.

Here's the problem (and the source of my insecurities): it's some pretty crazy stuff.  I'm letting out raw, unedited psychoses on the page and putting it out there for the world to see and it seems (or i'm concerned) that it's too raw for anyone to connect to.  Of all my crazy analogies and memoir-style entries not a single one of them has gotten a comment.  (Not that I usually get millions of people here at this site but I get a few.)  And honestly, I don't really feel like it's fair to blame anybody for that.

As much as I advocate for the need to be raw and honest and put out there what you need to put out there I do recognize that art needs to be at least somewhat accessible- or understandable.  You can't make up your own language and then be upset when no one understands what you're saying.

And part of me thinks it's just a question of timing- right now, in the thick of it, I can barely even make sense of it so how could anyone else?  People take time to process and figure stuff out and the story takes on texture and an arc and ending- those are the ones that make the biggest bang.  Everyone who's written a memoir has already gone through the thing they wrote the memoir about.  Cheryl Strayed didn't start writing Wild while she was hiking the PCT.  Elizabeth Gilbert didn't start the first draft of Eat, Pray, Love while she was eating, praying and loving her way around the world.

So I guess i'm trying to answer my own question and console myself that there is a place for all this, just in a different time, with new perspective and understanding.  But that makes me wonder if I should be posting this stuff, if I should be putting it out there at all.  Or if the right place to say these things is in a journal where it can sit and marinate for a while.  And if that is the case, how do I keep up with writing everyday when the only thing that comes to mind is the pain?  How do I keep up with my year of writing dangerously when the stuff i'm writing is too dangerous?

I would honestly appreciate real feedback from folks who have struggled with these same questions.  Please, don't just say "hi"- say something real.  I need it right now.

Thank you.

Creating

Fragments and visions and dreams.  Random memories that invade the space between your ears when you're not paying attention.  A poem someone you loved once read to you.  Pain.  Love.  Confusion.  Passion.  That fuzzy feeling that comes from a few too many drinks.

And in the quiet, in the pause, in the moment between events- there are sparks.  There is kinetic energy.  There is raw, uncontrollable power.  There is the essence of the soul.

It comes out in rapid-fire brush strokes on colorful canvas.  It comes out as words placed in careful sequence on blank pages.  It comes out as guitar chord progressions and experimental sounds and heavenly movements of the body in the elaborate, infinite dance of life.

It is made of the intangible and visceral.  The imagined and the deeply felt.  The fantastical and all too painfully real.  And it is the essence of the soul that creates it.

Insecure Writer's Support Group- February 3rd

 
Thanks to this month's amazing hosts Allison Gammons, Tamara Narayan, Eva E. Solar, Rachel Pattison, and Ann V. Friend!

This month i'm feeling strangely secure as a writer.  I'm a little over a month into this writing every single day thing and it's going ok.  I can't say that I've blown myself away with my own creativity just yet but I can say that I've gotten more out of myself this way than I think I ever have before.  

The pressure to write everyday means that I can't- I absolutely can not- refuse to post anything I write.  So no matter how bad my inner critic may judge something to be and no matter how much I second myself I always end up posting anyway.  There simply isn't the time to be that critical, to revise that much, to agonize over each and every word. 

And some surprises have come out it.  The biggest being when- in the course of a single week- I managed to get five paintings and seven chapters of a story written for yoga.  Our assignment was to write a love story for heart chakra and my mind latched onto something right there and then that I needed- just needed to get done.  So I did.  No judgement, no 'this has to be perfect'.  And something poured out of me that I honestly didn't know I had in me.

So on the whole- it's working.  I'm writing- everyday.  And after such a long drought it feels good to have the juices flowing again.

On Not Writing For Anyone Else Other Than Your Goddmaned Self

It happens to the best of us: you read a post on Facebook from someone far more successful than you on how to write for your target audience and you wonder: who the fuck is even gonna read this shit?  In the midst of your purely psychotic {read: brilliant} story crafting the thought creeps in, interrupting your progress.

Perhaps in your more lucid moments the thought even turns into actual behavior: market research and analytical journals and the like.  Actual statistical probabilities, scarier-than-thou factoids and analogies designed to scare you straight.  This shit IS real.

But what if that's the whole point?  What if the stuff that comes out of you- the soul juice that you tap into when reality leaves the building and you're left with nothing but the crushing madness of your own existence- what if that's the whole damned point?  

What would you do then?

Would you give a shit about market research and financial logistics and mathematical regressions and trends?  Fucking trends.

Or would you say 'fuck it' and let the crazy, scary, sexy, devourer of mankind loose on the world?  Without judgement.  Without worry.  Without anything other than the pure essence of you.

Because me, personally?  I vote for the latter.

Insecure Writer's Support Group: Bev is Back!

 

Big thanks to this month's awesome hosts  L.G. Keltner, Denise Covey, Sheri Larsen, J.Q. Rose, Chemist Ken, and Michelle Wallace!

 

A little while ago (read: New Year's) I set a goal for myself.  It's a rather lofty goal and while I've only been doing it for a few days I'm already thinking it's the right call.  In spite of all the unexpected interruptions that will undoubtedly make it challenging I'm thinking it's just the fire I needed to get cooking again.  Here's the goal: write everyday for a year.  366 days (because of course I had to do this thing on a leap year!), 366 posts on this blog.  That's it.

I didn't set any other limitations on it than that.  Obviously, I'm hoping this will inspire a lot of fiction.  That's the whole point of the exercise.  But 366 is a lot and I'm not expecting myself to be a writing machine.  So there's gonna be a lot of non-fiction, too.  Memoir-style entries, book reviews, blog hops (like this one), thoughts about this crazy, life-altering yoga journey I'm on and a whole lot of other random and not easily categorized things.   No rules, no limitations, just writing.

And I have to say, it's going pretty well so far.  I've been pulling ideas out of these writing exercise books by Brian Kiteley.  The 3am Epiphany and the 4am Breakthrough.  They're gold mines for weird, introspective, deep, silly, intellectual and insanely creative prompts and there's a lot of knowledge about the art form in the pages.  It's getting the creative juices flowing and getting my fingers typing and after such a long time without that this has been a big buoy to me.

But, credit where credit is due: I am the one writing.  And I'd like to think that maybe one of the most fundamental lessons about writing is finally starting to sink in: you gotta write crap.  Stupid, incomplete, unpolished, insane, unintelligible and just plain terrible crap.  Why?  Because that's the manure the good ideas grow in.  That's where you plant the seeds for the brilliant bursts of life that grow and blossom and bloom into amazing works of art.

I've been hearing this a lot: creativity is like giving birth.  It's painful and super messy but in the end you wind up with something awe-inspiringly beautiful that's going to grow in ways you can't yet imagine.

I've been told these things for years.  I've been encouraged to give myself the gift of wild and reckless writing since as far back as I can remember- my earliest writing workshops in high school.  But I never got it, I never understood how you could let your work out there when it turned out so differently than that perfect idea you had in your head.  So for most of my life my inner critic ruled the nest and I edited myself so severely I nearly lost my voice altogether.

But I'm done with that.  I'm saying it with confidence now- DONE.  No more quieting that crazy, creative voice.  No more editing to the point of having nothing left.  No more judging and criticizing and scrapping my messy never-goona-win-a-pulitzer stories.  I'm letting them out.  Out of my head, out into the world.  And it feels good.

Yes, there's still a part of me that says "oh this is terrible" every time I read through what I've written.  But there's a louder, stronger part of me now that says "GOOD!" and slams down the "Publish" button with fierce, unbridled excitement.  Yes, it probably is terrible.  But boy if something wonderful isn't gonna come out of it.

So that's where I am today.  Less insecure than I've ever been.  Happy about finally writing again.  Bursting with ideas and tappy-tappy-tapping away on my keyboard like a two year old with a toy piano.  And all because I'm finally doing what i've been told to do for years: just write.  That's all.

It's finally sinking in.

Graphic Novel Review: The Sandman Volume 6- Fables and Reflections

This is the 6th book in the life-changing series written by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by some of the most brilliant artists on the planet.  If you're unfamiliar with the series but even remotely into... well, pretty much anything creative then you owe it yourself to check it out.  Start at the beginning, knowing that it warms up pretty quick, and let your imagination revel in this alternate reality that Gaiman has crafted.

By now, this series has firmly inserted itself into my psyche and with this volume Gaiman succeeds in sneaking it into memories where it previously wasn't.  The more I read, the more indistinguishable these characters and stories become from what I understand of history (which is the point, of course).  This dream king has now made his way into the old Greek Myths, added a taboo factoid to Roman history, inspired the endlessly popular Emperor of the United States (who I know from Christopher Moore's works even though he's found just about everywhere), jump-started Mark Twain's career, slightly altered the French Revolution, inserted a chapter into Slavic folklore, created a catalyst in Marco Polo's career, added to the pantheon of biblical characters and forever immortalized the golden age of Baghdad.   And all in one volume.

Each of the stories is steeped in the setting they invade with appropriate alterations not only in artwork but also language, theme, and character.  It's not just that Gaiman is a chameleon; he's the king of chameleons.  And all of it maintains the same dream-like quality he's weaved so subtly into the stories since volume 1.  It's very easy to drift off while reading a chapter, lose touch with reality.  Even while siting in a quiet, well-lit room on a weekday with all of its tasks and chores it's easy to look up at the end of a chapter and wonder if you've been dreaming.  It all has that same not-quite-real feel to it and it seriously screws with your senses.  (Which, again, is totally the point.)

The further I get into this series the more I wonder how I ever lived with out it.  It's so ingrained in my imagination now I consider it a part of me.  It's changing the way I imagine, allowing me to believe that all these stories were always in there, I just forgot them.  Just like a dream: you realize you've seen it, heard it, felt it before.  But you forgot, because you woke up.

2016: The Year of Writing Dangerously

(My vision board for 2016.  Note the left side, in purple.)

So, of course I have a lot of goals for 2016.  Meditate- every single day.  Read more.  (A lot more!)  Eat healthier.  Run more.  Stop wasting so much damned time on my phone.  Finish my 200 hour yoga certification.  Paint.  Spend more time in nature.  Teach a regular and ongoing yoga meet-up.  Get on the phone or skype with my awesome friends more.  Clean and organize.  I'm sure there are others...

The old me would have felt anxious with the number and scope of these goals.  I would've set challenges to try to get myself to do them.  That drill sergeant voice would've kicked in telling me to "GET IT DONE!".   The annihilator would've followed up with all the reasons why I couldn't.  (It's a viscous cycle.)

But I'm doing things different nowadays.  I'm approaching things with a gentler, kinder attitude towards myself.  What I was saying yesterday- it's not about the finished product, it's about getting super messy while making it.  I want to approach this goal with the reckless, joyful abandon of a two year old.  I want to soak it in.  I want to breathe.

So as strict as this goal may seem, it's not.  I'm not approaching it that way. I'm approaching it the same way I do my meditation practice- it's not about scrambling to make the time to sit and breathe for ten minutes.  It's about giving myself the gift of space in which to exist for ten minutes.  It's a break in the chaos of the morning rush.  It's a quiet moment that is just for me (and God, the universe and everything).  I want this to be the same.

I've won NaNoWriMo five times.  For five November's I've barreled past the 50K word mark.  And I did it by following the rules: being creative without judgement.  Not editing.  Writing like I was being chased by a shark and the words were the power to my lifeboat.  Swinging from idea to idea like a crazy, squealing, poo-flinging monkey.  Those are the rules of NaNo.

And they're the rules of The Night of Writing Dangerously- their annual event where they pack a bunch of writers into a ballroom in San Francisco and feed them coffee and candy to get them to write as much as they possibly can in a night to raise money for a NaNo charity.  (I've never been but if I lived anywhere near San Francisco you can bet I would have.)  Needless to say, in that kind of environment, a lot of a amazing stuff takes place.

So I want to approach this year with that same attitude: holding the space for that wild abandon to take place in.  (Thus, the title.)  Giving myself the gift of time to write.   Going at it with unbridled, enthusiastic passion AND the quiet wisdom of a yogini.  Combining all I've been with all I am becoming.

One year of daily writing.  For me.  And of course, I have to believe the rest of the world will somehow benefit from me finally figuring out how to tap into this wellspring of writing desire I've always had.

The rules I'm setting for myself are simple: write everyday.  Try to make at least one entry a week be fiction.  Don't edit (save for typos).  Be crazy, be daring, be dangerous.  But above all, have fun.  Don't hate it.  That's the real goal.  Writing while not hating writing.

I assume there'll be A LOT of non-fiction.  Me talking about yoga, about life, about whatever insight I feel like writing down that day.  I'd be lying if I said that's why I'm doing this but I'm not being so strict as to say that some pretty amazing stuff couldn't come out of that, either.  Hopefully there'll be some poetry.  I really like poetry and I'd love to write it without immediately judging and scrapping it.  And hopefully I'll finally get those stories- the ones that have been nibbling at the corners of my consciousness but I've never taken time to write because of my firm belief that they couldn't possibly come out the way I want them to.  That's what I really want to tap into.

Of course, I hope you'll all join me on this journey (otherwise, why would I be posting it online?)  But really, it's about me.  So even if no one ever reads this stuff- if it never goes anywhere, I never try to publish, not a single thing other than me having written comes out it- that'll be more than good enough for me.  It's practice, afterall.  It's the journey, not the destination.  It's the space in which to write... dangerously.  ^_^

Random Stream of Consciousness Entry (And Gratitude)

Today is Friday which for some us (the more organized variety) means Celebrating the Small Things.  I originally thought I would do the same but realized that this isn't really that kind of entry- that's just not where my head is.  This is a stream of consciousness kind-of entry.  A no holds-barred, explosion of neuroses, here's all the crazy stuff in my head at the moment kind-of entry.  And needless to say it's more for me than it is for anyone else (so no harm done if you feel like skipping it)- I just need to write.

I'm thinking a million things all at once, feeling a million impulses all at once, being pulled in a million different directions.  I want to write- novels, poems, epic tales of heroes winning their own private battles with themselves.  I want to sign up for NaNoWriMo next month and knock a beautiful, fully expressed story out of the park (as if it ever works out that way).  I want to finally write up at least twenty stories I've had in my head or in various stages of being written down but still desperately needing editing and post them all here.  I want to join a writing group and publish an anthology.  I want to submerse myself in the madness of creativity and surrender to everything that comes.

I want to finally get caught up at the damned office.  File all those papers, write up all those notes, finish the endless deluge of paperwork from every admission and discharge and supervision note.  I want to shut off my phone and my e-mail and just get it all done.  And I want to catch up on my freaking mandated marketing- phone calls and e-mails and invitations to link up at future networking events.  I want to get on management's ass about my training and getting it scheduled so I can prove how useful I am.  I want to return every phone call, every e-mail, every missed "oh I was supposed to.." there is.  And I want no time at all to pass during this magical process so I have time to do what I really want to do.

I want to breathe in the ecstasy of fall.  To forget about phones and television and traffic and simply exist.  In a deep forest where the sunlight barely penetrates the trees, in a thick pine grove where the scent is intoxicating, in a field where the wind whips through your hair and across the surface of your skin, in a pumpkin patch where the smell of dirt and growth and harvest is all you can think about.  I want to forget about reality and connect with the earth so I too can be pulled along in this amazing transition.

I want my soul to run free.  To burst forth from my body and touch every single living being on the planet.  True connection, organic ties, transcendence.  I want to leave behind thought and tasks and to-do lists and become one with the ether- the stuff that we cannot see or measure or understand using logical thought but which still exists everywhere, for infinity.  I want to forget every single little thing that keeps me a neurotic mess and just be light and free and whole.

I want to sleep.  I want to read.  I want to run.  I want to paint.  I want to pay all my bills and balance all my duties and still have time left over for crazy, unbridled creativity.  And everyday, in small and large ways, I feel like I'm failing.  I get small moments- this morning's yoga class where I forgot about everything for one second and just breathed.  That instance where you realize that you knocked a whole lot of things off your to-do list within a relatively small period of time because you got lost in the frenzy of work.  The quiet pauses where you're so immersed in something you forget about everything else that isn't that.  I do have those.  But not often enough, not long enough, not sustainable enough to calm this unquenchable thirst I have.  I'm scratching the surface when I want to drown.

I know that these feelings aren't necessarily unusual- but the work I'm doing in my yoga training is making everything boil over.  I'm like a volcano that has lain dormant for centuries finally erupting and I don't know when it's all going to cool down.  I know that this is part of the process, and I do trust the process.  But damned if I don't feel like I'm on the verge of completely losing my marbles.  It's wonderful and infuriating all at the same time.  And, as is so often the case, it's exactly where I'm supposed to be.

And that's what I'm grateful for today.

For More Organized thoughts check out the Celebrate The Small Things Linky:

1.	Lexa Cain	2.	Fiction and Film
3.	Writing Off the Edge	4.	Kidbits
5.	TheCyborgMom	6.	Thoughts and Ideas from Deanie Humphrys-Dunne
7.	My Inner Geek	8.	Eclectic Alli
9.	Intentional Insights with S. Kelley Harrell	10.	Constantine
11.	My Miracle Life	12.	Writing, Reading, and the Pursuit of Dreams
13.	My Creatively Random Life	14.	Shells Tales and Sails
15.	Lara Lacombe	16.	TF Walsh
17.	Caring for my Veteran	18.	Life, Yoga and Other Adventures
19.	About myself, by myself	20.	Suzanne Furness
21.	Elizabeth Seckman	22.	Avalon
23.	Cherdo on the Flipside	24.	Writing By Marilyn
25.	My Baffling Brain	26.	Planet Kimberly
27.	Shah Wharton	28.	Mere Joyce
29.	Victorian Scribbles	30.	Dandilyonfluff
31.	Tanya Miranda	32.	God, Entertainment, & Annoying Things
33.	Ann - A Friend of Jesus 2013	34.	Special Teaching At Pempi's Palace
35.	Square Pegs	36.	The Beveled Edge
37.	Patricia's Place	38.	Desiree Yearning
39.	Yvonne Van Dalen	40.	Anne Higa
41.	My Antimatter Life	42.	Into the Imagination Vortex
43.	Peace, Love & Books	44.	Bouquet of Books
45.	Entertaining Interests	46.	Lightravellerkate

Book Review: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

So I have to come right out and say it: I LOVED this book.  I've met people who have claimed that it was their favorite book of all and knowing the tiny bit that I knew about it I didn't see how that could be.  I get it now.  So forgive me if this review is overly sentimental and sappy- I just can't help myself.

It's not just the characters that permanently lodge themselves in your heart, it's not just the moments that stick to your soul- it's the language.  The book is about the power of words and that power is demonstrated throughout every beautiful page.

In a nutshell, the story is about a young girl named Liesel Meminger growing up in Nazi Germany and it's as devastatingly sad as you might imagine it to be given that setting.  Without spoiling anything let me just assure you that this book will certainly rip your heart out.  I can't really say I had any idea of how bad it was for German civilians before reading this book.  After countless narratives and films about the holocaust I somehow imagined the entirety of Germany as a country of Nazis and neglected that conditions for civilians during that time, especially those sympathetic to Jews, was almost as bad in terms of the fear, hunger and lack of freedom.

But what really struck me about the story, and what makes it a favorite to so many, isn't the brutality or the horror of that time- it's the beauty that existed within the thick of it.  The breathtaking capacity of human compassion, the depth of love, and that indefinable human spirit that makes the narrator so attracted to these creatures he is charged with unburdening.

Death makes a fascinating narrator and as a writer reading this book I was completely and totally drawn in by the tools that Zusak uses to draft the story.  The translations: "A Translation of Rosa Hubermann's Announcement- 'What are you assholes looking at?'", the definitions: "A definition not found in the dictionary- Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children" and the short, stand-out moments he emphasizes: "A guided tour of suffering- To your left, perhaps your right, perhaps even straight ahead, you find a small black room.  In it sits a Jew.  He is scum.  He is starving.  He is afraid.  Please- try not to look away."  All these moments cut from the tapestry to pull you further in. 

As a narrative device it keeps you on your toes- you can't fall into any reading patterns here, the writing prevents it.  And if that's not enough there's always the occasional books within a book as with The Standover Man (with the simple drawings overlain on a white-washed page of Mein Kampf with the words bleeding through- which made me cry so freaking hard) and The Word Shaker (laid out as an ageless fable interspersed with cartoons).  At times it feels more like a collection of treasured objects than a book.

It's also interesting how the timeline is death's- not chronology's.  As he says at the beginning: "I would watch the places where we intersect, and marvel at what the girl saw and how she survived.  That is the best I can do- watch it fall into line with everything else I spectated during that time."  There are two standout moments in the beginning that don't occur until much later on in the story which serve the purpose of introducing the style more than anything else- letting you know from the beginning that this is Death's ship and you're just along for the ride.  There are glimpses of what's going on outside of Liesel's world, reminding you that this was both the holocaust and war at the same time as it was childhood for the main character. 

There were some jumps I never quite got over- letting us know that one of the greatest characters in the book was doomed to die about a hundred pages before he did, and then reminding us in fragile moments that that was coming.  That was rough, and it didn't make that death any easier to handle when it did finally come.  But for the most part it served the purpose- it drew me in, over and over again and kept me wanting to read.  The power of words: it's a theme.

In the end though, what will stick with me the most are the characters.  I collect characters like memories- they stick out in the timeline of my life and I remember them fondly as if they were witnesses to it.  And these characters are so devastatingly dear to me that I will house them in my heart forever.  Max with his hair like feathers and white-washed pages of Mein Kampf teaching our Liesel what words mean.  Rosa with her unforgettable terms of endearment and cardboard body, forever slumped over her husband's beloved accordion as she snores.  Rudy with his Jesse Owens dreams and talent for theft demonstrating what true friendship (and an endless yearning to be kissed) means.  Hans with his silver eyes, pallet of paints and priceless accordion proving that love is the strongest emotion of all.  And of course Liesel- the girl who's desire for knowledge was nursed and nurtured by this cast of characters, allowing her to blossom into an amazing story teller.  All of them- and all of those beautiful moments with them- will stay with me for as long as I have memory and I will love them.

This book was amazing.  One of my favorites.  And I can't be more grateful to have read it.

Celebrate the Small Things- March 27th

Thanks to our host Viklit and co-hosts Diana Wilder, L.G. Keltner, Cyborg Mom and CaffeMaggieato!

Hi!  So, as you may have noticed, I haven't participated in this blog hop for a LOOOOOOOONNNG time.  And oddly enough, I'm not going to be participating in it for a little while longer because next Friday and the following three after that I'll be posting letters for the A to Z Challenge instead of these posts.  But I will posting on at least a few of those Sundays to let you all know what I'm up to outside of trying to compose a 26 part story.  Like next Saturday, for example, I have a big race that I'm certainly going to want to tell you about (and to show you pictures of).

At any rate, all of that goes to lead to the first thing I'm celebrating this week:

WRITING  I'm writing again!  Fingers to keyboard, reading over Wikipedia articles, scraping and rewriting sentences- the whole nine!  It's been so incredibly long since I've written fiction that I'm honestly still a little shocked that I know how to do it.  I never thought I'd lost it altogether, but I did start to wonder about "if" rather than "when", to be perfectly honest.  It's just been so long since I'd had any desire whatsoever I'm totally out-of-mind excited to be doing it again.

Those of you who are also doing the challenge please come by and read- if I pull this thing off it'll be nothing short-of epic.  And I will be visiting as many of you as I can each day to see the awesome stuff you're writing!

RUNNING  As mentioned, I am still running and I had a rather large milestone last Saturday that I'm still geeking out about.

3rd place!  I've never placed in a race before!  How cool is that?!?

I'm trying not to lose the win in the context- like the fact that it snowed the day before so a whole lot of (presumably faster) people looked at their windows and went 'Hell no!" which left me to move up as I ran through 3 inches of snow.  But that's the cool part after all, isn't it?  I ran in the effing snow!  And I got 3rd place for doing it.  I don't care what the context, that's still awesome.  I'm thrilled.

I've got to get outside at least a couple of times before next Saturday because I have my first-ever 15K coming up which looks to be freaking awesome- they give us chocolate when we cross the finish line!  So like I said, I'll definitely be posting pictures of that.

LOVE  My very good friend from college who I get to see all of ONCE a year even though she doesn't live nearly far enough away to justify that rare of a visit (don't we all friends like that?) is having a baby in a couple of months.  Given that she will be swallowed by the chaos of newborn care-taking after that happens I talked her in to a quickie visit before her due date for some last minute baby-free talk and hang-out time.  I connected with her over Skype last night and I have to say that I just freaking LOVE her.

It helps that she is mother incarnate at the moment with that whole glow-thing going on and you can tell from the smile on her face that she's never been so thrilled about any endeavor she's ever undertaken before and it's just miraculous to see.  I'm so psyched to be seeing her and her wonderful hubby in a couple of weeks, I can't wait!

Happy Friday, everyone!  Looking forward to seeing you all during the A to Z challenge!

1.	Lexa Cain	2.	Fiction and Film
3.	Writing Off the Edge	4.	Kidbits
5.	TheCyborgMom	6.	Thoughts and Ideas from Deanie Humphrys-Dunne
7.	My Inner Geek	8.	Eclectic Alli
9.	Queendsheena	10.	Kim Graff
11.	Intentional Insights with S. Kelley Harrell	12.	Constantine
13.	Viklit	14.	My Miracle Life
15.	Writing, Reading, and the Pursuit of Dreams	16.	My Creatively Random Life
17.	Jeff Chapman's Writing	18.	Shells Tales and Sails
19.	Lara Lacombe	20.	TF Walsh
21.	Caring for my Veteran	22.	dcrelief
23.	Patricia's Place	24.	Life, Yoga and Other Adventures
25.	The Unwavering Part of Me	26.	About myself, by myself
27.	Suzanne Furness	28.	My Write Spot
29.	Elizabeth Seckman	30.	Avalon
31.	Cherdo on the Flipside	32.	Writing By Marilyn
33.	My Baffling Brain	34.	Planet Kimberly
35.	Shah Wharton	36.	Mere Joyce
37.	Just Get It Written	38.	Tyrean's Writing Spot
39.	kathleea.tumblr.com	40.	Black Coffee and Cigarettes
41.	Stephen tremp	42.	Linda Kay
43.	Victorian Scribbles	44.	Alexia Chamberlynn
45.	Dandilyonfluff	46.	Bames Live
47.	South Africa	48.	The World According To Rhonda
49.	Curious as a Cathy	50.	Tanya Miranda
51.	Teresa Morse	52.	Catherine Ensley
53.	God, Entertainment, & Annoying Things	54.	Ann - A Friend of Jesus 2013

A Writer Again, Suddenly

It’s a feeling I haven’t had in quite some time- that nagging at the edges of awareness, that faint voice in the back of your head that won’t go away, those intrusive thoughts that interrupt your train of consciousness and make you realize that you’ve missed the reality of the past few moments- the words spoken, the light in the room, the shifting body of the person next you.  It’s been happening to me more and more lately forcing me to realize that there’s action to be taken if I hope to avoid continually slipping out of the moment and missing all those things.  

A story.  A story must be written.

Like most stories, it’s been in my brain for a long while now.  First as an idea, just a flash of brilliance easily forgotten.  But then the words and images that get caught in the web it weaves in your thoughts.  Moments, phrases, descriptions.  All these getting caught in that sticky netting and becoming a barrier, a blockage to the regular train of thought.

I was at a concert on Saturday night, a really great one.  And I was angry to find that I’d missed some music because my mind got caught in that web again.  Then last night in the shower I washed my hair twice, not realizing until the second lather that I’d been composing sentences in my head rather than scrubbing.  That was it- I’d finally had enough.

So I sat down at my computer, and I wrote.  I opened up a Wikipedia page which invariably led to two others.  I looked through pictures on Google images.  I poured out paragraphs which, of course, were terrible and ill-formed on re-read.  But they were there.  Typed words in my word document.  An undeniable story that would be brought into existence by me.  Before I knew it it was one o’clock in the morning.  I haven’t gotten caught up in writing like that since the last NaNoWriMo I participated in- over a year and a half ago.

When I really look at it, I realize that I barely did any writing at all in almost the entirety of last year.  Sure, I celebrated some accomplishments on Friday blog hops.  I did 26 entries in April on the history of Tang Soo Do.  I wrote about my running, a lot.

In actuality I realize that running has sort-of replaced writing in my life.  Partially because it was new to me, I had a whole lot of firsts last year and I’m still having them (I won my first medal in a 5K this past Saturday- Third Place in my age bracket).  And partially because it’s so much more definable.  When you run, there’s undeniable proof that you’ve run.  A GPS map on the running app showing you your distance.  A runner’s bib verifying your participation in a race.  A medal that I proudly display on my wall.  It’s real, measurable, concrete.  Unlike writing which still seems so ethereal sometimes- words on the paper that my inner critic dismisses so easily, even after all these years.

But fiction- a story I composed, characters I created.  Details and settings and emotions and tiny little elements of memory that breathe life into the sentences- I haven’t done that in so long I honestly can’t remember.  Until last night.

So I did something crazy.  I went and signed up for the April A to Z challenge.  Sure, I’m number five thousand and whatever, at the bottom of the list.  And sure, I’ve now put an awful lot of pressure on myself to get 26 entries out of this story, not to mention a coherent narrative that connects each snippet of scene and dialogue.  And yeah, it could all blow up in my face so easily.  But I’m writing again.  And I’m pretty damned thrilled about it.

I know that I haven’t existed in the blogosphere for so long that people who used to frequent this site have all but forgotten about me.  And I know I’ll have to re-earn every follower by reading and commenting and giving before I can reasonably expect anyone to come back here.  And I know that half the point of the April challenge, if not the majority of the point, is visiting and commenting rather than writing yourself.   But I want to do both.  I NEED to do both.  It’s been far too long since I’ve done this, any of this.

So I know I missed the big theme reveal.  And I know that probably only two or three people are gonna read this anyway.  But I’m saying it more to myself than anyone who may happen to read these words.  I'm declaring it, so I'll have to do it.

I’m writing a story.  In 26 parts.  For the April A to Z Challenge, my contribution:

Scenes From An American Diner

Stay tuned…

Better late than never...

Insecure Writer's Support Group- March

Hello all!  It's the first Wednesday of the month and you know what that means!  Time to release our insecurities onto the world.

Thanks as always to the wonderful Ninja Captain Alex and to his fantastic co-hosts this month: Tina Downey, Elsie, Elizabeth Seckman, and Julie Flanders!  You are all wonderful, amazing, fantastic folks and I am so very lucky to be a part of this group.  (If you haven't already, make sure you stop by and thank them!)

Well, I am quite literally drowning in insecurities this month and for very good reason: I haven't been writing.

Many smart, insightful and aware folks have talked about the brain as a muscle that one needs to exercise on a regular basis in order for it to work well.  And since writing is such a particular skill, that muscle has to be well practiced at doing that particular thing in order for one to be a good writer.  Well, my writer's brain has all but atrophied.

Why?  Well, there's a bunch of reasons- some logical, some emotional, all not valid in the end.  Yes, I started a new job which has drastically altered my schedule, changed how my week runs and required me to learn how to do a bunch of things I've never done before (like track and manage money- yuck!).  And yes, that new job requires me to have my computer (which I would normally leave at home to, you know, write on) at work.  (This is probably the #1 issue which needs to be remedied as soon as possible by my purchase of a new home computer.)  And yes, I have been busting my butt in other activities other than writing (I've become a bit of a gym rat- more on that on Friday).

But at the end of the day the number one reason for me not writing is simply the fact that I haven't been writing.  I think about a story I want to write and I start questioning it, over-analyzing it, coming up with reasons why it won't work.  I say that I'm going to just sit down and do it and magically there are a billion things getting in the way.  I start to compose the first sentence in my head and then dismiss it because it simply sucks.  We all know this process- we've all done it.  And most of us, I believe, know the solution to it: just write.

I've been in this game more than long enough to know exactly what I need to do to fix my problem.  I just need to freakin' write already.  And yeah, it may be a pain in the ass to cart my computer from work to home and back again in order to do that- but I can't keep, you know, NOT writing.  That's just not gonna fly.

So this is me saying to you what I need to hear right now: Just write.  That's all.  No matter how it turns out, regardless of what words come out- JUST WRITE.  So if you're like me, don't plan or plot or even think- just do it.  If you're already writing, just keep writing.  And if you're writing so much that you've got words bleeding out of your ears then you, my friend, are my hero.  Just write.  That's all.

So many insecure writers, so little time...

Insecure Writer's Support Group- December Edition

As always, a big, GIANT THANK YOU to the wonderful creator of this fantastic share: Mr. Alex J Cavanaugh!  And an equally energetic thanks to this months' co-hosts Julie Flanders, Heather Gardner, Kim Van Sickler, and Elsie is Writing.   Make sure you stop by and say hi to all our wonderful hosts!
Well, it's the last month of the year and I've been thinking a lot about my goals for 2014.  They're pretty lofty.  I want to (in no particular order): edit my NaNo novel- like really, seriously edit.  Like, maybe someday I'll actually ask someone to read the thing kind-of edit.  I know you veteran writers may be a little appalled to learn that I've never done that before.  And you'll also, undoubtedly, encourage me to just get on wih it already because geez how can you call yourself a writer when you've never even edited one of your novels?  Don't you know that's what writing is?!?  Or maybe that's the voice in my own head.  Either way, it needs to happen.

On non-writing related fronts I also plan to compete in my first tournament in January (nerves, much?) and I will continue to manage the tournament team which means booking hotels, arrainging travel plans, communicating with tournament hosts, registering competitors and all the rest.  And, as if all that weren't enough, I've got my 3rd Dan black belt test to train for!  *scared face*

Not to mention that I believe there is a pretty high probability that I'm going to get this job I want so much (more on that when I get the call) and new and exciting also means challenging and very, very time consuming.  My schedule would flip-flop to a certain extent and it would test the limits of my time managment skills in the beginning as I adapt and try to form a new routine.

All-in-all, there's a lot on my plate.  It's all good, exciting, wonderful stuff but it's also all very challenging.  And of course, I have to wonder, will I get it all done?  Will I be able to manage my day and fit in everything?  How on earth am I going to meet all these goals?

I have a huge capacity for loafing and when left to my own devices can while away the hours without accomplishing anything of note.  To not fall into that trap, and even more to set small, realistic, attainable goals for myself everyday and actually accomplish them everyday is a BIG challenge.

But I'd like to believe that I am up for such a challenge.  I'd like to believe that my committment to all of these things is strong enough that I will make the time, rise above and find my new stride. 

I look to some of my friends in bloggerdom for inspiration: those of you juggling full time jobs and children and book tours and marketing and blog hops and volunteer activites at animal shelters or food pantries and drafting new stories and participating in things like this to support and promote other authors.  You guys absoltuely astound me.  And I would love to be able to astound myself.  Here's hoping.

Thanks again to all the wonderful co-hosts and blogges out there who participate in the fantastic hop around the world of writerly support.  Now hop along and spread the love! 

I won!

Well, it's official- yesterday I crossed the 50k finish line and secured another all-important victory in my epic, endless battle with my inner self critic.  Plus I got lots of awesome winner goodies including this kick- ass badge!  Plus I get the bragging rights and the pride and the confidence that comes from having completed NaNo.  It's a big deal.

But perhaps the even bigger deal is that fact that I not only managed to hit 50k but I actually managed to FINISH my story.  As in "The End".  As in the thing that's eluded for almost every danged year that I've participated in this crazy challenge (which, for the record, is five!!)  And that, my friends, is the reason that this particular victory stands apart from the other four.

It's not that I've never reached the end before- I did once.  But I did it by skipping scenes, fast forwarding, inserting notes like "Write fight scene here" and generally half-assing my way to the words "The End".  So while it was a technical finish, it felt like a hollow win.  (Though it did feel at least slightly better than the three other unfinished manuscripts of varying lengths sitting on my hard drive collecting virtual dust.)

But now I have a real finish.  An honest to god beginning-to-end finish.  A real story.  Yes, I skipped a couple of scenes in the very beginning because I realized they required a ton more research and I didn't have time to do that and hit my daily word count BUT the bulk of the story is there.  I struggled through the fight scenes even though I had no idea what to write.  I figured out the transitions even though I agonized over them.  I did the hard work and I reached the conclusion.  And it feels REALLY GOOD.

That being said, there's something about this whole experience which has been very different for me and which makes it stand apart from all the others.  The entire time I've been writing this story- literally, the entire time- I was thinking about editing.  Not just editing- publishing.  Having other people actually read it.

That's NEVER happened before.  Most of the time I would think to myself "Well, don't worry about it too much- no one's ever going to read it."  This time I thought "Just keep going- you'll fix it later."

Now in some ways this was a terrible change as it kept me acutely aware of how much of what I was writing would be scrapped, changed or drastically altered upon revision.  Drafting requires you NOT to think like that so shutting that part of my brain off was a huge challenge for me this month.

But in other ways it is a very exciting development since I have never, EVER edited one of my NaNo novels before.  (Not surprising given how rare it is for me to even finish one!)  And the more I read from published authors the more it seems that the real art (read: work) of writing lies in editing.  So being gung-ho to actually try it is exciting.

I want to edit this thing.  I want to find the words that work.  I want to flesh out the characters, the settings, the descriptions.  I want to make the passages pop and get that writing to flow.  I want to do the real work.  I've never felt like that before.  Most of the time I do a happy dance, post my winner's badge and then promptly forget all about the novel.  I don't want to do that again.

That being said, everyone says to take a break before editing your first draft.  They say your mind needs some space from the story in order to come back with an objective view.  They say you're too close to it right after typing "the end".  So heading directly into editing is not the way to go.

But then I realize: I've got four other novels sitting on my hard drive that desperately need editing.  Four other novels that I've had a ton of time and space away from.  Four other novels to practice on.  So I'm going to start with one of them.

Specifically, I'm going back to my 2009 NaNo project: Factin's Story.  It's a good ole fashioned fantasy complete with magical beings, corrupt empires and lots of Inns where mysterious characters meet up, get drunk and reveal important plot points.  It stands out in my mind as one of the most fun projects and I feel like it has potential if edited.  Plus, four years guarantees a fresh set of eyes to look it over with.

Because at the end of the day, 50k is wonderful- but it's not everything.  Especially if I do it year after year with no plans for what it will all lead to.  Because as great as NaNo is, I know that I can do it by this point.  While I stressed at some points, I never freaked out that I wouldn't make it.  But editing?  Well that's a whole new frontier.  And I'm excited to give it a try.

So for those of you typing away during these final hours of NaNo: Keep Going!  No matter what happens you deserve all the kudos in the world for attempting this crazy thing.  And for those of you who finished long before I did: Yay!  We're in the winner's circle!  And for those of you who skipped NaNo or don't believe in it or who are just reading this because you're nice: thanks for reading.  Perhaps one day I'll have something more substantial for you to read.  But for right now, I'm doing my happy dance.

Celebrate The Small Things- Halfway Through November!

It's that time again!  Hosted by our very own Viklit, this meme is all about celebrating the little things in life that keep you going.  Click on the link to learn more/sign up/spread the love!

Halfway  I am tantalizingly close to 25k and (god willing) will have passed that by a decent amount by the end of the day.  What's more is that I’m finally starting to get those moments of flow.  You know the ones- where the words seem desperate to get out of you and your fingers can scarcely keep up.  You find yourself getting out huge word counts in relatively small periods of time.  Your story finally seems as if it's moving forward.

Thus far in this month, those moments have largely eluded me and I think I've discovered yet another obvious but not immediately realized pattern of my writing: it takes a while to get going.  Past NaNo novels have been similar to this one in that the beginning is like wading through molasses: slow, incredibly difficult, strength-sapping to a shocking degree and very, very frustrating.  Most of the action takes place within my MC's own thought process (so needless to say there's not a whole lot of action) and the overall plot exists solely as an arc in my head rather than events on the page.

Then, somewhere around this time (I'm guessing it's a pattern) things finally start to pick up.  Meeting my daily word count isn't quite as excruciating of a process.  Stuff starts happening- big stuff- and the plot finally starts to move forward and pick up speed as it goes.

That's how it seems to work for me, at least.  What about you guys?  Noticed any patterns?  Is your writing flowing or are you still pulling teeth?  Let me know in your comments.

Look What I Got! 

I think my face says it all but because I'm absurdly verbose I'm gonna say some more: Yippee!!  I've never had an autographed copy of a book before!  EVER!  Seriously- this is a big deal in the world of Bev. 

Needless to say, Lara is astoundingly awesome for signing it for me and I can't wait to read it and add a stellar review to Amazon and Goodreads for her.  (I assume it will be stellar because there's no way this book isn't gonna rock!)

Reminder: if you have a copy (either ebook or paperback) of Lara's book you can tweet or facebook her a picture of yourself with it (see above for example) to enter for a chance to win a $25 gift card from Amazon or B&N.  I have a bunch of ideas in mind for how I want to stage these... we'll see how it goes.

And finally, Awesome Authors  On Tuesday I featured Crystal Collier whose new release Moonless came out on Wednesday.  I'm sure many of you know Crystal because she's a) extremely supportive of other writers, b) very active in the blogging community on the whole and c) loves cheese more than anyone you've ever met.  If you're not following her blog tour go here to see the whole line up.  There's a ton of cool stuff going on including giveways and other awesomeness.

Also, I have to make a plug for the Realms Faire because today is the last day.  Head on over to Mary Pax's place to see all the events! 

And now, as always, I invite you to hop along and spread the love!

Insecure Writer's Support Group for November

It's the first Wednesday of the month which means it's time for another awesome installment of the Insecure Writer's Support Group!  Alex's awesome co-hosts this month are  CD Coffelt, Tina Downey, Isis Rushdan, and Michelle Wallace.  Make sure you stop by to thank all of them for hosting!

Well, it’s November.  So of course all of my insecurities are focused on NaNoWriMo.  Let me know if these thoughts are familiar to you all:

“Oh No!  Two hours and I’ve only written 724 words?!?  What is going on?”

“How the heck am I supposed to get to “The End” when I’m agonizing over every word?”

“10,627 words?!?  How on earth did (insert writing buddy’s name here) get so far ahead of me?  I’ll never have that big of a lead!”

“This is horrible!  Wasn’t the whole point of doing this whole thing to have fun, anyway?  What was I thinking?”

Have any of you felt this way?  I most certainly have.  In fact, this has been my thought process for the first few days of the challenge.

And I was wondering why, at first.  Because I’ve done this before- four years in a row, actually.  I’ve miraculously managed to cross 50k and beyond in every NaNo novel I’ve attempted.  (I haven’t reached “The End” very often, but I’ve crossed the 50k line.) 

And I remember those miracle days- the ones where your thoughts are so desperate to get out of your head that your fingers can scarcely move fast enough and you end up pounding out several thousand words within a relatively short period of time.  I’ve had those- I know what they felt like. 

So how, I wondered, did I end up here in this purgatory where I’m second-guessing and judging and seriously thinking of scrapping the whole damned thing on a daily basis?

And then I flipped back through the pages of my writing journal and found some entries I had written at the beginning of NaNo 2010.  And guess what?  It was exactly the same.  The same thoughts, the same insecurities, the same fears, the same frustrations- it was exactly the same process.  Agonizing, falling behind, getting stuck for thousands of words in pointless scenes and interactions that fail to move the plot forward- all of it.  I’ve done it all before.

And yet, every single time, I managed to hit word count before the end of the month.  I’ve managed to have those magic moments where everything just flowed and my fingers barely kept up with the words pouring out.  I’ve managed to win NaNoWriMo.

So maybe this isn’t a crisis.  Maybe I’m doing what I do every year.  Agonizing, fighting through, finding the flow, losing it again, keeping on with the sheer stubborn will to finish and reaching 50k.  Maybe this is just my pattern.

They say that hindsight is 20/20, but that’s not always the case.  I think my memories of past NaNos are more like highlight reels- the victories, the little triumphs, the magic.  And while that makes it somewhat problematic when I have hard days, it also gives me the confidence to keep moving forward- assured that I will have everything I’ve had in the past, including the win.

So if you’re like me, have faith.  There’s way more than 50,000 words in you, you just have to keep writing to give them a way out.  And if you’re not like me and your time for struggle comes later in the month, I offer you the same advice: just keep writing.  You’ll get there if you just tell your brain to shut up and write.

Be sure to visit the other bloggers on the list to spread the love and help beat those insecurities down!