I’m a dreamer

Some heavy thoughts this morning.

I thought of all the people I’ve wronged. The times I acted childishly instead of taking the mature route. The pseudo-flirtations where I was over eager and rushed things.

I have such a short attention span. I’ve come to notice that while trying to get actual work done. Even while reading, I flip to other things, clean, look at other books, look at my phone and boy I am just….not getting much done. It’s a lifestyle born from my addiction to my computer I think…I mean, not that I can blame it for my shortcomings, but gosh it’s so easy to look at a million things at once on the internet. I get frustrated when I don’t have a constant stream on my Tumblr dashboard to occupy me at all times.

My friend thinks about things thoroughly before he does anything. He always considers his answers before telling them to me. So while I was talking a mile a minute with him last night about a recipe, he was still back on the cut of meat I first described.

And that’s when you forget how long a mile actually is. When your car can do it for you in just under a few minutes, you just forget that once upon a time, people couldn’t even leave their towns to meet others.

I’m always dreaming, I’m always really far away. And then I come back to the present and I’m frustrated because my mind has taken me too quickly into the future and time is crawling by comparison. Sigh.

I kept thinking of ways to get closer to my friend. But I’m rushing things again. I don’t want to make the mistake I made last time. But I don’t know how to take things slow either.

 

Jumping Back Into The Fray

Recently, about 3 weeks ago it looks like, judging by my emails to myself, I finished Shadow of a World.  I didn’t even want to look at it by that point. It was the ugly offspring of my hopes and my fevered aspirations of finishing a book. I tried so hard along the way to coax it to life, to make SENSE, and the end product was just…not. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. I could feel it as I wrote every word, getting closer to an ending that didn’t feel true.

So I finished it up. Closed it. Put it on the back burner and started a new novel that while I had been dreaming about for a while, I still felt fresh enough to write.

But SoaW pulled me back. And I’m layering. I outlined the novel as it was and tried to figure out how to tie up the frayed ends. And for once, it feels right.

 

That aside, I find myself unwilling to read romances in YA anymore. I just keep rolling my eyes. Maybe it’s because they’re not done right but idk seriously. I just don’t care for it. I don’t think it’s because I’m bitter towards love. I absolutely ADORED North & South, SCREECHED over Midnight in Austenland and just about DIED re-reading the Goose Girl. All things that are heavy on the romance!!! Okay maybe not the Goose Girl, but the whoooole series has something to do with the MCs getting hitched. Anyway.

I’m not bitter…?

I just cringe when suddenly the girl’s interest is piqued in this boy who is….neither charming nor likeable. Shrug. I liked Divergent but didn’t care for the love aspect. Yea, Divergent was an AWESOME BOOK THOUGH IDK.

And it’s also not because my own feelings have shriveled and died because…:) I have someone who makes me have the warm and fuzzies for possibly the first time in a long time. Too bad it’s never gonna work out because he’s a recluse but lol I like him. Even if he doesn’t trust me at all or share anything about himself. Is that weird? That’s pretty weird. But I’m not into all the gooeyness of sharing and caring either. Declarations of love just strike me as false a lot of the time.

Writing is HARD

In theory, it shouldn’t be. You see stupid stuff on TV and being published all the time. Why should you have to hold yourself to such a high standard when slosh is polished just enough to be published anyway?

I don’t know. That’s the honest, honest truth. If I really wanted to,  I think I could push all my idiotic writings into a simple story and have that published.

But that wouldn’t really satisfy me I guess.

 

Lately, the writing front hasn’t been so great. I like coming home and just vegging out, playing Guild Wars 2, talking to my friends, surfing the internet. Even at work, which was where I was writing most of my stuff, I am not doing much. I started a new manuscript but doubts about whether I can push through again with my WILL even with under-developed characters and plot like I did with SoaW doesn’t appeal to me. I’m just so tired.

And I have to revise my first manuscript because I promised myself that this time I would! Where does this girl who wants so much from life even come from and why am I not her most of the time? I’d rather be a little busy bee clacking away, being productive, doing what I said I’d be doing, but mostly I’m not. I think I’m doing something wrong a lot.

Happiness and Appreciation

It’s been a while since I last posted. In that time I finished up my manuscript, read a lot, and started learning how to sew clothes.

I’m trying to be happy. I’m trying to live in the moment rather than in the future because I want to apply the lessons I learn in my favorite books and a lot of problems stems from not appreciating what you have.

I read somewhere that your brain is evolved to be unhappy. Anticipation does seem more sweet at times. Once you attain your goal it’s on to the next one and you wonder why you don’t have as much as your friend or someone you consider a rival. You think about the people who are luckier than you are and get absolutely green with envy.

I think it’s important to take a second and evaluate what you have. Remember the good more than the bad because they are equally as important.

TV Rots Your Brains Out

Ever heard that? I don’t think I really believed it until I started writing. Okay, so here’s the part where I reveal that I’m a complete and total psycho:

I hear voices.

Not mean or bad voices and most of them sound like me anyway, but nonetheless, most of my stories come from these voices. They’re like little elves, always chipping away at a plot or character or scene etc.

But here’s the odd thing that happens when I watch TV–the voices go away. It’s incredibly frustrating because I LOVE TV but I can’t WRITE when I watch it!!

Why??????

One of the authors I admire most is absolutely ADDICTED to television. I HAVE SHOWS TO WATCH DAMN IT. And no amount of warming up or scene sketching helps. Just…have to not watch TV for another day and just like that, the voices are back.

Normally I do agonize a lot over what I write because I do want some sense of purpose/conflict/soul injected into it. Sometimes it takes a bit of writing to find it, but when I watch TV I flounder and I can’t take my characters where they need to go. You know, where they need to go, not just just their destination. orasitjoiwerjqoirjq

Okay, I’m done. No writing for today, just endless amounts of reading author blogs.