Inspiration Strikes Again

My fiance's best friend Beth has been doing all kinds of cool things for the past few months and writing about them here. I hadn't really read her blog for a while because I've been getting the life updates straight from Beth, but tonight I was feeling a little blah and decided it would be a good way to procrastinate on all those annoying things I don't want to do even though I should. This line she wrote resonated with me:

"My hope has always been that what I write will inspire others to find solutions within themselves to the problems nagging at them".*
 
Helping people enjoy life more has been a major goal of mine for the past few years, but I've always felt it's a long-term goal. I'm still pretty young, inexperience, and sheltered by luck. Who am I to tell people what's good or better? Yet I feel that I've been collecting a lot of useful information that some other people might also find helpful. I've briefly considered looking into becoming a life coach or inspirational speaker or something along those lines, but none of that felt right. I've always believed that it's better to set an example than dictate.

So I'm going to start setting that example. The first step is to finally get back to blogging regularly. In order to do that I'm going to let myself post whatever I feel like and not only things that are "good" or so rough that I don't care if they're any good because I know I'll clean them up later. I need to practice writing and since I've never been prolific I need to practice any way I can, as much as possible. This will also help me write more fiction for the writing career I'm trying to build because if I feel like I have to update on progress then I'll have to make some progress.

Hold me to this please people! Follow-through has never been my strong point. I'm interested in doing so many things that if I start slacking on something I rarely notice immediately because something else takes its place. On the other hand, with my history I feel like I can be proud I'm not abandoning this blog after almost three years of not doing what I initially intended.


*Look at me using my period outside the quotation marks like a Canadian! Never fear Americans who are judging my grammar, you're allowed to do that up here.


On a completely unrelated note, I just read a reference to American Girl Dolls costing $110. When I wanted one in elementary school they were $81 (or $83 - even if I can't remember the exact price, you know I must have looked at that catalog a lot to remember approximately how much they were 20 years ago). So I decided to check out the American Girl website and see what's happening in the American Girl universe now. Oh man! I knew some of the original characters had been retired, but it's down to just Molly and Addy! Why Molly? I only know one person who liked Molly. Molly's not bad, but Kirsten, Samantha and Felicity were WAY more popular. And the new book covers! And 1974 is not historical! Okay, it is to little girls today, but not like 1774! Even if my Samantha doll is a knock-off, she's going to be treasured forever. And now I definitely can never give those books away because if I have a daughter she will only read the classic editions and not those new ugly things.

From one of tonight's writing prompts

Rich and smokey, the campfire smell envelopes me. Four s'mores settle happily in my stomach. My toes wriggle contentedly in my thick socks. The stars light up the night through the thin summer air.

Peace.

Was that a shooting star? I didn't know they could be so low in the sky. Another flashes in the corner of my eye. But that was below the tree tops so it couldn't have been. Since when are there fireflies around here? And since when are fireflies green?

I've never been good at catching bugs, but this call for an investigation.

Ouch! I don't know much about fireflies, but I know they don't bite or sting.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Not only did I miss catching the firefly, but something is attacking me. This campsite's not so peaceful with these nasty bugs.

SMACK!

Ha! I think I got it. Must be one of the biggest mosquitoes I've come across.

But this is the wrong shape for a mosquito. The body's too thick and the wings too big. It almost looks like a tiny person. Oh my God! No one ever told me fairies glow in the dark.

My mom sent me the link for this and anyone who reads/loves YA should check it out.

Vote for the best-ever teen novels

Of course any list like this will have disagreements and leave out one or two greats, but the thing I find most interesting about this is the number of books on there that are either children's lit or adult books. There is nothing wrong with adults reading children's books or teens reading adult books and so we should call them what they are. I doubt Douglas Adams, for example, would have considered teens his main audience. As someone who reads kid's books, teen books, and adult books, I wish people would respect the differences between the three and not say that any one is better than the others.

And yes, the commenters are right and Ender's Game deserves a spot on the top 100.

Yep, I'm terrible with consistency and follow-through. I think about blogging and plan posts, and then other things get in the way, such as:

*Travel
Since my last post, I've visited New York, Israel, Los Angeles, Vancouver Island, Alberta and Saskatchewan and I have four more trips planned in the next two months.

*Gardening
I'm now taking care of two gardens instead of just one. Pictures will follow.

*Typing and proofreading the novella I wrote as a tween so that I could post it if I want to. Still haven't decided if I want to, but we'll see.

*Telling people about my friends' awesome new game Pyro Touch!
Check it out and if you have an iphone 4 then download it because it's fun!

First World Problems

I've been thinking about the idea of First World Problems recently, partly because I've been having a few lately. First, one of my favorite pieces of jewelry got slightly damaged. Then I discovered that a couple kinds of junk food that I used to really like just don't taste good anymore. Not only do they not taste the way I remembered, they taste bad to me. And today I learned that my Beckymobile was totaled in an accident. When put one way, I sound like a spoiled brat: "My diamond is chipped! Oreos are yucky now! My beautiful car is hurt!"

But if you look at what's really making me sad, I don't think many people, even in the Third World, would blame me much for being unhappy. I accidentally broke something I cherish that was given to me by a loved one, something from my childhood is still here and yet gone forever, and I didn't get to say goodbye to a large part of my youth. Those aren't super serious problems and I'm sure I'll be over them all fairly soon, but I don't like the idea that I should feel bad about feeling bad about them.

On the Rooftop*

From our spot on the rooftop we can see most of downtown. Hundreds of others are out as well tonight and the stars surround us like glittering gems. They are the only decorations this club needs. A current of celebration flows through the air. It feels like it's simultaneously carrying me around the city and bringing everyone here to us. But Elva, Jessica and I don't move.

We can't keep from staring at the Diamond Room. Revolving atop the cylindrical, black glass building, the Diamond Room has its grand opening tonight. The name comes from the room's shape, but it also characterizes the glamor within. Designed to be the best place on the skyline, I envy the people inside.

Partiers move about the skyline mingling. The group next to us has many visitors, and after a while a few stop by us as well. Everyone is friendly. One very cute guy flirts hard with me. He has a sweet smile and appealing sandy hair. I flirt back a bit, hesitantly, guilty because this won't go where he wants it to. It's hard to turn him down, but I've already found my true love and he's all I need.

Time passes, but morning is no closer. In this fairy-less fairy realm tomorrow isn't a worry and this night is all that will ever truly matter.



*A dream I had

The end of the horror

Part 2:

My lab is overrun with jewelry from the crime scene. Each item is in its own baggie waiting to be organized. There will still be more once they're done with the pieces that have forensic evidence on them. I've got to sort this all by type and value and then start trying to match them to pieces that have been reported. At the same time, I have to look for links that would explain why these pieces are all together and what they might have to do with the boy's murder.

I cannot imagine the amount of work that lies ahead of me.

I turn up the stereo and let the music get me into the zone. Once it's just the pieces I need to deal with, I love my job. I lose myself in the art.

Something in the corner of my eye catches my attention and breaks my concentration. But I turn around and can't figure out what. I try to get back into my work, but now I have the feeling that something's not quite right. Maybe this is connected to the boy's murder. Fingers crossed my subconscious is working out a clue I'm just not aware of yet.

But there it is again! I know something's happening behind me, but I can't see it. What is this?

Suddenly the necklace holder is on my table - twice as big as when I'd found it. What?! It swells up - tentacles pour out from where a head should be!

I run for the door, but I'm not fast enough. The tentacles have me around the legs, arms, face, neck. Everything is going black.

The End


Guess I'm not really into writing horror, especially when it turns out to be more of a bad cop story with a random monster at the end.