Novel Update

Editing has been going well lately. I’m nearly finished my first round of edits! I’d like to do at least three.

The amount of notes I’ve left myself over the last couple of weeks regarding work, school and…whatever else continues to grow, but I’m still at a point where I can manage. At least the work I’m doing is something that I enjoy. As my Dad said, “If you enjoy it, it isn’t really work.” Hopefully soon I can turn the things I enjoy into something profitable. Gotta pay off those student loans at some point.

I’ve got a couple of things that I’d like to get done today…a few assignments that I need to get started on, some cleaning. I seem to clean up around here every weekend. This place gets messy pretty fast. Students are always too busy for “tedious” things like cleaning…apparently. I’m a bit squeamish so I try to clean up after myself. Other peoples messes are not my problem…even if they bug me. As long as my space is clean I have somewhere I can escape to when the kitchen looks like thirty people live in our apartment. I swear…something…something in that sink smells.

Whenever I write for characters around my age I start laughing because sometimes my own thoughts bleed into the narration. I have characters who are in their early 20s, living with roommates and trying to cope with the many responsibilities of adulthood. So when I write about them stepping on weird squishy rotting fruit in the kitchen…it’s because this stuff actually happens on a day-to-day basis. I usually end up laughing my head off when I write those kind of scenarios. I usually try not to base characters off of people I know, however you gotta draw inspiration from somewhere. Even if it is your…dirty kitchen that smells like rotting milk. I can’t figure out where that smell is coming from!? If people would just wash their dishes we wouldn’t have this problem. Like, bruh there is a dishwasher! How do you have three weeks worth of dishes in the sink?

I hope my roommates never find this blog post. They’re great guys honestly, but I just…the smell is so bad! I don’t know how to describe it exactly…rotting milk with like a mixture of…I don’t know…moldy…fruit? Like when the fruit gets all fluffy and stuff. That kinda moldy.

It’s sad…when you live at home your parents tell you when stuff needs to be thrown out. When you live alone you kind of just open your fridge and go, “Hey, I forgot I made stir fry…when did I make this again? Oh…oh God…oh that’s…nope…nope uh…Lord help me….trash…sink…I think it’s moving!”

Anyway, I’d better go. Places to go. Things to do.

Enjoy your weekend.

–R.

Advertisements

Insanity by Lucas King

Occasionally I play this song when doing sketches of a character of mine, whom you’ll meet someday soon. I haven’t had the chance to write his story recently. Usually I write it when I’m having trouble sleeping. I promise you he isn’t crazy…at least…not yet.

Ha…I’m just teasing. I’m sure he doesn’t mind that I haven’t finished his story yet. It’s getting sad. I do think about him when I hear songs like this one. I feel as if I’ve doomed the boy…and he isn’t even real. Well, he’s real enough to me. I created him.

It’s a strange thing, being an author. You create these people…and with one swift movement their lives are altered in ways that they can’t even imagine. They have no control over what is going to happen next…and sometimes it feels as though the author has lost control as well. Sometimes the story’s end up writing themselves.

Part of me hopes that this young mans story won’t be tragic. I wonder if I’m avoiding it, because I know what is to come. He has some notion of what will happen next, that’s for sure. Still…it’s hard to say how it will end.

–R.

Glass

What do we do, when the ones we care about are broken?

Do we punish the ones who have hurt them? Make them pay for their crimes. Show them what broken really looks like.

Do we try to fix them or do we leave them shattered like broken glass. Millions of a whole sparkling in the dirt.

It is hard to love a broken thing. When things break we replace them…it’s easier than taking the time to mend them. Easier to forget about what is broken. Who is broken. No one wants to be reminded of the things that are broken…the people they have broken.

I saw her broken. She laid there, like glass. Silent…though silence was never something she longed for. I couldn’t touch her. She was sharp. Her shards laid at my feet. I didn’t break her, but I cannot fix her. I don’t know how. I want to. I want what once was. This bond between us, shatter by those who hurt her. Beat her down into the dirt. Shoved their words into her like daggers. Tore apart what was left of her. Somehow she rose. A million pieces. She rose up, still shattered and she glistened in the sun. I couldn’t fix her. I don’t know if she even wanted to be fixed. Perhaps she likes being broken? Perhaps the glass makes her enemies tremble with fear. She is strong, even though she is shattered. Her strength is the greatest sword ever built.


For my dearest and oldest friend.

Stay strong.

–R.

“Play is just as important as reading a good book.”

As someone who works with children, it irritates me when I hear adults say things like, “A child couldn’t understand this.” Especially when it comes to books. I have always been an avid reader. I read comedies, tragedies, histories, whatever there was to be read I would read it. Happy or sad, it didn’t matter as long as it was well written. The words resonated me, and even if there were some words that I didn’t fully understand, the feelings stayed with me. Children are very empathetic. They are capable of understanding emotions, and are able to place themselves into other people’s positions quite easily.

I think the reason for this is because children play pretend. When we play pretend we enter into a life that is not our own. It’s a lot like reading a book, honestly. Only adults think that books are more sophisticated and, grown up. I’ve always felt it was the same thing. Writing, and playing. What do actors do? They play at being someone else. Writers imagine many lives, and feel many emotions, think many thoughts. Is this not what children do when they play pretend?

I have played games with my five-year old niece. In one of her games the king died. I was surprised while watching this little girl play as the queen, who was saddened by her husbands passing. The queen was too upset to leave her bed. She was lonely. If a five year old, can understand this without having any idea of what death really means, then why do adults think children are incapable of understand the notion of death?

My niece knows that when someone dies we don’t see them anymore. This is all she knows, and yet, this little girl can take the scenario of not seeing a person you love anymore, and associate it with loneliness. How does one feel when they are lonely? Sad? Depressed?

Even in some of my classrooms I have read aloud to my students and listened to them rant about how rude the characters are in the story. I’ve had children say, “They need a spank on the butt!” My niece will say it as well, when I read her Cat in the Hat.

Children are not given enough credit. They are observant and their world is complex, much like our own. A child’s world is much like a puzzle. They slowly put the pieces together as they grow. The figure out where things belong over time. They are not incompetent. Children are extremely capable of grasping tough subjects such as war, and death, and loneliness. Do not underestimate a child’s abilities. Play is just as important as reading a good book.

–R.

Sticky Notes

Ten. Ten sticky notes piled on top of each other, looking like a game of Tetris. Each one a reminder.

Read this. Password for this. Pick up this.

The list goes on. A boring list that no one really cares for, especially not a person who procrastinates. So, why does the procrastinator strategically place these different coloured notes along the wall? Well, they need to know how long they can put off their work for. To procrastinate successfully, one must of course induce a sense of anxiety. They must watch as time shrinks away. Meaningless numbers seem to have meaning when they’re written out on paper. Deadlines and due dates and appointments. Just numbers. Who could have guessed that a small, yellow square could become so significant. Of course, once the task is complete there will be no reason to keep the note on the wall. No, it’ll be crumpled up and tossed into the trash, along with other useless things. Like old symbols on an ancient ruin, it will have lost its meaning. Then there will be another to take its place, and it will linger on the wall until it too is tossed away. Insignificant numbers, on insignificant pieces of paper.

Thinking and Moving

I’m slowly getting settled in to my new apartment. My room is slightly larger than the one I had at the old place…however there are pesky little bugs everywhere. It’s disgusting really. We were promised that this place would be cleaned out properly over the summer, however that obviously never happened. The first two days were spent cleaning. I had to re-wash all of my clothing, towels and such that had been kept here over the summer. Everything is coming together though. I’m sure by the end of the week it’ll feel a little more like home.

As for my editing progress, I haven’t had a chance to do anything this week. However, I have two days a week off this semester, so I’ll be dedicating those days to working on my personal projects, at least until I have assignments and such to do. Then of course I’ll need to use that time for other things.

I still have a lot of things that I need to get done today. Seems I’ve lost my water filter…and a few other dishes which is bizarre. I know that they were packed away together but I have yet to find them. Honestly, I don’t think I can afford to buy a new one. They’re between $15-$30, but I still need to purchase my books for school, and pay my bills. I suppose in the long run having the filter is better than spending money on large water bottles an jugs every week.

I’ve considered getting a part-time job, but I just finished working two jobs and on top of that it’s my final year. I need to focus on my grades and I have to begin applying for graduate school. There’s a lot that I need to think about right now, which if I could I’d put it all off and forget the fact that I have responsibilities at all. Sadly, I’m one of those people who spend hours upon hours thinking about life, planning my next move, daydreaming about when and where. I’m always thinking about something. Unless I’m really engaged in a project or I’m captivated by a good book…I’m thinking about nothing and everything.

Well, I still have to eat my breakfast so I’d better get started on that. I’m pretty tired out right now. I’m surprised that I crawled out of bed at 8 o’clock this morning. Yesterday I was in bed until 11…which never happens. I’m an early riser. Id like to spent a few hours relaxing before I get rolling…I really don’t feel like doing much at all today. I’ll try to keep my spirits high. Try not to stress myself out over money like I did all summer.