Some Wayward Thoughts

Unfortunately, NaNoWriMo was not a success. Although, it was my first attempt during a month that just got a little bit too crazy so I feel like I get a pass on this one. There’s always next time!

I haven’t been writing much lately, my life has been all sorts of surprises, excitements, disappointments, heart aches, and warm fuzzies this past few weeks. I need to find some time to hammer out some chapters, I’m thinking a library hunker-down is in order this week.

Updates? The insanity that’s hit me full force? Well, as I was getting heavily into planning my wanderlust experiences a new force came into my life, subtly then all at once. Needless to say it’s taking up a lot of my time, which I am more than willing to give. For lack of a better name, since for some reason it’s incredibly hard for me to come up with one, we’ll just call him Flynn Rider. Just insert all those cliches you know I’m thinking and you’ll understand what’s going on there with Flynn Rider. It’s one of those insane things that you don’t ever think actually exist.

Apart from this lovely and whimsical development, I’ve been dealing with a hurricane of tangled negativity. The brash speed with which this hit was unbelievable and frankly, nearly unbearable.  I’m still recovering from the emotional beating.

I’ve had excessive amounts of emotional changes from both ends of the spectrum hit me all at once. It’s something that has caused my mind to be a little bit scattered and blind-sided to say the least. But, all these things I experience are something I need both to grow as a person and a writer. What is good literature without experience? It’s just not good.

I’m hoping that this week I’ll be working on some scene setting exercises, which I will share with you. Just little excerpts to set a mood, tone, etc. I feel like I’m a little out of practice with the poetic-type prose. I haven’t written any of my bleak, post-modern short stories and I feel as if I may be over due.

My thoughts seem to be scattering to the winds yet again, dancing away with the dust.

Well, keep reading, dear reader and do love the skin you’re in, it’s the only one you get.


Life and All The Names

I’m still here, albeit in a lesser sense, but I’m still here.

I’ve had a rough couple of months. I’ve been over worked, emotionally strained, more stressed than I’ve ever been, hit bottom, and slowly began to  find myself again.

My little girl, my beautiful kitten had a genetic defect, which didn’t affect her until she grew to a certain size. Being a manx my little Lux had manx syndrome and lost nerve control at the end of her spine and all the corresponding sphincters. My landlords got angry, my vet bills got expensive (even though the vet did nothing for her and I did all the research). In the end I had to put my little girl down at nine months old. I couldn’t bare to watch her in so much pain. I live with pain every day and I couldn’t put her through that. She now resides next to my first cat Cleo, who lived a good 17 years. She lies under a bed of evening primrose.

The stress and grief have kept me from writing and reading. I couldn’t think of anything else. I’m still grieving, even though it’s been almost a month since I lost her. But things are getting easier. Today, I actually feel a little bit more like me.

So I chose today to finally finish reading All The Names by José Saramago. I’ve loved every novel of his that I’ve read. All The Names, however is the only one that has left me with a complete and utter sense of the spectacular beauty that lies in the most ordinary people. Blindness and Seeingwhile masterfully written, open your eyes but make you weep for humanity. The Cave makes you cringe at the horrible way our lives are dictated by the cold fist of capitalism. All The Names just gave me an incredible sense of the complexities and subtitles of the human condition.

The story is almost disappointingly simple. Senor José, a clerk at the Central Registry, has a hobby of collecting the life information of celebrities from the news papers, but when he accidentally takes the registry card of an unknown woman he sets out to find her. He doesn’t do much besides research. There is absolutely no action whatsoever, unless you consider walking and bus taking action. But Saramago’s style is so captivating that you don’t even realizes there isn’t any action. There were so many passages in this novel that I fell in love with. Here’s on of my favourites:

“As for the metaphysical thoughts, my dear Sir, allow me to say that any brain is capable of producing them, it’s just that we cannot always find the words.”

Of course, naming the main character after one’s self gives rise to a plethora of questions and gives new meaning to the character. But the depth in which his thoughts were written and the conversations that Senor José has with himself reflect so well the inner workings of a person who spends nearly all his time alone that you forget that you’re not reading about yourself. I’m kind of a major loner myself these days and to know that other minds work so tirelessly to explain things to themselves gives me a sense of comfort.

The only thing I didn’t much care for in this novel was the way it was translated. This happens whenever I read a book by Saramago or Marquez. The grammars of our languages are so different. While the translator did a great job, I’m just not fond of reading dialogue between people all in one sentence or having about 30 clauses in one sentence separated by commas. But, that’s really more of a taste issue.

I highly recommend that you read All The Names. By the end you wont help but have a soft smile creep onto your face.

Life… here’s an update, also my excuses for not writing.

Well, I’m been avoiding my blog. Why? Because I’ve been making excuses. I’ve been avoiding my writing. School, family, Holidays, social life, surgery, and on and on. I don’t have time to write.

Wrong, I do.

But, surprise surprise I make excuses to myself because, dun dun dun! I’m afraid of failure. How do you fail at writing a blog? Beats the hell out of me but my pessimistic mind has overtaken my sanity apparently.

To be honest, I just didn’t want to think while recovering from surgery. My health is not in the best shape, in more than one way. So, I’ve been “focusing” all my energies on getting better. But, happy people heal faster, yet I’ve been wallowing. Yes, I know I’m being stupid. But hey, who takes their own advice? No one.

So, dear blog-a-sphere, I’ve been neglecting you. My love of words, while still strong has been by-passed for worry. Logic dictates that I will heal, that I will get back to normal life, that my health issues are not that bad. Emotion however, which bypasses all and any Logic with me, tells me to worry, to fret, and so on. Sorry Logic, you and I have never been as tight as Emotion and I. Funny how I lean towards the irrational of the two. What does that say about me? A lot. Hey, emotions make you a good writer… that’s my other excuse.

Well folks, I’m here to say that I will strive harder to use this passion of mine! Also, I know you’re all dying to read on about my lovely zombie-pocalyps characters, so I’ll do my best to keep the suspense at a minimum.