Last Minute Musings of the Courtroom Poet

Tomorrow I march with my team into battle.

It’s hard to summarize the experience of a full day of competition (I spent thirty minutes trying to explain it to two team mates the other day starting with the moment you wake before dawn and with numb fingers put on your suit to the moment the trial begins) but in past I have tried to pin it down with poetical prose. The closest I ever got was this piece, where I played with a sonnet-like-sense of meter and tried to sprinkle some truth (like the part about hardly being able to reach the floor even with high heels ha) along with metaphors, similes, and slightly exaggerated images, that some how are (hopefully) a good picture of what it can be like. It’s not encompassing, but it gives a small sliver of a photo of those five seconds right before the round is called to order.

I share it honor of tomorrow (and as comic relief for all those tingling nerves. 😉 )

Soli Deo Gloria, my friends!


We are sitting in a cold wooden coffin;
A stiff suffocating box of dark foreboding panels
on which the paintings of old men
stare calmly down, pale faces, thinned hair,
a flag or state seal behind them.
I wonder if they ever used this chair.
It’s too bulky, too squeaky, and too tall
for me. I can barely reach the worn carpet floor,
even wearing high heels. The bailiff calls
and the judge strides through his personal door.
“All rise, all rise.” We all leap to our feet,
and my chair goes flying into my witness’s knees
While the opposing team rise from their seats,
I can only hope they’re more frightened than me.

The judge is watching us like a hawk
Down his endless beak, eyeing his prey from
his cushioned perch. There’s no noise – no talk –
no breath – and in the silence, I could swear
I heard him lick his lips and sniff.
We are even lined up at attention
for his convenience – all frozen stiff and
Ready for plucking if that be his inclination.

He scribbles some notes and raises his brow
They pump above his gleaming eyes,
as if breathing into a pair of forges now
Heating up to melt the next project that comes by.

He strokes his slick and shiny black feather coat
that glimmers even in the dusky yellow glare
Of the lights buzzing and pulsing overhead,
Like the fear that burns and bubbles in our throat.
Then the moment has passed… how shall he tred?

Our hunter stalks to his chair, takes up his gavel – the appointed bait –
Clears his throat and calls the first one to the dinner plate.

The Box Of Possibility | thoughts on imagination, creativity, and the inspiration found within a to-go box

Imagination is magic.

How could I ever doubt it?

I remember those days we sat on the dirty floor of the dark classroom pouring over your iPad early in the morning every week while all the moms were busy. We would play a hundred games on that device, everything from solving puzzles and serving hamburgers to swimming sharks.

But there was that one game – it stuck with me for ages after the classroom was abandoned as we grew up and graduated into chores and school.

There was that one game, boxy graphics of lurid green grass with a squatty little pixel person, waiting to be moved. You pushed the button, the box appeared, and you typed in “wrench.” And a wrench appeared. We typed in “hammer” and a hammer appeared.

We tried everything we could think of. Fries. Hamburgers. Sword. Dragon. With every press of ‘enter,’ word became reality and idea materialized. Through the character we ran around gleefully and collected the items and hit them together, then explored the cliffs with the top hat we donned to find a castle and prisoners to free with whatever genius method we thought up out of thin air.

The possibilities were endless.

It was so romantic. So perfect. So glorious. To have every slightest item at the most last minute demand. At the thought, to make a dream a physical fact.

I was so jealous of the little thirty pixel man, his sleek suitcase in one hand and a golden key in the other, ready to conquer.

Sometimes it feels like nothing could be so far from the truth. Life is life. Dragons don’t appear when you simply say “dragon.”

As much as you spend your time, curdled up in a corner, soaking in a distant world with white witches and epic battles and codes of honor and chivalry, you still find that the icy scenes melt and the fog of the mysterious mountains fade and everything’s back like it was before. Only now you’re sitting in a dark room, the sun long gone. Your foot is asleep and your eyes are aching from the strain. Not to mention, you realize you’re hungry, but there are dirty dishes in the sink to clean first.

You return to everyday life, more stale and slow, for the realization that it is Christmas! …but only once a year for a meager 24 hours and it never manages to snow on December 25th.

This week, starting on Monday, I returned to school. Except for the fact I felt I had never truly left it long. December was fairly busy with Mock Trial and driver’s ed and a trip to Nashville. At the beginning of the month, I had made this plan to write a poem every day – whether it be two lines or ten. I wanted to write at least something and try to capture little tidbits of insight at the end of my day.

Monday I basically decided December had already ended.

With a few spurts of two or three over the entire month, I managed to have fourteen messy poems. I looked at them as a collection, (not daring to look too closely) with a small smile of satisfaction, for the ideas behind them and the way they make me think (even as 99% of them are in a distressingly unreadable and entirely unsharable state.)

I closed the document, knowing that I had finished, and left it behind, and returned to school.

However, that was not the end of it.

That night my family went to get pizza together and my sister and I decided to share a salad, knowing that salads at restaurants are mountainous mounds with deep caverns that never end.

Even sharing though, the dish was not finished. All the pieces of gyro meat had been consumed, and all that was left was half a bowl of greens and fetid cheese sprinkled throughout, and one or two grape tomatoes. My mother said it could be saved, so I asked for a to-go box and filled it up.

At one point someone asked why I was saving it, “What are you going to do with that? It’s just lettuce and kale.”

“It’s my box of potential,” I blurted and looked down at the plain, greasy, everyday white-foam to-go box and suddenly felt strangely defensive. “Just you wait and see,” I continued, “tomorrow for lunch I’ll add so much to it. I’ll fix it up and it will be glorious.”

In the car on the drive back, clutching the box in the dark and watching grainy black shapes blur together out the window, I couldn’t stop hearing the phrase over and over in my mind.

My Box of Potential.

My Box of Potential.

Just you wait and see.

As soon as I got home, I found an index card and wrote my fifteenth poem for the month:

I own a box of possibility, it’s bottled up inside. Why of course it’s empty! The contents are up for me to decide. Of course you don’t see anything, because many good things look like nothing. This is my box of potential ready for me to become imaginationial.


This week I was reminded of that small pixelated man from so many years ago and I realized that to this day I have been writing words and watching them become “fact.” I say “dragon” and one swoops down toward my characters. I say “fries” and they appear at my character’s table.

But even more importantly, I say “adventure” and I go live life.

Sometimes fantasy is merely fantasy. Elves are elves, and petite high schoolers dragging backpacks of Algebra and Biology, who stayed up late the night before and in the morning had no time to fix their frizzy hair, are petite little high schoolers in the end with a towering stack of vocabulary to memorize as the closest thing to a foreboding castle to conquer.

But imagination is a practical magic. You don’t have to be “the special one.” You don’t even have to own anything special.

Look around, you have paper clips and jute string, a handful of markers, some smashed earbuds, a half-forgotten notebook, and a handful of friends.

Where are your big ideas, plans, grand adventures? Your treasure coves to plunder, prisoners to save, dragons to summon?

Right there if you want. It’s called living.

Keep your head up. Keep marching forward. There are worlds to build, people to discover, and gifts to give.

Listen, everywhere you look? There is a box of possibility. And all you need to open it? A little bit of magic.

Happy first Saturday of 2o2o, my friends!

Dear Character | a short story based off of real life events of a younger self

March 10, 2017

Dear character:

It’s been a while since our interview and your debut is coming up soon by our calculation. We would appreciate if you would fill out the information form we gave you in the packet. Please send it in by the weekend and we’ll contact you about schedules for next week’s sessions.

We all look forward to working with you, especially MC. She’s been pretty excited about it.

Until then,

Your Author


March 13, 2017

Dear character (or current resident):

We are forwarding our previous message again as you have not answered. If this is the wrong address, please let us know and we will stop spamming you.

Thank you,

Your Author


March 16, 2017

Character:

Thank you for finally reaching back and sending in the form. It appears as if you forgot to fill it out though. We still need a picture of you and a sentence or two that best describes your character. It’s merely a simple height, and hair and eye color check.

Attached is the form.

Thank you,

Your Author


March 23, 2017

Character:

You seem to be taking a lot of time responding. We had to shift around schedule because of your speed in reaching back out to us.

“Mysterious and creepy” does not work under every answer and we aren’t paying you to send back snarky responses. All we need from you is to come in and point MC toward the Western Gate. It’s quite simple. You don’t even have to bring a compass, just point in the way we’ll tell you. I’m sure someone who thinks so much of themselves like you can handle it. Or is it too complicated? Huh?

We expect you tomorrow at eight pm after work.

Pick up coffee on the way and I might give you a donut.

Sincerely,

Your Author

yourauthor@herblog.com


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: March 31, 2017, 10:49 AM
subject: Thank You For Your Service

Character:

Thank you for showing up on set the other day! Since we ran out of time, we’ll just have to work with the short cut scene. There is no need for you to come again.

Please connect with me on bloglovin’.

Your Author


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 5, 2017, 11:30 PM
subject: Re: Thank You For Your Service

Character:

You reached out asking about pay but there must have been some misunderstanding. Did you not read the note on my blog? If you become my character you consent to never hold me accountable for any and all injury or death that will incur, you agree that I write all the rules (magical or practical) for the project, and you promise to rate the book on Amazon when it gets there. As an extra you are not paid, but through bragging rights. Honestly, kid you should feel honored that I picked you to be the moving force in pointing MC in the right direction. Who knows what would happen if you weren’t there, right?

Good day,

Your Author


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 5, 2017, 11:52 PM
subject: Re: Thank You For Your Service

Character, I don’t think you get it. You are an extra. You come in, and then you GO OUT. LEAVE. TA-TA. BYE-BYE

Yeah?

Listen kid, I still reserve the right to inflict whatever injury I see fit to my characters. And who knows what might accidentally happen to a side character when writer’s block comes knocking, yeah? A knife may slip…. a wagon wheel.

Maybe said-character has a big ego and never looks down.

SO HE SLIPS AND HITS HIS THICK SKULL ON A ROCK

Just sayin.

It happens randomly to us all.

Your Author >:)

P.S. There is always another draft.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 12:39 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

Character,

Thank you for sending your most kindest regards concerning the lawsuit you are writing up, but I promise you that your efforts shall not pay off! How could they?

I’m the Author.

I write the court-hearings.

Most fondly,

Your AUTHOR and amazing BOSS


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 12:45 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

So now you want to duel.

How very cliched.

Oh go jump off a cliff.

Of better yet? Try to save a princess and get captured or something. I’ll gladly provide the prison.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 1:05 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

Just keep ranting.

Maybe I’ll write it down and use it some day.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 1:15 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

What? No! Of course I’m not going to make you my next MC!  Where did you get that silly notion?

You want a Pinterest collage too? HA.

Oh go jump off a cliff.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 2:03 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

OKAY

Look you’re relay kinda getting annoying here. If I bring you back in with a bigger part will you leave me in peace and stop sending emails??


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 2:04 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

*really, not relay 😛


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 2:23 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

Oh yeah, super fast. A nice change of heart on my end. Of course you shouldn’t be suspicious. I just suddenly felt pity for your lowly being  I MEAN situation and my rudeness. I realized you have potential and it would be thrown into the wind if you jumped off a cliff.

Get it?

Get it??

No need to clap. Oh why thank you. Thank you very much. I would like to thank my family and friends who were all vital in my journey to this one point.

So you’re in?


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 2:34 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

Look it’s almost 3 in the morning and I’m on my fifth cup of coffee. And to be fair all YOUR great so said amazing jokes come from my brain.

Anyways, I have the perfect part for you.

I had a request from a friend for an arrogant, stuck-up, annoying kid around your age to be the literary representation of her brother (who is writing a story in which he is coming up with pages and pages of ideas of how to kill me as a character) so she can help me torture him.

I think I might go as far as to make him betray everyone and live to regret it and THEN die a miserable death.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 2:42 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

No, I’m not going to give you that guy’s number. For starters I don’t even have it. Either you help me here or you’re returning to the dusty closet with the plot bunnies and cardboard monsters. Eh? You want that?

Yeah, yeah, you won’t get any flowers and it might be painful, but hey you get to have a epic dramatic last days that will haunt readers for the rest of their days.

Doesn’t that sound like fun??


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 6, 2017, 2:49 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

Awesome. I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back this afternoon to fill you in.

Get some rest.

And try not to fall off a cliff in the meantime.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 22, 2017, 4:53 PM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

DUDE

What do you think you’re doing?? And where in the world did you get that cloak! I did not give that to you. Give it back! You know what I’m going to never bring sunglasses to your world! Give the cloak back and I might not burn every black cloak in history.

Also, did you even read the game plan??

You’re not suppose to follow her – well you’re suppose to for a little bit but then you go and tell the riders at the inn at the west gate and get your dirty little money bags.

Dude! Get with the program! Scurry and get that money. I don’t care if you don’t like the riders. They have money, so like them. Isn’t that all you care about?

Money. Go for the money. You don’t even like Seth or Nathan. Betray them. Get rid of them.

And get the money.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 22, 2017, 4:55 PM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

DUDE

Get a compass. WEST gate. Not east.

Or better yet look for the sun and blind yourself. Maybe then the readers will feel sorry for you.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 22, 2017, 5:10 PM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

What? Who told you that? Look you need to work on your communication. I’M IN CHARGE. Hear that? I’M THE AUTHOR. Not you.

You’re not hiding from the riders with Ethel. You’re suppose to hunt them out AND GET THE MONEY.

NOW.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 22, 2017, 5:17 PM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

What? You have other priorities over money now?

Jerk.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 22, 2017, 5:19 PM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

You know what? Never mind! You help them out but they’ll still hate you anyways. (Ha!) All of them will because you are heartless and insensitive and still a jerk, even if you have priorities beyond money – like hatred for nice people or government officials.

Just you wait and see. You can hope, but it won’t pay off.

We will keep going, but I can see e x a c t l y how this will play out in the next ten chapters.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 27, 2017, 7:09 PM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

I told you. Don’t start complaining now. This was your idea, remember? Shoulda stuck with the first plan and listened to me.

Fondly,

Your Author 😇


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: April 28, 2017, 9:34 AM
subject: re: WHAT IF I SUE YOU

Oh I am so not going back. I am enjoying this way too much for that.

Just keep making snarky responses and huffing and rolling your eyes. I could use some more of that.

feeeeed it toooo mee

By the end of this, my readers will want to punch you.

Hehehe, this is awesome.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: May 7, 2017, 3:31 PM
subject: re: What happened?

Look, sorry to keep you hanging. Something came up and I was trying to work it out. Turns out I got all the miles wrong between the cities, and have you even read the beginning passages?? They’re terrifyingly cliched and what’s up with Ethel’s drama life? She’s worse than a teenager. And don’t ask me why you haven’t died from starvation and thirst in a desert while everyone else is having a drought and how in the world is the plot suppose to be finished blah blah blah

Besides I was busy running around with Ethel’s brother, doing interesting stuff like throwing knives at benches and burning down inns.

What’s up with all the knives anyways???

Maybe I should get a job at McDonalds or something. 😛

Hey maybe I could get hired to fix all the typos in the driver’s ed course.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: May 7, 2017, 3:34 PM
subject: re: What happened?

OH MY GOODNESS

KNIVES

THROWING THEM.

I GOT IT.

I got it, I got it, I got it!!

This is too good.

ALL OF A SUDDEN. Three more scenes and the book is over!?

THIS IS GLORIOUS

Hang in there. (and watch out for the falling rocks when you enter the canyon bahahaha)


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: May 8, 2017, 5:11 PM
subject: CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES!!!!

Yo man. DID YOU SEE THAT.

In case you missed it:

THE END.

That’s right.

I can’t believed it. I am shivering all over – literally! I can’t sit still. IS THIS A DREAM??

And hey you survived even if you’re a jerk. Happy??


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: May 8, 2017, 5:17 PM
subject: re: CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES!!!!

I don’t care how many exclamation marks are in the subject title.

I FINISHED MY NOVEL.

😳😱🤩🤪😎🤑🎉😁😁

I am almost tempted to give you a cookie.

Almost.

Wow. We’ve come so far.


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: May 8, 2017, 5:20 PM
subject: re: CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES!!!!

Well, I’ve got to go. But wow. That was crazy.

I guess this is where we say goodbye. I almost feel sad – no. I can honestly say I feel sad. Well. Another day has passed, another round of tears shed over the events my poor darlings suffer through. (I don’t know if Ethel will ever forgive me. (Or you, but who cares about that part.) And poor, poor Ethan *sniffs* What has he gotten himself into??) And there’s a lot of work to be done. It’s such a mess of a draft, but I’m done.

I’m done.

I’ve grown. I’ve learned.

And I can set it aside and proudly say I have finished a novel. My first full novel ever! No one knows the name of it! But maybe some day I shall return and edit it and give it a title.

Who knows. Only time will tell.

Until then,

Let the music blast.

Very fondly,

Your Author


from: The Author <yourauthor@herblog.com>
to: Matthew <thisisthemat@characters.com>
date: May 9, 2017, 2:13 PM
subject: Been A While

Heyyyy!

What’s up, dude? Long time huh.

Welp. Lots of busyness and such stuff over here with the celebration ya know and it’s certainly been a while. What 24 hours? Well not quite but almost. Anyways, I look back and it’s crazy to think about it all. How do you like the new house? How’s the pet lizard? All well and fine I hope.

Yeah… So I was uh well. Just wanted to check in.

Your old friend,

The Author

(PS. What’s your opinion on sequels?)

November & NaNoWriMo | 2019

Hellooo there. Lovely day isn’t it?

Well, I’m back.

After being gone for a month, it’s strange returning, but let me start with my two main pieces of great news:

  1. I am alive.
  2. I wrote 50k words for NaNoWriMo with two hours to spare.

Yep.

That’s right. I survived NaNoWriMo without any prep beyond a list of things to include in the story (which the characters took the liberty of editing when I was off drowning in mashed potatoes and gravy, but we’ll return to that later)

Yes… no prep. Result?

The story smells like week-old cans smashed in a plastic bag and living in a bin outside and away from the house.

In other words: it is trash.

The plot is terrible, the world 2D, and the characters are all cardboard, and it’s not just because it’s a NaNoWriMo project.

I mean this is actually bad even for nano.

And that’s saying something.

Out of the 50k worth of events, only two – maybe five – things that have happened made me feel a little satisfied. And the story isn’t even finished. Meaning, it ended on a cliffhanger, but to be perfectly honest I had no idea what was coming next.

It was actually interesting how less stressful it was this year as compared to last one, when I was more invested and had plotted most of it before November even started.

Last year, every moment was about NaNoWriMo. I was thinking about writing. Living, breathing it. Plot holes piling everywhere I look and haunting me in my sleep, but this year, I honestly did not think about it unless I was sitting down in front of the computer with the document open.

And so on one hand, it was not as crazy, but on the other, I’m less satisfied with the content of the latter method.

Maybe it has to do with everything going on this November. There was a point where I was falling behind and getting too overwhelmed and gave up.

Completely and absolutely gave up.

There was debate going on over here, choir prep for our huge Christmas concert over here, family in town, school papers and prep for finals.

I decided that was it, which made my competitive side feel cheated and angry, but that was washed away with the flood of immediate relief.

For eight days straight, I never touched it. Instead I memorized my speeches, attended my scrimmage, did my schoolwork, and even got some time to enjoy some doodling.

And then everything changed.

I finished school two weeks early.

Out of the blue, I finished everything and found myself blinking at an empty to-do list. At which, I thought, hey. There is something I could fill all that white space with.

The conversation went something like this:

Answer:

Me:

At which point, I knew I would have to throw myself all in to catch up (you know catch up on *coughs* 20,000 words) so I went to my room, opened my closet, and pulled out my laptop.

It’s a serious thing to pull out my laptop, let me tell you.

My dad likes to say this laptop teaches the virtue of patience.

I like to say it’s the NaNoWriMo-er’s dream come true.

Or the procrastinator’s nightmare.

Look at it whatever way you want, but this tiny device I got used is so slow it can not process more than two (sometimes three if we’re lucky) things at a time. When I say things, I mean tabs open on a browser. Two programs – say the weather app and a browser – that kills it.

(The laptop also so light and small, it’s easy to walk around and type on at the same time, see? NaNoWriMo-er’s dream come true. FYI I’m selling it to the highest bidder, starting all the cost of all your books and mugs.)

In the end, it works like this:

  • Tab one: document with story.
  • Tab two: NaNoWriMo.

And I am here to tell you it works like magic (mixed with some coffee, chocolate, fellowly desperate writer-friends, and a stubborn nature)

And so on November 30th, right at 10 p.m. I reached 50,000 words.

And won.

And got this cool badge:

And this one:

Here’s how it ended up looking:

(the light blue line is the ideal spot to be every day for a casual and perfectly evened out win.)

My most written in one day was 8,537 words.

So I finished. Now what?

Like I mentioned, the word count goal was finished but the story was not. So do I plan to finish it?

The answer is, no not really.

Perhaps someday I will dig it out of the dumpster and completely start over with a new plot, some new characters, but the same seed of an idea and hope the mutation doesn’t happen again.

As I wrote November 30th at around 10:55 p.m. in my victory acceptance speech:

In the end, this is a jumble of confused sentences strung together with random items and phrases woven within. But do I care? Sure it is trash – I’d be the first to admit it – but I am happy with it for the single fact I won. Oh life, oh stress, oh busy days, where is your sting? I went ten full days without writing a word and yet I am the victor. I finish with a blast and blow the stress to bits, burn it it all to dust, and throw the ash into the four winds to be carried off by Euros. And so I plant my flag of victory of “50,009” into your throat and declare to all the world, I beat you oh monsters. How does that taste? The taste of defeat and shame. You have no hold on me. I wear the flag of victory.

Yes, in the end it is trash, and I will never go as far to even write a second draft, but I care not. Someday perhaps I might take the initial idea – that of the task of taking up a pen and writing about three hurt and broken people struggling to make sense of a broken world – that small glimmering jewel I took hold of for the first day and lost somewhere in the mist – but until there, small cardboard empire, wash away and erode into the murky sea. 

Good novel of NaNoWriMo 2019, I give thee leave to do it. In fact, until further notice, when I might take ye out for a laugh or a mighty cringe-attack, I command thee to collect dust in the utmost darkest corner of the valleys in my google drive.

Yeah. I was excited. 😛

Let’s look back and see what changed from what I did have in my brainstorming list of things to include. (list from before)

| outcasts |

Check!

Though my unique, wingless, outcast character stumbled somehow upon a wingless society which she fit into perfectly, and then the rest of the story happened there.

Yeah.

Don’t ask me where that country came from.

| fog monsters |

Yes! Though again. For some reason my characters aren’t actually frightened of them… even though they are extremely deadly… and they never truly show up even though they are amazing hunters…?

Maybe the fog monsters were on vacation.

| towering treehouse mansions |

Do you realize houses are hard to spread over multiple trees, because trees bend and shift in the wind?

And there’s lots of wind in my story.

So there are towering treehouse mansions, but there really shouldn’t be.

If I rewrite this thing sometime, it will be more of a Swiss Family Robinson with swinging bridges. Except that people who can fly don’t need bridges.

| old maps |

There were two. But they were just old maps. Nothing spectacular about them. I’m going to assume that I meant something more exciting by this in October…

| pirates |

Honestly, I forgot my old man was going to be an ex-pirate. He ended up just being a retired sailor with a tragic backstory.

| locked sea chests and riddles |

HA.

Nothing even close.

| angry mobs |

They weren’t angry.

Just silent and still. And kinda frightened.

| a quest (to what though I have yet to discover) |

Yeah sure. There were a couple quests.

But the main one I thought of in the first week (and the best one) fizzled out. 😛

| magical ship with no crew |

AH ha. Finally. Yes. There was a magical ship with no crew. Well. Depends on your definition.

Which brings us to what random things my characters did behind my back…

| ghosts |

I’m not even sure where these guys came from, but once the first showed up, the rest followed.

Including a whole host that haunts my poor, old (not pirate) man and the host that is rumored to run the magical ship.

Yeah.

But it gets worse.

| lost mc |

I’m not even joking. I legitimately have no idea what happened to my main character.

Is she on the boat? Or not? Because if she’s on the boat then there is no way back and she’s lost forever (not to mention maybe stuck with a bunch of ghosts), and if she isn’t, then where in the world is she? Because the other alternatives aren’t that pretty either.

Please someone help. I’ve lost a character, and this time it’s not on purpose.

(And now that a certain person will see this, she is not going to be super happy sooo)

ANYWAYS

On to the things I do have under control.

Right.


Other November Writings

Beyond my NaNoWriMo project, I did not write much. No poetry. No plot bunny attacks. No partially baked stories stuck back in the microwave.

Again, unlike last year when this big furry time-traveling monster wearing a trench coat and sunglasses kidnapped me for a couple days and held me at gun point until I wrote something for him.

The main thing beyond NaNoWriMo was compiling a list for 51 of

  1. major edits to enforce like filling in major plot holes, general renovations, character development, etc.
  2. minor things such as particular scenes I want to fix the feel of or things I need to research, and then
  3. people I hope will read it and give feedback.

In fact for a month dedicated for writing, there was a extremely small amount of time I actually wrote, but at the same time it felt very productive. I had been needing to compile that list for a while and will probably continue to add to it.


Random other achievements of November:

  1. Watched BBC Pride and Prejudice my sixth(?) time and wrote half a post on why it’s obviously better than the Keira Knightly version.
  2. Helped my family put on a English Country dance.
  3. Watched one of my older sisters die twice in Frankenstein the New Musical. (Was there an older musical?)
  4. Celebrated Thanksgiving twice.
  5. Made some earrings to sell at a craft fair.
  6. Baked some cookies with my little sister. Because. Christmas cookies.
  7. Listened to the This Beautiful Fantastic soundtrack non-stop. Except now Christmas music too.
  8. Watched The Matrix for the first time. (It’s amazing guys. Amazing.)
  9. Reorganized my bookshelf for the 50th time. (Yeah, I’m slightly obsessed with doing that.)
  10. Raked leaves.
  11. Lost at the strategy game I am renowned for winning. 😔 (Any Seven Wonder Duel fans out there?)

And now I’m wondering how to present the title of a game. Italicized? In quotation marks?

Anywho.

In conclusion, writing a book is a fun and crazy experience, and I had an amazing break that thoroughly enjoyed.

And oh.

Did you do NaNoWriMo? How did it go? What’s your next step with your novel?

The Music Tag

Music has a way to connect with souls.

To capture emotions and give us a voice. 

Well thanks to Chalice, I have been tagged and I get to share some of my music picks with you. Randomly sure, but all the same, it’s music sooo… 😉 

Here are the rules:

  1. Write ten songs that come on shuffle (no skipping).
  2. Write your favorite lyric from each song.
  3. Tag some people.

I have this habit to save albums that have been suggested by friends so that I’ll remember to listen to them later. So I’ll follow the directions, but *coughs* not at the same time. In other words I will not count those songs that might pop up and that I can’t endorse, and have never listened to before. 😛

Okay on to the music.

I have so much music. Let’s see where this goes… 

 

Gravity of Love | The Brilliance

Here is a song from an artist I listen to a lot. The Brilliance have lovely songs with simple but truth-filled lyrics.

This is the gravity of love
Just as the moon follows the sun
Your love is reaching
You’re holding everything

 

I love the analogy of God being the gravity – the pulling, throbbing center and heart – of love.

 

Steady As She Goes | Sky Sailing

Ah. Where are my true Owl City fans out there? 😉 

Yes, “Sky Sailing” is Owl City… er I mean Adam Young. Yes, confusing. Three names and all. Anyways, this was a side project he did once with just one album. Steady As She Goes is one of the songs on it.

 

Farewell nightmares
I am free
Welcome streams of sweet dreams
That settle over me
What lies out there?
No one knows.
The tide could bring in anything,
So steady as she goes.

 

Budapest | George Ezra

Hahaha, I knew one of these songs would come up eventually. And by that I mean a song shared by a older sibling from an artist who probably has other songs I would never listen to. I’m pretty sure this is the only one by George Ezra I’ve ever heard.

It’s a fun one. 🙂 

My acres of a land
I have achieved
It may be hard for you to
Stop and believe
But for you
You
I’d leave it all

 

 

White Christmas | Bing Crosby

…what can I possibly say about this one? It’s a classic and sounds like home. ❤ 

I think my favorite verse is the first one.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the treetops glisten
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow

I didn’t realize how much I miss Christmas music…

Remember Me | Andrew Peterson

What was the probability an Andrew Peterson song would turn up?

Yeah, pretty high.

This song is from his most recent album, Resurrection Letters, Vol. 1, which is absolutely amazing.

Just days ago the sky was stone
The trees were standing stripped to the bone
You could hear creation groan

But I write these words on an April day
And the earth is drinking the early rain
The hills remember green again

 

 

Music, They Call Me | The Gray Havens

Gray Havens! 

I discovered them about three years ago now and finally got to go to a concert of theirs about a month ago. They’re such a sweet and cute couple and it was an amazing experience. 

I also hadn’t realized how many of their songs I had memorized. (:

They fell in love
With the sound of voices
Singing choirs, made up of souls
They’re beautiful
Shouting stories they want told
And God hopes as he listens close
For a trace of worship, singing
Alle – luia, we sing Alleluia
We sing Alleluia, we sing Alleluia 

I love that part. ❤ 

 

Fools Rush In | Ricky Nelson

Ah ha. So the 50’s music peaks it’s head out. 😉 

Favorites lyrics…?

Er.

Come on it’s just a fun song.

 

Danny Boy | US Air Force Airman of Note

More 50’s! But super fun instrumental band so no favorite lyrics here. 😉

Now I want to swing dance…

 

Take Good Care of My Baby | Bobby Vee

Well.

Sensing a trend of an era perhaps…?

Again I can’t say I have favorite lyrics. *shrugs*

 

Hambleton’s Round O | Bare Necessitates 

This song is pretty awesome. It’s a song for English Country Dancing (picture Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet).

(…oh and in the BBC version not the other one because one is obviously much better 😉)

My family and some friends are organizing a dance in my community that will be in a couple weeks and I am sooo excited and this song is not helping subdue it.

Favorite lyrics of the song:

 

 

 

 

And there we are. 😉

I suppose I am expected to nominate someone but I know what’s it is like to drown in tags.

Feel free to serve yourself a session of delving into the depth of your music libraries, or enjoy guilt free silence.

And with that happy last Friday before NaNoWriMo!

Don’t expect much out of me in November. (Ha via blog at least.)

But I do like music, so what have you been listening to lately?

Until the distant hills are conquered and the writing blocks are crushed, may your paths be filled with bards and dragons!

~ evelyn ~

 

P.S. I just had to share this. Isn’t this baby bunny the cutest thing e v e r?? I got to hold it all through class today. Yes. You heard that right.

All. Through. Class.

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Jealous? 😉

Returning From an Afternoon Swim {poetry}

Shoes squish and splutter

across the muddy grass-pressed bank.

With every step my sockless toes are washed

and sprayed like dirty dishes in the sink.

The water squeezed back and forth

recycling remnants of Mr. McDowell’s pond

into a natural green clean machine.

I feel that I can wiggle my toes

inside their slobbering cases

the underside of lace and tongue

of sneaker canvas

lick along the gravel path back home

until they’ve scrubbed their subjects raw and red.

I tear them off.

They smell between soured water

used to scrub off dinner plates

and a cracked bucket from the barn

burrowed in a film of rainwater.

So I arrange them on the brick back porch

to bake beneath the sun’s sizzling scorch.

 

Traffic in the City

Like a flock of startled birds

flapping out their wings for flight

umbrellas in the crowd

 

open wide. They bob like

bottles in a stream, colors

catching eyes but secrets

 

corked inside. The taxi drivers

honk like geese & grab which

fish they can, pluck one

 

up then drag it off with

squeals and round the corners with

a calling screech.

Why Kermit Is My New Best Friend + Looking On the Bright Side

I have returned!

Hither from a magical land of falafels, wedding cake, and cousins.

I was told I should write a story about falafels gone wrong, but unfortunately, I was absent from the kitchen when the woeful event occurred and only heard tale of it later when I was asked to step out of the way as the huge can of burning oil was run out of the house to be disposed of.

When the Falafel Flopped does sound like a best seller though, doesn’t it?

And everyone wants to read a story where Whole Foods is the hero, right?

Well, amidst the busy kitchen bustle, the fountains of flowers, the family get-togthers, the glorious flood of frisbee games (in the middle of thunderstorms no less…), gyros and falafels, and the mysterious mosquito bites that appeared the day after the wedding, I have made a new best friend.

Reader, meet Kermit, Kermit meet reader.

Kermit is my new role model. And he really is a frog-of-all-trades.

I have found his wisdom in moments to be absolutely priceless and breathtakingly insightful.

Kermit… Kermit is one of those crazy-talented friends that just gets you. One of those people you respect.

For example.

When your first sibling gets engaged.

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And then gets married a few months later.

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And then when you realize school is just a few days away.

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And then you realize you still haven’t finished your book’s first draft like you were hoping…

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And then you spontaneously decide to make a goal of writing 10k this month.

But then achieve half of that goal in two days.

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And then someone asks the name of your brother’s “wife.”

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And then you discover that your little brother is officially taller than you even when you wear your high heels.

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And then you realize you’re the oldest non-legal adult out of the siblings…. your turn is next.

 

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And then you get stuck on the subject school again and realize you’re only a few years away from graduating high school….

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And then realize that the next academic Mock Trial season is coming and you can’t wait and so you begin flailing your arms and screaming.

But, of course, first grab a legal pad and your favorite black pen and throw on a suit.

Then cue the flailing.

And you end up screaming the Rules of Evidence and Hearsay Objections, instead of random gibberish.

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(For those who don’t know Mock Trial is simply the best sport ever and the only sport you play in high heels and suits and the only sport you get to scribble notes on legal pads and pretend you know everything or pretend to cry or pretend you’re British and the only sport you get to interrogate people during and the reason I have a strange sense of being home when at a courthouse. See why I’m flailing??)

Well sitting here eating a fresh slice of homemade zucchini bread and sipping some Irish tea and trying to sit still (because my mind is still stuck on Mock Trial…), I’m realizing that I’m not sure where to take this post.

My (not-so-little) little brother said that he has never seen a random post from me.

…even though I literally had a post named random.

He says I should just randomly end the post with a random “bye” and shrug off any sense of satisfaction and unconcluded flailing, and no lesson learned.

img_1812

 

Confirmed fact: My little brother is Fozzie Bear. 😉

Not that I don’t like silliness, jokes, or such wonderful-ness, it just feels so inadequate to leave you hanging. Especially after flailing in your face and internal screaming in excitement and shock.

I remember one time chatting with some friends and one offered a template: Thanks to the family who birthed me, raised me, and taught me to _____.

I filled that blank in with “laughter.”

My family has a talent of being able to step back and laugh when everything goes wrong. Not in a mean or flippant way, but just in a fun, spunky, relieving-sort-of-way.

Like when the fire alarm goes off at a hotel in the middle of the night after a day running around at a rollercoaster park, even though it turned out there was no fire, and we end up standing in the middle of a parking lot for three hours, with no shoes and in our pajamas seven firetrucks blinking and flashing until our heads hurt.

Dad says: “Hey let’s see if someone will take a family picture of us in front of one!”

Or during a road trip when we are just chilling on top of a mountain in New Mexico and a huge thunderstorm suddenly covers the sky and pelts us in huge pieces of ice and freezing rain that drenches us to the bones until we can’t feel our limbs are sloshing down as fast as we can, crying so hard we’re laughing, and laughing so hard until we’re crying.

Dad says: “Hey this is a great time to take a video to send to our friends back home!”

 

 

Or the week of a huge move, when a hurricane decides to have in on the fun. Our power goes out for days straight (and we were on a well so that means no water. Period.) while we were hosting my brother and his co-worker for furniture market. (no showers…) and then a friend comes over to help us take apart furniture only to get stranded when our favorite tree (and one of our thickest, largest trees) throws a fit about our abandoning him and tries to smash the first moving trailer that shows up, but barely misses and barricades our driveway instead. And trying to pack everything into the moving trucks (which get stuck in the mud in our yard and are there for many hours) until we are loading in the pitch dark with fifty people in our house (remember no water. Which means no toilet flushing) tripping over each other with boxes of books and bed railing and big fat heavy dressers.

Bright side? I will never forget my last week in my childhood house. It seemed so fitting too and I wouldn’t want it to have ended any other way.

Of course I struggle.

Being stuck in a house with a handful of other people for a week with literally nothing to do or even to sit on but the hard cold floor, can get tense and chaotic. Dramatic. Crazy. Without books (except your Latin textbooks) and no furniture (but sleeping bags) suddenly everyone’s personal bubbles are a bit easier to rub against.

Between the glares, strange new character voices bubble to the surface and are added to our repertoire. The strangest pieces of art work splatter out of our brains and the weirdest inside jokes or newest sarcastic comebacks.

I still find myself worrying over things going-wrong too, which is probably why movies like Father of the Bride and Meet the Parents are just plain… painful.

Views which just make my family laugh harder, as I cringe and groan and consider hiding under a blanket and covering my eyes and ears.

Kermit nervous
me when watching those types of romcoms ^^

Kermit laughing
^^ my siblings

 

I guess when I sit down for entertainment I’m not looking to cringe and laugh and wince at how everything goes wrong in everyone else’s lives.

Too close to home maybe.

Kermit not this humor

Or maybe its the fact that the characters never seem to get it. Instead of making a fool out of yourself and trying to make it look like you’re brilliant and nothing goes wrong under your watch, why not laugh it off and just clean the spilled (chocolate) milk up with a cheap roll of paper towels from Dollar Tree?

After spending a whole week surrounded on all side with siblings, working all together, our super-duper superpower has come out even more. Even when the falafel-mission failed and all we had left were some strange form of hushpuppies and a can of burning oil, everything was fine because my siblings focused on what mattered.

The food didn’t need to be perfect. The décor didn’t need to be exact. We definitely worked hard to make it beautiful and special, but if something small popped or cracked, we went with Plan B. Pulled out the super glue and paint supplies. Trimmed the bushes with leaves brown and dying from the power wash.

Why?

Because it was all about family and love and laughter and fellowship, not about being perfect.

Some things just aren’t worth getting upset over. Fretting about. In the end it’s the people and what you make out of what you have. And come on… it is kinda funny that the couple decided to have Greek food for their wedding and cook it all themselves the afternoon before even though they have never tried it before. Even sounds a little cliched ha.

Well, a thing about life: When it gets crazy, it only means you can make it crazy fun.

I even think part of my training in becoming a poet has greatly stemmed from the laughter my family has taught me.

Kermit Shocked

(I know you were wondering if I would make it through a post without a single mention of poetry… 😉 )

Being a poet is being someone who sees through surface things. As written in the song that Andrew Peterson sings, To All the Poets, they see “beauty in the common place, saw incarnation in a Baby’s face, and in a drop of rain the stars.”

My family has taught me how to see things. How to see the funny side to being stuck camping in a teepee with a gaping hole designed in the roof for a couple days of thunderstorms.

How to see the fun side of a literal 22 hour road trip (yes… we drove 22 hours straight. Yes, 22 hours in the car driving) or being able to have a conversation about how the kudzu in the dark makes it look like there’s a giant elephant sitting in our backyard. Either that or an old man wearing a hat.

Much of my playful limerick-type of playful poetry comes from true stories. But in a way don’t all fictional stories stem from a true story?

You just have to decide what type of genre you are living in. 😉

 

So, in closing, remember:

When your falafels flop, Whole Foods is always there.

Kermit Smiles

Love you fam.<3

 

**all gifs hunted and trapped by my personal internet minion squad via giphy**

All the Summer Vibes // hiking, writing, reading, and that glorious sunburn

I’m a very crafty person.

No, no. Not that kind of crafty.

Despite what gossip my character have been spreading, I am not a crafty villain scheming up plans of horror and pain. Maybe.

I mean ‘crafty’ as in, I like to take little string and sit for a couple hours looping it on sticks to try to make hats and scarves.

However, during the school year with school. And school. And more school. I only have time for sitting and translating Latin sentences and learning that the Romans defeated the Gauls.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Oh and that the sailors refuse to pray.

So when I finally finished that last math test and ‘summer’ was here, I pulled out my supplies and dove into the world of waking earlier, living at my desk in the basement, and having my family point out the paint stains on my hands I had missed or the bits of thread I had forgotten to brush off my shirt.

Here’s what I’ve been up to:

cause I am obsessed with bullet points

#1. Quilting

I’ve always been interested in quilting, but it wasn’t until a couple years ago I made my first quilt.

Okay, actually it was about five years ago and it was so tiny my doll would even have trouble using it.

Not that she got the chance because I didn’t finish that quilt until two months ago when I pulled it out again.

In the meantime, somewhere in the past five years I did patriciate in a crazy quilt day workshop and came out with a finished mini quilt, but, while I learned a lot, in the end, it was still mini.

Well after pulling the first quilt out and finishing the binding at the beginning of this summer, I took in the stack of scrap fabric in our craft closest and the bundle of batting and, remembering a book I had once read at the library, decided to try my hand at making a bigger quilt.

I picked the Log Cabin pattern, because I really loved the examples in the book and it seemed perfect for left-over fabric, since really all I needed was two-inch wide strips.

Originally I sorted out these little stacks of fabric: one blue themed, one pink themed, brown, green, yellow, etc., thinking I might be able to squeeze out three or four squares out of each.

Out of the blue stack of fabric, I was able to make twenty 11 inch(ish) squares: perfect for a baby blanket size.

Shows you how much I know about estimating.

I’m that person who always scoops left-over food in a container that is way too big.

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setting out the squares

I sewed the squares over three days, trimmed them and pieced them together another, and then, after a trip to Hobby Lobby to buy some backing and edging, began the actual quilting process (which I should hopefully finish today.)

It was a lot of fun piecing together, and I’m starting to now eye the stack of pink fabric in the closet. (:

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When the back of your stitching creates a perfect treble clef! O.o

#2. Jewelry Making

I began making earrings about a year ago when my sister and a friend organized a craft day at our house.

They’re really fun and fairly easy to make. The hardest part is looping the wire. Especially since I was trying to use the wrong kind of pliers to do it.

Imagine my joy when my grandmother gave me the right type (and more beads!)

To illustrate the immediate affect:

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They’re amazing, thank you GranAnnie! ❤

So I’ve been making tons of earrings lately.

My homeschool co-op community has a craft fair each December so I’ll probably bring my growing stash of earrings.

Or I might decide to keep them all muahahaha

If only I had more ears. 😉

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owls! and everyone goes “awww”

It’s really cool being able to make things that I know will be used. Gone are the days of braiding hundreds of random strands of rainbow colored craft yarn I found.

It’s doubly neat to be able to make those things I’ve always wanted. Whatever style of earrings such as ones with beads partially wrapped in wire.

Then last week my mother was out running errands when she noticed a small artisan shop in our downtown that is opened only a couple times a month.

She stopped and looked around and decided to take me that afternoon for inspiration and ideas.

Such as quilled paper earrings:

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setting them out to dry

 

#3. Writing

Yes!

Despite what this post has so far implied I have been writing this summer. I’ve been continuing my attempts to capture everyday, little things in a fresh new way, and have been plowing away at 51 usually late in the evening or early in the morning. I’ve found over the past year that those are the most productive times for me.

When people ask whether I’m a night owl or morning bird, me: “Um…both?”

Who said owls aren’t birds… 😉

51 has been going well though.

A week or so a writing friend mentioned during a conversation about names how they once read somewhere about a writer using elephant in all caps as a place holder in the rough draft stage.

So of course I had to steal borrow the idea.

 

ELEPHANT in the Room

 

Who knew Zeb had such big pockets?

Or that he was that strong. 😉

As a technical update: 51 is at 21,651 words and maybe through one fourth of the story written.

The good news is, I have the ending planned! and written shh don’t tell anyone.

Now I just have to fill in the rest of the middle… 😛

 

#4. Reading

I’ve been reading a nice amount of books too. A lot of revisiting for old favorites, but also some new ones.

Current book I’m reading?

The Mollhill, Vol 3!

It’s my first one to read and I’m really enjoying it.

Basically, for those who don’t know, it’s a collection of poetry, art, essays, stories, and recipes from The Rabbit Room, a community of Christian artists.

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Also! I was forced to join joined a local book club started by a writer-friend.

The first get-together that I have been able to attend yet will be tomorrow. Book for that meeting?

The Book Thief!

I’m excited. (:

#5. Hiking & Swimming

 

Summer did not feel truly feel like summer until last week when we finally went swimming.

It had been a full year for me because of the craziness of moving and settling in and life.

But after spending a day splashing in the sun, and I came home and collapsed on my floor, limbs aching and with raisins for fingers, and my shoulder burning with the most glorious sunburn, it was suddenly summer.

I had never realized how nostalgic that feeling is…

I’ve also gone on a couple hiking trips. The most notable one was with my Dad a couple Saturdays ago. We packed some water, books, and hammocks and hiked up to a private little overlook. There we spent a couple hours swinging lazily in a mossy clearing, swatting flies, and (for me) reading Canterbury Tales.

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When I said it was mossy, I meant it was mossy.

This gorgeous clearing gave an entirely new meaning to the common phrase “the forest was carpeted with moss.”

 

#6. Sketching and Painting

And one of the other things I’ve been doing quite a lot is experimenting with is mixing ink sketching with watercolor.

As you can see, I’ve only been doing little simple projects of things I’m familiar with. (i.e. plants, elephants, and my school drawers)

And finally…

#7. Prepping for school

And here we are at the end.

My first day of class with my weekly homeschool co-op is three weeks away, so I’ve pulled out the brick of biology flashcards, put tabs in my math book, and sped up in my reading of the literature books I will be writing papers on through the year. (Right now it’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. And I thought the first part of the book was weird…)

I’m surprising excited for the school year as a whole. This year focuses on British literature, I’ll be studying paintings, music, and art in general, more Team Policy debates, and more Algebra and Trigonometry.

 

Which finally brings me to a quick note about one last thing that’s been going on around here: my brother’s wedding!

I am suuuper excited about my (soon-to-be) new sister! She is just soooo amazing and fun! And just… well I probably could write another five paragraphs about it but I better not. (:

I must say it’s weird growing up though. (Any one else agree out there? *raises hand* Anyone?)

Well, because of this joyous occasion of amazingness but also the busyness that comes with it (did I mention it will be held in our backyard?), I am not going to promise a post next Friday.

Maybe I’ll throw out a poem or something, but we’ll see. (:

What time of day is best for writing for you? How has your summer been? Are you prepping for school yet? What will you be studying?

~ evelyn ~

 

A Pocketful of Palindrome Poetry

As I work through The Roar on the Other Side this year (amazing book on poetry, 10/10 recommend) I’ve been learning all types of poetry schemes, methods, and tropes.

Some of them are fairly simple while others seem nearly impossible.

Such as writing a poem with twenty six words, each one starting with a different letter of the alphabet, descending in order from A to Z.

I have yet to try that one, but one such daunting kind was palindrome poetry, which turned out very interesting and fun to write!

While the crafting is not so simple, the idea is: Palindrome poetry is composed so that read backwards it is the same, word for word, as it is read forwards.

 

I quickly discovered I couldn’t start the poem with a “the” or an “a,” or really use them at all.

Here was my first poem:

 

NIGHT

Darkness caught stars
with nets
maybe

or maybe nets with stars
caught darkness

 

I really enjoyed making it, so I tried another! (The night I wrote all these, I was amidst wading through Beowulf for school…)

 

BEOWULF

Hopes and memory of courage built Beowulf so
Beowulf built courage of memory and hopes.

 

That one was… okay, but didn’t turn out the way I had wanted it to, so I wrote a third one, which by far is my favorite.

 

TIME

Years waste bodies.
Our lives are frail and short.
Away slinks time.
We may understand that
Eyes and sight change.
Oh yes, we stumble.
We are wispy and hollow wind –
Hollow and wispy are we.
Stumble we, yes.
Oh change sight and eyes that
Understand may we
Time slinks away.
Short and frail are lives.
Our bodies waste years.

 

And so ended my little palindrome poetry session. (:

Which one do you like best?

~ evelyn ~