As much as I didn’t want to fall in love with this book, I did. I nearly put the book down in the first two pages solely due to the writing style, but thank goodness, I didn’t and I urge you not to if you try reading it. The story is beautiful, and (despite the most epic, want-to-kill-the-author-because-of-character-death scene) totally worth reading. It travels quickly though not too light of a read. I did find it predictable, but the story is about the how the character handles it, not about being surprised by it. I look forward to reading the next in the trilogy, though it’ll be quite a while before I get to it.
NaNoWriMo is doing something that I couldn’t pass up. It is their #my1ststory campaign. The photo above is mine. I almost wrote about my 1st grade poetry since it was technically my first real writing experience, but is not what fueled my creative writing. My sister did that. So here’s a big shoutout to her:
Towim, thanks for inspiring my creative writing! You’re the bestest big sister ever!
The day couldn’t be more pleasant as I sit here on the stoop of my high school where I first began to figure out who I wanted to be.
The breeze is cool, the birds are chirping, and my dog is acting like a fool because a bunny ran in front of us.
It may yet rain, but aside from fear of my tablet or notebook getting wet, I can’t think of any reason I wouldn’t want it to rain on a day like this.
I’m not feeling quite as nostalgic as I guess I had hoped to be. I’m a little sad that the bushes my friends used to smoke behind are gone.
Apparently, the new principal is a little wiser than the old one. I worry that some shy, searching young person may miss out on my own experiences, but kids are resilient. I’m sure they have found anew place to hide from the prying eyes of authority.
I don’t miss the place very much, though I hardly ever visit it. There is a melancholy in the air, but that may just be because school is out, and it is Sunday morning so everyone is at church. Yes there are still places where the town gets all twilight-zonie Sunday mornings. It might be a good setting for a horror story should I ever get the balls to write one.
I’m going to walk back to the homestead now. Mom and Granny are probably rolling out of bed and wondering where I ran off to.
Two days…for two days, I have forgotten my writing bag at home. I feel like I’m not going to reach any of my goals this way, but to put a positive spin on this, I’ve been hyper-vigilant about addressing other goals that I don’t need my writing bag for.
For instance, blogging. I’d probably not be blogging today if I had my writing bag. I spent yesterday on a newfound website called The Next Big Writer. It is a critique website that makes you earn posting rights by critiquing. I spent most of yesterday on it and had a lot of fun. I also spent some time making new goals for the upcoming year to help myself become a more prolific writer. Also, I bit the bullet and spent the $35 to sign up for my third year doing 3-Day Novel. Seriously, don’t even think about it, just go sign up. Right now.
So I can’t hang my head in too much shame. I’ve accomplished more than I probably would have if I’d brought my writing bag. Of course, I always have a pen and paper, so nothing can really stop me from writing.
I’ll be with family tomorrow back in my old hometown of Tarkio, MO. I’ll have about three hours to kill in the morning and I’m considering going to write on my old high school stoop where I used to keep an eye out for the principle while my friends hid in the bushes to smoke. Sometime a little nostalgia is good for the writer’s soul.
My husband and I always seem to have the most random-yet interesting-talk in the morning while I’m getting ready for work. He’s half asleep and I still have half a mouthful of toothpaste.
This morning, he randomly said, “I’ve been playing out this scene from a Card book in my head all night where he’s walking down a hallway and describing an object in detail all the while saying how unimportant the object is.”
I said, “You of all people should appreciate a good focus object.” (He has ADHD)
Then I rambled on about one of my novels I’m editing and about how I’d added in 1000 words of focus object yesterday to help slow the pace and ground the reader.
He asked what I was working on and I told him. Then he said, “You know, if you ever manage to get a book banned, it’ll be that one.”
And it hit me: I would be so proud to have a book banned one day.
I love going to my closest locally owned bookstore and perusing the banned book isle. My favorite class in high school was “Novels” because we spent the semester reading books that had been banned. Then I wondered why. Is my nature just that contrary.
I decided the answer is: No. I’m not contrary. I just love that words that I created out of nothing could one day evoke that kind of response in someone. I honestly think that as a writer, that would be a defining moment to me. That moment would tell me that my words have weight and they matter. I don’t care what the response is (happy, sad, rebellious, angry).
I just want a response.
Then of course the hubby and I went on to discuss the poetry and music skills of The Doors vs. The Used. I love that man and our early morning bedroom talk.