Month-In-Review: November

I'm a little late posting my riveting, recurring review of my monthly life, and I apologize for all of those who waited with bated breath.  So, what happened?  Well...

• ...I decided to shelve the job hunt for at least the duration of the holiday season.  I just know I'm going about it all wrong, and it's more than a little annoying to be treading water for so long and getting nowhere.  I haven't given up (Really!  I haven't!), though.
• I, as expected and required, ate too much over Thanksgiving.  I usually ride that hedonistic train from Thanksgiving until New Year, but I'm trying to rein it in between holidays with some smarter choices.  Doesn't seem to make a difference to my waistline, though.  Over 30, and the metabolism seems to come to a screeching halt.
• We haven't even had our first real snowfall, it's still autumn, and I'm already sick of winter.  That depresses me, as I've always been a fan of sweater weather.  I do increase my coffee drinking during these months, though, and that's always comforting, especially with a little Baileys.  
• I got nothin'.

So there you have it, another month, another roller coaster ride.  Bleh.

Inhabiting the Character

Pride and Prejudice is a great romance novel.  With characters so interesting and vivid, it's no wonder Jane Austen's work has been adapted many times to both big and small screens, as well as having been the source material for other novels, like Bridget Jones' Diary (a personal favorite) and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.  Sometimes Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her Fitzwilliam Darcy are as real as if they were sitting in this room with me.

I'm currently all aflutter over P&P because I watched a charming movie the other night, Lost in Austen.  It tells the tale of a die-hard P&P fan, Amanda, who discovers the heroine of her favorite novel in her bathroom, after the latter has come through a door from Regency-era Longbourne (fictional home of the Bennet family) into the shower of our protagonist in modern-day London.  They switch places for a time, during which Amanda completely turns the plot of this classic novel on its head.

As events change, characters previously missing from the original novel appear, and it's if they have always been there, only Jane Austen forgot to tell us about them.  The world of Pride and Prejudice is fully intact, especially the dreamy Mr. Darcy.

I don't know what it is about Mr. Darcy that makes him so irresistible.  He is a snob, he jumps to conclusions, he lets his (wait for it) pride get in the way of finding happiness, and he says terrible things to Elizabeth over the course of their "courtship", but there is just something about him.  When it comes to the actors who portray this hero, may I just say, damn.

Colin Firth was my first Darcy.  He was cast in the film version of Bridget Jones' Diary partly because of his amazing portrayal in the 1995 BBC production of P&P.  Dandy collar and all, he was to die for, especially emerging from the lake on Pemberly in a white shirt and breeches. 

Then came the 2005 Kiera Knightley/Matthew Macfadyen rendition.  There was something a little rougher around the edges in this Darcy, and a scene with mists and fields and open collar, oh my.

This week it was Elliott Cowan whom I saw as the haughty Fitzwilliam.  As his colleagues before him, pulling on the mantel of an arrogant, prideful suitor, Mr. Cowan transformed into something purely divine.  And kudos to the writers of Lost in Austen who, in a wonderful homage to the 1995 film, had Amanda instruct Darcy to go into the lake.  Sigh.

I'm not sure I'm a big fan of that period, the restraint, the propriety, the clothes, but when each of those actors (who are attractive and talented in any role I've seen them play otherwise), puts on that Regency garb, curls his lip just so, looks down upon a witty and intelligent woman and say, "My good opinion once lost is lost forever," well, it's enough to sink down in your seat and fan yourself. 

And that is what I'm thankful for this holiday season.

(Was this post link-fantastic, or what?)

"Life is more than just mere survival"...

Tonight is the kind of night you refer to when you start a story with, "It all happened on a night just like this..."  Fall leaves swirling in the wind that echoes like a ghostly cry.  It would have been much more appropriate on Halloween and not some random Wednesday in November and cut off the power for 30 seconds in the middle of my changing out of my work clothes.  Eerie, unsettling, and yet, sitting at the traffic light on the way home from the office, my car buffeted by that relentless wind, it was comforting.  I always say I like fall the best.  I guess I'm just more nostalgic during these crisp months.

I read various, eclectic blogs -- all loads better than mine -- and one that I visit regularly is My New Plaid Pants.  A movie-driven blog, the author has various features (my particular favorite is "Thursday's Ways Not to Die"), including "Everything You Need to Know About Life..." wherein he posts a quote from a movie possessing sometimes off-the-wall insight.  Yesterday's quote was from Woody Allen's recent film, Midnight in Paris, and had an impact on me.  You can view the blog here, but I'll re-print the quote directly:

Paul: Nostalgia is denial - denial of the painful present... 

the name for this denial is golden age thinking - the erroneous 

notion that a different time period is better than the one one's 

living in - it's a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people 

who find it difficult to cope with the present.

And now I want to see the movie exclusively to hear Michael Sheen, who plays Paul, say this bit of dialogue...

Anyway, my first response was that this is absolutely true.  My second was that I am not necessarily dealing with a painful present.  The point, however, is that this isn't world-shattering information, but sometimes someone can articulate something so well that a gong of clarity sounds in your head and for a few minutes you feel like you've been shown the answer to the meaning of life.  And now I can't get that quote out of my head.

So admiring the leaves of fall dancing and frolicking in the air is just a way to deal with the here and now, I suppose.  

And even with the TV playing 'Mr. Belvedere' in the background, the wind insists on being heard...

Month-In-Review: October

These days, my only outward nod to Halloween is in color-centric clothing.  For example, today I wore an orange sweater with black slacks to work.  I really wish there had been a pair of pumpkin or black cat earrings in the jewelry chest I’d “inherited” from my mother, but no such luck.  I haven’t put together an actual costume in ages, and I haven’t handed out candy since I crossed the threshold into adulthood.  I do spend hours enjoying those dime a dozen countdowns of great horror movie moments and cheesy slasher flicks that are only worth my time when they’re so bad they’re good.  (Last year, I watched a Halloween episode of Quantum Leap from the series I had on DVD.  It wasn’t scary, by any means, but provided a nice accent to the holiday.)  

Whether grabbing a ballerina costume off the racks or helping my mom sew a witch hat and cape, Halloween definitely had more of a build up as a kid.  I remember celebrating the holiday in elementary school with a costume parade around the playground.  It didn’t feel like a school day, then.  We weren’t students; we were ghosts, princesses, Freddy Kruegers, Michael Jacksons, pumpkins, cats, and scarecrows.  Our teachers transformed into something a little cooler with just a dab or two of white face paint and blue and red for veins and blood.  We left at the end of the day not with homework, but with candy.  

Candy is always the ultimate goal.  Children don’t care about the history of Samhain or All Soul’s Day.  The sugar coma is all that mattered.  And for parents worried about their babies suffering from something worse, like poison or razor blade, they console themselves with snagging the choice treats in the name of safety.  

My dentist and my waistline insist that candy must no longer wield such influence over my 32 year-old self.  I suppose the butter-drenched popcorn on my lap while I watch a bloody good time of a horror movie will have to be the appropriate alternative.  

As for the rest of October:

• Five job applications.
• Weight gained in a sure sign of winter's approach.  I must pack on the pounds to stay warmer.  Yeah, that's it.
• My Henry (kitty cat) was diagnosed with FIV, but it's super manageable and he's been aces since the vet.  I'll make sure he stays that way.

 "The veil is getting thin my friends,

And strange things will pass through." 

Kind of gives you chills, doesn't it?

Month-In-Review: September

I really debated whether or not to post the details of another uneventful month.  Eventually, habit won out.  September sped by, and in those blink-and-you'll-miss-it days, I have succeeded in doing the following:

• Becoming hyper-vigilant over my new car.  Documenting the miles under me before I have to fill up with gas, giving it a critical eye every morning for nicks or scratches, and even contemplating the RPMs as I accelerate.  I am not car crazy by any means -- just ask my old Spectra -- but now I have to fight the urge to give other Nissan drivers a nod as I pass them on the road.  So, I ask you, WTF?
• Applying to 7 jobs.  The momentum here is slowing considerably.  I feel like I need to take a step back, start over.  I haven't looked into the volunteering thing seriously enough.  I really should do that.
• Watching Pscyh episodes ad finitum.  Having basic cable, I've never seen an episode until this year, thanks to Netflix streaming, and now I am totally addicted.  I'm going through the past five seasons for the second time.
• Contemplating a big fall deep clean.  My apartment is picked up, but definitely needs some effort under the furniture, etc.  Contemplation is all I've done, so far.

And so I struggle to think of more to add.  I'm a little restless, but not terribly bored.  That's good enough for now.

Articulate

Technology is always on the brain, and it seems that it is often a subject here, so if I can't think of anything else to mull over, I just don't post for fear of being redundant.  Well, screw it.  I'll take the chance.

I am really getting into productivity software, and it's about time.  I'm finally exploring all of the cool things in the Microsoft Office Suite 2007, like Access (and the confusing codes needed to develop the exact query I have in mind) and InfoPath.  My appreciation for technology grows by leaps and bounds.

I've even started softening towards E-readers, more so recently as I'm having a hard time getting my hands on a copy of The Help for book club and am really reluctant to go out and buy it.  From what I understand, electronic copies of books are a little less expensive than the traditional print copies, and as I'm trying really hard to curb my spending (please note that I am totally aware of the fact that investing now in an E-reader to get a cheaper version of one book really, totally defeats the purpose of tightening my budget), I thought that it was a decent consideration.  It was actually kind of liberating to be open to the possibility when previously I just wanted to slam the door in the faces of Kindle, Nook, and the like.

My negative reaction to E-readers stems from the "print is dead" argument.  Those that support the abolishing of print books can point to E-readers as cause for such action.  While intellectually I know that traditional books are far from disappearing, I've met many people who assert that they will never need a book shelf again, it feels like a plague is among us.

Sure, that sounds obscure and doesn't really make a good argument against the "print is dead" assertion, but that's because sometimes I can't articulate gut feelings.  Luckily, there are others who can.  This post came to me through my RSS feed this evening and I knew I had to re-post it right away.  The writer illustrates her point poignantly and succinctly, and I couldn't agree with her more.

Oh, and when I'm ready for an E-reader, because it does seem inevitable, no matter how enamored I am with   my new toy, I'll not only be grateful that I can afford it, I'll still keep my book shelves.

Month-In-Review: August

Another fascinating month is at an end.  We are also closing in on the end of summer.  Fall will officially be here this month, September.  I have to say that I am much looking forward to it.  I'm a middle ground kind of girl: Fall and Spring are my favorites.  And why shouldn't they be?

So what did I accomplish the past, uh, august weeks? (Har-har.)  Let's see:

• I bumped up my job application totals from July, but only by half.  I made it to 6.  Is it the summer mind-set or what?  Now that the kiddies are back in school, will I be getting to work, too?
• I had a promising start to the weight loss this month, with a couple of pounds, but this last week put me to back to where I started August 1.  Still, maintenance is better than gain.
• I got a summer cold from which I am suffering a lingering cough that keeps me up at night and bothers anyone lucky enough to spend time with me.  
• I bought a new (-ish) car.  My 2002 Spectra was fine, with the exception of a slightly noisy engine, a slow leak in the rear passenger tire, the dash coming apart at the seams, and no more letters on the back indicating what make or model she was.  Okay, fine, she wasn't fine.  Still, it stung to put her out to pasture.  Almost 9 years, you get attached to these things.  I am warming up quickly, though, to the 2008 Nissan Sentra that replaced her.  And yes, I will likely name her.  I am such a girl.

So that ends August.  If I've forgotten anything, it might be that I've rekindled my love of reading after nearly six weeks of barely picking up a book.  I returned from the library one day with three books and voila, I am a happier person again.

Books are remarkable, aren't they?  Or, should I say, the human imagination is...

"...one must describe the weather."

I don't know that one must, but Virginia Woolf certainly does, to a great extent, in her diaries.  However, as I'm only three years in, I can't say with any certainty that the trend will continue, but she does love to lament the wind and rain and honor the clear, sunny days. 

I came by VW my senior year in high school when I read A Room of One's Own for a class project.  To the best of my recollection, it was a compilation of feminist essays based on lectures she had given at two universities in England.  I do remember that I promptly bought up a few of her novels shortly thereafter and made it a mission to read her diaries. 

The closest I got was in college when I read a few pages from A Writer's Diary, which were selections from her full diary by her husband, Leonard, after her death.  Things got in the way of me ever finishing that book and graduating to the complete five volumes, despite the refrain of that Indigo Girls song in my head.

So more than ten years later I've decided to just do it and crack open those volumes.  At more than 300 pages each, it won't be a quick process, but I hope it will be an enjoyable one.  So far, it has.

The weather aside, VW is quite adept at characterizing the people in her life.  She draws caricatures of these writers, artists, and politicians that are quite entertaining.  I have also noticed a tendency to compare people to dogs.  She loves to gossip, and there is some question as to her honesty, according to Anne Olivier Bell, who edited the diaries. 

The diary has also illustrated life in London during the first World War, albeit rather casually.  The way she talks about raids and bunking down in the kitchen until the all-clear sounded is presented in almost the same tone as the weather.  I sense her get more fired up about the cost of goods and their availability during this time more than anything.  When the first volume begins, her first novel, The Voyage Out, gets published and yet she mentions it but once.  She appears to have more interest in her husband's successes, which was kind of sweet to behold.  In these early years, she has no doubt of Leonard's talents.

I've only just begun.  I'm currently in 1918 and the diaries end in 1941, just days before her suicide.  I've a lot of life left to go.  But, even in these first years, I am taken aback by her insights into human nature.  No wonder I feel so comfortable around her, even though we are lifetimes apart.

Summer Conditions...

...are that traffic will be a nightmare everyday of August.  I live outside a moderate sized city.  Traffic is generally tolerable with very few snarls.  Gridlock is not really an issue.  Back ups do happen, but rarely.  Well, at least, I had thought so.

I don't know if it's a result of so-called progress, with construction springing up new highways and what-not, or just dumb people, or a combination of both (dangerous indeed), but since August 1, I have seen a trend that is very disturbing.

That first sunny day I ran into a backup off my home road due to lane closures and on my detour, passed one three car accident and one single car accident within less than a block of each other.  Tragedy hit a few days later when three people were killed in a highway accident that was the result of an accident just moments before.  Another couple of days and another three car accident on the bridge I cross everyday on the way home, detouring me thirty minutes out of my way.  An accident two days ago on the highway rerouted everyone to my normal path home, slowing everything down. 

I'm whining.  And, I'm whining about something that's probably not even very interesting.  What it is, is just the way it is.  But the number of car accidents I've heard about, passed, avoided, just seem higher than normal.  Are we too distracted?  Impatient?  Frankly, I'm a little nervous. 

Month-In-Review: July

If  I can claim to have gone on vacation in both mind and body this summer, I will for the the month of July.  While progress on the database I'm creating for work kicked into high gear, everything else kind of came to a screeching a halt...

• I applied to 3, count 'em, 3 jobs this month, and they were all before July 15th.
• I mindlessly watched episodes of Wings and Roseanne on Netflix nonstop on my evenings and weekends.
• I, apparently, have no life.
• I went to NC for a long weekend to see my best friend and had a fabulous time, including a lovely snooze on the beach by the Atlantic.  Woke up with a decent sunburn, but...
• I am suffering now from a worse sunburn after hours at a waterpark in Michigan yesterday.  I'm also streaky from an inconsistent application of sunscreen.  Really, I'm adorable.  Red, flaky, and just precious.

So, that's all that I can say about July.  Not bad, all in all.  Weight pretty much stayed the same, calorie output was still in the 10,000 range, and I never missed a workout, even while in North Carolina, but that's easy for me.  Working out is a natural part of my lifestyle; it's the eating well that, well, you know how it is...

Will I get back on track for August?  Well, I didn't want to post tonight, but I did, no matter how sore and tired I am.  That might be a good indication.  Of what, I just don't know...

It's All Coming Back To Me Now...

Knowledge.  If you don't use it, you lose it, right?  That's why the long division I became handy at in middle school I can barely make work on a calculator today.  There is just not a lot of call for complex equations in my life right now. 

But is it really gone forever, that stuff you learned once upon a time?  Or, is it just laying dormant, waiting for a little nudge of the toe?  What's in your head are just memories, really.  Memories pop up out of nowhere all of the time.  The senses are notorious for bringing stuff back from the ether of your past.  Fresh cut grass takes me back to summers as a kid.  I hear the Quantum Leap theme song and I'm back  in front of the TV, up way past my bedtime, hoping that Dr. Sam Beckett finally leaps home.

So, wouldn't it be the same for lessons learned in school?  Sure it would.  I read a poem by William Blake, and it's Senior English all over again. 

It has been nearly two years since I finished graduate school.  I've taken some continuing education in the meantime in the forms of conferences, but I haven't used that knowledge and it's showing.  Those theories and case studies are fading little by little.  It's worrisome.

Well, it was.  Then an institution to which I applied a couple of weeks ago did me a favor.  No, they haven't hired me.  They asked for more information about my education and experience.  This is a second step in the job hunt I haven't before taken, so that's awesome, but that isn't what makes their request so meaningful.  Because of that request, I had to look back at my reasons for choosing the archival field and the skills I developed in school.  I combed through pages of assignments and notes as I prepared my responses and you know what?  I remember!  I remember archival processing, cataloging, HTML coding, EAD, creating finding aids, reference, disaster planning, stuff.  Cooler, still?  The drive is still there.

Nice.

Month-In-Review: June

June.  Well.  What can I say?  There are 30 days in the month.  Summer officially started on the 21st.  It was hot.  It was, hmm...

• I lost 2 more pounds.  Since May 1st, that is 6 pounds for any one keeping track.  
• I have really been working on cardio endurance, and in June I burned 10,900 calories (because I like to know these things).
• I only applied to 8 jobs and not the usual 10.  I probably could have gotten in 10 apps, but I was feeling rebellious.  Probably why I haven't put more effort in to changing my approach, either.
• I can't stop watching Netflix Instant.  It's a disease.
• I finally cleaned out my sun room for the first time in ages and arranged my fitness equipment just so, lining up my dumbbells in a pretty row.  It tickles me.  
• God, I'm weird.

So, those are the mundane details of last month.  Word.

Meh

It has become apparent that June will not be prolific in terms of posts.  Strangely, considering May's output, I'm not in the mood to write.  My current proclivity is a database project and designing workouts to take to the gym.  The job hunt has lost its shine (hopefully very temporary).  Maybe with summer solstice around the corner and most kids out of school, my brain has gone on vacation, too. 

But, I feel an obligation to post here and there, so...

Check.

Um...

Nearly two weeks into June and what do I have in mind for blog posts?  Perhaps this will adequately illustrate what's in my head:

Zilch.  Nada.  A barren landscape which, incidentally, looks like an interesting place to visit.  Briefly. 

Och, maybe next week.  (I mean for posting, not traveling to a desert in Chile.)

Month-In-Review: May

We finally saw some summery days in May.  Those endless gray skies and chilly temperatures gave way to the sun and 90 degrees or more.  Of course, there was still the rain, and tornado season is in full, devastating throttle.  On the tiny island of me, however, May was decent...

• I lost 4 pounds.  While that is within normal fluctuations, it was a consistent drop, so I think I'm headed in the right direction.  Since bathing suit season is upon us, I am glad.
• I stuck on topic this month with the blog posts.  It's nice not to be so random, sometimes.
• I applied to my 10 jobs, and received just as many rejections.
• I have seen the end of my series of dentist visits.  The fillings are all in, and I've been fitted for whitening trays, gratis (as a thank you, I'm sure, for dropping $2000 over the course of three months and four visits).  

May was consistent and constructive.  The anal part of my soul (that just sounds weird) is delighted.  Then there's the part of me that thinks, "Well, shouldn't my life be just a little messy?" 

Crap

I completed the final revisions.  I read through the story, aloud (easier to catch some awkward passages that way), and determined, considering the imminent deadline, that it was as good as it was going to get.  I reviewed the submission guidelines, formatted the story appropriately, and logged into the site to submit my story.  Before I went forward with the upload, I decided to look under "My Submissions" to see if I had ever sent anything to this journal before (I can never remember these things). 

Oh, well hell.  I had sent this same story in 2005.  My knee-jerk reaction was to just forget about it and move on.  Then I thought, "I'll submit it anyway."  I retracted that thought, and here I am now.  I don't regret the time I spent on the story this month.  I had fun revisiting old work and making it new.  I hope it will provide motivation to craft new pieces. 

In the meantime, I'll take a leap and post a link to the story here.  And while I really want to make excuses or qualifying statements about some choices I made for the story, I won't.  I just...whatever.

Create

First drafts are like seeds, amounting to very little until they are given care.  Then they grow and change shape, and as time passes, that seed of an idea blooms into something bright and strong, but only with the right combination of skill and persistence. 

            
As far as similes go, I won’t claim it as the best ever, but you get the general idea.  Revision is an essential part of writing.  The time that goes into smoothing the edges, fleshing out the characters, enhancing description, tightening up loose prose, that is the creative process.  It’s also my favorite part.

        
See, I love charging in to that first draft.  I write fast, anxious to just get it all down on paper, heedless of whether or not it’s any good.  And, it rarely is, although there are a few nuggets of brilliance.  It’s madness, that first draft, and there is excitement in that.  But it’s the sitting back, taking a breath, reaching for a little objectivity that is the most satisfying for me.  Especially if I’ve put a manuscript away for a while, because when I bring it out, I start questioning some decisions I made, and it becomes a little mystery to solve.  And when that manuscript has been in a drawer or on a flash drive for ten years, that mystery is trickier yet. 

            
The way I think, in fact, the way of the world, has changed in the past decade.  What might have worked in 2001 may make little sense in 2011.  Or, at the very least, is terribly out-of-date.  I don’t write period pieces, so a big part of revision is updating.  That was the first thing I did with the story I dug up for the competition.  It wasn’t altogether easy, because updating meant that certain passages would either have to go or lose all recognition, and those were the passages that might have had the most strength.  So, as I scrolled through the story, I would sometimes leave those passages alone, changed only by the notes in red font at the end of the sentence.  The notes gave me something to think about when I went through the manuscript a second time, because the first revision is never the last.

             
The first revision was the most entertaining, because it was the first I looked at it in a long time.  I laughed as much at the intended humor (I do find myself funny, but you may not.  Whatever.), as at some of the terrible prose scattered throughout the pages.  During the second run-through I was all seriousness (well, mostly) and printed the pages so I could arm myself with my red pen and actually make it look like an edited piece instead of some polished computer-generated copy.  I like handwritten notes in margins.  It’s just how I roll.

           
This was the point where I tried to recall all of my teachers’/professors’ lessons from high school and college.  High school English taught me the beauty of a good transition.  What I took away from college are parallel sentence structure (it just sounds good when read aloud) and varying the length of sentences, with which I continue to struggle because that requires the occasional short and concise sentence, and I just don’t know when to shut up.  This second draft also gave me an opportunity to use all of the fancy symbols I learned when I tried to teach myself copy editing years ago when I was determined to get a job in the publishing industry (very short-lived determination). 

            
The third revision is the rewriting stage for me.  I’m typing it from scratch, making changes as I go.  This is a longer process, because I know it will be the last time I can make adjustments, so I’m being super careful.  The deadline is looming, and then I have to let it go.  That need to let it go is a good thing; otherwise, I’d be revising one story indefinitely.  That’s how much I like the process. 

            
Revision is where the work comes in.  It might seem like creativity is beaten into submission during this time, but I don’t think it is.  I think it’s given a leg up, an opportunity to show off its best side.  No one wants to be caught just rolling out of bed, after all.

             
Am I coming up with even worse metaphors?  (Or, is it simile?  Anyone interested in a grammar lesson?  No?)

Criticism

Whenever I mention my writing, my older sister gets an attitude (yes you do).  She’d quip, “You never let any of us read it,” as if it was a mythical creature that couldn’t possibly exist without her seeing it with her own eyes.  Well, she’s not wrong.  Not that my writing is akin to Sasquatch, but that it wasn’t until my fourth year in college that I let anyone read my stuff (with the exception of a really bad, really dark poem in high school that made the rounds among my friends that I now wish I could reach back 15 years and snatch out of their hands). 

As a creative writing major, I was required to share my work, or I was in the wrong program.  I would have gotten an incomplete, never graduated, and still have had to pay back student loans that I am less than six months away from paying off (graduate loans do not apply).  To read aloud and participate in a critical discussion of a string of words sprung from my imagination (I can bring up the whole writing is like giving birth metaphor, but that’s been done, and what the hell do I know about giving birth, anyway?) was/is actually quite terrifying.  I fully expected my professor to ball up my story or play or poem and toss it into the trash can behind her.  That never happened, of course.  There was criticism, because if you praised every piece on the table, you weren’t properly analyzing the work.  And no matter how “constructive” the criticism, you lost a little bit of your soul every time someone suggested a change. 

Putting your work out there cannot be that dramatic.  Nothing would ever get published, because there would be nothing to publish.  Every piece of prose or poetry would be locked in a writer’s hard drive, where it would stay until he or she deleted it, frightened of dying and the next of kin discovering it.  And I’ll admit it: I’m a little bit that person. 

I’ve heard it before, but in light of my recent decision to revisit my writing, it seemed so timely and sage, but Tina Fey in her book BossyPants (our book club selection for May!), discusses the need to let your writing out, to not over-think it, to let it go. 

You have to let people see what you wrote.  It will never be perfect, but perfect is overrated.

What’s interesting is that I can take that advice for every job application I send out, but I cannot for my writing.  I’ve been inundated with rejections on the job front.  I shake it off and keep on applying.  Why does it have to be different for story and novel submissions?

I’ve submitted work before.  I submitted a (in retrospect, very bad) novel proposal to a popular publisher, and a poem to the same journal to which I plan to submit a short story later this month.  And I’m still here to talk about it.  I’ve even been on the other side, as the editor for my undergraduate university’s arts journal.  I had plenty of help weeding out the selections that would go into the issue, but I was the one who signed the rejection letter to those who didn’t make the cut.  It really isn’t personal.

Does this mean I’m going to suddenly share my old work for all to see?  Oh, probably not.    

Now I need to go and start revising.  Where is that red pen?

Craft

While trying to track down a copy of this month’s book club selection, and for the first time since its launch, I wished I had a Kindle.  I don’t know enough about e-readers to know if having one would have made accessing the book easier or cheaper, but I assumed it did.  With that being said, I’m over it, and glad to still have shelves cluttered with books. 

             

Thinking about books and reading inevitably leads me to think about writing.  Journaling and blogging aside, I used to write.  I wrote short stories, attempted novels, and even penned some pretty pitiful poetry.  It wasn’t just something to do as an expressive teenager; I majored in it as an undergrad.  I invested money in books and magazines about the craft, went to a writer’s conference, submitted a few pieces to various publications, and thought for a time that this was my true path.  Then, right around the time I entered grad school, I stopped following that path.  I even wrote about it (of course):

…Today I opened a bound notebook and read writing exercises I completed, short story and novel ideas, and journal entries proclaiming my life’s goal to be a published novelist.  …[T]hey reflected ideas and ambitions from 2000 and 2001.  When I look back over the past eight years, I am convinced that I have not changed in all that time, because I define who I am by what I do.  I go to work, I work out, and I read.  Broken down that simply, I have been stagnant for almost a decade. 

However, that’s not true.  This notebook proves that an essential part of me is different.  I no longer yearn to be a published novelist or short story writer.  For twenty years this had been my direction.  I wrote off and on for years, but even during the off periods, I still believed in what I wanted to do.  Well, I haven’t written fiction in about three years, but this is not an off period.  I’ve consciously let the dream go…and I’m okay with that. 

That was in 2009, and I’ve been busy enough with grad school and the job search that I haven’t thought much on the fact that I don’t write stories anymore.  I did think about writing, and was pleased when I discovered that the information profession has a need for, and even an expectation of, its members to publish.  And those essays that are so requisite in classroom learning?  I was most definitely in my own strange little heaven there. 

            

Expository writing, however, isn’t what I had hung my hat on all those years, and in the past week, I’ve rediscovered a yen for fiction and fancy craft.  I want to revisit some of my old work and try my hand at new ideas.  Years ago I subscribed to an electronic newsletter of a journal that publishes short stories and since I have never unsubscribed, I got an email this week announcing a new writer’s contest that I’m seriously considering entering (deadline is May 31, so some polished old work might have to do).

So May just may become a theme month in terms of blog posts, like “The Writer’s Spirit” or some such nonsense.  With that in mind, I struggled with how to craft this first post.  I thought about stand-out moments in my writing past, evidence that it was something important to me, and I thought of Zen in the Art of Writing, by Ray Bradbury.  I remember sitting in study hall, gripping those pages tightly, in awe at how he could so accurately echo everything I had felt at the time.  I still have the book, a little worn around the edges, whole passages highlighted or underlined.  In my hands, the book almost feels supple, like worn leather.  One look and I see a book well-used and well-loved.  I’m not sure a Kindle can do that.

Month-In-Review: April

I end April with 3 measly posts, including this one.  I guess I didn't have a lot on my mind this month.

• I made it to my 10 app quota again.  I'm like a machine!  The rejections are piling up, too.  I know I should be doing more; why can't I get the chutzpah to do it?
• I turned 32.  Wow.  
• I've discovered that I'm stronger than I think.  While assisted with my feet on the ground, I can manage 8 pull ups.  I started this challenge not expecting even 1 or 2.  I look forward to when I can do an unassisted pull up.  Fitness challenges are fun.

That's about it.  I'm not feeling well.  I contracted a cold the same day I had three fillings at the dentist, which made that particular day quite stellar (the cute dentist not withstanding).   I don't feel like putting much thought into, well, anything right now.

Cheers.

Another Year

I'm getting a sugar buzz just from looking at that cake.  I expect the buzz will be quickly followed by a sugar coma.

Can't imagine a better way to spend my birthday.

Swept Away

I can definitely feel the effects of spring on my energy level.  I am motivated to get up, get moving, and mostly, get cleaning.  Mail that I let pile up on my dresser gets inspected and usually tossed, books and binders are put in their proper places on the shelf or in a filing cabinet, and sometimes I even find myself inspecting the carpet as I cross the room for lint, hair, and other crud that is visible to the naked eye (because believe me, my vacuum isn't all that great, and the stuff I can't see?  I shudder to think.), picking it up on the move.  I don't have an immaculate home, by any means, but it feels brighter and fresher in the spring, and not so wintry dark and oppressive as in the previous months.

Unfortunately, that doesn't always translate to my electronic space.  Files fill the confines of my Documents folder.  I have Bookmarks miles long, and pages of saved emails.  My Reader subscriptions are modest in number, but I'll easily find hundred of updates every day.  I am past due for a virtual deep clean; so why can't I do it?

The Lisa Chronicles, one of my Reader subscriptions, written by a fellow WSU library school graduate, recently explored this concept of "information hoarding", and as I read her post, I nodded in commiseration.  Most of the information I've kept over the years has been library/archives related, because I am (was?) determined to know of the latest trends in the profession.  I have pod casts of conference proceedings from October 2009 saved to in my Inbox, and articles from before I even applied to library school in my Favorites list.  I save everything with the expectation of soon returning to it to read and mull over the issues.  But, I never do.  Those latest trends?  It's very likely that they've been replaced by something trendier now.

I know why I haven't taken the time to read/listen/learn.  It's all research, case studies, and theories with no practical application in my life right now.  It just seems so irrelevant and time-consuming.  And there is so much of it.  Talk about information overload.  Even in a profession where it's central to the field to organize information to facilitate access, it can be too much.  So, that information I've saved just gathers dust bytes. 

I should delete it all.  I have decent searching skills; I can find the information when I need it, rather than letting it take up storage space.  And yet, I don't.  What if I need it tomorrow?  It will save time to click on a link that is already saved.  Okay, but that hasn't happened yet, not in the nearly eighteen months since I graduated.  And that leads me to the real reason why I have not purged myself of the virtual clutter: Fear of giving up.  I have a full time job, and my hunt for new employment hasn't exactly been aggressive, so a year and a half shouldn't seem so long, but there are a few dents in my optimism armor.  And I'm not entirely unhappy in my current situation.  Life has been pretty good lately, even if I am a bit restless.  There is not as much drive as there had been in the first six months out.  I know that and I accept it, even if it worries me a little.  But to delete the articles, blog posts, pod casts, etc., of all thing library/archives makes me feel like I have abandoned all hope.

Yuck.  I just have to find that drive again.  It might not be a bad idea to do that by starting over and cleaning out my Inbox.

Month-In-Review: March

Another rollicking edition of month-in-review!  Ahem. 

Per usual, nothing really extraordinary occurred in March.  Still, some notables:

• I applied to 11 positions, making up for missing my February goal by one.

• Instead of getting all of my entertainment from Netflix streaming, with which I've become obsessed since I figured out my damn router and configured the Blu-ray, I dropped some cash to see a movie in a theater.  What a notion!  It was opening night of Paul.  I just love Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, so seeing them together again since Hot Fuzz was loads of fun.  The flick wasn't directed by Edgar Wright (he did a stellar job with Scott Pilgrim), so it wasn't the full dream team behind Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, but still a hoot.  I really enjoy going to the theater.  It's an experience that you just can't replicate at home, no matter how good your surround sound or large your TV.

• I'm getting the travel itch again.  Not going to happen, what with all of this costly dental work in my future (result of 5 to 10 years between visits and a love of sweets that just keeps growing), but I've been all over the notion of going to Italy, thanks to reruns of Passport to Europe I caught this month.

• Either something is in the water or it's the change of seasons, because I've been a little too upbeat lately.  I try to keep it under control when I'm around others, but I'm perky to the point of self-annoyance.

• And now I'm just making up things to add.

April is nigh.  I turn 32, two days after my brother hits 40, and one day before my sister hits 30.  No milestones for me, but I'll be drinking to them, all three days that week. 

 I'm also setting fitness goals for myself.  I think I've been too easy on myself and need to ramp it up.  Primary goal is to do a pull up.  I just purchased a workout station that will help me train for them at home, just so I don't look like an ass at the gym just hanging there.  Well, I'm sure I always look like an ass.  It's why I'm so endearing.

Cheers!

The First Day of Spring...

...is here.  May all of my days until late September be like this:

And I'm completely going to ignore the forecast of rain and a return to 30-degree weather for later in the week.  I recommend you do the same.