writing


This breakup has me thrown
2 weeks? 3?
It feels like an eternity.
It’s hitting me all over
unexpectedly.
Tears have mostly dried,
and now I’m only yearning
wondering
if I’ll ever get over you.

I know, I know:
Time heals all wounds,
but what can I do
when the only one I want
is you?
People ask me why
and I answer,
“It was mutual,” twisting.
Because I’ve lost it
Because we could fix it
if things were different
if we weren’t long-distance
Because I don’t know anymore
Because all I want
is you
is you
is you
is you

– 1 –

It would be easier to be angry
but I’m not
It would also be easier to eat
but I’m not
so I’m
sick
hungry
cold.
And this is the cycle
at least for awhile

– 2 –

You know what your problem is?
I said
laughing
so I wouldn’t cry
He looked at me
a pained look on his face.
You’re too good
I said.
I barely got a smile
before he threw it back at me
You’re the better one
he said.
So we sat there
complimenting each other
in the middle
of our breakup

– 3 –

In mind over matter
is matter heart?
Because I think matter
Brainmatter
Grey.
There is the mind
and Things That Matter
and Heart
where is Heart?

– 4 –

The person I would vent to
The person I would laugh with
I would send that funny link to
I would explain my thoughts to

We will heal
but for now
I’ve lost
my best friend

Due to things
we could probably fix
if circumstances were
different.

– 5 –

My friend said
To put the wallowing on steroids
And heal before my hike

Well.

I’m writing bad poetry

So.

But also
I got compliments on my prose
regarding the breakup –
Prose –
Not Poetry.
Bad, Poetry.
Down.

 

[Edit: Last night can now probably be known as “sobbing night”]. In honor:

I jump
each time there’s a new text
anytime my inbox count
adds a number
Hoping it will be you
And cringing if it is
Because I am not ready
Except, I am:
This is always the worst part
We shouldn’t talk
but I want to
I want to

I want to tell you about my day
I want to send you silly pictures
I want to throw my arms around you
and never let go.

But I can’t.

There is a post going ’round on Facebook to share poetry with others, and then have them do the same. I thought it would be fun to try on WordPress (and I owe you all a post anyway). Slightly modified rules, and my poem, are below:

“The notion is to flood WordPress with poetry. Someone assigns you a poet, you post one of his/her poems, and if people comment on your post, you assign poets to them.”

I got Christina Rossetti, and picked

“In An Artist’s Studio”

One face looks out from all his canvases,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans:
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.
A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer-greens,
A saint, an angel — every canvas means
The same one meaning, neither more nor less.
He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him,
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light:
Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.

I did it! I just won National Novel Writing Month – 50,000 words in…wait for it…only 29 days!

Excuse me while I go dance on air.

Numbers are in and validated at:

winner 2013

 

Thanks to everyone who helped me get there!!!

It’s Day 18, and I won’t be writing tonight. I am ahead! And exhausted. But look, see!

Night of Writing Dangerously

This weekend, I attended an all-night affair we lovingly call “Night of Writing Dangerously” – an event which is always put on in San Francisco, OLL HQ. A group decided to make our own here in northern Virginia, and at the last minute, secured a free space where we could spend the night. I coordinated to get a ride to the library that was hosting us, and arrived around 1pm. We scattered around the library until 4, when we got one of the meeting rooms. At 5, the library closed and the madness began. People brought lots of food to share, a coffee machine, sleeping bags and blankets, copious amount of caffeine, and lots of energy. At peak, we had about 30 people there! Everyone cheered when someone yelled out a milestone:

25,000!!! WOOO

60,000!!! WOOO

They finally kissed!!! WOOO

The giggles came and went several times. We had periods of loud talking and laughter and jokes, and then suddenly all would go quiet as people refocused on their novels and characters. I was there 21 hours, and slept just an hour and a half, at the very end, the next morning. The library bought us pizza! And juice and donuts for the morning. Seriously, they rocked it. They were the greatest hosts, which is saying something: have you ever been in the same room as 30 frantic novelists?

My Novel Updates

As for me, I trudged through and managed to write 10,000 words! So now I’m up to 35,000, which means I have just 15,000 left. So weird. I don’t think 50,000 will be the end of my novel, which is strange and exciting. My last novel I wrote ended pretty close to 50,000, and so I’m excited that this one is so sustaining. I’m also excited because I can feel myself growing as a fiction writer. My characters have stepped out of the pages and faced me head on (one even left). When they discover a will of their own, when they make decisions you didn’t make for them? It’s an incredible feeling (and also wildly disconcerting). Two major things happened with my characters and their wills. One, my villain, put up a fight to my wicked plans for him, and there were hours when I thought he wouldn’t do what I wanted him to. That he wouldn’t become the villain I’d planned him to be. I mean, villains never think of themselves as villains, right? As I increased his rage, he started yelling – but at me. And all of a sudden I thought: he’s not going to do it. It was weird, to get that sense. I have a plan to wrangle him into at least keeping part of my plot – the one I spent days outlining, including several concerning him. Hours went by, and I pushed this problem out. Then, I flipped back to my “present-day” setting and wrote a chapter – and at the end of it, one of my characters told me he was not coming back from the trip I sent him on. He was gone. And he didn’t even have the decency to tell me beforehand! And he’s generally a good guy. It was shocking, really, to realize that. From afar – and I do mean afar – he waved and said “bye.” Come on!

Oh the thrills and woes of writing. I am having so much fun!

I am now 5 days into the madness. I don’t have much time for anything but writing – and even this post is taking precious noveling time away (or food, or sleep, or other sanity times). But so far, I’m ahead of where I need to be, which is exciting, since I’ve never been able to do that yet in my three years of trying this. Check it:

I am not certain that this trend will continue, but thanks to awesome pep talks like the one today from Catherynne Valente, it might. It is certainly nice to have the padding. Today I barely made it past the 1,667 requirement before packing up my things. I enjoy writing with other writers – the energy is infectious (and there’s the peer pressure and word sprints, too, of course, which help tremendously). 

Also I’d like to point out to all y’all that NPR has an article about National Novel Writing Month. Uh-huh. Legit. They even did one last year, too. We’re crazy, but there are a lot of us. People who don’t do NaNoWriMo are always stunned when I tell them how many novelists there are currently typing away furiously for a month. As of this writing, this moment, there are 280,570.

Uh, yeah, so speaking of….

I will be pretty quiet this month. I’m trying to post daily updates on the fun new meter off to the right, on that nifty sidebar, so check in there for my latest. Cool? Cool. Peace out. Happy writing.

10 days ago, in a rather silly mood, I gave you a peek into the world of National Novel Month 2013 and roughly what’s in store for me. Much has changed since then, including the major points of my plot. My muse is much happier now, even if it’s taking a turn into fantasy, something I never thought I’d do.

But that is actually nothing compared to my excitement over this:

My dad is going to do NaNoWriMo with me this year!

Repeat: my dad is going to do NaNoWriMo with me this year!

I can’t even – I’m so excited! SO EXCITED, I tell you. This is awesome because, well, dad. But also, he is an incredible writer. He is king of his industry, and is editor and co-owner of a monthly magazine which is rocking the competition like whoa. I’ve done NaNo for two years; this will be my third attempt (and hopefully second win!). His plan is to do lots of flash fiction pieces to total 50,000 words throughout November. Dad who beat up cancer last year and threw a party.

😀

Okay, also my plot. You remember that whole thing about ghost lessons? Yeah, that’s still there but majorly in the background. Here is my (evidently fantasy) plot as of now: In the 17th century, Richard was in love with Cassandra Hart, but despite everything he did for her, she never loved him back. She married Francis instead, and this made him angry. He appeared at their wedding, threatening they would rue the day etc., before taking a blade and stabbing himself through the heart. He stayed on earth as a ghost, and then underwent the requirements for becoming a Voleruh and took on the name Reshkhi. Voleruhs are evil creatures of the undead that steal ghost’s souls. Reshkhi has hunted the Hart family for centuries, with the desire to rip out the female Harts’ souls. Thanks to protection left by Cassandra, Jillian’s and Lea’s ancestor, he was unable to destroy them. Now, the youngest Hart, Jillian, has died at age 17, and her mother, Lea, has been trying to protect her from Reshkhi. Lea died one year ago, and when she did, the protection was broken. Now, Reshkhi is determined to take the soul of Lea’s daughter, Jillian.

* For the record, I’m aware of the “isn’t a ghost a soul?” issue and my comeback is: ghost = spirit; soul = soul. So hah.

It’s a work in progress. I had to create a creature – a Voleruh – which seemed to put me firmly in the fantastic. Which is SO weird. But whatever, let’s run with it, right? Don’t confuse my startled-ness with disliking fantasy; on the contrary it’s one of my favorite genres to read. But it’s also a lot of work and I admit I’m pretty nervous. Still, it’s an easier switch, as I’m not building worlds or races or languages a la Tolkien.

None of that is really important.

My dad is doing NaNoWriMo with me!

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