NaNoWriMo 2020 - A Reset

 

Well, it's been a few years and few failures since I last decided to try to write 50,000 words in a month, but I thought, with all the other changes in my life, I'd give it a go.

For those of you who are new to NaNoWriMo, here's the link to what their plan entails.  https://nanowrimo.org/  They even have a Junior division for the kids where the adults in their lives can help them to set a challenging but not completely unrealistic goal so that they, too, can dedicate their November to putting words on a page.  https://ywp.nanowrimo.org/

Now that that is out of the way...on to MY plan.  

I don't have a book this year, I don't have a short story.  I suppose I could pull out some of the projects that I haven't finished...and I might.  But this year is about getting back in the writing saddle.  It's probably been 3 years since I've really written anything other than curriculum.  Now, I'm ALWAYS writing that, but that feels very stilted and job-like.  I miss having a story.  Something to settle into and dream.

So, that's my goal for this year.  Get back to dreaming while I write.  I'm in a very quiet time in my life.  No doubt, I'll fill you in if I do manage to write, but suffice to say, while I do work all the time, I am alone during my downtime a lot.  What better time to hammer on the keys really.  I'm not really an introvert, but I can play at one at least for November. :)

So, maybe there will be a story...maybe blogs...maybe just miles and miles of self-indulgent journaling.  Who knows?

I hope you all fulfill your writing dreams in November (even if you desire to have NO writing dreams :) )

See you around,
Stack

The Wonderful Wordiness of Words...

I was reading today.

Not that odd actually.  I read SOMETHING everyday.  But today I was actually by myself, with a real live hard backed book, reading something that I wanted to read with no one asking me questions or expecting anything out of me at the end of it.

It was lovely. 

As I was reading, I found myself sinking into the words. And then, a real live interruption occurred.  Not a big deal, normal, daily life edging out the quiet space the author and I shared.  I went on with my day, but in the quiet moments, I found myself going over the words that had delighted me.  Chuckling to myself, finding joy in the cleverness of words strung together to paint a picture for me to experience inside my mind.

I know I'm a word person.  From lyrics to poetry to prose, words have always stuck with me.  OTHER people's words.  The details of a scene that can be shown with words...the simplicity and the magnitude...words are cool.

Things like:

"Lastly, in lieu of these shifting scenes, came back the rude market-place of the Puritan settlement, with all the townspeople assembled, and leveling their stern regards at Hester Prynne--yes at herself--who stood on the scaffold of the pillory, an infant on her arm, and the letter A, in scarlet, fantastically embroidered with gold thread, upon her bosom." Nathaniel Hawthorne - The Scarlet Letter

Or


"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all..."
Emily Dickinson

Or

"Jesus wept" John 11:35 NASB

I don't really memorize, but I do remember the jist.  Thankfully Google / Bing / Yahoo and the like have made it unnecessary to memorize popular words so long as I always have my phone near me.  I'm a little ashamed about it.  I mean really, my mom knows all the words I know and more, and she never spaces out on how to spell them...maybe I'm more jealous than ashamed.

I just know that I'm an odd ball because of this passion for words.  Now it's kind of cool.  In my 40s my peers understand me and often think me charming for my quirky vernacular. (or at least that's what I tell myself.)  But...oooo...growing up?  Not so much.

My bestie, Kehaar...I've told you about her...we lived in Florida at the same time from the time I was 9 until 13.  She was a word nerd, too.  And I have many lyrics and rhymes in my head that we learned together in those years  But then, as happened a few times in my life, we moved, and then moved again...Two high schools my freshmen year doesn't make for deep friendships who understood my...ehem...charm.  Honestly, I didn't like to write back then, so I didn't chase where the other wordy kids hung out.

But in my second high school, my English teacher, loquacious in her own right, pushed me (kicking and screaming, I might add) onto a path that would eventually lead me to my love of Shakespeare and eventually my love of chronicling...and I suppose even blogging.

Someone teased me the other day that I speak like I write.  I had no idea what she meant, I mean, doesn't everybody?  But I suppose she meant that she liked that I have too many words and a nutty vocabulary...and I'm glad because it is fun to figure out new words that fit the situation.  Except when I'm tired...and I'm out of nouns...then I use words like doohickey...and stuff...liberally.

or if I've had more than one glass of wine...then all bets are off...

Just keepin it real.

See ya around...

Morning Pages...

I told you that I was reading "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron on another blog post a week or so ago...Yeah, still not finished with it.  But, we ARE using a tool from it called "morning pages", much to my darling childrens' disappointment.

The purpose of the morning pages is not new, especially to a journaling sort of person.  It's a rough get-it-down-on-paper-and-out-of-your-head-so-you-can-move-on sort of journal.  One of the interesting things about it for me is the rules. 

"Every morning, set your clock a half-hour early; get up and write
three pages of longhand, stream-of-consciousness morning writing. 
Do not reread these pages or allow anyone else to read them. 
Ideally, stick these pages in a large manila envelope or hide them somewhere. 
Welcome to the morning pages.  They will change you."

I've been doing them since the beginning of June and I'll tell you, it really DOES help with ideas because you aren't supposed to stop...So, you get to this place where you are SO VERY done doing it...you REALLY REALLY don't have anything else to write and you are ready to put them away.  But you CAN'T because of the three page rule, you are STUCK.  So, you push through and sure enough, there are still ideas in there, irritations or problems that you still need to lay down or just lists of things that you don't want to forget.  And you get to that last flourish of your pen humming "We are the Champions" because you did it...it was hard...and you didn't WANNA...and you did it.  In the end, you don't just have a few extra ideas, you have that tremendous feeling of having won.  Granted, it's words on a page...but hey, a win is a win.

One of the "problems" that I'd like to overcome this year, is my kids' reluctance to write any but the most basic information on paper.  They want to email, text or whatever.  They have not really been allowed to do much of that in any form but especially not in school.  And yet, they persist in asking. 

I started morning pages with them, more as a good discipline than a WRITING assignment.  They are allowed to fill up their pages with "I don't know what to say" or any other repetitive sentence but not single letters or pictures and I've changed the number of pages for each of them into a more appropriate amount.  But I want them to get into the habit of writing down thoughts, even if they never do it beyond the time I require it.

I do "look" at their pages, just to make sure they are actually doing them.  They date the first page and then I glance to make sure that they've actually filled in the required space and not just scribbled or drawn pictures or any of a number of things they have tried to DECEIVE me!!!  (I'm becoming very wise, daily.) But I do my best NOT to read them and if I accidently pick up a word or two, I strike it from my memory as best I can.  They do their pages in a spiral just for ease of storage, but that I'm aware of, they don't look back, except to add smiley faces and an odd picture of a cow, but that's not really READING them.  So far only one kid has asked me to read her pages, but it should be mentioned that she's already one of those artsy fartsy writer types, so it was kind of to be expected.

By and large they detest this exercise.  I present you a photograph collection called "We HATE Morning Pages" with an alternative title, "Our Mom Stinks and We Are Not Now, Nor Will We Ever Be Writers So She Should Just Get A Grip"...possibly that one will prove too cumbersome, no matter the truth in the advertising...

 

Monkey Face hates morning pages so much she is

USUALLY trying to write vertically, hanging upside down. 
Although I would NEVER read them, I'm very thankful
that her vocabulary has not caught up with
the malice she feels about this assignment. 
"Poopy-head" is a much safer way to vent, in my opinion.

 

 

 

Bear doesn't ACTUALLY hate morning pages, she

has chosen to use this as her outlet to write either the next

great American novel or a fabulous play.

We often sing, "One of these things is not like the others

One of these things just isn't the same" about Bear.

 

Beanie puts up with her morning pages but often

writes, "I HATE morning pages" and "This is lame"

within the pages themselves.  I do not know this, of course,

because the sanctity of the morning pages means

that I don't read them...or ever remember if I did...

Nor would I ever immortalize them on a public blog...ehem.

She really dislikes being around any of us while she's

writing them...thinks we're too happy...
and stupid...and she prefers the dog.

I don't really care if they like them or not.  Much as I do not care if they like broccoli.  I'm the boss, so they have to write them anyway.  (That sounds pretty good, doesn't it?  I sound like a toughie, right?  I'm working on it but they have really blue eyes and really pretty eyelashes and sometimes I have to yell stuff like, "I'M THE MOM, I DON'T CARE IF YOU LIKE IT" over my shoulder to maintain my backbone.)

 

Besides, I've noticed that they are starting to just accept them as their fate, aside from Monkey Face and her steely will.  There are some interesting things coming out of them.  Right now, I figure, it can't hurt.  If they can learn to use them as an outlet, even better.  But at the very least it will strengthen their fingers for when they are writing all the assignments that I DO get to read.  I'm very excited.

See ya around...

The Introverted Extroverted Scorpio

The inspiration for this piece was an article called "The Care and Feeding of Your Extrovert" from The Badger's Sett as well as this picture about How to treat an introvert that I first ran across on facebook awhile ago.

Over the years, most people who meet me have assumed that I am an extrovert, and I suppose I am. 

I CAN get up in front of a crowd and speak or sing or teach and once the microphone is in my hand I'm usually A-O-Kay...even if I've spent 3 weeks losing sleep and hair over it.

I am RARELY without some sort of friend in a fairly short amount of time no matter how often I've moved in my life.

I find "friends" in the darnest places...the grocery store...the parking lot...while pumping gas.

I have friends at every social strata and am pretty unimpressed with those social aspects that are supposed to matter.  I really don't care if you are a president of a company or a custodian or an elderly saint or a young sinner, or tattooed and need to pull up your pants, or have the right shoes and handbag etc.  That means that just about ANYONE is fodder for my friend collection.

HOWEVER...

I do have some weird introverted tendencies (not that being introverted is weird...just weird in an otherwise extrovert)...if I'm not TRAVELING, I'm kind of a homebody and the kind of homebody that doesn't really need anyone to come over.  I mean, I do wish I was more hospitable, but I also like to not worry too awfully much about the kitchen.  Not sure if that is truly introverted or just plain lazy.  I'm really good at ignoring people if I'm focused on something, like, for instance a really good book.  I'll sit by you...but otherwise, hush.  I tend to be a tad shy around new people and will stick like glue to whoever brought me until I'm comfortable.

I've been looking at personality tests and love language tests for awhile.  Not sure why exactly, it's just kind of interesting to see tendencies in people especially when they identify with one trait or another.  Then to throw another fun twist on it, I came across something about Scorpios (yes, I am one) a few weeks ago.  By and large I dismiss the zodiac stuff, but this particular article described me and a couple of my close Scorpio friends really well.  So I poked around a little.

They talked about the intense Scorpio stare and that often, the first thing people will notice about you is your eyes.  Got it...and it has gotten me into trouble on several occasions.  They talked about the intensity with which Scorpios can chase things, be it relationships or goals or projects..."would you care for a full page grocery list separated out by section of the store AND changed as the store changes, accompanied by a massive excel spreadsheet for menus that span the meals of 6 months or so?"... I have just the thing and will email it to you right now.  They talked about our secretiveness ... Our ability to hide in plain sight when we don't want to share...of course I don't want to talk about this one...would YOU if you had this super power?  I think not.

So...phew...It would seem, consulting all these things, I AM all that AND a bag of chips.  Bet you are, too.

One of my favorite things to do is guess about the people in my life based on what I know about them and how I think they would fall in these tests.

Beanie and Monkey Face - introverted until they know you and then so extroverted and precocious you are pretty sure that they will rule the world someday...and you wish there was a mute button available.

Bear - never met a stranger, extrovert, who has never, not even as a baby, needed a single person to entertain her in her life.  I used to lose her under the furniture at 18 months old because she'd grab a toy or a book and hide away from everybody.  (See above, how her momma can ignore people.)

My mommy - shy extrovert who says the craziest things that make people laugh right out loud.  She does try to say that she's an introvert...but, well, I don't think so.

Several of my best friends...wives - total introverts who can make deep friendships that last for years within moments of sitting quietly and talking to someone that they ran across at a party that their extrovert husbands brought about.

Here are a couple of sites and tests to help you judge your friends and neighbors...muahahahaha

Jung Typology Test

5 Love Languages Test

I'm not going to link to the zodiac stuff because other than being a little interesting, I think it can head people into bad places.  Besides there are a lot of cookie laden spam sites involved.  So search that one at your own risk.

In the end I don't think any of us can be completely defined by any one classification.  But I've had kind of a good time thinking about how I deal with things based not on the nurture of my parents but just on who God made me.  How he shaped my personality and how he formed the ways that I am refreshed.  It's also helped me to understand my kids a little better as they are faced with the day to day stressors of our lives.

Try it...it's like TOTALLY fun...

See ya around...

Nah...Creativity Stinks...

Clearly I need medical help.

Setting a goal to write in my blog that I meant to keep?  And announcing it?  Like a challenge?  So people can text me and say that they READ it.  Sheesh!  I don't even LIKE being creative...takes too much time...it's too messy...doesn't fit in my schedule boxes.  Buncha artsy fartsy nonsense, am I right????  (Say yes, it IS my blog, after all.)

Yeah, I'm not buying it either. 

See I do things like go to a rehearsal for the worship team at my church this weekend...(I'm not singing...nope...just WATCHING...just to be clear)...they make me happy with all that silly-talking-to-my-soul junk.  And then that stuff just STICKS in there...making me happy.  And I fall asleep hearing their voices...remembering the frenetic-squirrel-on-red-bull energy of the drummer at 7:30 on Sunday morning...and I smile.  I wake with one of their more poignant songs on my head,

Or

I watch from afar as my brother, Mr. BakerMan, builds his chocolate dynasty, one mouth watering chocolate delight at a time.  Struggling with lunch ideas and new tastes and ways to shape the chocolate, while his love, my brother-in-law, uses his painter's eye and hands to make the bones of the shop, the display cases, the wall, a beautiful backdrop for BakerMan's chocolate...and I pray as they work on this birth of a dream that takes so much time and yet is going to be a wonderful reflection of their creativity together...

Or

I talk to my friend, the Composer, late, late at night, the only real time we can find for each other.  And I hear the absolute passion he has for his various crafts and I laugh with him as he tells me his latest project with excitement.  He always seems to consider how much work it all is, and still find the energy to get it going.  There is always a current project and then a bucket list FULL of more projects that are going to keep him busy and creative until the end of time...

and I think, "CRAP, I really have to write something today".

Being surrounded by creativity and actually embracing it is a new thing for me.  These people who have been in my life forever all of a sudden impact me differently...and I realize, it's part of who I am ...It's almost like it leaks out.  Ooozing stuff I want to say...thoughts, unformed, that I have to wrestle with to put on the page, but they are GOING on the page.  And I realize, possibly, I don't HAVE anything to say except...maybe

"Wow, look at the sky, y'all...what a glorious day today is going to be".

So I look at pictures and wonder, once again, at the beauty of my kids...and joy of my family...and thoughts form...stories...ideas...songs.  I hear all their songs...see all their pictures...go over all their words once again...and am inspired within my own realm for just a minute.

 Maybe, I have another post or two before I give it all up.  We shall see.

See ya around...

Inspiration and other stuff I complain about...

Blogging is hard.

And since I last blogged really regularly Picasa's online albums have switched over to Google+ which wants me to share my pictures with Google+ which I don't like AND don't use and now Picasa doesn't have the handy dandy share button that lets me copy what I'm embedding and although I USUALLY figure it out from Blogger I'm not positive of the procedure and it makes me cranky to try. (Did you read that all without taking a breath?  That is how I wrote it...so if you didn't...go back and read it again.  No breath.)

And I've been busy.

And the gate to my fence broke and now I can't get the trash cans out or the mower in.

And I've been planning stuff...all kinds of stuff.

And my friend bought a cooler planner than me on the very same day that I bought my planner  and now I want hers and not the one (well ONES) I bought.  AND she's moving far far away...soon.

And I got a new laptop and a new operating system and we aren't exactly on speaking terms right now.

And...Blogging is hard.

A month or so ago, a friend of mine suggested that I read "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron.  Great book.  You should read it, too.  I'm not done with mine yet...but I'm far enough in to say, "glad I'm reading it."

Anyway, "The Artist's Way" is one of those challenging books that requires you to think about the stuff you are doing...have done...and then consider that maybe there is more inspiration in your life than you are using.  As you do the things the author suggests, you start discovering more inspiration. 

Sounds great, right?  Sure enough.

And it was.  For a few weeks...it really was.

I was blogging a lot.  Singing a lot.  Reading.  Cooking.  Planning.  Cleaning. 

And then, as always ALWAYS happens...the spontaneous inspiration died. 

Part of it is my issues with people.  Yep, me, the friendly one, I have issues with you all.  It makes no sense to WRITE this out-loud on a public blog, but as much as I like to stand up and write and talk and sing with and in front of people...I have a huge issue when people notice.  And it's worse if they like what I'm doing.  And inspiration KILLING if they know me well enough to look me right in the eye.

It's performance anxiety of the worst kind.  I'm not afraid to DO stuff.  I'm afraid that you'll NOTICE and have any opinion.  Super weird quirk, if you ask me.

Anyway...so less than 3 weeks into the book...people that love me started noticing that I was doing some of this stuff...and complimented me.  So I quit.  Because, y'know, that's the logical thing to do when you find a little bit of success in something...quit immediately...solves ALL the problems of the world.  PPPFFFFFTTTT.  Sometimes I get so tired of myself.

All of those words to say...I'm challenging myself and I'm inviting you along for the ride.  I'm learning to write.  I'm a beginner in this art and any talent that I may currently possess is completely God-given.  Other than teaching my children, I've never studied this craft...I've never written long enough to get past the inspiration killers.  To write when I didn't feel like it, about things I may not be passionate about is part of the challenge.  To write ANYWAY, regardless. 

I think that figuring out how to write regardless of inspiration might be a key for me to do other things beyond my circumstances.  I'll tell you, I think this might be a rung on this ladder out of depression for me.  But, I really like to hide when I feel like too many people are looking, because watching TV is far less judgy.  And I'm talking about ME here people, I get judgy on myself if you are looking.  And I'm MEAN.

So, I'm TRYING to write anyway.

(There's a statement that is going to come back and bite me.)

So expect me to.  And when the post goes badly or weird...know that I'm just learning.  I'm learning to write.  I'm learning to let people into my strange little head and I'm learning to focus on the writing and not necessarily on what other people think about it.  So think to yourself, "She's gotta learn,' and PLEASE keep reading...keep commenting...keep looking me in the eye.  Eventually, I'll be able to look back. 

Right now, I think I'm gonna figure out the stupid picture thing...please hold...I even have an analogy...are you ready?

Okay...so I like the sky...and I was taking pictures of the clouds and when I pulled the pictures into Picasa I pushed the little "I'm feeling lucky" button.  The resulting picture made me super happy.  The sky was vibrant blue the clouds puffy white.  Now, I'd liked the original picture...it looked JUST like what God gave me...but with a VERY little help, the picture got better.  That's what I want to happen with my writing...I like it very much when I'm inspired, it's beautiful, but I want to learn more, practice more, to tweak it into something better.

Sigh...we will be working on analogies...Here, why not look at these clouds...

Pretty, huh?

 

Vibrant-er, huh?

 

 

Well, like it or not, I'm doin it anyway!  ;)

See ya around...