The End: Novel Update

November 29th, 2013 I began writing this novel. At the time I had been taking a break from writing, as I’d been going through serious writers block. Then I came up with an entirely new story, that was begging to be written. Today, November 29th, 2016 I completed this novel…and after working on it for the last three years I don’t know what to do with myself.

I mean, it is broken up into three books, so I can begin working on part two but…whoa. Three years of my life. I wonder how much my writing style has changed between the first and last paragraphs. I wrote two-hundred and forty pages. Well then. That’s neat.

I don’t know how to react right now. I randomly started tearing up, and now I feel like running around and shouting to the heavens, “I did it! I finished!”

To think I’d had serious writers block before starting this novel. It was at the beginning of the 9th grade, and I’d written six books in a series. I was trying to edit them all…and I’d realized that there were too many loose ends and a lot of things that needed work. While I was editing them, I kept trying to start other novels and I’d write a couple of chapters and then give up. It was horrible. Then I fell in love with the idea of this novel, simply because of an image from a dream I had. The novel haunted me. I tried to push it out of my head but it needed to be written. Now it is finally finished…whoa. This is so weird.

I have such mixed feelings right now. I managed to reach my goal. I just thought it would be cool to finish on the same day that I’d started, I guess determination is really…important. Now I feel like I can accomplish anything. I’m going to begin editing this as soon as all of my essays are done. This is so awesome.

 

Whoa…I feel like I’m all over the place right now. I just read a bit of the first page and I was like “Wow…my writing has gotten a lot better. Thank you creative writing courses.” This is just too much for me to take in right now.

Especially since I was having such a hard time earlier this year and over the summer. I’d felt as though I’d barely had any time to write this year but I still managed to reach my goal.

For those of you still working away at your novels, keep going. Even if it takes you three or four years to complete a work, the feeling when you’ve finished…I can’t explain it but it is wonderful. I haven’t felt like this since the day I finished writing my first book.

This is just awesome. Okay…goodbye for now.

–R.

Listed on the Syllabus

Essays, reports, labs, presentations…all of them piling up right before the final exams (or in some cases midterms…if you’re lucky). All of these things popping up outta no where!

“They’re listed right here on the syllabus.”

“Where?”

“Page two. Here, where it says, ‘November such-and-such, Assignment Due.'”

“Aw…yah…I see it now. Yah…it’s there. It didn’t just magically appear outta thin air. But I didn’t get the outline for the assignment till last week. I barely had any time.”

“You had time to go and grab poutine.”

“Yah but–”

“And you had time to see Doctor Strange.”

“Yah but–”

“And you had time to order a pizza and play video games until midnight.”

“Yah but I–”

“You have no excuse. You just procrastinated. You put it off too long. And now, you’re stressed out.”

“Wish we could turn back tiiiiiiime…to the good old daaaaays…”

“Shut up! No singing! Sit you butt down and do your work!”

“But I’m hungry.”

“Yah…me too. Let’s go get food.”

“But…I have to do my assignment.”

“Eh…you’ve got till Thursday. There’s plenty of time!”

“It’s Tuesday….”

“Just…pull an all-nighter.”

“Last time I did that…I didn’t do so well on my assignment.”

“Do you sit around and complain all day? Jeez, I’m leaving.”

“Okay bye….”


The line, “Wish we could turn back time to the good old days,” is from Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots.

Anyway, this dialogue just sort of happened all on its own. Hope it made you chuckle a little. I have a habit of inserting song lyrics into actual conversations I have with my siblings…and myself. Since this dialogue is me talking to myself. Happens a lot…yet, why question my sanity?

The Fall

the-fall

The Fall, O. Ryder. Sept 26th, 2016.

The Fall

By O. Ryder

I realized that I didn’t own a hairdryer when my sister’s wet towel brushed against my skin last night. It was cold. It soothed the pain in my bear arms but I moved it away, onto her lap. Whenever someone wore a towel on their head I imagined the Virgin Mary.

“It’s cold.”

She looked at me, big eyes glaring. “I just washed my hair.” Always glaring.

In that moment I felt stupid. Glaring eyes often made me feel as though I’d done something stupid.

Always glaring. Always stupid.

I felt uneasy as she pressed her back into my pillow. The olive green towel reminded me of my sweater: how it hung on her and how her gold strands clung to it as she rested against me.

I wasn’t attracted to blondes, I told myself. She was pretty but plain. I liked dark hair. I liked dark hair and warm eyes. No glaring. Never glaring.

My sister elbowed me. Woke me from my trance. Told me Dad wanted to talk.

My eyes left the green and my hands found the phone. I wondered why I had been in such a daze. Wet hair was soft, I thought. I haven’t worn that sweater in a long time.

I talked. He talked. He hung up.

Whenever we spoke lately he felt as though he was keeping me away from something. I just had trouble finding things to talk about. I wanted to hear warmth in his voice.

Everything died in the Fall. The plants, the insects, Granddad. Even some of the Angels died in the Fall.

Love blossomed in the Fall, but made me feel dead.

I was not fond of the weather. It was deceiving. Deceiving Canadian Fall.

The weather was as schizophrenic as our identity. Some said they felt it was bipolar…perhaps…perhaps.

Always glaring. Always falling. Always stupid. Always dead.

I wondered how anyone could rest their head in such a messy room. It smelt of burnt popcorn, wet towels and cologne.

And those golden strands had smelt like summer.

She was the Summer. I the Fall.

For once I had fallen, she had fled. As the warmth does when death comes.

She was Life. I Death.

Despite wishing, I represented the end.

“I love this sweater.” she said.

I said nothing.

She wrapped her fingers in mine. It felt uncomfortable.

“Wanna cuddle?”

I remembered the wet green towel. My sister was asking for the phone back. I placed it in her hand. I watched the television. You could get lost in the television. No thoughts. Always glaring. Always stupid. Always wishing.

My Favourite Insomniac

I’m currently feeling exhausted…which makes me want to write about my favourite insomniac, who has so far received 30 pages of sleepless nights, pizza and Lacrimosa on repeat. However this is a rewrite/expansion of a short story I began back in high school. Actually I entered it into a local competition. Obviously I didn’t win, or else I would have shared that story here on my blog. I hadn’t mastered the short story then to be honest. I’ve managed to get the hang of it though, thanks to years and years of practice.

Maybe I’ll sleep. Maybe I won’t. I mean…I just got back to my place, but I’ve been tired since yesterday. It is weird how every time I feel sleepy I feel like working on this novel. Its sort of something I’ve been writing on the side, so I don’t necessarily know when it will be complete, but I actually really like the characters. Ha…I end up loving all my characters, even the jerks. Eh…I think I will take a nap. I don’t have anything else to do right now. Not going out anywhere.

— R.

“I don’t want to sleep on my own anymore.”

She woke up and found that she was alone. With sleep in her eyes she crawled out of bed, and made her way towards the dark hallway. Her heart was already racing from that dream, now the hallway was so dark that she could barely see a thing.

Her lips quivered, but she stepped out into the hall. She knew where to go. She twisted the knob and whipped open the door–as she would if it were morning–then made her way towards the bed.

“Ryder, I don’t want to sleep by myself anymore,” she whimpered.

Ryder’s eyes shot open. “Wha?”

The little curly-haired girl pouted.

“Want me to come stay with you?” Ryder asked hoarsely, sitting up.

“Yah….”

So, Ryder got up out of bed and followed her through the dark hallway, and into the room with lots of night lights. Ryder gave the little girl a sleepy grin as she sprawled across the bed, not thinking to leave room for anyone else.

“Well, this is the same little girl who kicked me in the head while she was asleep,” Ryder laughed.

The little girl rolled over, closing her eyes, lettings Ryder lay down.

Ryder tucked the two of them in and the little girl latched onto the blanket, curling into a ball. Ryder looked at the time and sighed. At least work wasn’t until the following evening.

“Ooph!”

Ryder glanced at the little girl and frowned as she threw her legs up, and twisted her body around like a wiggling worm.

“Oh, whatever.”

The little girl’s legs flew up into the air as she tossed and slammed into Ryder’s back. There they stayed as she slept peacefully, her knee in Ryder’s side.

With a gentle sigh Ryder took the giant, fluffy giraffe and used it as a pillow.

“Oh look…aw…hmm…sunlight.”

 


Goodnight/morning.

–From R and Princess Curly-top.

Don’t worry, my back should be fine in time for any potential piggy-back rides.

How Could the Author Be So Cruel…and So Brilliant?

So, I spent my entire week reading books. Finally finished one series, working on another. Seems very productive to me. Man, that last book made me get choked up and everything. That final scene: how could the author have been so cruel…and so brilliant? I just kept praying that when I turned the page, she’d still be standing on the edge of the balcony…and then– Ha, ha. Sorry, no spoilers here. Seriously though, I almost started to cry. Although that leg cramp that woke me up at 5am might have contributed to that.

As for writing, I’ve gotten lots done. I finally finished the script I’ve been working on, my novel is going well, and as for all my other projects they’re coming together smoothly.

My laptop is dying, and I work in a few hours so I’d better go.

Anyone have a book (or books) that they would like to recommend to me? Graphic novels, manga/comic books are welcome. Nothing too depressing though. If it is listed on Goodreads, please feel free to send me a link!

Keep enjoying the sunshine.

–R.

 

…and then I threatened to kill him off

The other day I finished up the chapter I was working on, and while I was writing it I honestly started to cry. As the saying goes, “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader,” (Robert Frost) so I decided that I would come back to what I wrote and read it to see if it would have the same impact.

When I was writing this chapter my eyes watered, I got a little choked up, and I felt really sad. When I read the chapter I got teary eyed again, then I got really angry at one of my characters…and then I threatened to kill him off. Luckily for him, he redeemed himself at the end of that chapter by actually giving a damn about another human being. He just picked the wrong time to act like a little snot.

I don’t think I’ve ever been mad at a character before…so I hope when other people read this that they wont want to kill this poor guy. Ha…he’s not poor. Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s honestly a jerk the majority of the time. Nobody wants him around except his girlfriend. How does he even have a girlfriend in the first place!?

Okay…okay relax. Just breathe. It’s just a story…it isn’t real life.

Ha, ha…this has been a weird post.

Is anyone else upset (if you’re in Canada because I don’t know about elsewhere) that the weather suddenly got very cold today? It was nice all week. I thought it was summer…I just finished putting all of my sweaters away.

 

Telling Lies – Sick Puppies

Just finished up part of my study session and thought I’d do some work on one of my novels. So I was going through one of my playlists while gathering my things together, and this song came on. I realized that this song fits several characters I’ve had over the years. Perhaps when I publish I’ll post the playlists I’ve made over the years for my characters. I like to imagine what they might listen to, and this one fits with a good chunk of them.

 

A Comfortable Chill

I’m slightly cold…but I’m comfortable. It’s a comfortable chill.

My foot is falling asleep and my thoughts are swimming about like trout in a lake. My pillow tries to warm my body but because my shirt is so thin, the cold seeps through my back and into my skin. My breaths are cold too when they enter me but warm when I release them…and my lips are soft but dry. The spits cold too.

The cold is slithering within me…and I want it to stop moving about so I can feel warmth but I know the warmth will make my eyes heavy, and I’ll pray to sleep.

 

I’m Ready to Wake Up Now

“It would be great to wake up in the perfect life…to wake, and be cherished and adored by everyone,” she whispered to him. “It would be as though I’d just had a bad dream, and when I woke, I’d be waking up to greet myself. It would be like a rebirth…only a rebirth into perfection and never ending happiness.”

He stared at her for a long time as she spoke, watching the corners of her lips twitch as she tried to force the smile on her face to stay in place. Then he noticed something slithering down her cheek, leaving a steam of glitter on her face. He met her glossed eyes. She was smiling at him.

“I’m ready to wake up now.”


 

February 24th, 2016.

O. Ryder.