Writing

There are certain parts in a book that, when I start reading or writing, I get shaky, excited, and eager to leap over the words before I even finish reading them.

Two more days until writing time!

The Woman's Place

The last few months living with my sister's family has been such a growing process for me. I've learned a lot, been exposed to new and exciting things, and grown both emotionally and mentally. Living with my brilliant and innovative sister has certainly turned by corn dog-oriented world upside down. I've learned a lot about the fast-food, convienience focus of our world and been introduced to the beauty of vine-ripened tomatoes from your own backyard. There's something about eating fruit, veggies, and meat that's planted, tended, cared for, and harvested by your own hand. The world is definitely changing and I for one have an optimistic view of the pioneering home-grower.

But it hasn't just been food that's changed. I've noticed society's misuse of women and objectifying them to no more than sexual objects and how this is introduced even in the lives of little girls under ten. I find myself stopping when I tell my niece that she looks adorable in her dress but that she really looks like an adventurer on her way to explore new worlds.

And now that NaNoWriMo is only days away and my book is primed for production, I wonder more about the woman's role in a book. As a child I hated reading about female main characters. It was horrible. They always fit cookie-cutter shapes. She was spunky, unable to settle, and set out on an adventure she knew she could handle. She was abused and neglected by family, especially men, and hated her life and vowed to save others from what she suffered. She was lost until she found a man who guided her.

Now that I'm writing those stories I vowed to never have a girl like that. My MC's tend to be male, yes, I will admit that. But the girls that are in there are flashy enough that they don't need a man to solve their problems. But still, I can't help but feel like I'm falling in the female MC rut. Book 1 had a voluptuous FMC who turned into a traitor. Book 2 was better though. FMC who is destined to take the throne of a warrior tribe who takes it upon herself to be MMC's guide and then a FMC who finds herself overthrowing BBG (big bad guy), who is also her master, in order to protect society from corruption.

But Book 3 has female characters and they all have alterior motives. FMC1 from Book 2 is tempted to betray her friends to better her tribe. FMC is destroying everything in her path in order to provide for a family who has met its match in war times. FBBG is hunting MMC in order to achieve glory.

So my question for my readers is this. What is the woman's place in novels? To be the plucky young women, the brooding broad, or something else? What role is sexist in the novel?

The Return to Writing- NaNoWriMo

Next month is November, which for me means writing time. It's NaNoWriMo and I'm totally excited this year. Basically, it's National Novel Writing Month. Novelist around the world take a challenge to write 50k words throughout November. They aren't allowed to start their novel early (even though some do), they can upload their word count daily, and they can pump out an entire book in around 30 days! This is an epic endeavor to say the least.

I competed last year but only made it to 10k words before I realized I just didn't have time. This year will be far more extreme. I haven't written in my books for over a year (excluding little Book Bits) and I've wanted to try my hand at it again. So, on November 1st, I will take up my figurative pen, place it to imaginary paper, and begin literally typing away. My current goal is 2k words a day but this will not happen due to work/life.

Even if I don't win, I will still be completely content if it jump-starts me into writing. I'm so excited that I can barely wait to start writing. There may be a few mentions of my preparations in the coming weeks. Expect lots of mentions during November.

In the famous words of the black guy on Jurassic Parks, "Hold on to your butts."

Writing Blurb

This road that stretches before us is the eternal path.

This road...

This road that leads us into shadowlands of devastation and despair,

That loses us in the fields of heartbreak, hurling us into lives we never chose.

It drags us into clouds of infidelity where the whispers of a massacred God fade into dust.

Through the agony of loss, the throb of love, the emptiness of defeat, this road brings us deeper into a world we never thought we’d reach, we never imagined existed.

But here this road leads, twisting, leaping, and struggling until, like a beast, it bursts from the darkness and charges into the sunlight, glimmering with the dew of new life.

Passed the adversity, beyond the misery, this road races headfirst through the raging storms.

It is no longer a trial. It no longer runs alongside the festering wounds.

This road forgets the scars.

This road forgets the despair.

This road forgets all laws of man.

The laws of a merciful God rule on this road.

On this road where people are reborn, nations are created, and fires are kindled in the hearts of the weak when, as one, we open our eyes and face the howling winds.

The world we could once never imagine is now true on this road.

This road...

This road that stretches before us is the eternal path.

I Choose You, Indecision

I don't think I want to be a teacher.

Actually, I know I don't want to be a teacher.

The sad thing is I knew I didn't want to teach mid-way through my schooling but went ahead with it. I knew I wanted to do something with history and I couldn't imagine anything other than teaching. Now I realize I could have done library or museum studies. But, at the time, I was foolish and thought I would grow out of it.

Now, after having my license and hunting for jobs, I realize I really don't want to be a teacher. I find the entire system corrupt and useless. Children are no longer learning. They are only being taught. But that's a post for another day.

Sometimes I feel like the most useless person in the world. Like a 40-year-old man sitting in his mom's basement playing video games while the world grows up and moves on around him. I starve for comfort, for a sign that I'm not useless. I need to feel like I'm accomplishing something. So what am I going to do with a four year degree that earned me a card-stock diploma?

I don't know the answer to that but I'm sure that sitting around worrying won't help me. I need to keep saving money and doing my best to find a career that I love. Because, in all actuality, what's the point in doing something for the rest of your life, or even a few years, if you don't find yourself passionate about what you do?

Over Two Years

And I'm still in love. I was never much of a romantic but every now and then I'll play a song my significant other and I used to listen to and it brings back all these memories. You'd think after two years I would be over him and ready to move on.

But I'm not because I'm still in love with him. My soul mate is in my past.

Unless life is like a movie and we reconnect one day, I think I might just be single for the rest of my life.

But, honestly, and so, so truthfully, I am okay with that. Because those couple years were as wonderful and magical for me as the two years since then and I would never trade them for anything.