So I am feeling much better today. Yesterday was the first day I had that was good. Ok the first day I had in the real world that was good. My weekend was fabulous, but I was in a different world. A world I loved, but don't live in every day. Anyway, I am finally feeling good. I did a tarot card reading on Tuesday night. I think the cards surprised me. I knew I was sort of in a funky mood. I knew I was being bitter and petty to people I cared the most about. Not all of it was intentional. But I couldn't help myself, and I needed to find away to release the bitterness and negative energy inside me that I had been carrying around for days. I needed to stop blaming my friends for not being the people I wanted them to be.
So I got this really cool book from the Library, called "The Writer's Mentor". It's funny how I have moved from reading about how to write fiction, to reading the war room stories from authors themselves. I prefer the latter. (sorry about the interruption. My dog just joined me on the bed. Dogs are great. Did you know people who own dogs live longer happier lives. They are also less likely to get depressed. Dogs are great because their love is unconditional, and they rely on you so much, it's like to the dog you are god. god with the food. lol.)
Anyway, I started reading this book, "The Writer's Mentor" which is full of wonderful quotes and tidbits of advice from hundreds of famous writers. So today's quote is this, "writing is finally a series of permissions you give to yourself to be expressive in certain ways. To invent. To leap. To fly. To fall." (Susan Sontag) I think that is very appropriate considering my last few posts.
Indiscretions
I know who I am going to marry. I met him at the convention. He's tall, with broad shoulders and rich bronze skin. His hair hangs down to his waist but he often twists it tightly at the nape of his neck. Not into a bun, but an intricate Boy Scout knot. He's dressed in all black. Crisp button down shirt open at the collar so the sterling silver chain can be seen. He looks good in black.
He likes to listen to my stories. He sits at my feet, at the foot of the bed, listening to my words. They make him laugh, fill him with wonder. How can anyone create a world such as this? He doesn't understand failure, or how I can doubt my future as a published author. "You're already an author," he says. "Start smiling."
He likes to listen to my stories. He sits at my feet, at the foot of the bed, listening to my words. They make him laugh, fill him with wonder. How can anyone create a world such as this? He doesn't understand failure, or how I can doubt my future as a published author. "You're already an author," he says. "Start smiling."
Political Junkie Overdose
So Yesterday was Memorial Day, and what better way to celebrate than watching 10 hours of West Wing? Ok, so maybe Politics is my thing and no one else's. That's ok. I can still argue that this show has some of the best writing I have seen in TV for a long time. Absolutely beautiful. OK and so I have a connection to one of the writers, it doesn't make me biased!
So I spent the other half of my day doing research. Way, way too much research, but I found some interesting stuff. Like the story of Lilith, which depending on who your source is, Lilith can be seen as the spawn of Satan, or the first feminist.
Anyway I want to share this version of the story with you, because I think it is just nifty...
This is taken from the text of "The Alphabet of Ben
Sira", the text is dated somewhere between the 8th & 10th cent. CE, and its place within Judaism has been debated.
Soon afterward the young son of the king took ill,
Said Nebuchadnezzar, "Heal my son. If you don't, I
will kill you." Ben Sira immediately sat down and
wrote an amulet with the Holy Name, and he inscribed
on it the angels in charge of medicine by their names,
forms and images, and by their wings, hands, and feet.
Nebuchadnezzar looked at the amulet. "Who are these?"
"The angles who are in charge of medicine: Snvi,
Snsvi, and Smnglof (more common names Senoy, Sansenoy,
and Semangelof). After God created Adam, who was
alone, He said, 'It is not good for man to be alone'
(Gen. 2:18). He then created a woman for Adam, from
the earth, as He had created Adam himself, and called
her Lilith. Adam and Lilith began to fight. She said,
'I will not lie below,' and he said, 'I will not lie
beneath you, but only on top. For you are fit only to
be in the bottom position, while I am to be in the
superior one.' Lilith responded, 'We are equal to each
other inasmuch as we were both created from the
earth.' But they would not listen to one another. When
Lilith saw this, she pronounced the Ineffable Name and
flew away into the air. Adam stood in prayer before
his Creator: 'Sovereign of the universe!' he said,
'the woman you gave me has run away.' At once, the
Holy One, blessed be He, sent these three angles to
bring her back.
"Said the Holy One to Adam, 'If she agrees to come
back, fine. If not she must permit one hundred of her
children to die every day.' The angels left God and
pursued Lilith, whom they overtook in the midst of the
sea, in the mighty waters wherein the Egyptians were
destined to drown. They told her God's word, but she
did not wish to return. The angels said, 'We shall
drown you in the sea.'
"'Leave me!' she said. 'I was created only to cause
sickness to infants. If the infant is male, I have
dominion over him for eight days after his birth, and
if female, for twenty days.'
"When the angels heard Lilith's words, they insisted
she go back. But she swore to them by the name of the
living and eternal God: 'Whenever I see you or your
names or your forms in an amulet, I will have no power
over that infant.' She also agreed to have one hundred
of her children die every day. Accordingly, every day
one hundred demons perish, and for the same reason, we
write the angels' names on the amulets of young
children. When Lilith sees their names, she remembers
her oath, and the child recovers."
- The Alphabet of Ben Sira
Anyway, maybe you found that completely unamusing. If so, then there is a good chance you won't like my novel. Or at least this one, which I am hoping will become a series. Anyway, I did my 1000 words this morning at five AM. Now I am going to write some more.
So I spent the other half of my day doing research. Way, way too much research, but I found some interesting stuff. Like the story of Lilith, which depending on who your source is, Lilith can be seen as the spawn of Satan, or the first feminist.
Anyway I want to share this version of the story with you, because I think it is just nifty...
This is taken from the text of "The Alphabet of Ben
Sira", the text is dated somewhere between the 8th & 10th cent. CE, and its place within Judaism has been debated.
Soon afterward the young son of the king took ill,
Said Nebuchadnezzar, "Heal my son. If you don't, I
will kill you." Ben Sira immediately sat down and
wrote an amulet with the Holy Name, and he inscribed
on it the angels in charge of medicine by their names,
forms and images, and by their wings, hands, and feet.
Nebuchadnezzar looked at the amulet. "Who are these?"
"The angles who are in charge of medicine: Snvi,
Snsvi, and Smnglof (more common names Senoy, Sansenoy,
and Semangelof). After God created Adam, who was
alone, He said, 'It is not good for man to be alone'
(Gen. 2:18). He then created a woman for Adam, from
the earth, as He had created Adam himself, and called
her Lilith. Adam and Lilith began to fight. She said,
'I will not lie below,' and he said, 'I will not lie
beneath you, but only on top. For you are fit only to
be in the bottom position, while I am to be in the
superior one.' Lilith responded, 'We are equal to each
other inasmuch as we were both created from the
earth.' But they would not listen to one another. When
Lilith saw this, she pronounced the Ineffable Name and
flew away into the air. Adam stood in prayer before
his Creator: 'Sovereign of the universe!' he said,
'the woman you gave me has run away.' At once, the
Holy One, blessed be He, sent these three angles to
bring her back.
"Said the Holy One to Adam, 'If she agrees to come
back, fine. If not she must permit one hundred of her
children to die every day.' The angels left God and
pursued Lilith, whom they overtook in the midst of the
sea, in the mighty waters wherein the Egyptians were
destined to drown. They told her God's word, but she
did not wish to return. The angels said, 'We shall
drown you in the sea.'
"'Leave me!' she said. 'I was created only to cause
sickness to infants. If the infant is male, I have
dominion over him for eight days after his birth, and
if female, for twenty days.'
"When the angels heard Lilith's words, they insisted
she go back. But she swore to them by the name of the
living and eternal God: 'Whenever I see you or your
names or your forms in an amulet, I will have no power
over that infant.' She also agreed to have one hundred
of her children die every day. Accordingly, every day
one hundred demons perish, and for the same reason, we
write the angels' names on the amulets of young
children. When Lilith sees their names, she remembers
her oath, and the child recovers."
- The Alphabet of Ben Sira
Anyway, maybe you found that completely unamusing. If so, then there is a good chance you won't like my novel. Or at least this one, which I am hoping will become a series. Anyway, I did my 1000 words this morning at five AM. Now I am going to write some more.
Movement on Mars
I am writing. I am writing, writing, writing. I figured out what was making my novel move like gum stuck to the rubber sole of my shoe, and I am writing. And it feels good.
I have a new outline one that is fast paced, one that is based off of a strong foundation of research and preparation. I know my characters like I know my best friends. I know what sets them off, what gets them riled up, how they will react to good news and bad.
More importantly I am about to tell a story that is mine and mine alone. Uniquely mine and I believe that there is an audience for it. That people will find my book interesting, and wonder why no one has ever come up with the world that I have come up with.
Writing this novel is like sharing my imaginary friends with hundreds of new friends. I have lived in this world for so long. I am about to jump head first into a mad rush of typing just to tell the story, the whole story, to a friend who is dying of cancer. Ok there is no friend that is dying of cancer, but that is what it feels like. Someone once described a short story to me as, "The Moment". It is the one story you have to share before you die. The most important moment of that characters life, the moment everything changes.
I suppose that is the critical element in a story. The character has to go through a change. On their journey from point a to point z several things happen. And just like a 40 year old adult in therapy, every single event that takes place in life shapes and molds a person. It either kills a small part of them, makes them a little more bitter, a little more cynical, or it gives them more faith, more confidence, more hope.
I got some good advice this weekend. And I had a lot of people who simply pointed me in the right direction. People who took my hand turned me a few degrees to the right and said, this way. Here is where you want to go, this is what you were looking for. I was close, I was on the right road, just missed the last turn, that's all.
I was also reminded of the power of belief. I got to see how far I have come in the last year, and I came to realize that no matter how impossible my dream of becoming a writer might seem to some, it is inevitable to me. This is what I was meant to do. I feel at home when I am with writers, when I am talking about writers. I get lost in it. I can go 12 hours without eating. I can go 24 hours without sleep. I can get lost in the writing, in the story, in the message. Is it exhausting? Yes. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth it. Because there is nothing better than putting the final staple in a short story, or the binder clip around 200 pages of manuscript. There is nothing better than looking at a stack of crisp white clean pages with rows of black text and knowing that this, this is the story you've been dying to tell. And though it hasn't happened I live for the moment when the first stranger will come to me and say this book, this novel, I couldn't put it down. I couldn't stop reading, and I loved it all. And for every 10 people that hate it, if one person fell absolutely in love with it I will be happy.
OK. I am going to go back to writing now. I have a few chapters to rewrite so that I can post them to my writing group. I want it posted before the end of the week.
I have a new outline one that is fast paced, one that is based off of a strong foundation of research and preparation. I know my characters like I know my best friends. I know what sets them off, what gets them riled up, how they will react to good news and bad.
More importantly I am about to tell a story that is mine and mine alone. Uniquely mine and I believe that there is an audience for it. That people will find my book interesting, and wonder why no one has ever come up with the world that I have come up with.
Writing this novel is like sharing my imaginary friends with hundreds of new friends. I have lived in this world for so long. I am about to jump head first into a mad rush of typing just to tell the story, the whole story, to a friend who is dying of cancer. Ok there is no friend that is dying of cancer, but that is what it feels like. Someone once described a short story to me as, "The Moment". It is the one story you have to share before you die. The most important moment of that characters life, the moment everything changes.
I suppose that is the critical element in a story. The character has to go through a change. On their journey from point a to point z several things happen. And just like a 40 year old adult in therapy, every single event that takes place in life shapes and molds a person. It either kills a small part of them, makes them a little more bitter, a little more cynical, or it gives them more faith, more confidence, more hope.
I got some good advice this weekend. And I had a lot of people who simply pointed me in the right direction. People who took my hand turned me a few degrees to the right and said, this way. Here is where you want to go, this is what you were looking for. I was close, I was on the right road, just missed the last turn, that's all.
I was also reminded of the power of belief. I got to see how far I have come in the last year, and I came to realize that no matter how impossible my dream of becoming a writer might seem to some, it is inevitable to me. This is what I was meant to do. I feel at home when I am with writers, when I am talking about writers. I get lost in it. I can go 12 hours without eating. I can go 24 hours without sleep. I can get lost in the writing, in the story, in the message. Is it exhausting? Yes. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth it. Because there is nothing better than putting the final staple in a short story, or the binder clip around 200 pages of manuscript. There is nothing better than looking at a stack of crisp white clean pages with rows of black text and knowing that this, this is the story you've been dying to tell. And though it hasn't happened I live for the moment when the first stranger will come to me and say this book, this novel, I couldn't put it down. I couldn't stop reading, and I loved it all. And for every 10 people that hate it, if one person fell absolutely in love with it I will be happy.
OK. I am going to go back to writing now. I have a few chapters to rewrite so that I can post them to my writing group. I want it posted before the end of the week.
AND I FELL....AND IT WAS GOOD
Part of me wants to stay here forever, part of me is resenting the moment when someone will come and rip it all away. Not intentionally, it is a weird kind of thing to describe, but just by being, they are taking away. Their presence overwhelms my sense of self. Walls come back up, intentional or unintentional, and it's like I forget how to breathe.
So I kind of want to savor this moment, this weekend, the things I learned, the people I met, the side of me I discovered. I want to bask in the glow for a while before reality slams into me like a freight train. I am not ready to deal with other peoples problems, be it work, or personal, and because I do care, and I don't want to offend them, I think I am just going to stick to myself for a couple more days.
hmmmm. Yeah, I am not going to say anymore. Silence is such a wonderful thing.
Part of me wants to stay here forever, part of me is resenting the moment when someone will come and rip it all away. Not intentionally, it is a weird kind of thing to describe, but just by being, they are taking away. Their presence overwhelms my sense of self. Walls come back up, intentional or unintentional, and it's like I forget how to breathe.
So I kind of want to savor this moment, this weekend, the things I learned, the people I met, the side of me I discovered. I want to bask in the glow for a while before reality slams into me like a freight train. I am not ready to deal with other peoples problems, be it work, or personal, and because I do care, and I don't want to offend them, I think I am just going to stick to myself for a couple more days.
hmmmm. Yeah, I am not going to say anymore. Silence is such a wonderful thing.
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