There Are Times

There are times

when the phone rings late

and I hear the tears

before I know anything else

When all I know is a friend’s hurt

and with her I ache

a chance lost

a hope drowned

a truth buried

With her I cry

wishing somehow

to take the weight away

to stem the bleeding

to apply the balm

But my temper flares

when I hear how she was hurt

and I’m ready for war

like a mother bear

God help me

I need to remember

You are in control

You offer grace

to those who don’t deserve it

including me

And I look back at my friend

my sister for years

covered with fresh and dried tears

and inside I break

and with her I weep

The night drags dark

but together we somehow know

we somehow still hope

the night will end

a new dawn will shine

and we count the hours

until then.

Public Domain Image

 

I Will Have It

Not that long ago I would walk into my room and a wordless feeling of despair would settle over me. This happened so often and for so long that eventually I distanced myself from the despair just to get from one side to the other, usually settling on my bed, my nest, to go to sleep or to get online and ignore the soul-sucking piles of junk and paper that littered everything.

But in the last week and especially the last couple of days I walk into my room and a triumphantly joyous thought voices itself: I will have it.

I will have my room back. I will have a clean, safe, soothing, environment. I will have things nicely decorated. I will have my pretty daybed up in place of my current bed (nothing wrong with it, honestly, but it doesn't provide the function that I want, and also, it's not mine).

Remember how it was such a big deal to have my reading nook clean and always ready? The rocking chair, the lamp, the bookshelf where I can keep library books. All the wonderful coziness tied to that. And I met my deadline, and I had put the work in it, and it was mine, all mine. (I know I still owe you pictures, but it's not tidy right now.) Well, now I'm doing that (without a strict deadline) for the entirety of my room. For too long I've let my possessions own me; I'm a self-proclaimed border hoarder. (sigh)

I've been cleaning, mostly sorting and shuffling things and throwing out notebooks and other paper from college classes. I've been opening up floor space (let me tell you, hope and refreshment are found in an empty floor!), finding things I'd forgotten but want to keep, uncovering my instruments (with renewed vigor to learn and practice), sorting my crafting supplies. Before that I was going through my closet, jewelry, and makeup. I still have some ground to (un)cover, but I've made noticeable progress. And any time I stop to think for one second about what I'm trying to accomplish, and basically every time I enter my room, I am encouraged.

I expect I'll always fight the tendency to keep everything (yes, everything, including, to my embarrassment, price tags from clothes bought an undetermined amount of time ago). But I intend to fight it from now on. I've picked a battle worth the effort, and I'm going to win this war.

 
I'm shaping my life into what I want it to be. And it starts here, with my room.

Loud Hollow

The pressing silence.

Sometimes, after an hour or so of excitement I want nothing more than a little solitary quiet time. Usually with music playing quietly (or maybe something bouncy to get me dancing), but sometimes, rare times I prefer no music, no major background noise except maybe for a clock (why is the shifting of the seconds hand soothing?).

And sometimes after an hour or so of excitement, I can't stand to slow down and be quiet. The loud hum of the refrigerator is the only sound. I might as well be all alone in this house. And nothing of particular excitement or interaction is going on in the social media (Facebook) realm. I tried reading blogs, but just couldn't settle on anything to peruse. I thought about working on one of my stories, but I think my head (and heart) doesn't want to work that hard right now.

I need to recharge, but I don't want to be alone. But I'm not playing on Facebook or leaving comments on blogs. I suppose there is the phone, but it's hard to have companionable silence on an audio-only communication device.

The house is too quiet. It feels empty and dark (well, most of the lights are off), which makes me feel empty even though I just finished my pizza and tea.

I think what I feel right now is sad, but I can't think of a reason for it. I know I'm tired. A nap has sounded beautiful all day, and the one I got was kinda nice (though I don't think my feet ever warmed up, sigh).

I want to be fixed. But there's nothing wrong with me.

I guess maybe I feel lonely. Isolated. I just had some fun with some kids who are full of energy and excitement for life. I wish I hadn't let things beat me down so much over the years so that I wouldn't frequent this lonely little hollow. I wish I shared the kids' optimism, owning it like I used to when I was younger. I wish I hadn't misplaced my copy of Tangled. That would set me to rights. Though it is a romance, and I wish I wasn't single. But then, I also enjoy being single. Another conundrum.

Seems like this moment is filled with conundrums.


Thankfully, Pandora just kicked in.



*Post publishing addition: as soon as I hit the "Publish" button, "Just Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Bublé came on my Pandora station.
Now that's timing.

The Hunger Games

www.checkthefilm.com

 May The Odds...

The Hunger Games. A popular book, trilogy, and now movie. I have a lot of thoughts on the books, and I'm still somewhat processing the movie. It's a big story. And it's also not. What makes it great? What makes it not? And what do we do with that?

I have no idea what to tell you to do with the books, movie, or overall story. I don't know what to do with it myself. All I can do is share some of my mixed thoughts.

For starters, it's brilliant. No, really. The books, in first-person point of view, show us an intimate, in-depth look at a world that feels like the Great Depression + nuclear war aftereffects + ruling politics gone terribly, terribly wrong. And since it's in first person, we get just about every single thought and feeling that Katniss experiences. (I even used it in a paper I recently re-found as a useful book for examining the reality of facing one's own death.) And the use of present tense amplifies the immediacy and intensity of every. single. thing.

And the movie is a pretty great adaption of the story from the print media to audio/visual media. The actors portrayed their characters spot on. The additional points of view of the gamemakers, President Snow, and Rue's district fleshes out the world with things that wouldn't have translated from the book otherwise. The core conflict of the games is lived out. The subtext conflict of fighting corruption is shown a little more than in the book.

Some things in the movie were a little weird, like the crossover of worlds when Katniss has delusions from the Tracker Jacker venom. And, honestly I was really looking forward to the visual portrayal of Katniss' costumes, Cinna's masterpieces...and was disappointed. They were nice, but for me a little of a let down. And we didn't get to see Haymitch's character arc as clearly, even though we saw him working behind the scenes (a nice touch). But all in all, those things 1) aren't enough to detract from the movie as a whole and 2) are a part of the media.

It's Good, Or Is It?

It's a compelling story. Katniss obviously has a lot of determination and bravery. Peeta carries his compassion with him into the arena. Rue and Prim motivate Katniss to action. Haymitch...well, Haymitch is one of my favorite characters, sweetheart. He actually has a defined arc of character growth. The worlds are clearly distinct, and the complications are simple enough to follow while still making things interesting and hard for the characters. So what's the problem? What bothers me about the book and movie?

1.       As much as the characters distaste the concept of the Hunger Games to begin with, they follow through with it, not even really trying to stem the symptoms, much less trying to stop the problem.
2.       It's a rather draining read or viewing experience.
3.       Katniss' defiance is mostly accidental.
4.       And there is a distinct lack of hope. Throughout. Even the happy ending (in the book) has immediate hopelessness and loss to it. (The movie's happy ending felt like, "Yes, we 'won.' But it wasn't enough.")

And that last one, even more than the others individually, gives me pause. Put these all together, and by the end of the story, whether book or movie, I feel hollow, even dirty. I feel like I have been torn down just about as much as Katniss has been. But it's not because I've literally gone through everything she has, and it's not because I relate with her 100%. I like her okay, and I understand a degree of where she's coming from, her motivations, and her actions. But I'm very different from her and get frustrated along the way.

What Kind of Message?

It's not a happy book. Not every book has to be happy; I get that. But the "no hope" laced throughout and coloring the ending is, I think, damaging to people. People need hope. It's damaging to me. I need hope in order to get up in the morning. This work of fiction tends to sap it from me, translating into real life where I interact with real people, oozing a loss and hopelessness through my actions by taking root in my thoughts and feelings.

What is the message of The Hunger Games? What do you take away from it? Can you see how things could be better (and if you can, why couldn't/didn't the author?)? Is it a warning story? Watch out, or this will happen to our world (it is, after all, futuristic United States of America). Is that Suzanne Collins' goal? Is that enough?

Now we have to ask what we do with the story. It does get us to think, I'll give it that. Where do our thoughts take us?

And Happy Hunger Games

There are many more things I could say about The Hunger Games. Things I like, and things that concern me. And I could continue on into Catching Fire and Mockingjay. But for now, I think this is plenty.

Do you have a reply for my concerns? What are your thoughts on The Hunger Games, both book and movie?

"You don't know anything."

Have you ever been told that, because of your field of study, you don't know anything? Or maybe you don't have a specific area of expertise so people think you know nothing. The line may have been delivered nonchalantly, or the speaker may have seemed intent to knock you down a notch. Either way, the message was delivered.

I've been told that, too. I usually think about disagreeing but decide to go along with the speaker in order to avoid an argument. Love conflict in fiction; hate it in real life.

But the statement remains inaccurate.

Using my own field of study, English and writing, I can tell you what I do know and how much is open to me to learn about.

As a writer, I have to know how to use the language I write in. I use knowledge about English grammar and punctuation (and slang, phrasing, word choices, et cetera) to construct my sentences when I'm writing. Often when I'm editing, that knowledge helps me see problems and areas of confusion and choose how to correct the issue. I have to know when and how to end a sentence and paragraph and how to begin new ones...and how to string them together (something I sometimes have fun ignoring on my blog). I need to know the rules of English in order to avoid confusion and communicate clearly, either by following the rules or by bending them.

Now, fiction writing. Not a very useful field, right? I don't know a thing about science or economics or architecture or bowling alleys or underwater basket weaving. Right? And I certainly, stuck in my fictitious realms, don't know anything regarding how the real world works. Not a single thing. Right? Of course right.

Um.. No, that is inaccurate.

As a world creator, I have to know at least a little bit about a lot of real things. Including science, economics, architecture, and possibly even bowling alleys and underwater basket weaving. Also, how people relate, different personalities, skills and trades, weapons and fighting, religion, politics, terrain, travel, music, culture, and more. Essentially, the world is my field of study.

One of the reasons why I love being a fiction writer is because I get to know about tons of things without focusing too much or too long on one thing. Call it A.D.D., call it the inability to settle down, call it geekiness, call it being a homeschooler (not the same thing as a geek), call it curiosity, call it a lack of depth. Whatever you want to call it, I love it. I don't need to be a scientist or an architect or a professional kegler or a scuba weaver.

Other people can be those things. That's fine. I say more power to them. It's just not for me. That doesn't mean that I know nothing, and that's not to say they only know about their specialty to the exclusion of the rest of the world.

"You don't know anything" is a sadly arrogant statement. It shrinks God's vast creation and diminishes the one spoken to simply because the speaker focuses on a different area of expertise.

Refocus and Weekend of Until Next Time

Short and sweet. I've gotten a little off track in my thinking about this blog. It doesn't have to be just about writing. It's about all aspects of life, specifically what I experience, express, and learn. And those things are shared through the unique medium of story, whether fictional or not, creative writing or just the facts, ma'am. I've forgotten this and got overly stressed about reaching a weekly "quota" of posts or figured I had to hit the mark with something that's "writerly."

What I've forgotten is I'm not the author of my own story. Sure I take actions, and I am a character, but I would need too many drafts to get it right if all the plotting and cast and setting and pacing and...everything...were up to me. I just have to determine my goal, and I can change it as I need to. So, new goal: don't stress, enjoy the adventure that is life, take it as it comes, try not to lose sight of the big picture, try not to take over the big picture.

In light of that, this weekend is kind of going to stink. My brother and sister in law are packing it all up and moving. I think we've gotten pretty close in the last couple years or so. We're bound by blood relation, but also by camaraderie and friendship. Now, for one year, that bond will have to be held by Facebook, email, and gmail video chat. It just won't be the same as the sanctuary Jessie always offered me to rest in her comfortable abode when I want to cry and Lucy vies for my attention. ::sigh::  In a way, it will be one less group to help, but I think their presence helped me as much as I helped them with little things like the few times I babysat or was chauffeur. And that sanctuary that I used more than once, that to me was desperately needed and priceless.

My dear Norman and Jessie and Lucy, I'm going to miss you, no two ways about it.

...Until next time...

Behind the Goal

A story begins with two things.  It needs four or six things (depending on how you like to count).
1) A protagonist,
2) an antagonist (who can be a villian),
3) directly conflicting goals between the two characters,
4) and motivation for them both.
Here's why.

I recently wrote a short story that went through a lot of revamping and rethinking before I got very far. My main character, Valerie, started out as a bounty hunter almost in a corner, choosing to fight instead of run. But she didn't care if she lived beyond the battle.

Um... No.

That is a weak, inactive protagonist. Not interesting to read (and a pain to write if you want to make the story go anywhere). My flaw was pointed out to me (I'm looking forward to the day I catch on quicker—or just stop making this error), and I rethought.

Okay, so Valerie wasn't who I thought she was. So who was she?

She needed a goal, yes, but she had that. Survival. It just wasn't strong enough. But wait, survival can be a very strong goal. What was missing? Motivation. She needed a reason to want to live. She needed a reason to want to take out the man hunting her.

This was my "Aha" moment. Or, if you prefer.

She needed a motivation behind her goal. That's not something I've heard explained much in my writing classes—at least, not in that wording. But it's one of the most necessary aspects of a protagonist, or any developed character. The why behind the what. And the answer? It had to do with a relationship. Relationships are always on the line in a story, the only question is which one. Then why that one. And, of course, how. Once you answer those questions, you're rolling.

I answered them. I answered the why she needed to survive with two relationships. A boyfriend. And his daughter. (It just became more interesting in your imagination, didn't it?) The answer to why those two relationships and how they're on the line has to do with the antagonist's goal and motivation. See how it all ties together? Before my eyes (...okay, twas all in my planning head) the story was building in strength. I had a goal with motivation for my protagonist and had further developed the direct conflict of goals with my antagonist/villian.

Now the story had heart. There was purpose to Valerie's actions. She had a reason to care enough to pursue her goal, and pursue it she did. Ta da.

So, a story needs...
1) a protagonist
2) with a [strong] goal
3) that's backed up by [deep] motivation,
4) and an antagonist/villian
5) with a [strong] opposing goal
6) that is also backed up by [deep] motivation.
Now you know why.