No Shame--Owning My Genre

Writing, and, research, and reading, and...bah.  Can't get it to fit.  Was going for a these are a few of my favorite things vibe but I couldn't figure out what else I'd really done this weekend that would fit :)  I don't know if I ever mentioned that I have a book blog!  It's why it looks like I've gone days without posting, when actually I have MANY MANY MANY on the other blog.  The "novel I will be writing" is going to be a YA fantasy/paranormal/sci-fi/fairy tale type story.  Partly because that's what I read and so it's what I know.  Partly because I think that's such a pivotal age.  Partly because I'm a big, fat nerd and LOVE that genre.  I know that may be surprising to some, however, you're talking to a Doctor Who watching,World of Warcraft playing, young adult PNR reading girl, and that's just for starters! ( Seriously, I need a shirt that says NERD. *hint to hubby for Xmas present*) In the infamous words of Popeye, I yam what I yam!  Sooo from now on, most of my posts will be at www.puttingpentopage.com , at least the ones pertaining specifically to the writing process and NaNo, and YA books that I've read/reviewed,  other stuff will be put on here.  Unless my personal tech support can figure out a way to link the two blogs.  So pop on over to the other blog and see what's what!  Not sure how long this maintaining 2 blogs thing will last ;)

The Three D's--Distraction, Discouragement, Doubt

I did not write yesterday.  Not a bit.  Unless you count texts and twitter responses.  One kiddo was out of school, the other came home sick and I was exhausted from leading the choir on Sunday.  So there was no trip to the gym, and no writing time at Starbucks, and no hiding out away from the kids anywhere in the apartment.  I did NOT like it.  I felt blah throughout the day.  I did a book study a couple years ago that talked about "The Three D's".  It said these are the three things that are going to hinder you from doing what God has called you to do.  Two of the D's, doubt and discouragement, have been pretty well taken care of the last few days.  I've been very fortunate to have had people speak positively about me writing, and the changes they have seen in me, because of what I am now doing.  Distraction, however, has been rearing it's ugly head.  One thing after another has thrown me out of the routine I had established to keep me on the writing path.  Distraction is the one that starts you down the slippery of slope of not doing.  I could very easily see myself letting the distraction get to me and keep me from doing my daily allotted bit of writing.  Then, having not written for days, how easily that could turn into a deep discouragement, which could then flip easily into doubt.  What I find so surprising is how much I don't what that to happen.  I didn't expect in such a short period of time to be so invested.  I'm begging for perseverance.  If this is what I am supposed to do, then I am praying that I can do it even through the distractions, in spite of the distractions, because of the distractions. :)

Reflections I

Getting back into writing for the first time in decades (?) has certainly had me thinking about the times in my life where it was a major focus. I now wish I had saved some copies of old writings instead of throwing them all away when I moved out of my parents' house. We used to do this thing in my English class called Writer's Studio. We would first do rough drafts in our spirals/3 ring binders, that's right-pen to paper, and then have time to type them into the computer and print them out. My notebook was ALWAYS a disaster. Papers torn out of spirals in no particular order. Multiple copies of the same poem. It was an ink-stained mess! During one of our free writing (as in not directed by way of writing topic) days I was *ahem* inspired by the neatness of my friend's studio. This is the only thing I wrote that I can remember. I'd edit it for a modern twist but not a whole lot has really changed. Here it is with bizarre formatting thrown in per my style back then:

Cluttered

I sit at my desk with a sausage shaped spine,

my studio's cluttered and so is my mind.

Typed papers, garbage and final copies I find,

a cluttered desk; a cluttered mind.

I flip through the papers from the front to the back,

the pages of my story aren't in order

Oh, what a wreck.

I look around and what's this I see? About the person sitting next to me

Their desk is empty, now what a find,

Could an empty desk mean an empty mind?

There it is, an original Heather Nesmith from 1988 when I was in the 6th grade. I sure hope I've gotten better with age ;)