i can't remember if i posted under that title before... if i did, forgive me for being entirely uncreative. if i didn't, then fuck you for jumping to conclusions.
here's the thing. i've been working pretty hard the last couple of weeks, i've had deadlines approach and recieved some new assignments with more deadlines. i haven't had the mental energy to write very much. i've written a bit, enough to keep me thinking about the characters and what's going to happen next, but not as much as i'd like. i'm behind on my weekly submissions because the work has been full time and then some.
here's the other thing. i just got offered a data entry job with a government branch. it's technically classified as research, but it's data entry and document coding. the job will suck. but it might get my foot in the door for actual real research jobs. my current job is about to come to an end, though the possibility of getting the occasional scrap exists. the new job would be from 8:30-5:00 in downtown vancouver. the pay would be about 4,000/month. there are pros: my foot gets in the door with the research gig, the pay is good, there's work for the forseeable future. there are also cons: i would be gone for twelve hours because of the commute, i lose any chance to do other research jobs cause i won't have time. and the biggest con of all: no time to write The Book. my experince of the last several weeks has shown me that i can't write and work full time at the same time.
so i have to ask myself at this point: how important is this dream? is it stupid? is it a waste of time, and the possiblity of starting an adult future with chris? how much do i want to finish the book and why? do i take a haitus or do i refuse the job and continue writing? will this hurt my chances of getting a job in the future? do i hope for the best and prepare for the worst? does taking the job preclude the possiblity of writing The Book? does writing The Book constitute an act of childish hope? good lord. what will happen to me, to my psyche, if i don't finish The Book because i took a job? and what will happen to me, to my psyche, if i don't take the job, i finish The Book, and chris and i are forced to eke out an existence without anything to look forward to because i squandered our future on the barest hint of an idea of what i wanted to be?
i need some answers, and it pisses me off that they are never really very easy to obtain. and they are usually unsatisfactory in some major way. i am going to have to sacrifice something. if it were just me, i wouldn't worry about it. i'd throw caution to the wind and write the goddamned book. but it's not just me, and i don't want to end up sacrificing chris's well-being for my own. i fucking hate making decisions like this. hate. it.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Friday, September 08, 2006
laughter
**too much information warning: if reading corny, lovey-dovey stuff makes you squeamish, please skip the first paragraph and proceed to the second... or maybe skip the whole post**
two nights ago, i laid in bed and cried. i wasn't crying because i was sad or because i was angry or because i was sexually frustrated. no. i was crying because i love chris so much that it fills me up and spills out. sometimes this overflow takes the form of hysterical giggling, sometimes it takes the form of tears. my tears (oh, god, i think i am making myself nauseous with this stuff, but alas, the story needs to be told) that night were fueld by a mental picture that i couldn't erase from my head or my heart; it just kept replaying over and over again. chris was sitting on our moldy green couch, and he was laughing. yeah, that's it. that's all. but bear with me! this is not some hysterial, overly-romantic rambling about how very very cuuuuute my boyfriend is when he laughs. this is a hysterical, overly-romantic rambling about the nature of laughter itself.
chris's laughter is unique in my world. and i don't use that world lightly; i recognize that unique means singular, not just weird or strange or a little bit different but not really that different. what makes his so special? well, i don't want to get to the climax before you've had some foreplay, so i'll save that for later.
how often do you really listen to people laugh? i mean, we hear it, we hear it all the time, but how often to we really listen? what does laughter have to say? what does it mean? i have one friend who only chuckles quietly under his breath, never letting loose with a laugh. another friend laughs, really laughs, when someone has put down another person; he only laughs at other people's discomfort or awkwardness or social retardation. another friend laughs at his own jokes, never anyone else's. when you really listen, you can hear in laughter a multitude of emotions: sarcasm, cycnicism, derision, happiness, amusement, embarassment, hysterics. laughter is like a hidden language, or maybe a dead language, one that we use to communicate but is rarely understood or correctly interpreted. the next time you hear someone laugh, turn on your universal translator and listen for that language. do you hear discomfort under the peals? cyncism under the snorts? sexual attraction under the giggles?
since i've never been one for a whole lot of foreplay, let's get to the important part. what makes chris's laughter unique is that, unlike many others, and i would argue unlike all others, his laughter does not contain one iota of anything negative, his language is easily understood. when he laughs, the only things i hear are enjoyment, amusement, and genuine delight. i want to say that his is like the laughter of a child, but even children sometimes laugh at other people's misfortune, even their tinkling laughter can contain a hint of dislike. when chris laughs, his eyes crinkle up and he flashes teeth all the way back to his molars, and if you really freaking listen you hear nothing but pure joy.
i wish i could laugh like that, but since i can't, i'm just happy to be able to inspire it.
two nights ago, i laid in bed and cried. i wasn't crying because i was sad or because i was angry or because i was sexually frustrated. no. i was crying because i love chris so much that it fills me up and spills out. sometimes this overflow takes the form of hysterical giggling, sometimes it takes the form of tears. my tears (oh, god, i think i am making myself nauseous with this stuff, but alas, the story needs to be told) that night were fueld by a mental picture that i couldn't erase from my head or my heart; it just kept replaying over and over again. chris was sitting on our moldy green couch, and he was laughing. yeah, that's it. that's all. but bear with me! this is not some hysterial, overly-romantic rambling about how very very cuuuuute my boyfriend is when he laughs. this is a hysterical, overly-romantic rambling about the nature of laughter itself.
chris's laughter is unique in my world. and i don't use that world lightly; i recognize that unique means singular, not just weird or strange or a little bit different but not really that different. what makes his so special? well, i don't want to get to the climax before you've had some foreplay, so i'll save that for later.
how often do you really listen to people laugh? i mean, we hear it, we hear it all the time, but how often to we really listen? what does laughter have to say? what does it mean? i have one friend who only chuckles quietly under his breath, never letting loose with a laugh. another friend laughs, really laughs, when someone has put down another person; he only laughs at other people's discomfort or awkwardness or social retardation. another friend laughs at his own jokes, never anyone else's. when you really listen, you can hear in laughter a multitude of emotions: sarcasm, cycnicism, derision, happiness, amusement, embarassment, hysterics. laughter is like a hidden language, or maybe a dead language, one that we use to communicate but is rarely understood or correctly interpreted. the next time you hear someone laugh, turn on your universal translator and listen for that language. do you hear discomfort under the peals? cyncism under the snorts? sexual attraction under the giggles?
since i've never been one for a whole lot of foreplay, let's get to the important part. what makes chris's laughter unique is that, unlike many others, and i would argue unlike all others, his laughter does not contain one iota of anything negative, his language is easily understood. when he laughs, the only things i hear are enjoyment, amusement, and genuine delight. i want to say that his is like the laughter of a child, but even children sometimes laugh at other people's misfortune, even their tinkling laughter can contain a hint of dislike. when chris laughs, his eyes crinkle up and he flashes teeth all the way back to his molars, and if you really freaking listen you hear nothing but pure joy.
i wish i could laugh like that, but since i can't, i'm just happy to be able to inspire it.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
oh, bother
i'm going to completely contradict my last post by saying that writing absolutely freaking sucks. for the last week, i have been struggling with the same scene, writing and rewriting, more than thirty pages now, trying to get my characters from point a to point b. this is a new one for me. i have had writer's block before, but it's been because i've convinced myself how bad my ideas are. this time, it stems from having too many possibilities. i remain confident in my story, my plot, my people. i just don't know how to get around this road block.
i've tried action and inaction, talking and not talking, dealing with one subplot or another. none of it seems right. none of it flows like my last chapter did, which practically wrote itself. or the chapter before that, or the chapter before that. i think i am going to have to learn a new way of writing to fill gaps like this, but i don't know what that way is!
i thought that blogging about it might help, but it hasn't so far. i thought that just sitting down and forcing it would help, but it hasn't so far -- it's just kept me from my other work, the work i get paid for that is due in a little over a week. i turn on music, i turn off music. i turn on the tv, i turn off the tv. i pull out some hair. and the more i talk about it and think about it, the more frustrated i get. so i'm just gonna post this, mess that it is... otherwise, i'll stroke out and the blog's new beginning will be its end.
i've tried action and inaction, talking and not talking, dealing with one subplot or another. none of it seems right. none of it flows like my last chapter did, which practically wrote itself. or the chapter before that, or the chapter before that. i think i am going to have to learn a new way of writing to fill gaps like this, but i don't know what that way is!
i thought that blogging about it might help, but it hasn't so far. i thought that just sitting down and forcing it would help, but it hasn't so far -- it's just kept me from my other work, the work i get paid for that is due in a little over a week. i turn on music, i turn off music. i turn on the tv, i turn off the tv. i pull out some hair. and the more i talk about it and think about it, the more frustrated i get. so i'm just gonna post this, mess that it is... otherwise, i'll stroke out and the blog's new beginning will be its end.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
new look, new purpose... still too lazy to capitalize proper nouns
greetings. when i first created this blog (and it really wasn't much of a creative act -- it involved choosing a template from blogger and typing some words in a text box) it was supposed to be a place for me to write and be creative and ruminate upon all the cliches that my daddy always told me: don't let anyone steal your joy, everything happens for a reason, wish in one hand shit in the other and see which one fills up faster... he reiterated each of those classic gems with an almost frightening frequency because he believed in their truth and wisdom.
recently, for possibly the first time in my life, instead of pondering, ponificating, analyzing or agonizing, i actually started to do something. around june-ish, i initiated several large changes in my life. first, i quit my old job. i had great coworkers... and, well, that was the only thing i liked about it, really. the work was very stressful and very unsatisfying, and i realized the other day when i didn't freak out about some news that would have sent me into a screaming rage six months ago that the stress of that job went mostly unacknowledged. nevertheless, it had been killing me emotionally and spiritually, and if i hadn't left when i did, i would have gone over to the dark side of the force. second, i got a new job, doing social science research from home. it pays much better than my old job, and the commute is much shorter. ha. it isn't necessarily steady, and i almost had a panic attack when i realized that i was TURNING INTO MY FATHER, who never had steady work and counted himself in the ranks of the self-employed, otherwise known as contract workers. gulp. but alas, the job allows me to work less hours and get the same (or more) money as my previous one, which leads me to waystation number three on my Journey Toward a Fulfilling Life. the new job has given me the time and mental freedom and energy to start Writing a Book. i have about seventy pages so far. i was lucky enough to find a person who is also Writing a Book willing to share her wonderful work with me, and to keep me on track by exchanging at least ten pages a week of new material. ten pages isn't a lot, but it really is when you are working a near full-time job and trying to maintain a romantic relationship. perspective: if i keep up this pace, i will have a draft completed by valentine's day. i am finally doing something that is meaningful to me. it gives me pleasure. it makes me happy in ways that i never imagined.
and so, i am reshaping the content of this blog. instead of thinking about my dad's cliches, i am living them. it is hard to believe that everything doesn't happen for a reason when i applied for and got a job that gives me the time and money to write. it's hard to think that everything doesn't happen for a reason when through that job, i met a writing partner who helps me every day. it's hard for anyone to steal my joy now that i am doing something i am proud of. so many years of thinking about these things and how to achieve them, and all it took was doing something i really really wanted to do.
from now on, this web log is about books and writing, my two favorite things. and sometimes chris. but of course, he is inextricable from all of it because of his support and his inspiration. right now, i am thinking that many of my posts will be book reviews, ruminations about the writing process and flaky, floaty, shallowly deep ideas that pop into my head but don't really fit into the Book. i hope those of you who still read this blog like the changes.
recently, for possibly the first time in my life, instead of pondering, ponificating, analyzing or agonizing, i actually started to do something. around june-ish, i initiated several large changes in my life. first, i quit my old job. i had great coworkers... and, well, that was the only thing i liked about it, really. the work was very stressful and very unsatisfying, and i realized the other day when i didn't freak out about some news that would have sent me into a screaming rage six months ago that the stress of that job went mostly unacknowledged. nevertheless, it had been killing me emotionally and spiritually, and if i hadn't left when i did, i would have gone over to the dark side of the force. second, i got a new job, doing social science research from home. it pays much better than my old job, and the commute is much shorter. ha. it isn't necessarily steady, and i almost had a panic attack when i realized that i was TURNING INTO MY FATHER, who never had steady work and counted himself in the ranks of the self-employed, otherwise known as contract workers. gulp. but alas, the job allows me to work less hours and get the same (or more) money as my previous one, which leads me to waystation number three on my Journey Toward a Fulfilling Life. the new job has given me the time and mental freedom and energy to start Writing a Book. i have about seventy pages so far. i was lucky enough to find a person who is also Writing a Book willing to share her wonderful work with me, and to keep me on track by exchanging at least ten pages a week of new material. ten pages isn't a lot, but it really is when you are working a near full-time job and trying to maintain a romantic relationship. perspective: if i keep up this pace, i will have a draft completed by valentine's day. i am finally doing something that is meaningful to me. it gives me pleasure. it makes me happy in ways that i never imagined.
and so, i am reshaping the content of this blog. instead of thinking about my dad's cliches, i am living them. it is hard to believe that everything doesn't happen for a reason when i applied for and got a job that gives me the time and money to write. it's hard to think that everything doesn't happen for a reason when through that job, i met a writing partner who helps me every day. it's hard for anyone to steal my joy now that i am doing something i am proud of. so many years of thinking about these things and how to achieve them, and all it took was doing something i really really wanted to do.
from now on, this web log is about books and writing, my two favorite things. and sometimes chris. but of course, he is inextricable from all of it because of his support and his inspiration. right now, i am thinking that many of my posts will be book reviews, ruminations about the writing process and flaky, floaty, shallowly deep ideas that pop into my head but don't really fit into the Book. i hope those of you who still read this blog like the changes.
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