Gearing up for November

Well look at that. Another NaNoWriMo is approaching. I haven't figured out if I am actually going to participate. However, I say that every year and every year I end up writing. Maybe it is a ritual that I have to make myself go through or something. I usually have a story idea by this time. Or at least a character or something. But this year, I don't really have much of anything. I thought about writing some more children's stories. I know that I probably won't hit the 50k mark doing that, but it would get more books in the series written. And having something is better than having nothing.

Honestly, I really don't feel like writing any else. What I mean by that, I don't feel like creating anything new. I feel like I have a ton of stories already done and hashed out in my head. There really isn't any reason to go and start created more from scratch. I should work on what I already have in front of me. I probably should be working on my writing more than I should anyway. I am not sure what happens. I write, write, and write and then things get laid to the side. Laid to side for too long and then they are forgotten or replaced with something new. And then nothing gets finished. I really would like to finish something.

And when I say finish, I mean something polished and presentable. Something that I would not mind others reading and passing on to others. Right now, the "finish" I have is the terrible rough drafts that I bang out during my month of furious noveling. And while that is better than nothing, I feel that I should have something presentable and polished by now.

So what is different this year that makes me think that I will not be able to participate? Well, NaNoWriMo is falling smack into application and interview season for me. I need to be focusing on that and not trying to push out 50k on children's stories. On top of that, I will still be in rotations and who knows if I will have taken my Step 2 by then. Any extra time needs to go to studying for that. But I give myself all these reason why I can't do it, but I know in my heart of hearts I am going to attempt it. I always do. And the thing this is going to push me to do it is someone telling me that it can't be done. I hate when people say that to me and something in me has to prove them wrong. Just absolutely has to. 

I have a long list of children's stories that I want to tell. Something else that got put on the back burner and never looked at for however long. We shall see what this year brings. If I win, great. If I don't, not going to beat myself up over it. It is several more books added to the series that I didn't have before.

Daily Write - Coming of the Silver Dragon

Lightning split the sky, illuminating the darkness for only a few seconds before the landscape slipped back into darkness. The crack and roar of thunder peeled a moments later. However, that sound was not any louder than the pounding of the horses' hooves as they galloped, full speed, on the winding dirt road. It wasn't any louder than blood that was pulsing in his ears or the beat of his heart as it hammered inside of his chest. This was not supposed to happen like this. It was not supposed to be happening at all. If anything happened to his brother... The size of the lump in his throat only grew as panicked thoughts and fearful visions rushed through his mind. He dug his heels into the flanks of his horse, spurring it on faster.

The destination was just visible, the flashes of light showing the dark outline of the manor estate against the cloud covered night sky. The heavens above started to open up as the cold sheets of rains started to fall. He kept going, yelling for his horse to go faster, yelling for the rest of the group to keep up. He could feel it now, stronger as he got closer. It covered his skin like an invisible, oily film. He could sense it in the air he breathed, almost feeling it coating the inside of his mouth, like breathing in an invisible smoke. Never had he felt anything like this before. It scared him. It scared him beyond measure. He had to find Valens. He had to find his brother, before it happened.

They were almost there. He could see the flicker of lights in the windows. He screamed at the top of his lungs. He screamed Valens name over and over, though the rain and thunder were much louder than he could ever be. Then he felt it. A building swell, a dragging in of all energies, a mammoth influx like nothing he had ever felt before. His horse reared up, whinnying and kicking as it did so. All the rest of the horses did the same, refusing to go a step further. It did not matter how many times the riders dug their heels into their flanks, the horses were not moving.

"What's the matter with these stupid animals?"

"Something has them..."

He could feel it, like a giant wave coming to crash down on their heads. He turned and shouted, "Get down!"

The light was blinding, the blast deafening. The glass windows shattered, all of them, shards littering the ground outside. The heavy wooden doors shot of their hinges as if they were nothing but paper be blown about in the wind, splintering under the force of the blast. The stone steps cracked. The very ground shook as the swell erupted, knocking everyone to the ground who wasn't already there. He dug his fingers into the mud underneath him, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. If anything happened to this brother...

He looked up at the house. It was as if something had picked it up and dropped it again. A crack split the building in two and the roof had been peeled clean off. He staggered to his feet, ignoring the muffled ring sounding in his ears. He had to find Valens. His brother had to be okay.  He choked on the dust as he stumbled over the threshold, through the darkness and the rubble. He shouted, but there was no answer. Just the sound of the rain and his own heart. In the flash of the lightning, he saw it. On the wall was a woman, dressed in a long sleeved gown, face disgustedly twisted and staring into the distance. There was a spear through her abdomen and a sword through her throat, both still dripping with blood. He stepped over bodies that littered the floor. A man and a woman both lying in pools of blood next to each other. Another man was pinned to a pillar, arrow going through his neck. The panic was growing, knotting up in his stomach. Where was his brother? He shouted again and again. And thunder was the only thing that answered.

Finally, in the darkness, someone called back.

"Viktor..."

He turned. He wasn't his brother's voice. It was one of the men that came with him, kneeling next to one of the bodies. All he could see was a head of long silver hair. He walked over and looked down. His eyes stung and the knots in his stomach grew tighter.

"No," he said, falling to his knees, "No, no, no..."

There, among the broken stone, at the feet of the woman with the twisted face was Valens. Blood ran from his ears, frothing out of the side of his mouth. His blue eyes were open and stared into nothing. Viktor scooped his brother's lifeless body into his arms, just repeating the same word over and over again. No. No.  The others backed away, hanging their heads. They had been too late.  The transformation was complete.

Late Night Rambles - Revisited

I haven't written a blog in a really long time. Honestly because I can't think of anything to write about. I always feel like my blogs should have something interesting about them that would warrant another person reading it. But I just can't seem to come up with anything like that. So I suppose another ramble will have to suffice.

Life over the past few years has just been a concert of spinning plates for me. It is all a game of how well can you balance everything in life. And it feels like when one plate falls, then rest of them come tumbling down with them. I had everything planned out for how this year was supposed to go. But nothing is really going according to plan. I'm not ready to take my Step 2 exams, while it seems like all my classmates have taken theirs. The whole going on away rotations is not going to be happening for me. (To be honest, I am quite happy that this part of the plan didn't work out. Was not looking forward to going on any externships). I spent an afternoon at the hospital getting an echocardiogram and a weekend wearing a Holter monitor. Nothing like ruling out heart disease before your 30. Plate after plate after plate, just hitting the ground at my feet.

And of course, old habits die hard. When things start going out of control, the first thing I do is to completely retreat. To isolate myself from everyone and everything, because I just can't bear the idea that someone is going to judge me for the mistakes I have made. I want to hide everything that is wrong under a rug, because I have this odd notion that everyone else has it together and I'm the only one that is lost and struggling. And instead of people helping, they will only judge and ask me how did I mess everything up so badly. 

I'm not sure how many times I have to go over this lesson before I finally learn it. Not everyone is out to get me, judge me, belittle me. There are people out there who would help if I would open my mouth and ask for it. Life happens. Plans get disrupted. Humans make mistakes. It's okay. The world is not going to end. So I guess what I am trying to say is that I'm glad there are people around who help me clean up my shattered plates.

Daily Write - Nightmare Begins

The icy water enveloped her like a dark black curtain, swallowing her up, pulling her down into the cold depths. She thrashed and kicked, lungs burning in her chest, but it was useless. The surface was only getting farther and farther away. With open, outstretched fingers, she reached for the stray bits of moonlight that tried to pierce through the inky murkiness of the water. But she could only watch them drift out of her grasp. Panic sunk in its vice like grip as she twisted and writhed against the inevitable. 

Nairi jolted from her sleep, greeted with a jarring headache as she did so. A cold sweat beaded across her forehead and down her neck. How many years had it been since she had had that nightmare? And yet all the familiar fear and panic came seeping back in, settling into their old hewn out crevices of her mind. Nairi slowly sank back down, trying to force back the pounding in her head by squeezing her eyes as tight as she possibly could. The dark room swam about her, walls as liquid as the waves from her nightmare.

"Your head is going to feel like someone is banging on it with a mallet for a while longer," a disembodied voice announced, "If I were you, I would just lie there and not move unless you have to."

Nairi, slowly and carefully, turned her head in the direction of the voice, trying to make the hammering inside her skull any worse. A dim flickering light exposed the fact that she was not by herself. Nairi could only make out shadows of a figure on what looked like a sliding wooden frame covered in a long sheet of parchment.  However, the more Nairi tried to focus, the worse her head throbbed.

"Where am I?" Nairi asked, her hoarse voice barely making its way out of a dry throat.

"My house." was the answer that she got in return.

"Your house?"

"Of course. I bought you. My house was the most logical place to put you. Besides, I'm sure that you have had your fill of sleeping on dungeon floors and sharing living space with rats."

Nairi tried to remember, but everything was so hard to grasp. She remembered a dungeon and guards dressed in chainmail that had seen better days. But again, her aching head made it impossible for Nairi to navigated the melted haze that was her jumbled memory.

"You will remember soon enough," the person responded, almost as if Nairi's struggle to remember was audible, "I do apologize for your current state. I usually measure sleeping droughts impeccably. However, the clothes you were wearing did not show just how skinny you really are."

Nairi closed her eyes, lying still as her head pulsed like a biologic metronome.There was a  quiet scratching noise that could be heard when everything fell silent, like a fountain pen going across parchment. The soft noise outside the walls sounded like rain. Nairi slowly began to realize that she did not recognize her surroundings at all.

"You bought me?"

The words came out of her mouth very slow, as if the concept of such a thing could not be comprehended.

"Probably best if you don't think about it right now."

I create for me

I am feeling very ranty right now, so here it goes.

I remember a conversation that I had a little while ago and I was pretty upset by it. And thinking about it, I am still pretty upset by it. Most likely because this conversation keeps resurfacing, just in different forms. I have been writing for quite a long time. So anyone that knows me is pretty well acquainted with the fact that it is something I do and do with a passion. So there is a person close to me whose knee jerk reaction to just about everything is to assume that you are doing nothing. It doesn't matter what the situation is or how important the situation is. You aren't doing anything about it. It's not just me that this happens to. Everyone gets accused of doing nothing. But it doesn't make it any less annoying.

So the start of the conversation was me being accused of wasting my time when I could be writing. That I probably hadn't written anything in months. I should be writing instead of doing whatever it was that I was supposedly doing. I wanted to bite the person. How dare they?! I had been writing constantly! Just because I hadn't been talking about it, don't just come at me, telling me that I have been doing nothing. Then came the lame excuse of "Well how was I suppose to know?" How about asking? That tends to work when you want to know information.

The continuation of this conversation falls into the "why aren't your writing stuff that could be published?" category. I tend to write things that don't fall into the publishing category, like short fan fics or random clippets of things that are running around in my head that don't really have a place in a story. Well not yet anyway. But I don't feel like I'm wasting my time with it. If anything, I am making my writing better by seeing what works and what doesn't. And while the end goal is getting my name on a cover of a book that other people read, that isn't always my drive. I create stories because I want to. Because I like putting my thoughts down on paper. Not everything I do has to be driven by monetary return. I think the statement that burned me here was, "Well you need to stop messing around and hurry up and get published." Seriously? This is what you want to say to me?

It's like this person believes I can just walk into a some magic publishing warehouse, add my book to the pile, and say "Get that on the shelves for me. Thanks, you're such a doll.". Again, this person is going to make me bite them.

And the conversation rounds the bend with the constant talk of me writing and finally getting a novel done. And not encouragement, no, why would they ever do that? It's those backhanded comments. I was talking about bettering my computer in order to play video games on it. The response I get, "Well, I thought you would be using your spare time to write, so you can publish your book." Really? You and I are about to stop speaking. Keep messing with me. And here is what really gets a rise out of me. This person is supposed to be writing as well; the same as me. But do they have anything done? Nope! And yet they think they can give me a whole bunch of advice on what I'm supposed to be doing. Next time I hear this noise, I am going to tell them I will show them my book if they show me theirs.

I create because I want to. I write because I want to. And yes, there are times when I am slacking and procrastinating. But seriously, writing is my hobby and I will enjoy it. I am not working on anyone else's schedule. I don't care if you think I should have a dozen books published by now or you think I am wasting time working on frivolous pieces that aren't going to amount to anything. I will do what I want. I don't create for you. I create for me.

Now back to our friendly programming already in progress!

Juicing - Tapping out

So yeah, I didn't make it to day 3. Fought off the food cravings for as long as possible, but gave in and ate. I suppose I can be a bit proud of myself. I went two full days without any solid food. And my entire fridge is filled produce, so I will be eating on that instead of eating fast food for a while.

I will most likely be trying this again the near future. Maybe try to go for four days next time instead and use 10 days as the big celebratory goal. I am still going to be using my juicer, just not solely. But I have to say, even though it was only two days, I did like what I saw on the scale this morning. Definitely going to be working hard to keep pushing that number down.

I want to get down on myself for not being able to hang on longer, but that is not really going to help at all. I just keep telling myself that I will do better next time. And for now, just be proud that you even undertook this whole thing at all. I could have been eating pizza and Chinese. Instead, I chose this. It counts.

Juicing - Day 2

So, I have officially gotten the first day of this Juice Quest (thanks to my sister for that name) under my belt. For the most part it wasn't bad, until night came. It seemed all I could think about was what I would have been making for dinner. I found that my brain seems to equate dinner with something salty. I think I am going to have to look up some juices that have spices or something in them. It would probably help curb some of the craving feelings that happen late at night. I did cheat. I had water with a bouillon cube before going to bed last night. My goodness, it was so satisfying. Hence the reason I think I need to find something that has some spice in it. I am not really after the food, I just wanted something that wasn't sweet tasting.

So my first day of this quest started out with my juicer breaking. Yes, I was in the  middle of making my Mean Green Juice and the thing conked out. I wasn't surprised. It was a pretty cheap machine to begin with and I hadn't really used it for much aside from juicing small things, like grapes. So I went and bought a new one. I have to say, the sound of this thing scares the crap out of me every time I turn it on. But I am slowly falling in love with it.

For breakfast this morning, I had something called the Rise and Shine. It is carrots and oranges. It was absolutely delicious. I would drink this for breakfast even if I wasn't doing this. I want to go home and make this for my family so they can try it out. In case you want to make it for yourself...

4 carrots

2 navel oranges

That's it. Throw them in the juicer and love all of it. I thought I would be crazily craving food at this point, but honestly, I'm not. I drink my juice, drink my water and then go on about my day. I picked the best time to do this, because right now I'm hanging out at home and I don't have to encounter food. It would probably be harder if I were at school or hanging out with friends, because any time we have to ourselves, we have to eat. And my friends know the best places to eat.

I remember distinctly I was out at the movies with my friends last year. After the movie, we wanted to go out and eat. One of the people in our group said no. After some prodding, he let us know that he wasn't eating any solid foods and that he was just drinking juice and water. We all looked at him like he was crazy. Why would anyone want to do that to themselves willingly? We told him good luck with his insanity, we were going to get dinner. Never thought that I would be following in his foot steps a year later. I am not sure if I would have been able to say no. Especially if it was my favorite place to eat out. Not really going to test that theory any time soon.

So onwards with Day 2!